Cam crossed the floor to the bar, his eyes trained with dagger-like intensity on Drew McMann’s familiar taut shoulders, struggling to remember why he’d ever liked the guy.

Drew was someone’s idea of the perfect specimen, no doubt - dark hair and eyes, shock-and-awe brilliance with all things legal, intense focus. He was an amazing litigator and generous, careful bed partner. Outside of the bedroom, though, he’d been an absolutely shiteous boyfriend, accusing Cam of inventing drama every time he took exception to Drew’s high-handedness. And still Cam had wanted them to be able to work together, for the sake of their history - their parents’ friendship, Drew’s decades-long friendship with Bas. But if Drew’s bullshit was going to undermine Cam’s position at Seaver Tech, Cam wouldn’t tolerate it.

“Drew, I need to talk to you.”

Drew took a sip of his drink - bourbon, no doubt - but didn’t turn. “That’s novel. I thought you preferred ignoring my existence.”

“I attempt to ignore your attitude,” Cam corrected. “What is this FBI investigation, Drew? And why the hell did I have to hear about it from David Pearce?”

“It’s not a big deal.” Drew waved a careless hand in the air. “I took care of it.”

“The big deal is you didn’t tell me, Drew.” Cam darted a glance around to verify that they were alone, and caught sight of the broad-shouldered blond from earlier, standing near the exit. He was alone, a drink in his hand, and if it weren’t so utterly impossible, Cam would swear the guy was looking right at him.

Focus Seaver. On Drew, not the Viking.

He turned back to Drew and lowered his voice as he continued. “You didn’t give me a chance to figure out how I wanted to deal with it.”

Drew finally turned to look at him. “Why is it you can never trust me to handle things for you? Why do you have to be such a control freak?”

The irony of the statement seemed to sail over Drew’s head.

Cam rolled his eyes and Drew’s nostrils flared. “Fine, you want to know? Yeah, the FBI sent us a notification that they’re investigating a data breach that came from Seaver. It appears some classified information may have been accessed.”

“But we have security clearances,” Cam said in confusion.

“Come on, Cammy. You know information isn’t all classified to the same degree.” The look Drew shot him was the dictionary definition of condescending. Coupled with the stupid fucking nickname, it sent Cam’s blood pressure soaring. “They’re saying we didn’t have authorization to access the server that was accessed, and it wasn’t accessed in an approved manner, using government-supplied credentials.”

“Jesus. They think we hacked them?” Cam demanded in a harsh whisper. “What do we need to do?” His fingers clenched tightly on the glass in his hand.

“We don’t need to do anything! I told you, it’s bullshit and it’s already been taken care of.” Drew took another sip of his bourbon.

“So, there was no breach?”

Drew looked at him like he was an idiot, then gave him a smug smile. “Of course there was a breach. We did our own internal investigation of the equipment and the credentials used.”

“And?” Cam demanded.

Drew shrugged, and Cam lost control of his temper.

“God, Drew! This is what I fucking mean! You can’t give me even half an answer. Tell me!”

“Tell you?” Drew slid back from the bar and leaned toward Cam, all cold anger and intimidation. “Tell you the electronic signatures indicate Bas was the one who hacked them? Tell you your brother probably didn’t answer the FBI’s questions because he knew he could incriminate himself? Tell you the best way to handle this was to throw our weight around so nobody looked too closely? Tell you Sebastian could go to jail for a very long time if he actually got caught? How much do you really want to know, Cam?”

Cam felt gravity tilt slightly, so his feet no longer felt firmly planted on the ground. “Bas?” He could only manage to utter the single syllable.

Drew’s anger seemed to drain out of him as he took in Cam’s shocked expression. He blew out a breath. “Cammy—”

Cam shook his head. “How is that… It’s just not… No. Not possible.”

Bas had graduated college at seventeen. He’d designed artificial intelligence technology in high school still being used by the military today. If he wanted to hack a system to obtain information, he’d take every piece of information right down to the size of your dick and you’d never even know he’d been there. Cam knew jack shit about hacking and electronic signatures, but he knew that much.

Drew sighed. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but Bas is messed up right now. You know it. I stopped by his house the other day, and he was sitting in the dark watching home movies from when we were kids. You and him, me and Amy, our parents, the Shaws. He’s still grieving, still obsessing about the crash.” He took a deep breath. “And the agency he hacked was the NTSB.”

Cam reached out a hand to steady himself against the bar and motioned to the bartender to get him another of what Drew was drinking. The floating feeling he’d experienced a moment ago got worse as he processed Drew’s words. The National Transportation Safety Board had investigated the plane crash that had killed Cam’s parents and Drew’s sister Amy… but none of this made any sense.

“There’s nothing to hack there, Drew,” Cam said, shaking his head. “The investigation was concluded two months after the crash. We all got the report. The pilot was seen drinking heavily before the flight and failed to check the engine. It was pilot error.”

Drew nodded. “I know. But you know Sebastian never accepted it. He wanted accountability. He wanted somebody punished.”

Cam rubbed his fingers against his forehead again. It had been impossible to punish anyone, of course, when nobody had walked away from the crash. He remembered Bas’s reaction vividly, since it had involved piles of shattered glass in the living room of their parents’ home, and had preceded Bas falling off the face of the earth for a solid week. It had been the first disappearance of many.

“What the hell was he looking for when he hacked them?”

“You think I’d know?” Drew snorted. “Two years ago, I could have told you every single thought in your brother’s head. We shared everything. But I lost him after the crash the same way I lost Amy.”

His words were so bleak, the sentiment so close to what Cam himself had felt, that Cam felt his anger subside.

“I think it was probably even earlier,” he said quietly. “You thought he was crazy when he asked Amy to marry him.”

Drew chuckled. “True. I never understood what they had in common. Amy was… Well, you know. Flighty. And Bas was mine. My friend, I mean.”

Cam nodded. Bas and Drew had been inseparable. He wondered for the first time if missing Bas had prompted Drew to start dating Cam in the first place. Trying to substitute one brother for the other. It had never really been about Cam at all.

He glanced back at the spot where his Viking had been standing, but the man had moved, maybe even left for good. He scanned across the far side of the room, but there was no one there.

Figured.

“I don’t like thinking about this shit,” Drew said, drinking deeply. “And I know you don’t like thinking about it either - God, you never even visit your parents’ graves. I didn’t want the investigation to bring it all back, so I made sure it went away.”

“I don’t need to visit their graves, Drew. There’s nothing there but names and dates.” This was familiar territory, too - an argument they’d had a hundred times. Cam wouldn’t be baited. This wasn’t about him, this was about Drew keeping things from him.

Drew pierced him with a glance. “And you don’t need to cry. And you were fine boxing up all your parents’ shit and selling the house two months after they died. And you don’t need to hang out with your friends or volunteer anymore.”

Cam sighed. “Can we please not…”

“You run away from everything emotional,” Drew concluded.

Cam shook his head firmly. “And here we were getting along for a whole five minutes.” Why was everything with Drew so fucking complicated? He hardened his voice. “From now on, full communication. Understood?”

Drew lifted his drink in a mocking salute. “Sure thing, boss.”

Cam slammed back the rest of his own drink and straightened. It was still early, but surely he’d endured enough torture for one night. Time to go. Maybe he’d see if the sexy Viking from earlier was out in the lobby, and…

Ha. Cam couldn’t even complete the fantasy.

A guy who looked like that would want nothing to do with a man like Cam. Cam would just head home and play video games.

“Well, if it isn’t the gentlemen of the hour!”

Cam turned to see Lydia Tyndall beaming at them, and Cam found himself returning her smile with practiced ease. “Thanks so much for coming.”

Lydia’s smile grew even warmer. “Camden, dear, I wouldn’t miss it. SafeWater was like your mother’s third child, after all. She’d be proud to see how well you’ve done with it.”

Cam’s coughed to cover the sudden tightness in his throat. “Thank you.” God. This was why he preferred spending his evenings gaming. Emotions were exhausting.

She turned to Drew and put a hand on his shoulder, then beamed at them both. “And now the two of you will return the favor when you come to St. Brigitte next week!”

The Tyndalls’ fundraiser, the one Uncle Shaw had mentioned. “No, I’m afraid I can’t make it.”

Mrs. Tyndall looked crestfallen. “Oh, but Camden!”

Drew looked annoyed.

“I told Lydia earlier we’d be attending,” he said in a harsh whisper, the kind of whisper that said Don’t be childish, Cam. Don’t argue in public. We’ll discuss this later.

Once again, Drew had made a selfish decision without consulting or considering him at all. Immediately, his anger was back.

He set his jaw and lifted a hand to motion for the bartender. One more drink, to keep me from committing murder. But his hand dropped just as quickly.

The Viking was sitting at the other end of the bar, his eyes unmistakably fixed on Cam. He raised a single eyebrow and nodded to the seat next to him, a challenge and an invitation all rolled into one.

Cam was transfixed by the way the light played over the man’s hair, bringing out flecks of gold, glints of copper. Then the guy smiled - a teasing, lopsided grin - and Cam’s stomach inverted. Did he know who Cam was? Had he focused on Cam because of his name, or the tragic legend of his family? In that moment, Cam couldn’t find it in him to care. The man’s eyes - Cam still couldn’t see the color, dammit - were curious, hot, and fixed on Cam. For that look, Cam would be anyone the Viking wanted - Superman, Clark Kent, or anyone in between.

The man smiled again, wide and predatory, and every instinct in Cam’s body jumped to life, but he had no interest in running away. He couldn’t wait to get closer.

He turned to Lydia again. “I’m sorry, it’s impossible.”

Nothing they could say would get him to fly to St. Brigitte, and Drew knew it. He knew it, damn him.

Drew was glaring daggers at him, but Cam wouldn’t, couldn’t, back down. Instead, he held Drew’s angry glare for a minute, letting his own eyes go flat and cold. He would not be manipulated or pushed around, and Drew needed to understand that.

A second later, Drew ground his teeth together and looked away. If that PBS nature special on wolves was right, I’m pretty sure Drew’s now my bitch.

He gave Lydia an apologetic glance. “I’m really very sorry.”

Lydia nodded, seeming resigned. “Alright. Well, I’ll leave you both on the guest list, just in case.” She glanced back and forth between him and Drew, confused.

Whatever. Let Drew figure his way out of this one.

“If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I need to speak to,” Cam said, before kissing Lydia on the cheek.

He stalked toward the far end of the bar, his gaze locked on the man who was - holy shit - waiting for him. His heart lurched into a disjointed quick-step, and lines of poetry, actual poetry, leaped into his head. Jesus, he was a handsome man.

And that was before the man smiled at him like they’d known one another for years and slid out the stool next to his.

“Well, Camden Seaver,” the man said, sending an honest-to-God shiver down Cam’s spine. “Looked like you handed that guy his ass.” He nodded in Drew’s direction without breaking eye contact. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

Cam laughed out loud before he’d even fully processed the man’s words, and then stopped, stunned. When was the last time he’d laughed like that? He honestly couldn’t remember. The vise he’d felt clamped around his chest all night loosened and dropped away.

“Let me get you a drink,” the man said.

His eyes were green. Bright, bright green.

And just like before, all Cam could think was Yes. Finally. Yes.