ML's fingers slipped from around my neck.

Uh-oh.

"Did I hear you just now?"  ML inquired, his voice frightening.

Uh-oh !

Magtanggol elevated his eyes again and again, without moving his head. "You just heard what I said."

Uh-oh!

When ML spoke, I began to pull my heels off the chair.
"My lads caught him on his second drive around Gia's house. No one was close enough to attend to her quickly, so we phoned you three minutes before he hit her pavement. Because you had units nearby, he was in the home for less than two minutes before they came. Gia was never in jeopardy."

What?

"It's a good thing we have units nearby," Magtanggol said as he rose up.

"Bullshit, Magtanggol, your boys have been cruising the area for two weeks, hoping Isabelle will pay them a visit," ML said.

"This place is hot, Falcone, but we don't sit on her house," Magtanggol responded.

Falcone?

I raised my eyes to ML.

“Falcone?

" I inquired.

He ignored me because he was too preoccupied with Magtanggol. "Your lads were gone in five minutes, my boys in eight." She was protected in some way."

His sons?

Magtanggol reminded him that she had to arm herself with a snow globe.

I straightened up and glanced up at ML once more.

“Falcone?  " I said it again.

"She was covered," ML said again.

"Yeah, but she didn't know," Magtanggol said.

“Falcone?  " I yelled, and ML's gaze shifted to me.

“Babe. What? " he snatched.

Oh my goodness. Falcone was his name.

Who had the name Falcone?

I opened my lips to clarify that his name was definitely Falcone, but recalled Magtanggol was there and I didn't want him to know I didn't know ML's (or Falcone's) name, so I clamped my mouth shut precisely as my father's voice came over the intercom.

"Where is my daughter? I want to see her"

Yay! My father saved me.

I leaned forward and to the side in front of Falcone, my no longer enigmatic mysterious lover, and peeked around Magtanggol to see my Dad and Melinda go through the open kitchen door. When I noticed that my window was broken, I phoned them. I did despite not wanting to for two reasons. One, they would ultimately learn the truth, and when it came to Dad and Melinda, sooner was always preferable to later. I had to discover that the hard way. And two, I had to find a somewhere to stay since there was no way I was going to sleep here. In addition, I knew I was too terrified to drive, and my father would be very upset with me if he found out. In addition, I had learned the hard way not to give Dad (too) many opportunity to reprimand me. With two daughters, Isabelle and I being those children, he had enough of experience, which is why he was superb at it.

When Dad entered the room and mumbled, "Gia," I ducked between the two hot, angry men who were trying to tie me down, half-walked, half-ran to my Dad, and flung myself into his arms.

My Dad's arms always had the same effect on me whether I hurled myself into them, strolled into them, or simply leaned into them. They tightly encircled me.

I suddenly stopped feeling so alarmed.

I embraced him tightly and felt his comforting solidity, which made me feel even less frightened.

He said softly into the top of my hair, "Gia."

My Dad used to be a gorgeous guy. The fact that he was my father may have had something to do with the fact that he was almost as hot as the two men standing in my kitchen. He was tall and wide, with dark hair that was now heavily silvered, hazel eyes, and a lean, athletic build. His constant involvement in activities that required lugging, hammering, dragging, lifting, or cutting ensured that he would always remain slim, fit, and powerful.

When he wasn't watching the Ginebra, that is.

I had to acknowledge that the majority of the time he was performing such tasks inside my home.

I spoke into his chest, "I'm fine, Dad, just a bit frightened out."

Dad whispered, "Honey," into my hair.

When I looked up at him after feeling his lips leave my hair, I saw that he was watching Falcone and Magtanggol from above. Melinda drew near as he pushed me to his side and encircled my shoulders with his arm. She grasped my hand, and when I squeezed it back, she reciprocated with one of her little, adorable, everything-will-be-okay grins.

Dad then said, "Are you the police? ”

He asked this inquiry into the room, addressing it to both Falcone and Magtanggol.

"Yes sir, Detective Connor Magtanggol," Magtanggol said as he took a step closer.

Dad let me shake his hand, then let it go and tightened his arm around me again, yanking me against his side so hard that my body jerked and met with his.

Hmm. It seems that I wasn't the only one who was alarmed.

"How about you? " Dad inquired, his gaze fixed on Falcone.

As Magtanggol took a step back, I looked at Falcone, his face studiously blank, his eyes alert, taking in everything, especially the fact that my family had no idea who Falcone was.

"Falcone," Falcone murmured, his hand outstretched. "Dad let me go again," Falcone said, taking it, and Falcone continued. "He's Gia's man."

As Melinda muttered, "Gia's man?" I felt and watched Dad's body quiver in astonishment.

I didn't have any reaction. I was too preoccupied with Falcone, my mouth agape.

"You have a man, honey? " Melinda said, and I realized she was asking about me, but I was too preoccupied standing there starring at Falcone with my mouth wide to respond."Falcone? " Dad inquired, his eyes never leaving Falcone.

"Flew Black Falcons in the Army," Falcone explained, giving me the third piece of knowledge about him, the first being that he was wonderful in bed, which I'd known for a year and a half, and the second being what was evidently his nickname, which I'd known for about three minutes.

But this was not my primary concern. I was preoccupied with the tiny piece of knowledge he'd given me and what it meant for me. And it was the end of me.

When my father asked, astonished but plainly delighted, "You're an Army man?" I knew this was real.

Shit!

My father was a soldier. Before leaving to work in construction, he served in the Army for four years. Dad and Mom got married for a reason—he, too, was an extrovert. His life was saved and he gave the Army credit for getting his act together. My mother's issue was that she failed to organize her affairs when she was a soldier's wife. In order to ensure that I was raised properly, Dad left the Army rather than staying since doing so would have required him to spend a lot of time away from Mom, who was the one who was caring for me. Dad realized Mom couldn't be trusted to care for me alone.

Dad liked the Army, though, nevertheless. Dad frequently wore olive-drab t-shirts with the word "ARMY" on the front that he had purchased. And Dad developed strong ties with any of his Army comrades right away. He did it again, including when we were on vacation, at the hardware store, and while waiting in line to purchase a bucket of chicken. If he caught a scent of the Army, he had a sixth instinct and they bonded.

as Falcone is doing right now.

Falcone said, "Yeah," and Dad, who was still holding his hand, firmly shook it while beaming a relieved, jubilant smile.