This Guy's in Love Read online

  THIS GUY'S IN LOVE

  The Gentileschi Sisters

  Book 2

  Kathryn Shay

  This Guy's in Love

  Copyright © 2018 by Kathryn Shay

  All Rights Reserved

  Published by Ocean View Books

  Cover Design by Shelley Kay at Web Crafters

  Smashwords Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Author's Note

  The Gentileschi Sisters series

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Once upon a time, in a faraway land called Casarina, lived King Alessio Gentileschi and Queen Renata. Their seven girls are the center of their lives. All grown up now, these women journeyed to the United States to train or educate themselves but the king and queen fear they will never return home.

  Who are the princesses of Casarina?

  Callandra (Calla) Gentileschi, 31, heroine in NO OTHER LOVE, in the To Serve and Protect series. Married, with one child, Razim, she resides in the U.S. for six months and in Casarina for the other half of the year.

  Francesca (Frankie) Gentileschi, 29, cop in Baltimore City, just transferred to a new task force. She uses the queen’s surname, Marcello.

  Gabriella (Brie) Gentileschi, 27, grade school teacher in a low income area, plans to open her own school in the U.S.

  Ravenna (Raven) Gentileschi, 26, artist, art therapy practice, and has illustrated her sister’s children’s book. She uses the queen’s surname, Marcello.

  Evangelina (Evvie) Gentileschi, 24, dedicated neonatal nurse, main hobby is watching major league baseball.

  Mariela (Mari) Gentileschi, 23, widowed at 20, she’s now in Georgetown Law School and has a five-year-old daughter, Lilliana. She uses her married name Moretti.

  Alexandra (Lexy} Gentileschi, 21, has just sold her children’s book to an American publisher. She uses the queen’s name, Marcello.

  The men of The Gentileschi Sisters:

  Connor Marino, husband of Callandra, hero of NO OTHER LOVE.

  Tyrell Beauregard Collingsworth, cop in Baltimore, on the same task force as Francesca.

  Dante Federico, new Physical Education teacher at Gabriella’s school.

  Blake Parker, gallery owner, plans a show of Ravenna’s art.

  Mike Jagielski, star player on the Baltimore Raiders major league baseball team, meets Evangelina at a game.

  Jordan Dubois, professor at Georgetown Law School, has Mariela as a student.

  Ryder Reynolds, vice president of Reynolds Publishing, buys Alexandra’s children’s book.

  Chapter 1

  “Okay, buddy, hands up against the car.”

  “I ain’t your buddy.”

  “Yeah, I know.” When the guy slapped his hands on the hood, Frankie Marcello checked him for a gun, then yanked his arms back and cuffed him. “I got better taste than you.”

  The thief let loose with several expletives, which Frankie laughed off. “Save it for your friends in lockup.”

  Mack came from the rear of the small, unassuming house and eased his already-cuffed charge into the black and white.

  When she tried to do the same on her side, the guy resisted. “Need some help there, Francesca?”

  Oh, man, she wasn’t ready to take him on right now. She’d gotten elbowed in the skirmish, and her eye already hurt like hell.

  “None needed, Tyrell.”

  He circled the car. “You got him, I guess.”

  Frankie wrestled the suspect into the backseat of the police vehicle and into the custody of the uniforms. When she turned around, Tyrell was still behind her.

  “What the hell?” The night was cool and starless, but in the light of the street lamps, he tipped her chin. “What happened?”

  “His elbow got in my way.” She swatted Ty’s hand away. “I’m okay.”

  His gray eyes turned glacial. In that cool way he had of dealing with criminals, or when undercover, he said, “I’ll remember not to be concerned about you again.”

  She sighed. The two of them shot sparks off each other ever since she came to work at the Middle District in Baltimore Police Department three months ago. Among other things, he always called her by her full name, just to needle her, so she responded by using his full one. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. My eye hurts like hell.”

  Crossing to his car, he opened the trunk and pulled something out of what looked like a cooler. “Here, use this right away. It’ll keep the swelling down.”

  “You guys keep ice packs on hand?”

  “Best you do, too. We need them more than you’d think.” The corners of his firm mouth turned up and his eyes crinkled. Damned if perfect, blond Tyrell Beauregard Collingsworth didn’t have a great smile. It reminded her to not get too chummy with him. She’d already given in to the charm of one man at her former district, and totally regretted it.

  * * *

  “Detective Sweet and Friendly actually took an ice pack from you?” Deke Donovan, Ty’s partner, snorted when he made the quip about the BPD’s newest member on the task force. Francesca had asked specifically to be transferred to the task force in another district.

  “She’s okay.”

  “My ass.” With chocolate skin, tattoos and a ring in his left ear, Deke could be mistaken for a gang member. “Ever since she got here she’s been a bitch.”

  Ty didn’t like dissing his colleagues, and okay, he was Southern, so publicly complaining about a woman stuck in his craw. “If y’all wouldn’t pick on her, it might help.”

  “What? Now we gotta stop razzin’ the newcomers?”

  “It doesn’t make the other officers here respect her. And she’s a detective sergeant like us.”

  “Yeah but we outrank her with years in this house.” Black brows knit. “She should try being like Judy Jenkins. All the guys get along with her.”

  “How is she?” he asked of the woman who’d gotten shot in the leg in a drive-by.

  “I dunno. Ask Mack.” His voice was gruff, indicating his displeasure. At Ty defending Francesca?

  “Tell you what? After shift, I’ll buy you a beer.”

  The offer seemed to soothe his partner and they reached the station house just as the other car drove in. Francesca and Mack, aka Lieutenant Cecil Mackey, got out. Ty had been surprised when the older cop volunteered to be her partner. But Mack was nearing retirement, which must be why he took her on.

  The four of them walked in together. He noticed Francesca kept the ice pack under her eye. “Shift’s almost over. We’re going to Shields to celebrate closing the case. Show up and I’ll buy.”

  Mack grunted. Francesca said nothing, but scowled as she preceded them into the building. She wore jeans and a denim jacket—they all dressed in casual clothes for most operations. Her hair had been yanked back in some kind of knot, or a braided bun, and he wondered what the dark locks would look like flowing down unconfined. He didn’t think she’d let it all hang out after work. She wasn’t the type.

&nbs
p; “Debriefing time.” Lance Lincoln, the captain in charge had come to the door to his office in their third floor squad room. They worked in a special sixteen-person unit, Abuse and Missing Persons or AMP, which covered child, elder and marginalized abuse, domestic partner violence and missing persons. The makeup of the teams was integrated, too, as Deke and Mack were black, another group was split the same, two Asian guys and a couple of Latinos formed a third, and three Caucasians and a woman from Haiti who was tough as nails were in the fourth. Each foursome had a woman. “Ten minutes, then I’ll cut you loose,” the captain added.

  “Ladies first,” Ty quipped to rile her.

  “Thanks.”

  She shrugged off the jibe. Good for her.

  The cap’s office was spanking clean, totally uncluttered and well-lit. Every paper or binder was filed away in one whole wall of cabinets and closets. The discipline was left over from his military days.

  After they were seated around a wooden table, the captain picked up a folder. “Let me first say that you all did a good job on this one. I’ll make sure I tell the same to the uniforms who helped. Collingsworth, your stake-out at the dwelling yielded fruit.” They’d been watching a house where they thought a missing teenager was being held.

  “Thank the Lord,” Deke put in. “I couldn’t stand another day in the same car with this freakin’ optimist.” He angled his head at Ty. “Hell, how were you brought up anyway?”

  “Very well, apparently. And we saw the cash handoff, didn’t we?” The four of them had stormed the place and arrested the suspects before they could get away.

  Lincoln ignored the byplay and addressed Mack. “You two gained access through the back. How many guys inside?” They’d radioed in some details.

  “Four. Mack got one and I tackled the other,” Francesca told him. “Deke and Tyrell picked up the ringleaders out front.”

  “Your eye okay?” Lincoln asked, seeming to notice Francesca’s injury for the first time.

  “Yeah.”

  “What was the ransom again?”

  “About a couple hundred thousand.” Mack had confiscated the money and handed it over to a lieutenant from Theft and Larceny who’d arrived on the scene.

  They went through more details, and, true to the cap’s word, they were out of there in ten minutes.

  Ty glanced at the clock. “Okay, Shields for you two after we do the write-ups?”

  “I—”

  Mack came up behind her. “She’s comin’,” he said with a none-too-gentle squeeze of Frankie’s shoulder.

  “I was going to say I’ll be over after I get the notes inputted.”

  The four of them retreated to their offices. Ty and Deke had a long narrow one, with two desks, filing cabinets and a small table. Mack and Francesca had corner space farther away from the captain, but with a better window view.

  “Think she’ll come?” Ty asked Deke.

  “I know she will. Rumor has it Mack made a deal with her when she got here. No snubbing the staff, and she had to do some socializing with them.”

  “Yeah, I guess I heard that.”

  When the insufferable documentation was entered into the file, he and Deke left the station house and drove in separate cars to the bar. Though they’d joked about it, Ty felt the tension of the last few days in his shoulders and neck. He needed to let off steam. Briefly, he wondered what Francesca Marcello would be like letting off some steam of her own.

  Shields was a typical cop hangout. Boxy in shape, its mahogany bar went from front to back, and the stools were half-filled now, at eight at night. Ty found enough seats for four at the end and plunked down on one of them. He ordered a pitcher of Molson’s, and studied the place. It could use a paint job, and the lights needed a good dusting as they were dim. Some of the uniform guys had taken the few tables off to the left and were rehashing their arrests today. Ty ordered them a pitcher, too.

  Deke arrived and the bartender poured him a glass. In forty-five minutes, they were on their second beer when Mack and Francesca walked through the door.

  * * *

  “Remember to socialize, sweetheart.”

  “Enough with that! Other people are around.”

  Mack shook his head, but his black eyes were filled with mirth. With his curly hair that had some gray in it, he resembled Denzel Washington when the actor was in his early fifties. Mack wasn’t very progressive, though. He’d told her when he took her on as a partner that he wasn’t planning to do all that PC shit, and he expected her to become part of the team. That meant socializing occasionally. He’d already had her at his house for dinner, and Frankie had enjoyed the time with his family. His grandchildren had been staying overnight, and she’d always been good with kids, since she’d been raised around so many.

  He tipped his chin. “They’re back there.”

  They headed to the other end of the establishment. Tyrell gave Frankie another smile. “You came.”

  “I said I would.” She took some cash from her pocket.

  “That’s okay, tonight’s on me.”

  “No, I—”

  “That’s great,” Mack interrupted her. “Put your money away, Marcello.” He chuckled. “Collingsworth has trust funds.”

  So did she. “Yeah, how come?”

  “His daddy’s a rich plantation owner.”

  She hadn’t known that.

  Tyrell handed her a full glass, then held out one to Mack. “To our uniforms.” He toasted to the guys at the table. Then, “To us.” He clicked glasses with the other three detectives.

  Frankie took a sip and tried not to wince. She liked wine, of course, since it was the main industry of Casarina, where she grew up, but not this kind of bitter brew. She could stomach the beer if she had to, though. She remembered going to bars like this with Lou and trying to drink the beverage with them. Eventually she gave up and ordered wine, which they teased her about until Lou made them stop.

  Mack slid onto a stool and she took the one on the other side of him. After some small talk, Tyrell asked, “What are we gonna do about Jenkins?”

  “I heard she’ll be out a while,” Deke commented. He looked tough, but he had a heart of gold for anybody in trouble.

  Mack sighed, as Jenkins was a friend of his. “Yeah, that bullet barely missed her femoral artery. She’s still laid up. We’re having a benefit. Somebody’s gotta organize it.”

  “You?” Tyrell asked.

  “Nope. You and Marcello.”

  Frankie frowned. “I feel bad for the woman, but I don’t know her very well.”

  “Females gotta stick together.” Deke had a sarcastic edge to his voice whenever he spoke to her.

  Judy Jenkins had been nice to Frankie. But she couldn’t work with Tyrell. He bugged her too much.

  “I’ll do it if you do too, Mack,” she told her partner.

  “Nope. I’m already chauffeuring her kids and my wife is providing meals.”

  Jenkins was a single mother. Frankie wasn’t sure how she handled the job and a family.

  “I’m game,” Tyrell put in.

  Frankie sighed. “Okay, I’ll work with you.” She mumbled into her beer.

  “What was that, Francesca?”

  “I said, ‘Glad to help out.’”

  “Thatta girl.”

  * * *

  When Ty let himself into his house, a comfortable one but not too flashy, he was thinking about Francesca. She’d done okay with all of them tonight, better than she had the first couple of times Mack had dragged her out with a group. They’d had pizza at the bar for dinner and parted shortly thereafter.

  He dropped down on his leather couch, switched on the large-screen television and called up an Angels game he’d set to record before he left for work this morning. Relaxing back into the cushions, he was glad to be done with the job the four of them had been working for a week. Anything involving a missing teen could blow up in a cop’s face at any time.

  At the bottom of the third inning, with bases loaded, hi
s phone rang. He clicked pause on the television and punched accept on his cell. “Collingsworth.”

  “Hey big brother, you see the game tonight?”

  “Nope, I’m watching it right now. And so help me, Ash, if you spoil one of these again for me, I’ll come over and beat the crap out of you.”

  “Last time was a mistake. Sorry.”

  “Like hell.” He gentled his voice. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I know it’s late, but I have an early class in the morning, and won’t be able to get in touch. I want to check in on the party for Mom.”

  All three boys and their families, as well as his mother’s sisters and kids, would attend the surprise birthday party for Anna Mae Collingsworth at a local inn. Rooms had been booked and a private dining area reserved. The celebration would be capped by breakfast the next day.

  “I’m not in charge, Brolin is.” Ty was sandwiched between the two boys, and they were only eighteen months apart.

  “Didn’t you read your email today?”

  “Not my personal one. I was busy.” In truth, he was avoiding messages from a woman he’d broken up with last month.

  Silence on the other end. Ash was overly concerned about Ty’s safety. “Were you in danger?”

  “Not much.” He’d promised his family he’d tell the truth to them, but he was more careful around this sensitive sibling who taught poetry at a college in D.C. and wrote some himself. “There were a lot of cops there.”