Alex was fascinated by the babies and dropped everything to spend time with them in any situation. Case in point—on a whim, he and Meghan gathered the kids, Zeus, a picnic basket the size of a small sports car, his guitar, a shit ton of kid supplies and toys, his wife’s enormous sack of yoga mats, one for each of them, and headed off to Vorticé Amore for the day.

He loved spending time there, and his Irish bombshell mate had an entire rap about the twins absorbing the magical energy she insisted permeated from the special spot. Her go-to phrase lately had to do with being one. As in, be one with the land. Be one with your feelings.

The first time Sophie heard Meghan use the expression, his sister had lost it in spectacular fashion. And why? Because their mother was a legendary proponent of being one.

“Be one with the balance beam,” Ashleigh Marquez would tell Sophie.

“Be one with the book, Angie,” was another oldie but goodie.

And of course, “Be one with the drums, Alexander.”

Being the kid of a gracefully aging California wild child for a mom had many advantages. She taught them to look deeper. To go beyond.

Sitting on a side table that he moved next to the bench swing where his beautiful wife rocked their adorable daughter, Alex strummed the guitar and took it all in.

Aiden was on a mat doing his thing. The rapid changes in his five-month-old boy amazed him. He was sitting like a champ and mastered rolling over so easily that he used squirming and tummy rolls as a mode of getting from point A to point B. The boy’s set of lungs could either make people come running or send them fleeing from the room. And he was fiercely protective of his little sister.

Meghan hummed to Stevie. She cuddled in her mama’s arms with two fingers pushed in her mouth. Both kids were teething—an awful situation made almost unbearable with two. He couldn’t stand it when either baby cried. If Meghan got going too, he lost his shit, and since his wife was losing it with increasing frequency lately, he was constantly on alert.

A gurgling baby giggle from Aiden got Stevie’s head popping up from Mommy’s shoulder. Zeus was trying to filch the boy’s teething toy, much to Aiden’s delight. The two engaged in a funny tug-of-war punctuated by giggles and Zeus’s soft, playful woofs.

When the damn dog gave up only to come back with a clever solution, Alex laughed and motioned with his head for Meghan to look.

Zeus had a badass doggie swagger that said so much about his first, best girlfriend. She was hella smart, freakishly clever and, where the twins were concerned, a top-notch dog nanny.

After nosing through a pile of stuff on the bench swing next to Meghan, she came back to Aiden with his purple binky hanging from her mouth. She dropped it on his mat and nosed it into the boy’s path. The minute Aiden spied the pacifier, he abandoned the rubbery toy and belly rolled until he could reach it. That left Zeus to triumphantly snatch the toy away and take it to her pile of stashed crap.

Stevie found most everything her brother did highly amusing. She giggled and smacked her mom on the shoulder. Meghan smothered their daughter’s face with kisses.

“I’ve invited Sophie and Jace to dinner. We should celebrate their engagement.”

Upon hearing this announcement, he lifted his eyes to his wife’s face because he noted a subtle undertone to her words.

He responded easily. “Luckily, we have our pick of qualified babysitters.”

No reaction.

He strummed another minute and then set the guitar aside. After a year and a half, he was better at reading her signs. They were about to have a conversation.

She spent a minute cooing to Stevie and kissing her until she laughed. He glanced at Aiden sprawled on his back, binky in mouth, watching his mom and sibling. If he could honestly stare at the three loves of his life and never do anything else, he’d be a happy man.

In the sunlight filtering through the massive, sturdy pergola Drae built for them, Stevie’s soft curls had a golden hue. His little girl’s strawberry blond sweetness enchanted him. To no one’s surprise, she was destined to be a real beauty. Her grandmothers were both knockouts, and Meghan was nothing less than stunningly gorgeous. When his baby girl smiled into his eyes or those times when her little mouth quivered with a cry, Alex melted.

Meghan got up and put Stevie on the mat with her brother. She scooched around until her feet touched with Aiden’s leg. Once connected, she stuck a thumb in her mouth and grunted. Aiden answered with the same sound, and as if on cue, they both closed their eyes and drifted into a snooze.

He moved from sitting on the end table to man-spreading on the bench swing as Meghan nosed around in the cooler. She tossed him a bottle of fruit juice before dropping a couple of ice cubes into Zeus’s water bowl.

Alex slugged half of it in one huge gulp. The pineapple, lime, and coconut water concoction that Cal Merrill turned him on to was his new passion. Add some ice and a scoop of protein powder and the blend made an awesome smoothie.

“Join me, wife,” he commanded. Moving half an inch as a way of inviting her to sit was met with a smirk.

“Nice try. I’m not sitting on your lap,” she chided.

Grinning, he shrugged. “You wore a dress, and you know how my mind works. It was worth a shot.”

Her wifely squint was full of laughter rather than censure. His grin got wider.

“There needs to be two baby books. One to record milestones and the other for shits and giggles. Parenting for the 21^st century.”

She was referring to their rather unique solutions for having sex when the whim hit. Parenting complicated their natural behaviors. They’d mastered a pretty reliable fuck-truck routine, and being the creative sort, they’d discovered that primal fucking in almost any situation was not only possible but also highly rewarding when the wife rocked a dress and went commando.

“Shove over, Major.”

He reluctantly moved to give her room. As she sat, he put his hand under her bottom and earned a shocked yelp when he helped himself to her delightful ass.

Swatting at his chest, she scolded him in her outraged teacher voice. “Alexander! Behave.”

“Fine,” he grumped.

She took his hands and pressed both into his lap. “I’m serious.”

“I want a kiss,” he growled.

Her pitying expression sent a thrilling jolt straight to his dick.

The soft tsk’ing was so Meghan. “You realize we’re married, right? And that we made love this morning?”

“And your point is?” he asked.

Her laughter landed a second dick-jolt.

“Baby,” she cooed, “you make it sound like your wife is stingy with her kisses when you know damn well that isn’t the case.”

“What I know,” he told her with an arched brow and his alpha smirk, “is that despite a ring and some vows, my wife continues to struggle with the concept of obedience.”

She laughed in his face. “Is that your way of demanding I behave?”

“Well, it hasn’t worked so far.” He sniggered.

“I told you. We had a meeting. There was a vote. Behaving”—she smirked with an insolent sounding cough—“will lead to one or both of two things.” She held up a finger. “First, there’s not a single Justice male who needs any more ego boosting in the manly man department.”

He half-grinned. She had a point.

“And two,” she drawled with her middle finger waving in front of his face, “you’d get bored in no time, and we can’t have that.”

“Is that the ladies squad equivalent of making us work for it?”

“If the cowboy boot fits …” She chuckled.

Reaching for her hand, the one wearing his ring, Alex raised it to his mouth for a soft kiss. “Bored is not a word that means anything to us.”

Her reaction was instantaneous. Whereas a minute ago, she avoided physical closeness, Meghan now curled into his side for a hug. He loved the feeling of her arms holding him close. Was he imagining things by thinking their hearts beat as one? Fuck, no. He and his sexy Irish wife were destined to be together. No greater love existed than theirs—and that was saying something.

She sighed, said, “I love you,” kissed his cheek, and then sat straight. When she let loose with what was on her mind, he sat still and stunned.

“Angelina and I, well, you see, we’ve talked. Quite a bit. You know how overprotective and watchful your sister is where Sophia is concerned.”

He knew quite well about Angie’s vigilant defense of their sister in all manner of things and situations. Their close sisterly relationship helped bring Sophie back from her trip to the dark side.

“Okay,” he murmured. A short burst of anxiety fired off inside. Was there something going on with his sister that he wasn’t aware of?

Meghan hooked hair behind one ear and fiddled with her earring. When she bit her lip, he was more than a little intrigued.

“Here’s the thing. I know we’re overstepping, but oh well. We need to know, Angie and I, that you, um, had Jace thoroughly checked out. You know, investigated,” she hastily added when he looked at her as if she was crazy.

“Excuse me?” His brows bumped together. “What?”

“Oh my god, I know,” she quietly wailed before dropping her face into her hands. Looking at him over her fingers, she grimaced. “The request is fucked up, I know, but it’s Sophia, and she’s been through so much. We need to know that—”

He cut in. “It’s been handled, my love. And no, the request is not fucked up at all. My dad beat you to it, by the way. Not only does everything check out, but Jace also came to me on his own and offered up every nook and cranny of his life. Including passwords if asked. Sophie will be in excellent hands.”

She bit back a grin. “Cristián asked?”

“Uh, fuck yeah,” he told her. “And he did the asking in a much more serious and semi-threatening way than you so charmingly did. Basically, he insinuated that if so much as a traffic citation showed up in Delacroix’s background, it’d be my fault if Sophie’s life was ruined.”

“I love your dad.” She laughed. Then she sobered. “Wait. Is that how he rolls? Did he have me checked out too?”

He couldn’t stop the way his mouth clamped shut or what he knew was a telltale flush of color.

“Oh my god.” She chuckled. “He did, didn’t he? Who was it? Cameron? Or Carmen? Did my detective dad know? This is too funny.”

A smart husband knows when to confess everything, and this was one of those times. “Draegyn started it by poking Tori, but she wouldn’t play. I believe she informed him that he was a giant asshole for snooping. So he went to Cam, who contacted Calder, who then involved my dad.”

“Good lord,” she said with an astonished expression.

“Didn’t you ever wonder where that whole prenup thing started?”

When she scowled, he worried for the safety of his balls. “You mean that horrible document you had Parker draw up?”

Alex squirmed. He’d done some bonehead things, but the prenup ranked right up there. It didn’t matter that it was about protecting her and not him.

“Yes, well, my father and uncle took one look at your financials, and from that moment on, it was me who wasn’t nearly good enough for you.”

“Sometimes, I hate that money,” she growled.

He feathered his fingers down her cheek. “I know but look at all the good things you’re doing with it. The Double M is changing lives. Your secret outreach project with the homeless vets is paying it forward, babe.”

“Has Parker talked to you? About the foundation thing.”

“Yeah. But now’s not the time,” he told her. “Not with everything that’s going on. As it is, he’s turning the day to day at Sullivan Legal over to Mischa. Uncle Matt is on board with the full partnership. Petrakis is an okay guy. The firm will be in good hands.”

“But he’ll still do our stuff and Justice, right? Plus the Valleja-Marquez trust?”

“Yes, and the Cameron’s. He manages all of Cam’s legal affairs, and Calder is using him for something involving his former business partner. And then the Bishops. Pretty much what’s going to happen is that Family Justice, the agency, and my family Trust will be all he handles. The shithead will make a fuck-ton in retainer fees, and he already charges Justice out the ass.”

“Does that mean Draegyn is also making a change? Tori told me that after his parents' kamikaze mission and Desi adamantly putting her foot down that he was going to jettison everyone who had any connection to the St. John Trust. I think his longtime accountant was the first to go.”

“It’s time,” he told her. “That bullshit they pulled pushed him to the maximum. Sinjin isn’t to be fucked with. You don’t see him the way Cam and I do or the way the whole team knows him to be. The 007 crap distracts from what a scary motherfucker the dude is. If the shit ever hits the fan, he’ll be the first one to lock and load. I’m not surprised he’s cleaning house. And neither is Cam.”

She nodded, but he knew their conversation was, for the moment, over. Her green eyes drifted around the special place that came to mean so much to them.

The air was full of possibility. He took a deep breath and gave thanks for all they had.

Things were changing, but wasn’t that what life was all about? When he came home to Arizona, Alex did so with the hope that the magic he found in his home state would heal his body and soothe a warrior’s troubled soul.

Drae and Cam soon followed. The desert gave each of them the space to breathe and reconnect. If all they ever did was straighten out their respective shit and start the agency, by any normal measure, they’d be successful.

But Cam broke the mold first. His finding Lacey was the change that sparked a metamorphosis. For all of them.

And those changes continued.

He thought about Carmen and Duke. If ever someone thought her life was settled, it was his beloved second mother. Life had other ideas for her, though, and now here she was, in her sixties, about to be a bride for the second and last time to a great guy. And they were raising Duke’s grandson together. None of that seemed remotely possible just a year ago.

Family Justice was bursting at the seams. Old faces tumbled into Bendover and set down roots. New couples formed. Old couples reunited. Pets joined the family tree along with a brigade of babies and the promise of more on the horizon.

Life was good. For everyone.

And then he remembered the threat hanging over all of them. He was on to something. With each passing day, he was more convinced that his instinct about the data incursion was correct. All he needed was confirmation.

But the confirmation he needed was only one tiny part of a gigantic ever-changing mural of moving parts. There was still the matter of finding the connector—the linchpin that would help him create the roadmap to end this damn thing.

“Goddammit, Finn O’Brien! Where the fuck are you hiding?”

The shrill, furious voice took Remy by complete surprise. Some of the overflowing handful of straws she was repackaging flew into the air when she flinched.

A huffing, puffing freight train sounded like it was approaching, and then Angie Sullivan swung around a corner of the storage room, belly first, located Finn with her eyes, stomped her foot, and growled, “Do you know what you’ve done? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“If that’s a real question”—Remy chuckled—“you better pull up a chair because the list is long and growing almost daily.”

Angie reacted with startle. She must not have realized anyone else but Finn was doing inventory in the back of Pete’s.

“Oh, hey, Remy. Sorry,” the pregnant and pouting woman muttered when she saw the straws covering the floor. “Is it okay if I murder your boyfriend?”

She laughed, then looked at Finn whose expression indicated he had no idea what blew up Angie’s skirt. “Have at it.”

Her Irish hottie had the sense to approach the angry pregnant lady with caution. “Uh, Angie? What did I do this time?”

Remy watched the discussion unfold from a crouch as she swept up the scattered straws. The Sullivan baby bump looked completely different from a lower angle.

Agitated and seemingly about to scalp Beantown, the expectant mom wasn’t having her best day. Remy scowled at Finn and motioned with her head that he should do something.

“Okay, Mrs. Sullivan,” he drawled. “How about we find you a place to sit and then you can rip my head off.”

“Dammit, Finn,” Angie blubbered. “Don’t be nice. It makes it harder to be mad at you.”

He grinned. “Blame my da,” he crowed. “He put us boys through our paces where taking care of our women is concerned.”

“I’m not your responsibility,” Angie whined.

True to form, Finn wasn’t having it. He swept forward and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Yes, you are. All the Justice women are my responsibility. Signed a contract in blood and made a vow. Alex insisted, the douchebag, so save your breath.”

When he glanced over his shoulder at her, Remy reacted with a quick nod. She went to Angie and looped the woman’s arm with hers.

“You know what? Let’s go have tea. Kelly sent a hibiscus blend that will make even a coffee nut smile.”

“Coffee.” Angie sighed. “Tea is nice, but I miss my java jolt.”

She led them from the storage room and in the direction of Finn’s business annex. It was slow going, as Angie wasn’t built for speed.

“Hey,” she said with a squeeze of Angie’s arm. “Have you got your Halloween costume?”

“Parker’s being difficult. He’s got this thing about anything that shows off too much detail of the bump.” She looked over her shoulder; probably to make sure Finn was far enough away not to hear. “I don’t find the expecting nun costume funny, so my choices are limited.”

“I might have an idea. Goofy but cute and I guarantee the lawyer won’t have anything on which to base a case. I’ll make some sketches and text you later, okay?”

Angie rubbed her belly. "Thanks. What about you? Please tell me you and Finn have something awesome planned.”

Sniggering, she gave the little woman an eye-rolling smirk. “I refused to even consider Elvis and Priscilla. His damn ego is already out of control.”

In the annex, Remy got Angie settled comfortably and turned on the kettle. Finn cautiously joined them.

“Tell me what I did, Angie, and I’ll fix it.”

“I don’t think it’s fixable,” Angie muttered darkly. “But I wish you’d run this past me way earlier, so maybe I could have intervened.”

“Run what past you? I don’t understand.”

“How would you?” Angie laughed mirthlessly. “It’s so off the wall that I can’t imagine anyone could guess.”

Remy bristled at the circular conversation that wasn’t revealing much. “Guess what?” she asked to help move things along.

“Brace yourselves,” Angie drawled. She pinned her gaze on Finn. “Meghan told me you have a mechanical bull lined up for the Spooktacular. Is that right?”

He chuckled because Finn was damn proud of every single detail of the weeklong festival of fuckery Pete’s had planned.

“Yep! And there’s an experienced bull handler coming too who works the mechanical riding circuit.”

“Hmph,” Angie grunted. “Well, I hope your pro has the skill to try an unseat a champion.”

Finn laughed. “What? Who?”

Angie frowned. “Sophia.”

Remy was jolted by this news, and mumbled, “Say what now?”

“You heard me right,” Angie jeered. “Sophia Marquez makes Debra Winger in Urban Cowboy look like an amateur.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Finn’s face was a mask of incredulity, and Remy couldn’t blame him. Sophie was a shit stirrer, not a player. How the hell did she end up a champion mechanical bull rider?

“Not even a little bit,” Angie drily answered. “We lived in Spain, remember? Bulls and Spain? They go together like this,” she drawled with her fingers crossed. “Long story short, Sophie and an energetic bull ride are a bar fight instigator.”

Finn groaned. “Oh, great. Another reason for Zorro to rip my nuts off.”

“Shit,” Remy muttered. As someone who had an unfortunate amount of experience instigating drunken brawls, she saw the problem.

“And I just bet,” Angie quipped, “that you never figured the women would be your biggest headache. Sophie and the bull, Kelly and the billiards, and this one.” She chuckled with a nod in her direction. “Aren’t you playing in the poker tournament?”

“You lot are a bunch of trouble,” Finn stated with an enormous grin and a voice full of amusement.

Remy looked at him, smirked, and pointedly eyed his crotch before glancing away. “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong. Isn’t your sister officially my cousin’s problem?”

Angie bristled, and Remy wanted to kick her stupid self for the poor choice of words. “Sophia is not a problem.”

She was quick to apologize. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I meant now that they are engaged, any antics by your sister would fall on Jace’s plate.”

“That won’t stop her. Shocking people is too much fun. She’s a rebel and always will be. One of the reasons I love her so much,” she quietly added.

“The Spooktacular is shaping up to be one hell of a wild ride. My little festival of fuckery, as my lady calls it, is sure to become an instant legend. We’ve had to get wristbands made for the battle of the bands. Barry is shitting himself daily over the numbers. As if the Desert Thunder fan base wasn’t people enough, those fucking Chixie Dicks are bussing in their crew. We’ve gone from reserving one poop wagon to a ten-station trailer with men and women accommodations.”

“I predict a week of shocking events, Angie,” Remy cheerfully added. “If Sophie wants attention, she’ll have to get in line.”

As the slideshow ended, Drae didn’t try to be humble or act anything less than ecstatic about the job his apprentice crew did for Whiskey Pete’s. The mentoring program he developed through the Double M was everything he’d hoped it would be. His first formal group learned quickly and made him proud of the fantastic carpentry work they did.

“Fucking A, Drae. That thing is amazing. The design concept kicks ass. What are you calling it? Gazebo meets outdoor stage?”

He chuckled at Alex’s words but had to admit that his description was spot-on.

“That fuckstick,” Drae snarkily sneered while pointing at Cam, “made me sit through The Music Man. Twice! Jesus fucking Christ!”

Cam gave him an arched brow while pretending to pick a pubic hair from his teeth. Jason Cameron was the perfect foil for pretty much every word, thought, and deed that Drae ever had. He loved their brotherly dynamic.

“Anyway, there’s a town square and a gazebo that got me thinking about Finn’s idea.” 

Parker threw the concept drawing that started all this down on the table. “I still fucking hate that shithead, but he’s a brilliant businessman.” He sat back heavily, crossed his arms, and darkly muttered, “Dumbass.”

Alex sniggered. So did Cam. Jace nodded approvingly, and Rafe said nothing. As a matter of fact, the bald giant seemed unnervingly silent through most of the meeting.

“Be that as it may,” Drae jeered in Parker’s direction, “even a dumbass can hit the jackpot.”

Drae found it hilarious that Finn continued to rub his old nemesis the wrong way. Anything that pissed Sullivan off made Drae’s life better.

“It was Barry and Grey who started the ball rolling. The way Barry tells it, they got shitfaced one night and came up with a plan to make Pete’s the Bendover honky tonk equivalent of Gilly’s. They were already on the right track by renovating an empty side room into a bitchin’ pool parlor.”

Cam drawled, “The velvet paintings on the wall are stupid.”

They looked at each other and rolled their eyes at the same time. So far, no one was willing to take credit for the saloon décor in the new pool parlor at Pete's. It was tacky times ten with the ridiculous, elaborate gilt-framed velvet art, earning most of the giggle-snorts. But that was nothing compared to how the room transformed under black lights. As crazy as it sounds, black light pool nights were a big hit with the customers. Pete’s knew how to bring the fun with glow-in-the-dark balls, cue sticks, and artwork that included Elvis in his white jumpsuit plus a mural of dogs playing billiards.

The space crunch was how Drae got involved in the first place. “The indoor stage takes up serious real estate in the main bar, and after updating the dining room, adding the billiards parlor, making the bathrooms bigger, and Finn’s crazy humidor room, the building was maxed out. Fuck, man, they even dropped a prefab out back across from the fire pit to be the business center. Short of building up to add a second floor, there wasn’t much more they could do.”

Alex grunted at this assessment. Every word was fact. Finn and Barry had transformed the cowboy shithole into a profitable venture by situating Pete’s as the place to go for more than a beer. They had excellent food, great live music, and unique entertainment. That they pulled this off while also making it a place for the whole family was quite a feat. 

“Yeah, we get it,” Alex grumbled. “You built an enormous outdoor pavilion with endless use possibility. Bravo,” he jeered. “Barry and Grey are geniuses, and Finn can do no wrong. Anyone care to address the part where this pavilion was built on land that, until a month ago, no one knew my brother-in-law owned?”

Did Drae notice Parker’s reaction because he was trained to see that kind of shit, or did he catch him trying to melt into the woodwork because he was always on the lookout for whatever the wily lawyer was up to?

His eyes narrowed as he considered what this behavior meant. Cam noticed his interest, which, in turn, got Alex’s attention. Jace and Rafe wisely stayed out of it.

When Alex spoke, Drae automatically snapped to attention. So did Cam, who sat straight and regarded the proceedings with renewed interest.

“Something you want to say, Parker?”

Sully shuffled papers. It was what he did. Drae sometimes wondered whether authoritative paper shuffling was something they taught in law school because the old fart could make two Post-it Notes and a scrap of paper seem like an official document.

The guy didn’t respond, which in legalese meant confidentiality was in play. Drae started to grin. He couldn’t help it. If it involved the family, things always got interesting when Alex wanted to know something, and Parker played his client privilege card.

The Major taunted Parker to gain a reaction. “I can make my sister hate you with fifteen words.”

Rafe snorted with laughter but quickly hung his head when Alex glared at him. This was between the Major and his oldest friend.

“Alex, come on,” Parker whined. “You know that’s uncool. Cut it out.”

Drae and Cam swung from regarding Sullivan to checking Alex out. It was like following a tennis match.

Alex’s gaze narrowed dangerously. Though the flames were invisible, Drae could feel their heat. The Major weighed up his response, and since he was a master tactician, whatever came next was sure to be a direct hit.

Parker, to his credit, also knew this about his friend. He winced in advance, and for a second, Drae almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But then he remembered what a butthead the guy was and let the rumpus begin.

“How did Finn manage to buy the property adjacent to the bar?”

Yep, Drae thought. Direct hit. There wasn’t a lot of land in or around Bendover that the Valleja-Marquez Trust didn’t control. The whole area was privately owned land. Owned by them for centuries. However, the parcel next to Pete’s was a five-acre plot belonging to a settler’s family who rebuffed all the Trust's offers. With that as the backstory, even he was interested in what Sully had to say.

Since the Marquez Trust knew the value of the land, the question Alex wanted answered was how in the world his brother-in-law ponied up the sort of cash it would take to buy the landowners out. When Sully responded with a noticeable deflection, Drae and Cam exchanged looks.

“You know Beantown,” Parker drawled.

Drae almost laughed at the dude’s lame attempt to pivot from the question. He had to know Alex wasn’t going to fall for it, right?

The lawyer continued. “Charmed the boots off old Harmon. The man thought Finn and his golly gosh Irish bullshit was great. Finn saw his shot and took a chance, made an offer, and the rest is history.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Alex said in a silky tone brimming with malice.

Cam moved. Drae’s eyes swung, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from barking with laughter when Cam surreptitiously used a hand sign that more or less translated to “who’s got the popcorn?”

Would Sully respond? They both swung their heads to look at Parker. From the corner of his eye, Drae saw Jace watching the proceedings with avid interest. And he should too because one day soon he was going to be in Sully’s shoes when Alex became his brother-in-law. 

He wouldn’t categorize what Alex and Parker did as eyeball combat. It was more telepathic than that. The two men had been pushing each other’s buttons their whole lives.

Parker caved. Smart man.

“He had an investor. A silent one.”

Fuck, man, Drae thought. A silent investor? Well holy shit, butter that damn popcorn because this just got good!

The tension in the room went supersonic when Alex sat forward and growled. What no one expected was for the Major to abruptly stand, shoving his chair back with more force than necessary, and all but blow fire in Parker’s direction. When he unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick, and slammed it on the table with a thud, Cam exploded with laughter and fell out of his chair.

Sully freaked out. “Jesus Christ, man. Put that thing away before someone gets hurt.”

“Answer the question unless you want to start gagging.”

“Listen to the man, Parker,” Rafe suggested with a laugh. 

“Aw, fuck. I hate you,” Parker kvetched.

Sensing triumph, Alex shoved the Marquez family jewel back into his pants and sneered at Parker the whole time. Drae loved this confrontation! Not only did Sully sweat bullets, but Alex also whipping his dick out took the entire thing to an instant classic. He couldn’t wait to tell Victoria. She was going to keel over laughing.

Parker snapped. “It was our dads. Okay? They stepped up and financed the purchase on the condition that Harmon never know they were involved.”

“Whoa,” Cam interjected. His laughter from seconds ago died upon hearing that Cristián Marquez and Matthew Sullivan were involved. 

Alex not being aware of a secret deal surprised Drae.

“Excuse me?” Alex’s bark made every man in the room protect his balls. “What are those two reprobates up to? And what’s your part in this?”

Parker amped the comedy quotient by yelling. “Well, shit, Alex. Obviously, I’m the smarmy lawyer, and as to what they’re up to, how the fuck do I know?”

“I want details,” Alex hollered louder.

“Back off, Alex,” Parker bellowed. “I should lose my license for what I’ve already said.”

“Fuck your license,” a red-in-the-face Alex screamed. “Your license means exactly zero when it comes to family.”

Comedy balanced precariously for a heartbeat, and then all hell broke loose. Drae wasn’t sure who lunged first, but luckily, Cam was paying close attention so they were able to intervene when the old friends became unexpectedly physical. 

Tempers were flaring, and until the present situation with the family under serious threat was eliminated, who knew what other hidden fuses would get lit?

“Stand down,” Rafe bellowed. He walked straight into the melee and stopped the escalating aggression by forcefully shoving Parker away and sternly demanding that the Major sit the fuck down. His actions were like letting air out of a balloon. Both men breathed heavily but dialed back the aggression until everyone was calmer and breathing normally.

Stunned by the turn of events, Drae tried to make sense of how a presentation about his apprentice carpenters turned into a snarling slugfest. The answer was easy. They were all strung incredibly tight, causing tempers to flare for no reason. They were warriors under threat. Warriors with families and loved ones to protect. Shit was bound to get funky sooner or later, and it looked to him like they were all in it now. Up to their eyeballs.