Some sort of silent male communication passed between Zane and Gabe. And whatever was communicated made Zane happy. So happy he smiled and when he did two dimples appeared. Perhaps I should’ve curbed my response, but I was so shocked—first because Zane was happily smiling but second, when he wasn’t scowling and spewing out inappropriate, sarcastic comments he was super freaking hot.
“And another one bites the dust,” Linc grumbled.
Zane’s lips twitched, then if it was possible, his smile broadened and if I wasn’t madly in love with Gabe I would’ve been seriously jealous of Ivy Lewis.
“You might wanna start fanning your woman, brother,” Owen added.
I blinked then blinked again, trying to get Zane’s dimples out of my mind, but the visual was burned into my retinas.
“Babe?”
“Huh?”
“Is there a reason you’re staring at my boss?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, scratch that, how about you stop staring at him?”
“Why?”
“Why?” Gabe grunted.
“Yeah, why? I’m afraid if I look away it will have all been a mirage.”
Owen laughed and Gabe growled. This was a different kind of growl and didn’t send shivers down my spine but instead indicated he was annoyed.
“I don’t know why you’re growling at me, Gabe Harris, but I’m a little in shock that under all that asshole Zane can actually smile. Give me a minute to process this before I need to move on to decode the grunts and groans of an alpha male. I’m not hip on the lingo, but I know annoyed when I hear it.”
“The lingo?” Cooper asked through a laugh.
“What else am I supposed to call the growling? He’s communicating in some wordless male dialect. And you do it, too, only you grunt and use facial expressions,” I informed Cooper.
Gabe’s arm went around my shoulder and he pulled me closer so I was leaning heavily into him. During this, I lost sight of Zane.
“Cute,” he whispered and kissed my forehead.
I wasn’t trying to be cute but if Gabe thought that, who was I to argue?
Garrett dropped a burner phone in front of me. It was a different one than I’d used to call Anaya. This one was an old-school flip phone.
“They still make these?” I opened the phone and smiled at the rudimentary screen.
“Yep. No GPS, internet, or apps. Plain ol’ phone.”
“Texting?”
“Nope, disabled.”
I fiddled with the phone as nerves bubbled up. Maybe I should’ve prepped.
“Hey,” Owen called. “You’re gonna do fine. You were right, just be yourself. Natural. And if you can’t get her to commit, don’t push it. We’ll find another way to get her safe. But if she feels threatened by you that’s gonna be harder. Take a breath, relax, and be you.”
I nodded and looked at the big screen on the wall. Garrett had pulled up the email Delilah had sent with her phone number. I noted the time and inhaled.
Natural.
Relaxed.
“I’m gonna mess this up,” I said under my breath as I dialed the number.
“No, you’re not. You’re gonna do great. You’ve been worried about her. She’ll hear that and know you’re on her side.”
My finger hovered over the send button and I nodded.
“Okay. I can do this.”
“Put it on speaker,” Zane instructed.
I looked back down at the phone and frowned. “How?”
Gabe chuckled and pointed at the button above the send.
“Don’t laugh at me. These were phased out when I was like ten.”
That was a total exaggeration but whatever.
I hit send and waited for it to ring once then I pulled the ancient phone from my ear and put it on speaker. Four rings later the call connected but no one spoke.
I waited another beat then I started, “Hey. Are you there?”
Nothing.
I glanced around unsure what to do and it hit me I should’ve prepped. Or at least asked for some guidance because I had no idea what to make of Delilah’s silence.
Gabe tapped my hand then made a keep going motion.
“I…uh…got your message. It was helpful.”
Gah. Helpful?
“Are you someplace safe, where you can talk?”
Still nothing.
“Because if you aren’t. I can help you.”
Garrett rapped his knuckles on the table. My gaze went to him and he was frantically giving me the universal sign to disconnect. You know, the one where there’s a lot of hand movements around the neck area making a slicing gesture.
Gabe was quicker than I was. His finger was about to disconnect the call when a voice came over the line. One that was not Delilah. A deep male voice with a dire message.
“Sorry, Miss London, but Miss Watts is no longer available. But since I have you—”