Falling Slowly

Book 1: Cantwell Quartet Series

by Elizabeth Castle

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Police & Law Enforcement Romance; Romantic Suspense; Romantic Suspense; contemporary romance; brothers best friend; protector romance; best friends sister; contemporary romance series; police romance

Synopsis

Brothers, though not by blood, must face the dangers of the past to win the women of their dreams.

Gideon Eginhard has been in love with Penny Camhion for years. But the guilt that lives inside him from a fateful act in his youth that has dictated his life won't allow him to act on it. Not to mention, she's the sister of his best friend, Nash. But when Penny needs his help, he can't turn his back on her.

Penny Camhion once thought Gideon would be too controlling for her to ever consider a real relationship with him, despite her attraction to him. But with age and experience, her feelings for Gideon have grown, and she now longs to act on those feelings, but Gideon doesn't seem interested. She allows him to keep his distance.

But when danger lurks, Penny turns to Gideon. The threats against her and her family remind her of what had happened to her brother, Nash, years ago. Back then, Gideon had been her brother's rescuer and protector. This time, would he be hers?

Note from author: “This is the first book in the Cantwell Quartet, approximately 55,000 words. This is the first book in a four-book series. Please note this is an open-door romance. I hope you enjoy.” – Lizzy Castle.

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Release date: September 28, 2023

Publisher: In The Air Publishing

Print pages: 216

Content advisory: Open door romance.

Sample

Chapter One

The bar on the north side of D.C. was not the type of place one went to see and be seen.  The dingy atmosphere inside lent itself more to hard drinking than to a place to socialize.  Gideon Eginhard had spent many nights on the stool with the torn fabric at the dark corner table, usually nursing a single dark malt ale until fatigue dragged at him enough for sleep to seem more like a blessing than a nightmare-filled curse.

But tonight, the dank interior was about to be filled with celebration.  Gideon was halfway through his drink when, in quiet shock, he watched his three friends pour in through the doors.

Nash Camhion was the first to slap Gideon on the back.  “Congrats, man.”

Trenton Armstrong came alongside him and punched his shoulder as he dropped into the stool next to his.  “Can’t believe they actually promoted you.”

Isaac Brandt was third in line and dropped onto the stool opposite.  “Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.”

Gideon set down his drink.  “Who told you?”

Nash brushed back the lock of his smoky hair that constantly dropped into his eyes, and his ever-present charm faded.  “Better question is why didn’t you tell us?”

Trenton held up his hand.  “I know.  He knows how ridiculous he’ll look in a suit and is hiding in shame.”

Isaac shoved a hand in Trenton’s face.  “The hardest part will be finding a suit that fits him.  But we’ve come to celebrate the milestone of our friend, not rip on him.”

“Hey, I can do both.”  Trenton waved the waitress over.  “Three more of what he’s having.”

Gideon felt his mood lighten despite himself.  He’d argued against the promotion, knowing there were better men for the job.  But his superior had disagreed, and the promotion became fact despite his reservations.  And because he felt undeserving, he had kept it to himself for as long as he could.

“So how does it feel, Detective Eginhard?”  Isaac’s voice overrode whatever smart-aleck comment was about to come out of Trenton’s mouth.

Gideon looked at his friends, feeling their support wrap around him.  “Surreal, I guess.  I was trying to stay under the boss’s radar.”

Nash’s eyes went to smoke.  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have put yourself in danger saving that kid.”

Gideon’s stomach clenched.  The incident was three months old now, forgotten under the weight of all the other news stories and the short attention spans people seemed to have these days.  But for Gideon, it was still a fresh memory.

Trenton kept his mouth shut.  Gideon appreciated it when Trenton knew when not to joke.

Isaac, however, had a few words.  “You could have been killed.  You’re lucky the guy had a bad aim.  That bullet could have lodged in your head instead of the brick wall behind you.”

Gideon took a long pull on his beer.  The guy hadn’t been able to aim because his other arm had been wrapped around the neck of a scrawny teenager who had been crying and trembling so hard that the man had a hard time keeping his grip.  Gideon had saved the teenager from the guy who had been dealing drugs to kids behind an alley outside of a popular hangout.  And hopefully saved a few others who had been there to buy the drugs that Gideon had learned were laced with a deadly dose of fentanyl.  A couple of other kids weren’t so lucky.

Gideon had used his superior strength and speed to take the guy down without firing a shot.  The bullet that had been meant for his head missed by scant inches.  It hadn’t fazed Gideon at the time, though it had given him a few bad moments for several nights afterward.  Even his girlfriend noticed he was more pensive than usual when he’d come home, but that hadn’t stopped her from choosing that night of all nights to pick a fight.  After half an hour of her yelling at him and him ignoring her, she’d stormed out of his apartment, and she hadn’t been back since.

The next day, the story that ran in the paper painted him as a hero.  His boss agreed.  It wasn’t the first time he’d been up for a promotion, but his boss made it clear that this time he wasn’t going to be allowed to decline.  He could either accept it or find another job.  Gideon had accepted it.

Trenton’s lip twitched.  “His head is so hard; the bullet would have bounced off.”

Gideon felt the last of his tension fade.  He let out the laugh that bubbled up.  In the confines of the quartet, Gideon was known to smile, to laugh, and even to cry.  The four men, four brothers, though not by blood, brought out the best in each other.

Conversation flowed easily between the men as they drank their beer, ate greasy food it was better not to look too closely at as you ate it, and enjoyed the camaraderie formed over the many years of their friendship.

Gideon looked over at Nash, the unspoken leader of their group.  His full name was Ignatius Lucius Camhion, though no one dared call him that.  The name was the legacy of many generations, and it was quite the burden to bear, though Nash seemed to wear the responsibility like a second skin.  Gideon fondly remembered Nash punching out a classmate who called him Ignatius.  The kid had regularly taunted not only Nash but a host of others, though the bully only taunted Nash when Gideon wasn’t around.  No one dared bully any of the quartet when Gideon was in the room.  He stood head and shoulders above all his classmates.  Gideon, knowing the evil that was out in the world, had made it a point to make sure his friends could defend themselves.  And since no one had been around when Nash had thrown the punch, and the kid wasn’t going to tell the teacher what had happened, the incident had not resulted in a suspension.  But it had resulted in the bully leaving Nash and all his friends alone.

Nash had gone from a short, skinny kid to a six-foot heartbreaker before he’d turned eighteen.  His hair was more charcoal than black, and that pretty, tanned face had graced many magazine covers in his late teens and early twenties.  Nash had broken a few hearts along the way, but ultimately it was his own broken heart that had him hanging up his modeling career.  Of the four, he was the sophisticated one: refined looks and impeccable manners.  Gideon often referred to him as Prince Nash; Nash would grumble, but then usually follow that with a smart-ass comment, generally along the lines of bossing them around as if they were servants.  But it was hard to remember those qualities as the beer Nash had just tried to swallow was spit out in laughter.

Gideon turned his attention to Trenton.  He had been, and probably would always be, the most sensitive of the quartet, though he hid it well.  Today his golden blond hair was kept a little long, locks of it falling over his forehead, but it was styled and groomed, unlike the mess it had been as a child.  Trenton had been the class clown back then, always telling a joke.  Today his humor was more tame, but his humor still hid remnants of the pain he’d battled in his youth that still festered inside him.  No one had known Trenton’s past when he’d first come to the school, but the day he’d broken down, tears and anger pouring out of him as he’d told them what had happened to him, was a day Gideon wouldn’t forget.  All four of them, no longer boys, but not yet men, had cried together.  It was that night Gideon had talked Trenton into getting a tattoo to cover the brand on his chest that was a constant reminder of where he’d come from. Gideon, based on a dream he’d had, had drawn the red and gold phoenix that helped cover up those painful memories.  The day Trenton turned eighteen, he’d gotten the tattoo as a symbol of not just rebirth, but also in honor of his friends who never failed to stand behind him.  And that phoenix eventually made its way into a story Isaac wrote for Trenton.

Isaac was the brains.  The overhead lights in the bar were reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses.  He was also the peacemaker and the voice of reason.  He, too, was blond, but the color was more like sand.  He kept it shorter than Trenton, and a hair never dared to move from its designated place.  His glasses did nothing to hide the intelligence behind those lenses, but he was not one to flaunt it.  In college, he’d much preferred cooking to studying, but he’d aced all his courses and had gone on to get his doctorate, and then another, and another, simply to prove to his father that he was smarter than his father was.  Isaac’s father demeaned those around him, so the doctorates Isaac earned were simply a much-deserved slap in the face.  It had not brought Isaac any pleasure or peace. These days he had little, if anything, to say to his father.  He only kept up his relationship with his mother, a woman who had been beaten down over the years by a husband who never felt she was worthy of him.

Gideon wasn’t much for introspection, though the pain and guilt of the past were as much a part of him as his dark looks.  But there was simply too much to do in a day to waste it worrying about the past he couldn’t change.  He stubbornly kept his black hair long, though regulations dictated it couldn’t be past his collar.  But it was long enough that most days he kept it tied back and out of the way.  When he wasn’t working, he still wore the battered black leather jacket from his twenties.  And though his friends had joked, he did need to upgrade his wardrobe now that he carried a detective title.  His uniform would now be relegated to the back of his closet, as would the street clothes he wore when undercover.  He scowled, thinking he couldn’t ride his Harley in a suit.  His wardrobe was limited, and while he’d stopped wearing all black, the majority of his wardrobe still was, and none of it was befitting of his new title.

Thinking of his new title, he thought of his sister, Iris.  No doubt she was the one who told Nash.  Despite their age difference, Nash and Iris were friends.  Gideon knew Iris had a crush on Nash in her youth, as so many girls did, but it had faded to friendship over the years.  They were almost as close as he and Nash were.  But these days she wasn’t around much, as she was finishing up her last year of school.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised Iris had told his friends.  She would have known how he felt, without even having said a word.  She was incredibly proud of him and the work he did, and she would champion him and tell him so.  Iris called him her shield.  She said he always stood between her and the evils of the world.  She said it in appreciation, and sometimes with a bit of awe that made him uncomfortable.  And sometimes she said it in exasperation when she thought he’d taken it too far.  He and Iris had grown up in rough neighborhoods, and she’d been shy and timid in those days, and very much afraid of the chaos and confusion around her.  Gideon would have, and had, done everything he could to protect her and their mother after their father died.

Gideon’s laughter stopped when he spotted Penelope Camhion waving at her brother.  Nash’s face split into a grin as he rose to embrace his sister.  Trenton was the next to be hugged, always was.  Trenton and Penelope were two peas in a pod.  Gideon knew Nash thought a romance would bloom between them eventually, but in all the years they’d known each other, romance seemed to be the last thing between them, much as it had been between Nash and Iris.  Though, admittedly, Gideon had doubts that there wasn’t more between them, and that they kept it between the two of them.  And in Gideon’s more morose moments, he secretly wished a romance would bloom between Trenton and Penny, because then maybe the intense feelings he always had around her would fade.  He would never poach his best friend’s girlfriend.

Gideon had known Nash years before he’d met Penelope.  He vividly remembered the day they had met.  As dramatic as it sounded, it had been as if the sun had come out for the first time in a long time.  She’d dazzled him.  She was the opposite of her brother.  Her golden blonde hair and translucent skin beckoned him.  But much to his dismay, her eyes had widened, and he’d seen flickers of fear in her deep blue gaze.  It was a reaction Gideon was used to, though for the first time, he’d known regret.  Even without the long scar across his forehead and the shorter, though no less obvious, second one that ran from below his right eye up to his hairline, he was six feet four, his mouth was in a perpetual grimace, his eyes were almost black, and his large body was muscular and intimidating.  His mother told him he looked like a thug; she still did.  Gideon hadn’t bothered to soften his appearance, and it had stood him in good stead during his early patrol days.  In some ways, when he was younger, he was glad of the scars that made his harsh appearance more so; no one messed with him or those he protected.

But for Penny, with her long blonde hair, dewy skin, sky-blue eyes, and legs for days, he longed for Trenton’s golden-boy looks and fewer inches in height.

Gideon knew Penny was grateful to him, so she had quickly masked her reaction.  Nash, Penny, and their parents all were grateful.  He’d saved Nash’s life.  That day, more than any other, had changed the course of his life.  And while he wouldn’t change a thing about what happened that night if that meant Nash would have disappeared forever, Penny made him long for a different outcome.  A different future.

A kidnapper had taken Nash outside the private school he attended.  Ransom demands had been made, money exchanged, but Nash had not been returned.  His family had feared the worst had come of him, though his mother had vehemently refused to believe he wouldn’t be returned to them.  Gideon could remember the soft feel of Victoria’s ample chest under his head as she’d hugged him when she found out he had been the one to save her son; he could still smell the soft floral perfume that had smelled much like his mother’s scent.  As the pain receded from the medication he’d been given, he’d needed the reassurance and soft touch of a woman.  She’d become a second mother to him that day.

It had been only by chance that Gideon had seen Nash when the kidnapper had been moving him to the trunk of his car, likely to be killed and dumped at a different location.  Nash’s mouth had duct tape over it, though Nash had been making as much noise as he could.  But in that neighborhood, at that time of night people minded and attended to their own business.  Nothing good happened on those streets in the dark of night.  Gideon had been up to no good himself, though later when he’d spoken to the police, he’d kept that part to himself.  He’d opted for the truth of what had transpired but kept the details of what he had been planning to do before he found Nash to himself.  When Gideon saw what was going on, saw a boy close to his own age being tossed into a trunk as if he were garbage, his protective instincts kicked in, and he attacked the man.

Gideon, even at thirteen, had been as big as the man who had taken Nash.  Gideon had gotten a good look at the man, a face that still haunted his dreams from time to time, right before the man had pulled a large knife out of his pocket.  Undeterred, Gideon had grabbed a nearby broken bottle.  In the scuffle, the man had lost the knife, but he had gotten a hold of the bottle in Gideon’s hand.  The two ragged scars on his face from that bottle were permanent reminders of that night.  Bleeding and in pain, Gideon had yelled as loud as he could as he dove for the knife.  The man hadn’t been afraid of him; he picked up the knife and came after him once again.  But Gideon’s roar had been loud enough to wake the neighbors, and the man had fled into the night, leaving Nash lying in the trunk of the car and Gideon bleeding in the dirty alley.

It was at the hospital later that Gideon learned who the boy he saved was.  He was the son of two very prominent figures.  And while he had been too young to understand the power and influence the couple had, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that these people had dough, and Nash’s parents had offered him anything he wanted for saving their son.  Not a complete idiot, he had taken them up on their offer, trying to think of how much money he might get out of them.

It wasn’t until after he was back home in his bed, his mother’s and sister’s tears soaking his t-shirt as they fussed over him and his cuts, that he’d learned Nash’s paternal grandfather had died trying to protect his grandson from the kidnapper.  His grandfather had been picking Nash up from school, and he’d tried to fight off the man.  But the older Camhion had been no match for the kidnapper, and the older man had been shot in the stomach and left to bleed out.  Nash’s kidnapping had been kept from the press, but a murder wasn’t so easily hushed up, especially when it took place in broad daylight outside of a crowded school.  The press had chalked it up to a robbery gone wrong; a punk kid thinking he could get the old man’s wallet and jewelry.  But Gideon knew better.  He’d walked the distance to the nearest store and picked up a newspaper.  The picture of the older, distinguished man on the front cover had taken all the pleasure from the windfall that had befallen him.

He’d let a murderer get away.  And he was going to profit from it.  At that moment, all he’d felt was guilt and anger.  He’d angrily refused the money he’d been so eager to get his hands on.  In hindsight, he was grateful Eldridge Camhion had talked to his mother in private, and they had agreed it was in Gideon’s best interests if he accepted admittance into the private school Nash attended, to be paid in full by the Camhion family.  Since he had no choice in the matter, his mother had decreed he was going to attend or else, and Gideon had vowed to be Nash’s shadow during those years.  He had done just that.  And they had become friends.

Years later, the kid became a cop.  And now he was a detective.  It didn’t alleviate the guilt.  So when Penelope was done hugging Isaac, Gideon did what he always did when Penelope looked at him; he scowled.

Nash pulled up a stool from the other table.  “Glad you could join us, but what brings you to this part of town?”

Gideon’s back teeth clenched.  Her style and graceful walk stood out in the dingy bar.  “You have no business in this part of town.”

Penny winced at the abrasive tone.  “No doubt.  But since this is where you hang out, and since you didn’t answer me when I texted you, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Gideon pulled out his phone.  There were half a dozen requests from her to call her when he could.  He’d heard the phone beep on and off throughout the evening, but it wasn’t the sound he’d programmed for his mom or sister or work, so he’d ignored it.  With his promotion came two weeks’ vacation; one he wasn’t too keen to take.  But as with the promotion, he’d been told to take one or quit.

Trenton waved for another round.  “Gideon’s allergic to his phone.  You’d get a faster response if you mailed him a postcard.”

Gideon grunted at that, knowing it was only a small exaggeration.  He was known to ignore calls unless it was an emergency.  His friends and family knew to call him instead of texting him if it was urgent; otherwise, it could be days before he responded.  Work took up most of his time, with his shifts often beginning or ending when it was too late at night or too early in the morning to reply.

Penny tucked her phone back into her bag.  She looked dubiously at the sticky table and tucked her purse under her arm.  “I need your help with something.  Mom suggested I talk to you.  Nash said he was meeting you here.  So here I am.”

Nash’s eyebrow rose.  “And I can’t help?  Isn’t that what big brothers are for?”

Penny’s brow rose to match is.  “I need more than a pretty face.”

Trenton burst out laughing and smacked a kiss on Penny’s mouth.  “She’s got your number.”

A lighthearted argument ensued, but Gideon didn’t join in.  Penny might not avoid him, but she had never sought him out before.  He was surprised she kept his phone number handy.  But something in her demeanor was off.  He could see the pulse in her neck beating rapidly against her delicate skin.

Gideon’s voice cut through the noise.  “I’ll take you home.  We can talk without the dog-and-pony show.”

Trenton snorted.  Isaac looked offended.  Nash looked bored, though his eyes were sharp and focused on his sister.

Penny nodded and rose.

Isaac yawned.  “I’m ready to head out myself.  Too many late nights.”

Trenton patted Isaac’s shoulder.  “And not even because of a woman.  It’s sad, really.  I can’t wait to read your latest, stodgy dissertation on some ancient culture I’ve never heard of.”

“At least I can read something other than a comic.”  Isaac hugged Penny and held a hand out to Gideon.  “Congrats, buddy.  You more than earned it.  Maybe one day you’ll believe that.”

Gideon shook his hand but didn’t respond to the second half of his comment.  “Send your draft over.  I’ve got two weeks to kill.”

“First thing in the morning.  Come on, Nash.  I’m your ride.”  Isaac shook his keys at Nash.

Trenton mirrored Isaac and jiggled the keys to his Porsche at Penny.  “And sadly, I’m going home alone.  Penny, want to ditch Gideon and come take a ride with me?” 

Penny shook her head.  “As enticing as that is, I do need to chat with Gideon.  Rain check, okay?”

Nash looked at his sister, who simply smiled at him.  Then he looked at Gideon.  “Take care of her.  Congrats, again.  Ditto to what Isaac said.”

Gideon handed the waitress his credit card before Nash could.  He waved his friends off.  “You didn’t walk here, did you?”

Penny finished her beer before she spoke.  “A friend dropped me off.”

Gideon nodded.  Penny didn’t drive much during the week.  She spent most of her days navigating the city, and she said a car would just slow her down.  He knew she kept a pair of sneakers in her bag.  Tonight the oversized bag was missing, as were the sneakers.  Her feet were in what she probably thought was a pair of practical, low-heeled sandals, but to him, they were sexy with her bare toes peeking out.

Penny glanced down to where Gideon was looking.  She turned her puzzled eyes his way.

Gideon ignored the look.  “Come on, I’m parked around the corner.”

Penny stumbled a little as they walked to his car.  “Sorry, the beer went to my head.  I should have eaten first.”

“Didn’t want the fries?”

She shuddered.  “Is that what that pile of grease was supposed to be?”

Since Gideon couldn’t blame her, as he hadn’t eaten any of them either, he simply took her arm to steady her while she took deep breaths of the evening air.  He held the door for her.  His dark blue sedan wasn’t sexy like Trenton’s red Porsche.  It wouldn’t go off-roading like Isaac’s SUV.  And it certainly wasn’t a limousine or a town car as Nash preferred.  But the non-descript sedan fit his lengthy frame.  He was just glad he’d taken a moment to clean it out.  When he was working, his car could get messy.  On his last assignment, he’d been in plain clothes and driving his own car while he’d been part of a task force looking for a guy who’d been selling guns.  The stakeout had lasted for a few days, and his car had looked it.

“I can stop and grab you something.”  Gideon kept his eyes on the road as he struggled to ignore the soft scent of her perfume as she sat across from him.

“I’m sure I’ve got something at home.  You could probably do with a decent meal yourself.  Didn’t seem like you were any more interested in those fries than I was.”

Gideon flicked his turn signal and continued to drive through the darkened roads as he headed into a nicer part of town, opposite of where he lived.  Opposite of where he had grown up.  “I’m sure I have something edible at my apartment.”

Penny laughed.  “You don’t sound convincing.  Come on in, and we can chat, and I can feed you in return.”

Gideon pulled up in front of the two-story brick house.  He remembered when she’d bought the house.  The quartet had helped her move in.  The aged brick was almost pink versus the red it had once been.  Inside the home, the wood trim and oak railings had gleamed with a high shine.  The floors were a tone deeper but had the same shine.  The crystal chandelier in the entryway had grabbed his attention.  His mother would have loved to have a home like the one Penny lived in, but that was far out of his reach.  The two-bedroom ranch she lived in now, with worn linoleum and ancient carpet, had been all he could afford.  But he’d spent hours removing the old carpet, revealing and finishing the old wood floors underneath that now gleamed like Penny’s.  New tile had replaced the linoleum.  It would never be as grand as this house, but to him, it was home.

Penny unlocked her front door and undid the alarm.  “Come on in.”

Gideon reluctantly entered.  Antique furniture now filled the entryway, with what was no doubt authentic antique lace curtains.  However, when he followed her to the kitchen, modern reigned.  “You’ve been busy in here.”

Penny tossed her purse down onto the white quartz counter.  “Nash helped me pick it out.  He’s going to make some lucky girl a great husband.  He has great taste when it comes to decorating.”

Gideon took a seat at the breakfast bar as Penny started rummaging through the fridge.  “I’m a vegetarian.”

Penny pulled out a wedge of cheese, some lettuce, and tomato.  “Yes, I know.  Though I hear you have been known to eat fish from time to time.”

Gideon tensed as she set the food down in front of him and focused her attention on him.  “Only if Isaac cooks it.  He’s wasted in academia.  He should be a chef.”

Penny took a knife from the butcher block and started putting meatless sandwiches together.  “Can’t argue with that.  Too bad you don’t eat meat, though.  He does some amazing things with it.  What were you celebrating tonight?  The guys congratulated you.”

Gideon shifted uncomfortably.  He’d only told his mother and sister, and he’d rushed through the announcement and refused to let them make a big deal out of it.  But his sister wasn’t going to let it pass.  She had sent him a potted plant with huge balloons that said “Congratulations,” which now sat in the window of his apartment.  “I made detective.”

Penny’s eyes widened.  “That is definitely worth celebrating.  Too bad you’re stuck having a makeshift dinner with me.  I’m sorry, I didn’t know.  I’m sure you and your girlfriend had plans.”

Gideon spun the plate she’d pushed in front of him.  “No girlfriend.  She left.”

Penny laid a hand over his.  “Sorry.  I just remember Nash saying you were getting serious with a new lady.”

Getting serious was a major exaggeration, and Gideon wondered why Nash would tell her that.  He pulled his hand out from under hers.  “Not serious.  Not anymore.  Thank you.”

Penny looked confused until Gideon gestured to the sandwich.  “You’re welcome.”

They ate in silence, Gideon enjoying the sandwich more than any meal he’d had in a while.  Fast food and protein bars on the go didn’t fill a man up.  But it was more the company than the food.

Gideon cleaned up their mess before she could, then turned to her.  “You want to tell me why you need my help and not Nash’s or Trenton’s?  Or even Isaac’s?”

Penny’s eyes held Gideon’s.  “I need a cop.”