Tara Randel - The Bridal Bouquet

Cypress Pointe was only forty-five minutes outside of Tampa. Dylan needed to act on the tip.

“Thanks, Tom. I owe you.”

“Pizza and a round of pool should make us even.”

“Deal.”

Dylan ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket. He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal balcony railing. The breeze cooled his heated face. Finally. This was his chance to make Esposa pay. Time to get justice for Eddie.

Except he couldn’t allow Esposa to have any inkling he was here. If the dealer caught wind that Dylan had received a credible tip, he’d take off. Dylan might not have an opportunity like this again. He had to play this smart or his chances of catching the guy would again drop to zero. He needed to hang around and come up with a strategy.

His brothers’ laughter pulled him from his thoughts. He went back into the room. Being here with his family, seeing them safe and healthy, made his chest hurt. Since living in Miami, he’d been too far away from them. The wedding had been a worthwhile reason to reconnect. He’d missed sparring with his brothers, missed the creative ways their mother found to keep her sons active in her life.

It also reminded him this was why he did the work he did. To keep families, like his and so many others, safe from dealers who cared about only money and power.

“Excellent,” his mother said. “You’re back. I was just telling your brothers about my workshop. It’s all about making the bride imagine what she needs for her special day, not necessarily what she wants. I’ve found...”

Dylan pulled Derrick to the corner of the room, his gaze glued to his mother while he asked, “You still have the fake two-headed coin?”

“I’m not saying anything without a lawyer.”

“Chill. You want to get out of convention duty?”

Derrick eyed him suspiciously. “Of course.”

“Then let me flip the coin. I need to stay in town.”

“Are you crazy? Still on pain meds?”

“No. I have a lead on Esposa.”

His brother stilled.

“He’s close, Derrick. I have to stick around and see what I can dig up. The convention will be a great cover.”

“I don’t know, Dyl. Are you up to this?”

“I haven’t thought of anything else since I woke up after surgery and found out Eddie was gone.”

“I get it, but you’re too close, man. And your bosses wouldn’t go for it.”

“Esposa’s been in the wind too long. It’s now or never.”

Derrick went quiet. Mulling it over? No matter what his brother decided, Dylan was sticking around Cypress Pointe until he got some answers.

“I don’t like it, but okay. You need backup?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll only give you the coin if you promise to keep me in the loop. Call if you need anything.”

Dylan hated to get anyone else involved. This entire mess was on him and he intended to keep it like that.

“I can do that,” he assured his brother. “And another thing. Keep this between us. I don’t want going after Esposa to turn into a family affair. He’s mine.”

Derrick nodded.

“We’re good?” Dylan asked.

“We’re good,” his brother answered.

His mother turned her gaze toward him. “What are you two whispering about over there?”

“It’s nothing, Mom,” he replied. “Your workshop sounds exciting.”

Dante coughed.

“It is.” She stood, glancing at the gold-and-diamond wristwatch their father had given her on their last anniversary. “You boys have until tomorrow to decide who will attend the conference with me. Now, go back to your rooms and get changed. We’re meeting your aunt and uncle down at the beach in twenty minutes. They tell me the bonfire is lots of fun.” She took a long moment to glance at Dylan. “We don’t get together much anymore, so let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Dylan and his brothers filed out of the room. In the hallway, with the door closed and their conversation out of their mother’s earshot, Deke blurted, “When do we flip?”

Derrick pulled out a coin and flicked it in the air. “How about right now?”

“Not until we check the coin.” Dante reached out to grab it.

“Wait. Let me.” Dylan snatched the coin in midair and made a show of looking it over, first one side, then the other. “We’re good. Dante, you and Derrick go first.”

“Heads,” Dante called.

Dylan flipped the coin, and when it landed back in his hand, he said, “Heads. You’re out, Dante.”

His brother let out a long, relieved breath.

“Okay, Derrick and Deke.”

“Heads,” Deke called before Dylan tossed the coin. Again he read the face when it landed in his hand.

“Sorry, man. Derrick is safe.”

Derrick backed away. “Don’t ever punch me again.”

Dante snickered.

“Get it over with. Heads,” Deke said, pain etched on his face.

Just for fun, Dylan stretched out the suspense. “One. Two. Hey, Deke, did Mom really make you follow her around with the flower bucket last year?”

Deke glared at him. “Do it.”

Dylan chuckled. “Three.”

He sent the coin in the air. Four sets of eyes watched it twirl, each brother holding his breath at the outcome. Dylan captured the coin in his fist and snatched it to his chest. Opening his hand, he looked down. Closed his eyes.

“Well?” Deke asked.

Dylan held the coin up between his thumb and forefinger. “Heads. I lose.”

Deke slumped against the wall, clearly relieved. “You guys kill me.”

“Guess I have convention duty this year. Wish me luck,” Dylan told them.

Deke straightened. “It’s not so bad.”

Dylan lifted a brow.

“Okay, it is, but you’re injured. I wanted to cut you some slack.”

“I’m a big boy. I can handle anything Mom throws my way.”

“Be careful what you say,” Deke warned.

“At least this is the last coin toss,” Derrick said. “After this convention, we’re free men.”

“Until Mom decides she wants daughters-in-law,” Dante pointed out. “I saw her searching the crowd during the wedding. She’s already making plans.”

Deke shook his head. “Just shoot me now.”

Normally Dylan would agree with his brothers, but an image of the pretty florist he’d met at the wedding flashed across his mind. He blinked, surprised at the pleasure it brought him. He just as quickly shook it off. He was a long way from wedding bells. Until he put Esposa behind bars, nothing else, including a woman, came first in his life.

CHAPTER THREE

IT DIDN’T TAKE Dylan long to get the ball rolling. Knowing Esposa might be near infused him with an energy he’d been lacking. He had to do something now, because waiting was no longer an option. Closing the book on Esposa meant moving on with his life.

The beach teemed with locals enjoying the wintery Saturday night. The bonfire burned bright, the wood crackling as the steady wind kept it stoked. His brothers had spread out among family and friends, sharing their brand of humor and chatting up the fine people of Cypress Pointe. Dylan stood alone, dwelling on his next move.

A hoot of laughter caught his attention. Derrick, holding court. He wished he could laugh as easily, but his mind was elsewhere and his thigh ached in the cold air. He chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the prospect of nailing Esposa.

When his mind started going around in circles, he finally entered the merry group, hands jammed deep in his pockets. After asking a couple of leading questions, his uncle pointed out the police chief, Bob Gardener. The older, stocky man lingered on the edge of the gathering, dressed in his official uniform, obviously on duty. Dylan made his way over, gritting his teeth as he tried not to limp, and introduced himself, mentioning his agency and title.