I thought Lincoln didn’t trust me because I’m a Gable. But maybe it’s not personal. Lincoln probably doesn’t trust anyone. Even his own family.

It’s sad . . . but enlightening.

Martin shifts the SUV into park at the end of Magnus’s driveway. Thankfully, there are no reporters waiting here.

I reach for the door handle and pause to look at Commodore. “Thank you for the ride.”

“I would prefer not to have to rescue you a third time, Ms. Gable.”

“I can see why. White knight isn’t exactly your normal role, despite your hair and beard.”

One corner of his mouth quirks up.

“Be careful, old man. You almost smiled.”

“Good luck, Whitney Gable.” Any lightness fades from his expression. “And what you told me—you tell no one else.”

I give him a short nod as I climb out of the SUV and shut the door.

Eight

Lincoln

“Is Cricket with you?” I ask Hunter, the next person on my list to call.

“Yeah, why?”

“I need your help getting her family to the resort with enough clothes to stay for a few days while things die down, and I need her to pack for Whitney.”

My friend goes quiet. “While what things die down?”

“Ricky Rango’s estate is claiming he was not only a Riscoff, but also would have been the rightful heir.”

“Fuck,” Hunter whispers. “His estate? Does that mean Whitney has something to do with it?”

“People keep asking me that, and I have no answer for you because she stormed out of my house after I asked her one simple question.”

Hunter groans. “Please don’t tell me she’s trying to leave town again. You gotta quit fucking up with this girl, man. You’re killing me here.”

He’s right, but it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. When it comes to Whitney Gable, fucking everything up seems to be what I do best.

But that’s going to change.

“I’m doing everything I can to stop that from happening, which is why I need you to bring all of her family to the resort and have Cricket pack Whitney’s bags. I’m on my way to Jackie’s to find her, and I’m guessing the press will be staking it out soon if they aren’t already. They were outside my gate this morning, and I’m doing what I can to keep the Gables out of the line of fire. Putting them up somewhere I can protect them is the best solution I can offer while we figure this mess out.”

“Is this going to fuck up my wedding and make Cricket unhappy?”

“Not if I can help it.”

He groans. “That motherfucker Rango. I know I shouldn’t ask, but do you think it’s possible? Could your dad have—”

It’s one question I haven’t wanted to think about, but knowing my father . . . “Anything’s possible at this point.”

“And you have no idea if Whitney was in on all of this?”

I shake my head, but Hunter can’t see it. “No.”