If there was one thing Destiny Ford loved more than dancing, it was working. Not any kind of work, of course. Just the fun kind. The exciting kind. She’d liked being a military police officer in the Army, but she loved being a bodyguard at Protection, Inc. More action, less paperwork.

So when she hit the dance floor of her favorite club in her favorite dancing dress, she kept a tiny buzzer clipped into her bra, and was only slightly annoyed when it began to vibrate. When she ran to pick up her phone and see who was calling, even that little bit of annoyance disappeared. Her boss Hal wouldn’t call her on her night off just to chat. Something was up. Something dangerous. Maybe the police hadn’t swept up all the gangsters who’d tried to kill Hal and his mate, Ellie…

“Sorry to bother you,” came Hal’s deep voice. “But would you mind picking someone up at the airport?”

“Sure. Hang on a sec. Music’s pretty loud in here.”

Her dancing shoes clicked across the polished floor as she hurried toward the door, then made a duller clack as she stepped on to the asphalt outside. She looked for a place where they could talk privately. There was a dark alley beside the club. With her keen shifter vision, she saw that it was empty.

The sight of it reminded Destiny that Hal’s mate Ellie, a paramedic, had witnessed a murder in a dark alley and gotten shot at when the gangsters had spotted her. She’d barely escaped with her life. But that had been how she’d met Hal—she’d needed a bodyguard. So it had all worked out for the best.

If Ellie hadn’t taken a wrong turn, she’d never have witnessed the murder. Would she then have never met Hal? Or would their paths have crossed in some other way, maybe much later, as destiny drew them together?

Destiny.

She blew out a dismissive breath. She liked her name—it was pretty!—but she’d never been much of a believer in the concept. As far as she was concerned, people created their own destinies.

But whether lives were shaped by fate or chance or self-will, it was amazing how quickly and unexpectedly they could change. If Destiny stepped into that alley, might that be the seemingly small and random decision that would send her life down an unexpected new path?

Smiling at her own unlikely fantasy, she ducked into the alley and spoke quietly into the phone. “Is the pickup a new client? Who do they need protecting from?”

Hal gave a rumbling chuckle. “He does the protecting. He’s Special Forces—a Recon Marine. It’s Ellie’s twin brother, Ethan. He just got back from Afghanistan, and he decided to surprise her with a visit. Good thing he called her cell phone before he showed up at her apartment.”

“Oops,” said Destiny. Hal and Ellie were in his little cabin up north, hours away from town. They’d taken refuge there after the gangsters had blown up Hal’s car, then stayed for an impromptu honeymoon. “Does he know about… What does he know about?”

“Ellie filled him in on the basics,” Hal replied. “He knows she witnessed a murder, I was her bodyguard, the gangsters went after us, Protection, Inc. got evidence to put them away, they’re all behind bars awaiting trial, and Ellie and I are together. And I told him we’re not in Santa Martina right now, so I’d send one of my team to pick him up.”

“I’m alone, Hal. It’s safe to talk. So, does he know about shifters?”

“No. We thought it would be better to explain that in person.”

“In that case, I won’t show up as a tiger,” Destiny said, grinning. “Shall I drive him to the cabin?”

“If you don’t mind,” said Hal apologetically. “It’s a bit of a haul.”

“Nah, I like driving. Gimme the address.”

The truth was, Destiny was curious to see Hal’s cabin in the woods. It would be a glimpse into a side of him that she hadn’t known before. Though they’d been friends and teammates for years, in many ways Hal was as closed-off and secretive as… well, as everyone at Protection, Inc. but her and Rafa, and even Rafa had a thing or two he refused to talk about. How had a friendly, outgoing girl like her ever gotten involved with that bunch of mysterious loners?

“How’d I get tapped to be the cabbie?” she asked, inwardly placing her bet. “Least likely to object to driving for three hours in the middle of the night? First to pick up the phone?”

There was a shuffling noise, and Ellie’s clear voice came over the phone. “It was my call, Destiny. Ethan’s just come back from six months in combat, and I dropped a whole lot of surprises on him all at once. I want him to have a nice, normal, pleasant ride to the cabin with a nice, normal, pleasant person.” Hastily, she added, “Not that the other agents aren’t nice! Or normal! Or—”

“But you don’t want your brother’s first contact with Protection, Inc. to be the Dragon Prince, the Ice Queen, the Invisible Man, F-Bomb Nick, or Rico Suave,” Destiny said with a snicker. “Don’t worry, Ellie. You know me, I’m the girl next door. Pretty as a picture, sweet as pie. Absolutely normal.”

Normal, she thought as she hung up and got into her car. Yeah. I’m good at faking that.

She considered swinging by her home to change—it wasn’t exactly normal to pick someone up from the airport in a sequined minidress and silver dancing shoes—but the club was much closer to the airport than her apartment was, and it was almost 2:00 AM. Destiny had never been in Special Forces, as none of them had been open to women when she’d enlisted. But she had vivid memories of coming back to America after a long deployment, simultaneously exhausted and wired, and how endless all the waiting around the airport had felt when she just wanted to find a bed and sleep.

No. She wouldn’t keep Ethan waiting a second longer than he absolutely had to. And if he took one look at her and thought he must still be in Afghanistan, having a dream so sweet that he’d just about cry when he woke up and found himself sleeping on the ground and surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, grimy, very male Marines, well, a little looking never did anyone any harm.

And hey, he was a Recon Marine, which meant he had to be in fantastic shape. She might do a little looking herself. And who knows? If they hit it off, they might do more than just look…

Down, girl, Destiny ordered herself. You haven’t even met him yet. You might hate each other. And won’t that be fun, stuck in a car together for hours with a jerk.

She didn’t even know why she’d drifted into thoughts of romance with some random guy. Destiny supposed it was by association: he was the brother of the woman her boss was in love with, therefore she thought of love. And there was absolutely no question that Hal and Ellie were deeply, devotedly, permanently in love. They had to be: they were mates.

Destiny had known about mates, of course, but she’d never expected to find one herself. Up until a couple weeks ago, none of her teammates had mates, which had reinforced her impression that it was more of an ideal than a common reality. Then Hal had walked into the office with Ellie on his arm, his rugged features transformed with happiness like nothing she’d ever seen on him before. Like nothing she’d ever seen, period.

Could I have that? Destiny had wondered, awed. Is there someone out there who’ll look at me like they’re looking at each other, like I’m the most precious thing in the whole wide world?

As she braked for a red light, she thought of how Hal had walked into a police station to meet a stranger, and his life had changed forever. If Destiny had a mate, could he be closer than she thought? Could he be in the next car over, just waiting for her to turn her head and see him?

Unable to resist, she looked inside the next car over. The driver was a woman.

That would be a no, Destiny thought, amused at herself.

As she drove toward the airport, she shook her head, chasing away those fantasies. Sure she was going to find her one-and-only, her destined true love, tonight. No, she’d be patient—she’d always been good at that—and content herself with the knowledge that mates actually were a real thing, and maybe someday, if she was very very lucky, in another year or five or ten or even fifty, she might meet hers.

It was only as she walked up to the airport that she realized that she had no idea what Ethan looked like. Sure, he was Ellie’s twin, but they were brother and sister—fraternal twins, not identical. They might not resemble each other at all.

Destiny shrugged. With any luck, Ellie had called him back and told him to keep an eye out for a petite, curvy, African-American woman. If not, she supposed she could scrounge up some paper and make a sign.

Then she stepped into Passenger Arrivals, and laughed at herself. Of course. She could just look for the Marine. There he was, a strong-looking man in faded fatigues sitting on a military-issue duffel bag, with sandy blond hair in a slightly grown-out crew cut. His face was turned away because he was busy scanning the rest of the airport as if he expected an ambush. She remembered that from the Army, that constant battle-ready wariness. It took a while to wear off.

She walked up to him. He was on his feet and turning to her in a flash, moving with a fluid agility that made her briefly wonder if he was a shifter. No, couldn’t be. He’d have told his twin. It was probably just a Special Forces thing. After all, they were the best of the best.

Their eyes met.

A jolt went through Destiny, like his intense gaze had physical form. His eyes were so beautiful—blue-green as a tropical sea, with golden lashes like the rising sun. Looking into them, she felt like she was recognizing him rather than seeing him for the first time, as if he were her long-lost best friend from childhood…

…grown up hot, she couldn’t help thinking. Look at those muscles! Yum.

He was checking her out too, she could see, so she gave him the subtlest of shimmies to enjoy while she checked him out right back. He did resemble Ellie, though his features were hard and masculine where hers were soft and feminine. And his body, of course, was completely different, all hard-earned muscle instead of plump curves, with broad shoulders and biceps to die for. Destiny had always been a connoisseur of the male upper body, and Ethan’s was fine. But the twins had the same snub nose and strong chin, and the same ready smile.

They didn’t quite have the same blue-green eyes. Similar, sure. But Ellie’s were just… pretty. Ethan’s were extraordinary—the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Destiny couldn’t stop gazing into them. Women must be all over him all the time. Or maybe not, if he did a lot of covert missions in the wilderness. Hmm…

Ethan offered her his hand. “Hi. I’m Ethan McNeil. Are you my ride? If you’re not, can I help you with anything?”

If Rafa had said that line, it would’ve been a seductive double entendre. Ethan had a sexy voice, sure. But he just sounded friendly and confident. Like if she’d said she wasn’t his ride but there was a creepy man following her and could she borrow his phone, he’d have handed it over, then gone and dealt with the creep himself.

“I’m Destiny Ford.” She gripped his hand, giving him a little taste of her strength. She could never resist doing that to men when she first met them. It was such an easy way to sort out the men who were intimidated by or disliked strong women from the men who respected them.

Ethan smiled, clearly neither intimidated nor put off. “Good grip. You have got to be one of the bodyguards.”

“Tonight I’m just your cabbie. Grab your gear. I’m parked right outside.”

He bent to pick up his duffel bag. As he hefted it over his shoulder, his loose sleeves fell back, exposing tattoos in abstract patterns, stark black against his tanned skin. Destiny only caught a glimpse before the camouflage cloth slid down and hid them again, but she saw enough to intrigue her. He’d kept his hands, neck, and face clear of tattoos, in keeping with military regulations, but how many did he have under his uniform?

She hoped she’d get a chance to find out. She liked him.

As they walked outside together, she said, “It’s about a three-hour drive to Hal’s cabin. So are you more tired or more hungry? We could grab some food first. Or we could leave now and you could sleep all the way there. Up to you.”

“The question is, are you more tired or more hungry?” Ethan asked. “And you don’t have to do all the driving. I can pull my weight.”

And there was yet another thing she remembered from the Army: the refusal to admit that you were tired until you actually collapsed from exhaustion, and maybe not even then. It was all coming back to her now. Ethan wouldn’t admit he was too tired to drive unless he was actually worried that he’d fall asleep at the wheel, and given that he was a Recon Marine, he must be used to operating military vehicles on no sleep. If she said, “Yes, thank you, why don’t you take a turn at the wheel?” he’d grab some bad coffee at a drive-through, drive the whole way without a single word of complaint, and get them to the cabin in total safety.

Well, she wasn’t going to let him. He was back from the war; he deserved some good food and rest.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “But I’m not tired. I was just leaving a club when Hal called.”

Ethan gave another appreciative glance at her dress. “I wondered. I like dancing too.”

Oh, she just bet he did. He was obviously the work hard, play hard type—like her. She was about to ask him if he’d like her to show him the local clubs later when he said, “I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying at the cabin with Ellie, but when I come back, can I take you dancing?”

Destiny gave her hips a shake, making her sequined skirt flare out. “I don’t know. Think you can keep up with me?”

“I think I’ll have a hell of a lot of fun trying.”

“You’re on. Now are you going to tell me what sort of food you like, or shall I guess?”

“Guess. I’ve been eating MREs for six months. Anything not packaged in plastic and cooked with a chemical heater will be an improvement. Oh—that means Meals Ready to—”

Destiny swung out an elbow to jab him in the ribs. “I know what an MRE is, jarhead. I ate my share in the military police.”

Ethan’s amazing eyes widened as he once again looked her over, this time lingering on her muscles and the little scar on her shoulder, which he probably thought was a combat wound. (It was actually from her current teammate and former gangster Nick Mackenzie biting her, back when they were on opposite sides.)

Unlike some men—military men included—finding out that she’d been in the Army didn’t make Ethan feel like he had to out-macho her. Instead, he grinned like she was… not his best friend, it was too sexy for that… like she was his hot best friend whose clothes he’d like to rip off so he could have his wicked way with her, immediately.

“You were an MP?” Ethan stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, mudpuppy.”

That nickname for the military police took her back—she hadn’t had anyone call her “mudpuppy” in years. All those military nicknames, from “jarhead” for Marines to “mudpuppy” for military police to “squid” for sailors, the mostly-joking rivalries between branches… and, of course, the one thing everyone could agree on, which was the absolute awfulness of the military rations.

“What was your favorite MRE?” he went on.

“You mean, which was the least disgusting? I guess the maple sausage.” She fished around mentally for another Marine nickname. It was a shame that most of theirs were so badass sounding. You could hardly tease anyone with leatherneck or devil dog. “What’s yours, crayon eater?”

“Pork ribs. They really weren’t bad if you ate them as soon as you heated them up.” He sounded genuinely wistful.

Destiny vowed to get him to a good barbecue place, ASAP. And she knew just the one. If he actually liked the pork rib MRE, he’d think he’d died and gone to Heaven when she treated him to a meal at Aunt Lizzie’s Back Porch.

She opened the trunk so he could toss in his duffel bag. Ethan looked inside, inspected her survival supplies, and laughed. “What are we, twins separated at birth? This looks like the trunk of my car. Only I have MREs instead of beef jerky and granola bars and dried fruit.”

“I rotate my survival supplies to keep them fresh, so the edibles have to be things I actually like to eat.”

“I only stock up on MREs that I actually like.”

“Did you get your taste buds shot off in the war?” Destiny inquired. “I’m having second thoughts on the restaurant trip. Maybe I should go in and eat, and leave you in the car with a bone to gnaw on.”

“If it’s a pork rib bone…”

Destiny chuckled as she pulled out of the parking garage. She rolled down the window to enjoy the night air. The streets of Santa Martina were almost empty. Everyone was either asleep at home or dancing at a club. It had rained earlier, and the moonlight turned the streets to ribbons of liquid silver.

Ethan leaned back in his seat, relaxing, but his gaze was alert as he watched the city sights go by. When she turned on South Hanford, she caught his eyelids flicker in the slightest expression of alarm. Her own adrenaline instantly rose—had he seen something suspicious? But he said nothing, and as the one landmark on South Hanford came into view, she remembered that he must have been in Santa Martina plenty of times before to visit his sister.

Doing her best to keep a straight face, she pulled up at one of Santa Martina’s few 24-hour restaurants (if you could call it a restaurant, which was debatable), a concrete block topped with a giant bacon-wrapped hotdog made of chipped, unappetizing-looking plaster.

“Big Bacon!” Destiny announced. “That’ll hit the spot. It’s a Santa Martina landmark.”

“I know. One of Ellie’s friends took me there once. A paramedic, Catalina. Do you know her?”

She shook her head. “But she’s got good taste! Did you love it?”

Ethan’s brow furrowed. He was clearly making a valiant effort to not insult her favorite restaurant. Finally, he said, “It’ll be great to get some real American food. Just the thing to make me feel like I’m really back home.”

Destiny had meant to string him along a little longer, but his attempt at tactfulness made that impossible. She burst out laughing. In between gasps for air, she managed to get out, “You call Big Bacon real American food? Which side are you on?”

“Just because I fight for the US doesn’t mean I think it’s perfect,” Ethan said, trying and failing to glare at her. With a sweeping gesture that exposed another tantalizing glimpse of his tattoos, he said, “And there’s the proof: the worst hotdog joint in existence, anywhere in the world. Did you know that during the Vietnam war, we had a hotdog MRE everyone called the Five Fingers of Death? I always imagined that it tasted exactly like Big Bacon.”

“Maybe you should reconsider whether your sister’s buddy is your buddy too.”

“Catalina has a great sense of humor,” he replied. “Like you.”

Still snickering, Destiny got on the freeway and headed north. They were soon on the edge of town, where businesses and houses gave way to fields and clumps of trees. And something else that she bet Ethan didn’t know about or he’d be looking excited right about now. Aunt Lizzie’s was one of the best-kept secrets of Santa Martina. (Secret because locals didn’t want it overrun by tourists.)

She took the exit that looked like it ran straight into a field, and began bumping along the dusty, unlit dirt road. Destiny snuck a quick glance at Ethan, wondering if he’d object or ask if this was another joke. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, utterly relaxed and ready to take on whatever was coming. Now that was a man with confidence.

Her headlights illuminated what appeared to be a barn, but warm yellow light shone through the windows and there were a few cars parked outside. Destiny pulled up beside them.

“Aunt Lizzie’s Back Porch,” she announced.

Ethan opened his door and took an appreciative sniff of the barbecue-scented air. Then, before she could move a muscle, he jumped out and run round to open her door for her. Not only that, but he offered her his arm.

Well, well, well. It had been a long time since any man had opened a car door for her. This night just kept getting better and better. She laid her hand on his arm, curling her fingers around his strong muscles. The moonlight bleached the color from him, leaving him a vision in black and white. He could have been a hero in an old movie, a soldier come home from WWII to find his girl still waiting for him.

I’d wait for him, Destiny thought. Oh, I know it’s too soon. But I’ve never felt this drawn to a man. This just might be my lucky night.