BACK TO TEXAS

Sienna Black

www.loose-id.com

Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

*****
This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (homoerotic sex, mnage, violence).

Back to Texas
Sienna Black
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright April 2007 by Sienna Black All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-444-2 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Jana Hanson Cover Artist: Croco Designs

www.loose-id.com

Chapter One

When Sela Reeves signed the Agency contract, she thought she'd been pretty clear. She wanted the job for the opportunity to make a difference on a grand scale. The fact that she'd get to see the world just counted as a fantastic bonus. In her interview, she mentioned there were only a few places she flatly refused to go. "Back to Texas" topped the list. She still didn't know exactly what she'd been thinking when she agreed to take the Lone Tree case. Now, she was headed deep into the heart of the state she'd planned to leave behind for good to track down a gunrunner. If she'd been driving, she'd have taken the first detour to anywhere else. Instead, she rode in the passenger's seat with her bare feet on the dashboard and her eyes closed. Maybe if she didn't watch the too-familiar landscape pass by, the knot of dread in her stomach would disappear. "We can pretend it's our honeymoon." "We could, if we were pretending to be married." Marcus Hughes, her partner, had a voice like sin and chocolate combined. She'd listen to him read the phone book, given the opportunity. When she added his looks into the equation, Sela couldn't even grumble about early morning missions. She looked forward to going to the "office," wherever that might be on any given week. Who minded getting dirty with a guy like Marcus at their side?

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She slid her hand onto his thigh without looking. He was hard to miss. He was built, to put it mildly. She gripped his leg, massaging rather than just holding. Muscle tensed and jumped beneath her fingers. "We've played husband and wife before." He caught her hand, plucked it loose and dropped it back into her lap. The vehicle didn't swerve at all. "That's not our cover this time. We're college friends. We're doing a road trip reunion and stopping at the ranch on the way." A deadly silence filled the cab of the Cherokee. Norah Jones murmured lowly, the music not quite loud enough to be audible. Still, Sela could have joined in on the chorus if she'd been in the mood. "You're kidding, right?" Now she looked over at him, hoping for some hint of his hidden sense of humor. "Nope." The tightness around Marcuss mouth meant disapproval. A hundred different scenarios would have made better cover and they both knew it. Sela bit back the first unpleasant words that came to mind and looked out her window. She tried not to grind her teeth. She'd signed a contract saying she'd follow orders, but hanging their asses out a window and inviting everybody passing by to take a shot didn't make any kind of sense. "So, we're newlyweds." "Sela ..." Marcus used his down-to-business voice. She turned to face him, tucking her knees as she twisted beneath the seat belt. "Marcus. It's lame. You know it as well as I do. What university did we go to? When did we graduate? What was your major and what fraternity did you pledge? Are you going to tell stupid drinking stories about smashing beer cans against your forehead?" She paused to let the barrage of questions sink in. "We can make the newlywed thing work for us." After seven years of partnership, there were no secrets. Things went unsaid and untested, but the emotions and the urges were still there. If they pretended to be a couple head over heels in love, they knew all the tricks that'd sell the story. Casual caresses. Secret

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smiles that spoke of things they'd shared and could relive with just a glance. The kind of easy familiarity that came from living just underneath someone's skin. Sela put her hand on Marcuss shoulder, letting it rest there until she felt some of the tension bleed out. She stretched a finger, tracing the corner of his jaw. He didn't flinch. He didn't shy away. She saw his fingers tighten on the steering wheel, but he didn't tell her to stop. She wanted to know just how far he'd let her push. She'd wanted him from the moment they met, though she told herself she was out of line and crazy for the first two years. A good agent didn't sleep with the man guarding her back, no matter how hot he looked or what she dreamed about him at night. So what if he moved like a predator, all coiled power and surprising grace? So what if his smile made your stomach tight and your panties wet? No mixing business with pleasure. Two years, and she couldn't stand it anymore. She kissed him in Rio de Janeiro, caught up in the spirit of a festival. Surprise flared in his caramel-colored eyes, only to be followed by understanding and desire. He got her all but naked on the cruise through the Antilles. If the ambassador hadn't come back to his suite, they'd have committed a whole new sort of international crime. Unspoken feelings hummed between them, just another aspect of a normal day on the job. They were both too stubborn to request a transfer. They hadn't given in to those sorts of urges again, but chemistry and attraction worked in their favor. Why not use it, Sela reasoned? Why not play it up a little, dance along the knife's edge? She watched Marcus wet his lips, his tongue a glimpse of pink against the lush darkness of his skin. He swallowed and she tracked the motion. Being able to watch him from behind the safety of her shades while he couldn't turn away or hide his reactions thrilled her.

Behave, she warned herself. Let the man drive.

"Well?" She prompted, curling her fingers against the warm skin at the nape of his neck. "Is it a deal?"

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He slanted a sidelong glance at her and she knew she'd won. "It's a deal. Newlyweds."

*****
A dust cloud appeared on the horizon and Tyler was pretty damned sure it hadn't been stirred up by the wind. There was a breeze, but he could hardly feel it and he'd stripped to the waist. Mopping his forehead with his discarded shirt moved more air around than this piddly current did. A dust devil was just plain out of its league. The car must have kicked up dirt from one of the filled-in potholes on its way toward the ranch. Until they got a county crew out this way, the Lone Tree made repairs with shoveled dirt packed down by boards and boots. He didn't remember seeing anything on the schedule about a new arrival today. He wouldn't hurry to investigate, though. There was no place on the ranch he didn't know. No one got away without meeting him at least once. More than a part of making the guests feel welcome or like a temporary member of the resort family, Tyler considered it his responsibility to look each one of them in the eye. Good people tended not to make trouble when they knew the people they'd be hurting by name. So he tacked the last loose shingle in place and climbed down the ladder from the roof. He put the tools away, locked up the shed, and drank the last few swallows of lukewarm iced tea before heading up to the main buildings, thermos swinging in his hand. The newcomers were unpacking the car by the time he reached the parking lot. They each had a pair of suitcases and the man carried another bag -- a camera or something -- over his shoulder. The woman swung the back door shut as Tyler reached the bumper. She offered him a bright, beautiful smile. Tyler froze. He'd seen a lot of people pass through the Lone Tree. Bored teenagers, harried mothers and co-eds looking for a good time were part of the usual fare. He'd been hit on by giggling

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college freshman, entitled wealthy divas and all sorts in between. Which made this woman's impact all the more impressive. The sleeveless white blouse played up a golden tan. Her bangs and a few shorter locks of hair framed her face, but the majority had been pulled back in a braid so dark it glinted blue. She moved like she was having fun, confidence oozing from every pore. A lot of people, Tyler thought, had to work to make people want to know them. This woman had alluring down to an art. Then again, she always had. "Sela." Surprise made her voice too bright. "Tyler?" The big man with her looked between them, head turning as though he watched a tennis match. "You know each other? Did you know he'd be here?" His expression darkened into an impressive scowl. Sela jerked as though she'd been prodded and her gaze twitched up toward the other man. "What? No." She frowned and looked at Tyler again. "Tyler Brooks left the state after college and said he'd never come back." Tyler summoned up a smile he hoped stayed solid. His heart thudded hard against his ribs. "We both did," he reminded her. "I never thought I'd see you again." His gaze flickered to her companion and back. "It's been a long time. You look different. You look good." She looked better than good. She'd been beautiful ten years ago. Now, she was stunning. Back then, straight out of college, he'd been ready to drop everything and propose. He'd bought the ring and made the plans, but before he could ask the question, she figured him out. And shot him down. "What are you doing here, Tyler?" She folded her arms under her breasts, hugging herself. "California didn't suit?"

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He ducked his head and grinned. So he could still put her on edge. "Bottom dropped out of the tech market and my degree suddenly didn't mean so much. That and the family asked me to come back." Her brow furrowed. "Family. Here?" "Aunt and Uncle." His gaze touched on the other man again and he gestured toward him with his chin. "You gonna be polite and introduce us?" "She forgets her manners sometimes. Marcus Hughes." He held out a broad hand and Tyler took it, shaking amiably. If he tightened his grip, Marcus could have broken Tyler's hand. His smile hid an edge too, despite his restraint. Here stood a man who played it close to the chest. "So how do you know my wife?"

Wife. He might as well have punched Tyler in the stomach, for all the air he could
manage after that revelation. Marcus slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close, and the word echoed through Tyler's mind again. Wife. So she'd gotten past the point of not being ready to settle down and married after all. Married a man built like he played pro sports. He would have fit in well on the defensive line. He might have looked at home in a boxing ring. He was nothing like the type Sela once claimed to favor. In college, they'd joked about her love for cowboys. The broader the hat, the longer the legs, the bigger the rodeo buckle, the happier she was. Tyler fit the mold perfectly. At least, he had then. If this was the sort of man she favored now, he couldn't compete. All that coiled aggression and power just waited to be called into action. Marcus wore sunglasses. Tyler couldn't read his eyes, but he didn't need to see them to know he was dealing with the boss. Territory lines had been firmly drawn, and Tyler would obey. He swallowed an unreasonable lump of jealousy and summoned up another smile. "Congratulations. And hey, I didn't mean to hold you up. I just try to say hello to folks

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coming in and you happened to be here. Looks like you've got things under control, though, so I'll just --" "You're working here?" Sela stepped out of Marcuss embrace, either ignoring or oblivious to the tightening of his jaw. "Around the place," Tyler answered, nodding. "Like I said, the family owns it. I help out where I can." She hesitated, looking like she had something to say. In the next moment, her whole expression changed, warming and brightening. She slid her arm through his, the touch tentative at first, but soon she settled against his side. "Can I talk you into a tour?" Tyler tried not to think about the fact that he could feel every curve. "Show us all the places regular tourists don't get to see," she went on. "For old time's sake." He chuckled, hoping it sounded casual and cool. Talk about mixed signals. He felt sure he'd seen dismay flicker through her expression when she recognized him. Now she wanted to be friendly? He cleared his throat. "We don't rope off portions of the ranch. Anywhere your feet can take you, you're welcome to go. Or take a horse, if you're comfortable riding. The trails are all marked out." "We don't ride," Marcus said flatly. "We haven't ridden," Sela amended, but she took the hint and went back to her husband's side. "There's a first time for everything. You might look cute in a cowboy hat and boots." She grinned up at Marcus. Her husband shook his head and bent to pick up a pair of suitcases. "It's four, right?" He moved without waiting for an answer. "Good ears," Sela told him. "I'll be there in a sec." They stood side by side, watching Marcus go. A hundred things to say paraded through Tyler's mind, but he kept his peace. Where should he start?

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Sela laid her hand on his shoulder. Heat from her fingers bled through his shirt. Her touch lingered there until Marcus got out of earshot, then she pushed her shades up and left them staring at the sky. He'd forgotten just how blue her eyes were. "So." She didn't squint, though there was something tight about her eyes, as if she searched him for unseen clues. "Small world and weird coincidence. Tell me everything." He laughed, caught off guard. "Yeah, okay, now I'm sure it's you." He plucked his hat off and shoved a hand through his hair. "Nobody else gives orders that way. God, this is weird. What are the odds?" "Astronomically high and yet, here we are." Her posture relaxed and Tyler took the first deep breath he remembered in a while. "How long have you been back? I lost track of you." "Didn't figure you'd want letters. Besides, no address and DC's a big place. Writing a letter to Sela Reeves probably wouldn't have worked." He shook his head. "The old handyman retired a couple of years ago. I had nothing better to do, and it's free room and board." He paused. "Being married agrees with you. I meant what I said, you look great." Ruddy color crept into her cheeks. "Yeah, well, you filled out. Grew up. It looks pretty good on you, too. It's ... He's ... Don't mind him. He gets possessive." Tyler grinned. "I noticed. And I'm betting he's not real thrilled about you staying out here with me. How long's it been?" She stared for a moment, expression blank before she smiled. "A couple of weeks. Belated honeymoon. He's a great guy," she added. "You'd like him when he's not thumping his chest." She shifted her weight then glanced toward the cabin and back. "I should go. But maybe you'd have dinner with us while we're here? If I can get him to behave." Tyler glanced in the direction Marcus had gone. He summoned up a crooked grin and looked back at Sela. "I don't usually have dinner with the guests. And if you don't mind me saying, I think your husband's looking forward to some time alone."

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If he'd been the sort to blush, he'd have lit up like a bonfire at the smile she gave in return. "You're probably right," she all but purred. "But if we just wanted to crawl on each other, we could have stayed home, and I'm a curious kind of girl so ..." Her eyebrows lifted like punctuation to her words. "Dinner?" The answer should have been no. Tyler had a job to do and the ranch had a reputation to keep. Fraternizing with a newly-married couple, even without the past he and Sela shared, begged for trouble. "Sure. Dinner sounds good." Sela leaned close in an impulsive move and kissed his cheek. "Great," she said before he could change his mind. She picked up her suitcases and straightened. "I'll leave a message for you at the desk. It'll be fun. We love gossip." She curled a finger by way of waving and sauntered off toward their cabin. Tyler stared after her, watching her go. Who was he kidding? He watched the way her hips swayed. He shook himself, grabbed his abandoned thermos and headed for the reception lobby. The message would probably never come. He'd have to convince himself that he didn't mind.

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Chapter Two

A camera flash stopped Sela just inside the cabin door. Blue spots blinded her and she opened her eyes wide in an attempt to see around them. It didn't work. "That was obnoxious." She squeezed her eyes shut and tried again. No, still blue. "What happened to undetectable?" Marcus straightened from behind the tripod. He'd already lost himself in technical details, judging by the deep line carved between his eyebrows. "It is, when it's calibrated. I just got it set up." He paused as if he'd say something, then shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't know how long you'd be." Guilt urged her to bow her shoulders and curve in on herself, as if he could somehow see it thrumming through her. She squared them instead and stepped farther into the room so she could put the suitcases down. "I wasn't expecting him to be here, before you ask again. I honestly thought he'd stayed in California." He should have stayed, she added silently. The fact that he was here now made him a suspect. No matter what she thought of him, no matter how she felt, she had to tread lightly. God help her.

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She rested her hands on her hips. "Besides, it's called being friendly. Getting one of the locals on our side. You know, making conversation, flashing a smile?" "I know what you were trying to do." The annoyance she heard in Marcuss voice came as a surprise. She squinted across the room and studied him, trying to piece together what had put it there. He hadn't stopped playing with the camera and that meant he was thinking. Or avoiding. When he didn't want to talk, he kept his hands busy. Sela let out a quiet sigh as she picked her way through the obstacle course of equipment. And put her hand over the lens of the camera, blocking his view. "Out with it. What's going through your head?" Marcus straightened and studied her from behind his shades. The dark lenses in a sealed room were painfully out of place. "You can't even see." She plucked his glasses off without permission and folded the ear pieces down. She arched an eyebrow when he took a breath. He stopped, held it, and let it go. "That's better," she told him. "What's going on?" "Work," he told her. "This is an assignment, Sela. Not a game. Making friends, flashing smiles, old time reunions. That's not what we're here to do." "We're here to get information," she argued, tossing his shades toward the bed. "You do it your way, with high tech things. I do it my way. By talking." "Is that what you call it?" Sela frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" Marcus turned his head, muscle once more tensing at the edge of his jaw. "I'm not an idiot, Reeves. You can call it past tense or over and done with all you want, but he's still got a thing for you. If that was talking, I'm an Amish farmer. That buddy-buddy, being friendly arm through his? Give us a tour, he mimicked. "Show us all your secrets."

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"I can ask politely or I can sneak around. I thought this way would be easier. Flies like honey, Hughes." "If he helps you, he'll be looking for honey, all right." Sela blinked and stared. That tone had never come out of Marcus Hughes's mouth before. She'd warned Tyler about his possessive streak. She meant overprotective, but with that thought, suddenly she understood. She grinned slowly and held out her arm. "Pinch me." "What?" "Pinch me, I said. I'm making sure I'm awake." Marcus peered at her for a long moment before he obliged her request, none too gently. "You gonna let me in on the masochism craze?" Sela grinned wider. "Maybe when I'm finished basking." "Reeves." "All right, all right." She tried to stifle her grin as she stepped around the remaining equipment and brushed past him, heading for the bed. "I'm just enjoying your jealous streak." "Jealous?" He snorted. "You've got things all mixed up." "Do I? You're awfully defensive for a guy who doesn't care. And what about all the protest over my cover story idea? You sure didn't wait to brag about your wife to Tyler." "Establishing," Marcus argued gruffly. "Establishing our relationship, not bragging. I don't brag." "But you do get grabby." Sela sat, still amused. "Not that I mind. You know I like your hands on me." Not exactly a fair tactic, she admitted to herself, but she meant it. The unplanned reunion with Tyler had shattered his usual stoic front. If she didn't act now, when he hadn't put it back together, she might not get another chance. They were both adults, consenting

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and unattached. Skirting around the attraction simmering between them just frustrated her. Distracted her, and with Tyler here, more than ever, she admired the view. Marcus liked things tidy. He liked to make an impression when he entered a room. He didn't want to be seen as just another thug who happened to leave the streets behind. He had to be proud of his body -- he'd turned it into to a powerful machine -- but he didn't rely on muscles. He didn't go for casual, jeans and t-shirts. He wore slacks with creases down the front and polo shirts, even when he relaxed. He could dress down, and did for jobs, but the real Marcus Hughes was a class act. God, she had it bad. "You're staring." He bent over the camera again. "I'm waiting for you to argue." Sela stretched out on her side, one hand propping up her head. "Tell me to stop or something." The corner of his mouth quirked up faintly. "Would you listen?" "That's not the point." She smoothed the other hand absently over the patterned bedspread. "You're changing up the rules if you don't argue with me." Now he looked at her. His gaze wandered, taking in every inch of her from head to painted toenails and back. He cocked an eyebrow. "I thought that was what you wanted. Changing things up. My hands on you." Marcus Hughes didn't tease. Sela wasn't sure he knew the meaning of the word. Moments like this, when he acknowledged what they felt and said, didn't come often. She pushed up on her elbow. "You know I do." It got hard to breathe when Marcus moved. Not away like normal, putting distance between them so he could build up his defenses again. Not this time. He moved toward her, crossing to the bed in three long strides. He put a knee down, making the mattress tilt, and Sela scrambled to keep her eyes on him. She rolled forward, catching her weight on her free hand. They were so close now. Her pulse hiccoughed in her throat.

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He reached over her, bracing his hands on either side. His shirt skimmed her shoulder, a feather-light caress that sent shivers racing down her spine. He'd undone the top couple of buttons on his shirt, revealing a dark patch of smooth skin. Her fingers itched to touch it. "We go here, there's no turning back," he rumbled. "Can't undo it. That's not who I am." Sela laughed, mostly breath and little sound. "You say that like it's a bad thing." "Nah. Just saying." Then he kissed her, and the technicalities between warning and statement didn't matter anymore. She didn't mean to make that soft, needy sound of relief when their lips touched. As with all of the kisses they'd shared, this one started gentle, testing, like somehow they might get it wrong. Caution faded before the heat that followed. Sela licked his bottom lip and Marcus took advantage of the opening, thrusting his tongue deep to claim her mouth. Owned. Possessed. She wound her arms around his neck and rolled to her back, not willing to let go, not wanting him to pull away. He moved with her, shifted his weight so that he ended up braced over her. His arms didn't tremble. He felt rock solid and steady while she thought she might fly apart. They'd been here before, though, and Sela wanted more. They'd gotten hot and heavy and caught up in one another. Every time, something managed to pull them apart. Not now, not this time. Do something, she willed him. Touch me. She might as well have spoken the command aloud. Their mouths parted and while Sela gasped for air, Marcus shifted his weight again. He worked one hand beneath the edge of her shirt and stroked his thumb against her ribs, then slid it to her breast, tracing the outer swell. His fingers left a memory trail of heat in their wake. Her nipples tightened in anticipation, and she caught her bottom lip in her teeth.

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But his hand stopped there, his thumb passing back and forth against the same swath of skin. "Please," she murmured, lifting a hand to brush her fingers in turn over the furrow between his brows. "Don't think, just feel. Let's just be us and see where it goes. You're here, I'm here. I want you and," she lifted her hips, bumping up against the obvious ridge of his erection, "you want me too. Please, Marcus. No turning back. It'll be so good." He laughed. "That's what I'm afraid of." Sela let her fingers drift to his mouth and traced the curve of his smile. "Don't be afraid." Her hands slid to the buttons of his shirt, and she twisted them open, gaze never leaving his. They could do this. She would, if he didn't stop her. Crisp white fabric pushed easily aside to reveal the undershirt he always wore, bright against the deep shadows of his skin. She let her fingers graze his shoulders as she pushed the shirt off. He moved, tugging his arms free of his dress shirt and peeled the next layer away. She flattened her hands against his chest and curled up to kiss the hollow of his throat. She lingered there, tongue tracing swirling patterns against his hammering pulse. She closed her mouth on muscle, suckling against his skin. He groaned in response, hips rocking down to meet hers. "Move." She murmured the word against his neck. She felt him tense. He lifted his head and frowned down at her. "What?" "Move," she repeated, grinning. "Nothing's going to happen with all these clothes in the way." "Oh, yeah. Right." He rolled to one side, reaching for his belt. His shoes hit the floor with quiet thuds. And Sela slid off the bed, confident that she commanded his attention. She'd wanted this, so much for so long, that she knew exactly what to do. She kept her back to him when

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she stood, swaying her hips a little as she unbuttoned her own shirt, shrugged it off and let it flutter to the floor. If she'd had time to plan, there would have been mood music and low lighting to accompany her deliberate strip tease. In their line of work, though, improvisation was required. She slid her fingers inside the waistband of her slacks, following the way they wrapped her body until she got them open and could shimmy them down. She bent over, taking her time, and grinned at the sound of another groan. "You're gonna kill me," Marcus mumbled. His hand stroked down the curve of her ass. "Heart attack," he threatened. "It'll be on you for teasing me." Sela kicked her pants into a pile and turned to face him. She didn't cover herself, didn't cower. She wanted him to look. She wanted to know he appreciated what he saw. "Who said I was teasing?" She hooked her fingers under a bra strap and pushed it down, letting it dangle while she did the same on the other side. Unfastening the clasp wasn't graceful, with her arms twisted that way, but when she dangled the fabric from a finger tip then let it slip free, she saw Marcuss eyes widen. Good enough for her. "C'mere," he said, holding out a hand. He curled his fingers over hers when she slid them against his palm. He tucked her against his chest, his lips warm on her throat as he laid her down. He skimmed his hand down her side, the rasp of the calluses on his fingers only adding to the heat that now pooled between her thighs. Marcus kissed a hot trail to her collarbone, then went further, sliding down her body until he reached her breasts. He murmured, "So damned beautiful," his breath fanning out warm and moist against her skin. He caught one nipple between his lips and sucked it deeper, rolling it against his tongue. Sela gasped and arched, offering him more as her fingers curled against his hair. He kept it short, close to the scalp, leaving nothing to grip. Most times, she approved. Now she wanted to hang on.

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He released the nipple and kissed his way to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as he worked his hand into her panties and slid a finger between her folds. He knew what he was doing and exactly what he wanted. He curled a finger, unerringly finding her clit. He circled once, dipped deeper to gather wetness, and came back to do it again. Sela spread her legs willingly. This wasn't the time for playing coy and being polite. "More," she demanded, fingers kneading his scalp. "More. Harder. God, Marcus, please." He moved again, this time without prompting, and curled his fingers in panty fabric on either side. Sela lifted her hips and he peeled it away, tossing the garment somewhere in the room. She watched with her bottom lip caught in her teeth, waiting for the moment when he'd push his pants down and come back to her. She needed to see him like she needed her next breath. That was the real point of no return. He put his knee on the bed again. He tugged his belt loose, unzipped his fly. Crisp linen whispered against his skin as his slacks slipped lower and stopped at his hips, held there by some invisible force that must have had a stake in driving Sela crazy. "Close your eyes," he murmured. She shook her head. "No way, I want to watch." He grinned slowly and sent another thrill fluttering through her. "Trust me, would you?" He bent over her to press a kiss against the inside of one thigh. He moved higher, brushing his cheek against her leg. The faint touch of stubble raised goose bumps on her skin. The warmth of breath washing over her as he hovered by her hip made her gasp. She closed her eyes despite herself. Marcus rumbled and lowered his mouth. The heat of his exhalation felt like a spring breeze compared to the blaze she felt when he stroked her with his tongue. She cried out at the first touch and lifted her hips toward him, a desperate demand for more. She reached for

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him, fingers curling low on her stomach, and he threaded his through them, giving her an anchor as he sent her reeling. He groaned again and the sound vibrated through her, into too sensitive flesh, echoed by the needful clench inside her. He parted her with his fingers and circled her clit with the tip of his tongue. He used his teeth against her, careful encouragement, and she arched again, tossing her head against the pillows. She spread her legs and he slipped a finger into her, dipped and curled and withdrew again to braid two together and push in again. He sucked in breaths that brought in cooler air and made her shiver then groan as he chased them again with warm, wet heat. She should have known a man who kissed like he did would be better between her thighs. She knew he noticed more than he let on, but she should have guessed that he would read her body as though he read her mind. That he'd know when to back off and when to press in deep, curling his fingers to find the sweet spot that threatened to leave her nothing more than a molten pool of pleasure. And that he wouldn't be satisfied with making her come once. She clenched around his fingers hard, shudders racing through her body, his name a breathless groan on her lips. Then he kissed her hungrily, tongue probing deep into her mouth, and she'd held onto his shoulders while he stayed above her. Not for long. He kissed a hot line down the center of her body, tongue dipping into her navel as he passed, then settled between her thighs again and drove her even higher. When she came this time, she screamed his name, then spiraled into sated darkness.

*****
Marcus woke up with a woman in his arms. Not just any woman. Sela. His partner, his friend, the woman who'd been under his skin and in his dreams for a long damned time. Now that he'd tasted her, he knew within seconds of waking that once would never be enough.

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And that could be a problem, even without old flames turning up. Sex and work didn't belong in the same thought, much less on the same assignment. Whatever the cover story, he and Sela were still on a job. They needed to be impartial and unbiased and willing to do whatever it took to get the information they'd need. They couldn't afford to distract one another with kisses and touches and the urge to get horizontal. Not that his body objected, as evidenced by the way his cock stiffened again. If he let his wants control him, they'd never get out of bed. He made himself roll over and stand up. He needed a shower, preferably cold, and then they needed to take a better look around. She had that part right, Marcus admitted as he stepped beneath the showerhead. Talking to the staff would get them information. Employees, owners, anyone who'd been here more than once or twice and could give them some insight on the Lone Tree's personalities. Sela handled the interpersonal stuff. She had a knack for getting people to open up before they realized it. She asked the right questions, flashed that megawatt smile, and had them eating out of her hand. Marcus did his best work when he stuck to the technical or when they needed a little muscle to back up an interrogation. Charming and chatty weren't his style. He favored direct and to the point and no-nonsense. Which didn't explain why he couldn't keep Sela out of his mind. She was up and dressed -- clothed, at least -- when he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. The way she smiled went straight to his groin. He ran through a mental inventory of the equipment they'd brought with them to keep his body in check. "You should have woken me up," she told him. "I could use a shower, too. Could've been fun." She said it sing-song, playfully. "Could've been distracting."

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Sela frowned and slipped off the bed. She padded barefoot toward him, and he realized that she was wearing his shirt. She slid her arms around his waist and kissed his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair and skin, and felt his hold on control slipping again. "We're not going to let this mess things up," she told him, her gaze gone serious. "Sex happens, the world doesn't end." Her smile crept back. "Might happen again, if we're lucky." Marcus took a breath. "I don't think --" "Good." She pressed her fingers against his mouth. "Don't." She replaced them with her lips and he kissed her back, following her suggestion. No thought, just action. Very dangerous. "My turn," she murmured and slipped away, headed for the bathroom. She dropped his shirt outside and left the door standing open. He could take it as invitation or he could get to work. Marcus went to his suitcase and got dressed. By the time Sela climbed out of the shower again, he had the laptop set up and humming. He sat at the desk scrolling through aerial photos of the resort property and taking notes. "So what's the plan, chief?" She braced a hip against the desk and folded her arms across her chest. "You think you're going to see something new in old pictures?" Marcus shook his head, but glanced up briefly. "I'm not looking for something new. I want to know where everything is." "Which is why I asked Tyler for the grand tour. You don't think if there's something funny going on they haven't figured out how to hide that from overhead? If you want the dirt, you have to get down on the ground." She grinned. "Don't worry. He probably doesn't bite."

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"I don't want to know." He didn't want to acknowledge the new wave of possessiveness sweeping through him, either. The first had caught him off guard in the parking lot. He could ignore a second. "Yes, you do." She caught his hand and tugged, pulling him to his feet. "Because if I don't tell you, you can't be all gruff and over-possessive and turn me on. And I really, really want to be turned on." She kissed him again, a lingering brush of lips against his. "Sela, we shouldn't --" "If you don't stop complaining, I'm going to think you have regrets." She let go of his hand and went to her bags. "I don't want to be a regret, Marcus. I won't be. So you're just going to have to accept what happened. And take me to dinner. But first." She crossed the room toward him. "Hold out your hand." Marcus did, a little warily. "What's this?" Sela laid a simple golden band against his palm. "Your wedding ring, sweetheart." She beamed and held up another, delicate and fancy, with a diamond solitaire. "And mine." He had to laugh and shook his head as he slipped the band on his finger. "Surprise, surprise, it's just the right fit. Do you think of everything?" "Almost. Lucky for you," she teased. She offered him the solitaire then held out her left hand. "Put it on?" Marcus froze with the surprisingly tiny ring caught between his fingers. Damn. "Sela, we can't --" "I've got it covered," she interrupted and waggled her outstretched hand a bit. "Please?" He could have argued. Probably should have to reestablish the line. There had to be a limit to how far they'd go. He shook his head instead and caught her hand, steadying it as he slipped the ring in place. "There."

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"Man and wife," she murmured. "Closest I'll ever get to a real wedding anyway." She flashed him a quick grin and headed for the door. She held it open and cocked her head. "Well? I'm starving." "And what the lady wants, she gets?" Sela laughed. "You're learning."

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Chapter Three

Tyler didn't have a crush on Sela anymore. He also didn't have a reason to eat in the main dining room. He tried and failed to convince himself of both facts again as he pushed a pile of corn toward his mashed potatoes, mixing them together for variety. Corn and potatoes. Not exactly an analogy for Sela and Marcus, he admitted to himself. Sela might make up the starchy, stick-to-the-ribs portion, as Tyler certainly hadn't been able to forget her, even after ten years apart, but Marcus would never pass for corn. He'd have to have a sense of humor to be corny and Tyler had a hard time imagining that the big man could smile. Tyler made more sense as the corn in that equation. He'd grown up closer to Kansas than Marcus had, he was willing to bet. Cities and dark alleys seemed more his style. Concrete basketball courts and chain link fences, not rolling plains and wide, blue skies. Sure, he'd been dressed nicely but clothes didn't make the man, to argue the old saying. Anyone could put on a suit and claim to be civilized. He wasn't the only one who'd watched them when they wandered in tonight. Marcus had his arm wrapped around Sela's shoulders and she walked close at his side, her arm

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around his waist. She looked happy and he looked content, at least. They just didn't fit together. He didn't fit. He was headed straight for Tyler's table, a dinner tray in his hands. He hesitated for a moment once he'd stopped moving. He glanced over his shoulder at where Sela stood, still choosing what she wanted to eat. He cleared his throat and asked, "Do you mind if we sit with you?" Tyler flinched but shook his head. "Nah. No. Of course not." He pulled his plate closer to his side of the table and watched Marcus unload his tray. The man could eat, which shouldn't have surprised him. Took a lot to keep a body like that going. Still, it'd been a while since Tyler had seen someone put down that many plates for just one meal. "Must have been one heck of a drive," he offered conversationally. "Can't think of a road in from anywhere that's got much on it other than scrub brush or cattle. Not exactly what you're used to, being from DC, I guess." Marcus smiled in return, just a hint of even, startlingly white teeth behind his lips. Perfect teeth, with not a hint of gold or stainless steel about them. "I grew up in Virginia. My parents own a farm. Different sort of landscape, but I know all about the middle of nowhere." Score one for Marcus. How did that saying about assumptions go again? "So leaving farm country must have been a shock." "Not really. I interned for a summer before I went to Georgetown. I knew what I was getting in to." "Georgetown," Tyler echoed. "International politics." Marcus offered another faint smile. "I had plans to become president." Tyler wrinkled his forehead. "On what platform?"

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Marcus took a breath to answer, stopped himself and smiled again. No, he grinned, wide and warm. He even chuckled and ducked his head, sawing pieces off the steak he'd chosen. "Neither politics nor religion belong at the dinner table. Nice try though." Score two. "You're right, I'm sorry. President's big. Not out of the running yet, I guess." Marcus shook his head. "My heart's not in it anymore. I'll save the campaigning for those who really want it." He paused with his fork held over his plate. Tyler looked away to let the other man eat in peace. Sela hadn't joined them yet and now he saw why. Aunt Viv stood framed in the kitchen doorway, hands propped on her ample hips, grinning broadly. No doubt Sela'd asked her to share some gossip about him in the years they'd been apart. Viv would gladly supply anything she wanted to know and apologize to Tyler later. Some things never changed. "She likes to talk," Marcus said, stealing Tyler's attention again. "Has as long as I've known her. Let her get a word in edgewise and it's all over." Tyler looked toward where she stood again, her tray forgotten now as she listened raptly to Viv's story. His aunt gestured grandly and Sela laughed, right on cue. "Yeah," he agreed. "She's always been that. She used to have full conversations with the guy sleeping on the street corner when we went for coffee. Sometimes I thought he knew more about her than I did." He didn't know anything about her now. He considered the big man across the table from him and took a long drink of water, clearing his throat as he put it down. "So how'd the two of you meet?" Marcus grinned fondly and jealousy kicked in Tyler's gut. "Basketball. We met at a basketball game." "You were playing?" One dark eyebrow twitched. "Watching," Marcus answered after another second's pause. "A homecoming game at Georgetown. I went back to visit friends a couple years

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behind me. She was there with a date she wanted to lose. Literally ran into me trying to get out the door. She apologized, we started talking." His shoulders rose and fell. "History." "Huh. She wasn't much on sports in college." "She still isn't." Sela dropped a hand on one of Marcuss shoulders, startling both of them. She grinned broadly. "I should have known better than to leave the two of you together. Men and their sweaty games." She put down her tray and settled in the chair beside Marcus. Tyler dragged his thoughts back from places they had no business going. Those weren't the sort of games she meant. He remembered how she'd liked to play them, though. He'd make plans to take her out of town for the weekend and she'd undo every last one, distracting him in bed. And in the bathroom. And in the stacks of the library ... "I didn't mean to kill the conversation," she said, nearly laughing as she glanced between them both. Understanding sparkled in her eyes a moment later. "I see. You were talking about me." She gave in and laughed at them when they tried to deny it. "Don't let me stop you. What about that Sela Reeves?" Tyler couldn't help but grin. "I just asked Marcus how the two of you met." "Basketball," she answered without missing a beat. "I was on a date with the world's most boring guy and --" A cell phone went off, chirping cheerfully. Marcus put his fork down and plucked it off his belt. He peered at the faceplate and glanced up at Sela with a thin smile. "Uncle Jerry." "I'll take it." She held out her hand and Marcus passed her the phone. "I haven't talked to him in so long." She stood and gestured at them, then her plate. "You guys keep talking. Take notes for me. And don't eat my food." Marcus held up both hands when she leveled a finger at him. She winked and grinned, then the phone chirped again. She lifted the cover and pressed it to her ear, then wandered off, saying, "You have the worst timing, Uncle Jerry."

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Tyler's gaze met Marcuss as they both looked back from watching her saunter out the door. Tyler cleared his throat. "She's something else. Congratulations." "Never really get over her, do you?" The question surprised him but Marcus didn't look angry. He held Tyler's gaze another second then went back to his meal, scooping potatoes and corn alike onto the edge of his fork. Tyler watched his hands. He felt safer that way. He couldn't give away old regrets if Marcus couldn't see his eyes. "No, you never do."

*****
"Uncle Jerry?" Sela closed the door to the cabin and toed out of her shoes. "It's better than being my obnoxious little brother Jer, isn't it, sir?" She knew Jerome Marano, the chief agent on the phone, could hear the laughter in her voice. It was disrespectful and far too casual. She barely managed to keep from laughing aloud. "By a very thin margin," he allowed. His voice sounded tight, but the suspiciouslytimed cough made Sela grin. "You know we like it up here on the knife's edge, sir." "Oh, I know. My ulcers and I don't appreciate it, but I know you like to test me." His sigh echoed through the phone. "I assume, judging by the fact that you're all but laughing at me, that you made it to the resort safely." "Safe and sound and all in one piece." Sela sat on the edge of the bed, then stretched out on her back and pushed herself up the mattress so her legs wouldn't hang. "It's a nice place. Much better than the place in San Diego." "You're never going to let me live that down." Sela's grin widened, unseen. "No sir. At least not for another couple of months. It's too much fun to complain."

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"The day you get it out of your system, I'll throw a party. We saw Hughes's equipment come online. I'm assuming everything's in working order." She rolled to her side to consider the cameras and computers taking up a good portion of the bedroom. The machines were Marcuss area of expertise, but she knew enough to get by and to answer questions. "He's run a full diagnostic and checked the signal strength on everything. We'll do a tap run on the buildings tonight after the resort staff's all gone to bed." "Good. We're going to need eyes and ears. The schedule's moved up by two days." As much as Sela liked to give the chief a hard time, she also knew when to take her job seriously. She sat up and frowned through the bedroom doorway. Now would be a good time for Marcus to decide to check up on his lovely wife. "Moved up? What's happening?" Jerome heaved another sigh and she heard his chair creak as he sat. The sound echoed, proof that he had her on the speaker phone. She only had a moment to wonder who else might be listening before the senior agent spoke again. "Our contact got a little twitchy last time he went in. One thing led to another, he started spouting paranoid what-if theories about being watched and tracked and such. His higher ups dismissed it at the time, but we've got a shipment rolling from Mexico City tonight and the buzz down the line is it hits Texas in seventy-two hours." Sela flinched. "Seventy-two. Chief ..." "Nothing I can do to slow it down." She pictured him in her mind's eye, hands held out to the sides helplessly. "We jump in now, we risk blowing the whole operation. Lucky for us, I've got my two best agents on the job." "Flattery's nice, sir, but it doesn't make us superheroes. It's still just Hughes and me." "Flores, Jacobi and Hawthorne will be there with backup to rendezvous with you when the shipment comes in."

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It didn't change the numbers in the meantime. Sela had no way of knowing just how big an operation might be working on resort property. With the sort of firepower the chief had mentioned, she had a feeling she and Marcus were in deep. "Nothing like a little challenge to keep us on our toes," she said, forcing cheerfulness while she tried to lay the groundwork for a faster mission in her head. Making friends with Tyler again had just become her priority. She needed to pick his brain, meet everyone of import at the Lone Tree, and do it while keeping him ignorant. No problem. No sweat. "I'll talk to Hughes. We'll call you in twenty-four, sir." "That's what I like to hear. We're counting on you, Sela." She hung up and crashed back on the bed again. "Yes, sir. I know."

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Chapter Four

"Wish I could have stayed at dinner." Sela's voice cut through the sound of horses moving. It rose above the rasp and rustle of mucking out stalls. His traitorous heart leapt into a gallop. Seven words from her and he was hooked. No, he'd fallen under her spell again the minute he saw her. He'd forgotten to check the schedule to see how long they were staying. He needed to know how long his torture would last. Marcus turned out to be an all right kind of guy. They'd talked a while after Sela left for the phone call. There was no denying that the big guy loved her. Every word, every little smile as they talked about the past made that clear. If he'd been an asshole or needlessly smug, it would have made things easier. Tyler could justify the pulse of hope that shot through him at the sound of her voice. Maybe he'd get a second chance. Maybe last night's dreams would become reality. Old memories tumbled through his mind like home movies of the most explicit kind. He thought he'd forgotten the sound of her sighs and the high-pitched, breathy noises she made when he dove into her body, driving her toward a climax. Last night, he got Technicolor proof that he'd thought wrong.

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"I usually eat alone." Sela laughed. "That's new. You used to cook for me, remember? Feed me until I thought I'd explode." She moved, her voice drifting closer. "Friday night dates of dinner and a movie. I'd sit in your lap and you'd feed me popcorn and say it was good for me." Tyler smiled at the reminder. "Better than those jujubes or whatever they hell they were that you ate." "There's nothing wrong with jujubes." She leaned against the open stall door now, arms folded on the wood. "They were better than eating chocolate." "Now I know you're a grown up for sure. Claiming something's better than chocolate? Is the world coming to an end?" "Hush, you." She lapsed into silence. He imagined that she watched him while he worked, her gaze making a warm spot between his shoulder blades. "What are the odds, Tyler? Have you stopped to think?" "I haven't stopped thinking since I saw you yesterday." He cringed inwardly. Too much confession. It made him sound desperate and, no matter the truth, the needy man never got the girl. Never mind that she'd married someone else. She could always make him speak without thinking. She told him once that she liked the fact that he spoke his mind. He'd never worked up the courage to confess he didn't do it on purpose. He cleared his throat and scattered another layer of fresh straw over the floor of the stall. "So what brought up the food thing, anyway?" "It's one of my favorite memories. One of the best things I remember about you. About us." She moved again, straw crunching under her shoes as she stepped into the stall behind him. His next breath swelled with the scent of her, the same almost-sweet shampoo she'd used years ago over the warmer musk of her skin.

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The sort of scent that went straight to his groin. His cock swelled against the fly of his jeans. He gripped the handle of the pitchfork tighter. He still had work to do. "What are you doing out here, Sela?" Her arm brushed his as she stopped beside him. He must have imagined the way she leaned against him, subtle shift of weight that could be accidental. Had to be. He wanted more. "I came looking for you, of course. To talk about that tour. We really do want to see everything." "Does he know you're out here?" Tyler felt the change in her before he saw it. She stiffened, straightening so she didn't rest against him. She took advantage of the pause in conversation to move toward one side of the stall and leaned. The smile she wore didn't quite make it to genuine. "I don't have to check in with him every time I leave a room. It's not that kind of marriage." "Does he know you're out here with me?" She laughed and shook her head. She tucked her hands beneath her butt, trapping them behind her. Her gaze flickered to his mouth and rose so quickly that he probably shouldn't have noticed. He couldn't have missed it if he tried. "He's not worried about you." "Then he's an idiot." Her smile faltered, but he didn't apologize. He closed the distance between them, stepping forward until they nearly touched. She glanced at his mouth again and his cock twitched in response. Wrong. Stop. The words rolled through his mind and he brushed them aside. He leaned the pitchfork against the wall beside her, then braced his hand above her shoulder and moved farther into the dwindling separation between their bodies. "If I was him, I wouldn't leave you alone with me." He didn't plant a hand on her other side, though temptation made his fingers itch. She'd come here of her own free will. She could stay where she was or make a break for it. If she moved, he'd let her go. If she didn't ...

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Sela wet her lips. "He doesn't have anything to worry about. He trusts me. This is past tense." "No, it's not." Tyler pressed his hips forward against hers slowly. They stood close enough that she couldn't help but feel his erection. He kept the pressure light enough that she could still push him away. She made a sound she might have meant as a word. She didn't clarify. There wasn't time. Between one breath and the next, she kissed him, fingers threading into his hair. Her hips curled forward to meet his, an invitation. Tyler groaned in answer. She tasted as sweet as he remembered. His tongue brushed past her lips and teeth when she gasped for air. She curled her tongue around it, sucking hungrily. One hand knotted at the small of his back. She pulled him forward into her and spread her legs, making room. He didn't need to be asked again, words or no. He jerked her blouse free of her jeans and shoved it up, hand questing beneath fabric for her breast. He hooked his finger over the lace edge of her bra and tugged the cup down. Warm flesh filled his hand. He groaned again and found her nipple, plucking at it until it tightened and she arched her back. He fumbled buttons open, peeling her blouse away so he could fasten his mouth around the nub and tease it with his teeth. Both of her hands were in his hair, tugging in pulses that matched the motion of her hips as she rocked them forward against his erection. Faint sounds of encouragement surged out of her with every breath. Tyler skimmed his hand down the soft plain of her stomach, popped the button on her jeans and slid his hand inside. She jerked the first time he touched her clit. Her head thumped softly against the wall but she didn't make him stop. She stared at him, eyes gone nearly midnight, but she didn't push him away. He circled once, a testing touch, then did it again harder. She closed her

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eyes. He moved his fingers faster and her hips rolled again. She bit her bottom lip bloodless and swallowed hard. God, he loved her. Still loved her. Nothing in the world felt as good as watching her pulse throb beneath pale, silken skin. Nothing tasted as good as the hollow that he traced with his tongue. No one sounded as sweet trying to bite back whimpers for more. He slicked his fingers with her wetness and pushed deeper, following the curve of her body to her entrance. He lingered there, hesitated before pushing two braided fingers in. His reward was a soft cry and another desperate tug. She wanted him. She clenched around his fingers in need. Heaven! "What the hell's going on, Sela?" Tyler hadn't heard him. He hadn't heard anything but the pounding of his heart and the sounds Sela made. He didn't think Marcus lumbered like an elephant, shaking the ground when he walked, but a man that size should have made some sort of warning noise. They jerked apart. Sudden distance stretched between them as Tyler tried to rein himself in and Sela clutched at the edges of her blouse, pulling them together as she hugged herself. Her jeans gapped open, damning proof of what exactly had happened. Marcus missed none of it. His dark gaze bounced between them and his jaw set like granite. His hands balled into fists, opened and closed again. Every line of his body screamed restraint and Tyler sent up a whisper of brief thanks. "I can explain," Tyler said when he found his voice. Marcus stabbed a finger toward him. "Not you." His gaze swung back to Sela and his hand fell. "Let her tell me." Sela's cheeks blazed, but she didn't look away, save a brief glance down to start fitting buttons back into place. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't know it would. I came to talk to him and ... things got out of control."

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"Out of control." Marcus shook his head. "Talk to him? That's what you call talking? Dammit, Reeves, you know better. We don't do the job this way." Something unspoken passed between them, a look that said things had gone too far. Sela paled instead of blushing. Marcus cursed under his breath and whirled to throw a vicious punch at a two-by-four. The horse two stalls down whinnied in alarm. And Tyler stood between them, trying to catch up, his heart pounding so hard and fast that his fingers throbbed. At least Marcuss arrival had taken care of his erection. He wasn't sure he'd ever get it up again. "I'm missing something," he dared. When neither of them answered or silenced him, he pressed on. "What job? Why did he call you Reeves? What's going on, Sela? Marcus? Someone say something." Marcus kept his back turned. Sela sighed and rubbed her face. "I need your word," she said quietly when she lowered her hands. "I need you to be honest with me. And I need you to understand that if you're not, what we had won't matter. I will put you away and I will toss the key if you're involved at all." Tyler frowned, looking between the two of them again. "English, maybe?" His gaze settled on Marcus when he turned around. "You're not mad?" "Oh yeah, I'm pissed," the big man promised, but his attention rested mostly on Sela. Who cocked an eyebrow and stole Tyler's attention back. "Tyler. Do we have a deal?" "Yeah, sure." He pushed a hand through his hair. "If I'm involved in whatever it is, lock me up." "Don't do this, Reeves." Marcus all but growled. "I told you I wanted someone local," Sela answered and gestured toward Tyler. "Now we have him, for better or worse." "Untested, untrained. You don't even know if you can trust him." She laughed. "I think I can tell who's worth trusting." "Trusting or fucking?"

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"Hey!" Tyler understood the urge to make fists now. He stepped forward, putting himself between them, though none of them were close enough to touch. "How about we stop talking about Tyler like he's not here and tell him what the hell's going on?"

It went against everything Sela'd been taught to bring a civilian in like this. Not now, not before they knew for certain what they were dealing with. She took another breath, stole a glance at Marcuss shoulders, and swallowed guilt. "We're not married." Tyler smirked. "That'd explain why I still have a face." "Not really," Marcus threatened. "You still have a face because I'm waiting for an explanation, too." She'd made a true mess of things this time. She had the man she wanted or so she thought. She'd lured Marcus into bed for the first time in years, then turned around and ruined it by letting old feelings override common sense. They should have been dead and gone, buried and forgotten in the past. She'd come looking for Tyler legitimately, to ask questions and find out what he knew about the case. She wasn't looking for a second chance with an old flame, but when she kissed him, when he touched her, memories took over and she realized that she'd missed him even more than she knew. And now she had to deal with the fallout. "Look. What happened isn't the issue right now. We'll deal with it, I promise, but that's not why I came out." She stared hard at Marcus, willing his shoulders out of their high, defensive set. When he took a breath and his fists relaxed, Sela felt as though she'd been given permission to breathe too. Which meant she could concentrate on Tyler. "We're not married," she told him again. "That's just a cover story to keep people in the dark about why we're really here." She

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reached for the badge holder in her pocket and flashed it open. His eyes widened and she tucked it away. "We work for the Agency. We're partners, Tyler. We're here on a case." "What case?" His gaze bounced between them again. "There's nothing going on out here." "Nothing you know about, anyway." Marcus turned to put his shoulder against the open stall doorway. "Or nothing you want to confess." Tyler's expression darkened and his jaw set. "I'm not doing anything illegal. You might not believe me, but that's the truth." "Right, of course. I'm such a fool," Marcus mocked. "People committing crime never say things like that." "You think you two could put your dicks away?" Sela scowled at them both. "I'm not impressed and it's not getting us closer to answers. Guns," she went on, giving neither man time to speak. "We have information that someone here is accepting shipments from Mexico, warehousing them, and arranging deliveries to other locations. There are no records of the weapons in an American database. Essentially we've got well-armed people with no way to track them down and no accountability." Tyler stared a while, then laughed. "Gunrunning. Through the Lone Tree? This is a family resort, people bring their kids through here. There're no guns." "Pretty good cover for a shady operation," Marcus offered. "Exactly the last place anyone would think to look." "Which is why it's high priority on our list. I know, it seems like a reach," Sela said when Tyler shook his head, "but we need you to think. Go through a mental check of everyone you know around here and tell us if you remember anything weird, anyone acting sketchy. Some behavior that's changed." He backed up. "You want me to turn someone on the staff in?"

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"Or," Marcus said, eyebrows climbing casually, "we can charge you with conspiracy and take you instead." "Marcus." Sela silenced him with an eyebrow quirk of her own. He smirked in answer, but didn't apologize. Tyler paced a tight circle, rubbed the back of his neck and heaved a sigh. "I'm gonna have to think about it. Off the top of my head, I've got nothing." Sela nodded, watching him closely. "We're not expecting answers right away. But soon," she prompted. "We've only three days." Tyler flinched. "Are you kidding me?" She shook her head. "I wish. We booked the cabin for a week, but the timeline's changed and we need answers now." It was for the best anyway. Staying here longer would test the limits of Sela's resolve. She didn't want to be stuck between two men she'd had a taste of when she wanted more from both of them. They were now off-limits as far as she was concerned. The hard part would be following her own rules. No touching, no kissing, definitely no sex. Marcus had it right. They had to job to do. Everything else counted as the sort of distraction she couldn't afford. "So." Tyler squared his shoulders. "If I think of something, I know where you'll be." He looked at them both, hesitated, then added, "I've got to get back to work." Sela straightened. "Right. We'll let you get to it." She didn't have to look at Marcus to get him moving. The big man simply turned and left the stall as silently as he'd come in. She made it to the door herself before Tyler stopped her. "You're really not married?" She summoned up as much of a smile as she could manage. A faint shake of her head and she repeated, "We're really not married, but I do care about him." She paused, then shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior until we're gone." No matter how much

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she wanted to misbehave. "I'll see you around, Tyler." And with nothing more to say, she walked out.

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Chapter Five

Twenty-four hours passed in a tight-jawed, red tinged haze. Marcus lost himself in his work as much as he could. He did his performing duty, eating meals with Sela and being seen out and about, but it ended there. The minute they were in private, he put space between them. Not because he wanted to be rid of her. Not because he'd resolved to ask for a change of partner the moment he got back. That would have made the rest of the assignment easy. If he'd been angry enough to write her off, he could have put her out of his mind. She lingered, though. Haunted him. Even when she murmured something and excused herself for a walk, her scent stayed in the room. Her travel case sat on the bathroom counter, reminding him that she'd be back. He wanted her in his arms. Maybe he was the fool he'd been played. She'd proven that she wouldn't be faithful, but did he want that? They'd avoided getting serious. Just sex, she'd said. It happened and life moved on. Did he really want to claim her? His body answered with an undeniable yes, fists clenched and heartbeat thundering in his chest. He'd been happy, feeling her shift and writhe at his touch. She slept in his arms and he felt at peace. He wanted her. He needed her.

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He hated himself for that. A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. He stared at it, debating whether to answer or not. A second, more insistent pounding got him on his feet. Squinting through the peep hole nearly sent him back to his chair. He opened the door and glared down at Tyler instead. "Something wrong?" Tyler looked as surprised to see Marcus as he was to be seen. His brow furrowed. "I'm looking for Sela." Marcus folded his arms. "She's not here. Just me." He smirked. "You want me to give her a message?" Tyler scratched his forehead. "Does she need to be here for me to talk to you? About your ... business," he clarified. "The conversation in the barn. I might have something." No matter what he thought about the man, Marcus had come here with a job to do and a case to solve. That had to come before personal grudges or arguments, so he pulled the door wider and backed out of the way. "Come in." Tyler took a breath and held it, then summoned up a wry smile. "I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you. No offense," he added quickly. "Just. In there belongs to you. I'm not interested in arguing territory." "We can't talk out here." "So we won't talk." Tyler shrugged easily and backed up a step. "I'll show you what I've got. You can decide what to do from there." Hardly an ideal, controlled situation, but the man had a point. Marcus didn't particularly want his rival -- his competition -- taking up space in their room. The Lone Tree stood in the middle of open land. It wasn't like a city where there were prying ears and eyes on every corner. He could afford to let the usual precautions slide a little in a place like this. So he said, "Give me a second," and ducked back inside. He slid his pistol into his pants at the small of his back and grabbed a jacket light enough not to look out of place. He'd take

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a stroll with the resort's handy man. If they happened across something interesting, he'd be prepared. Tyler looked ready to run a marathon by the time Marcus stepped out to join him. His weight rested on the balls of his feet and his eyes were too bright. Marcus gripped his shoulder and used the advantage of height to press him down, out of flight posture. He knew in less than a second that he'd underestimated the shorter man's build. His lack of bulk didn't mean a lack of strength, as evidenced by the shift of muscle beneath his palm. Tyler was compact, efficient, and just now, a coiled spring. "Easy, killer. We're just out for a walk. You're showing me the sights. Try taking some deep breaths." Marcus expected him to protest and fight the suggestion. Instead, Tyler's chest heaved once and tension bled out of his body. "Yeah," he murmured. "Just a friendly tour." He shifted out from beneath Marcuss hand, not roughly. "C'mon, it's in the shed." They crossed the courtyard between rented cottages in step. Tyler tucked his hands into his pockets. Marcus let his arms swing with his stride. Deliberately casual, completely controlled. "So what are we going to look at?" "A box. A crate," Tyler amended. "Came in last night with our usual deliveries. Grocery stuff for the week, you know? Every Wednesday, like clockwork. Bunch of us sit up waiting for the truck to show. We play some poker, shoot the shit, knock back a few beers." "But something different went down last night." Tyler nodded. "Alex. Guy's been here since before I came back. He's older than me. Us. Acts like everybody's dad. He's usually the first one to spot the truck. Never thought about it before, but after you guys showed up." He shook his head. "Everything looks funny. He got up to hit the john, like usual. He'll be gone half an hour, like always. So I stand up ten minutes later, say I have to take a leak, and I step outside." Tyler led them toward a metal shed tucked behind the last cottage. When they got within a few paces, he slowed then stopped, the back of one hand against Marcuss chest. "I

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followed him out here." He paused a second as if the words should mean something. When Marcus shook his head, he explained, "We don't keep bathrooms in this shed. We don't keep kitchen supplies out here, either. He shouldn't have been here that late at night." Tyler opened the door. The shed was stacked with boxes. Surplus, Tyler said. Extra napkins, toilet paper, packaged sheets to be worked into the laundry rotation when the old ones wore thin. "So I'm asking myself," Tyler went on, his voice pitched low as though someone might overhear, "what does a guy who doesn't clean need in a housekeeping shed?" He didn't linger by the overburdened shelves at the door, arrowing for the back instead. Marcus followed until he dropped to his knees and crawled beneath a hanging cloth that draped from another rack. "I spent the whole morning in here," Tyler reported, voice muffled. "Looking for something out of place. I found this." The sound of a boot impacting wood jerked Marcuss attention toward the ground. A wooden crate skidded out from under the drape. It stopped when it met Marcuss shoes. Whatever lay inside rattled to a halt. Tyler reappeared a second later. He didn't speak. He glanced up briefly, expression grim, then pried the top of the crate up and let it swivel open on a well-greased hinge. Four semi-automatic weapons, the gun-metal gleaming dully in the shed's half light. Tyler reached for one of them and Marcus dropped into an abrupt crouch, catching his wrist before he could touch anything. "Don't," he warned. "This is evidence now. It'll all go to court." He felt himself start to smile and gave in, sharing it with Tyler. "You did good. You did better than I expected." Tyler's grin looked faintly wry. "All in a day's work for the Agency, right?"

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Marcus had been wrestling with himself over the mess this assignment had become. He told himself he should have known better than to let his guard down. Old relationships didn't belong anywhere near a working case. He liked Tyler, though. He had after their talk. He could see why Sela had fallen for him in college. He understood, though he didn't like it, why Tyler still appealed to her. Under other circumstances, they might have been friends. They were partners now. Temporary, short-term, the words didn't matter as much as getting the job done. "All in a day's work," he agreed. Neither man heard the new set of footfalls until the door on the shed swung open and another man stepped inside. Marcus moved without thinking. "Down," he insisted, grabbing a fistful of Tyler's shirt. "Stay down." He mouthed the words. The longer they went unnoticed, the better for everyone. Tyler glanced down at Marcuss fist, then up again and arched an eyebrow. Marcus shook his head. The newcomer whistled between his teeth. The notes wandered, not resolving into a recognizable tune, but it made enough noise to cover the sound of Marcus rocking forward to one knee so he could peer around the boxes that hid them and get a glimpse of the man. Tyler's description fit him well at first glance. With hair more salt than pepper and his somewhat conservative dress, he might well pass for someone's father. Without close scrutiny, it was easy to see why they'd consider him the accommodating, easy-to-talk-to family sort. They wouldn't be looking for the things Marcus had been trained to observe right away. He held himself too casually, taking slow, steady breaths that most people didn't, even at rest. He held his right arm a little away from his body and Marcus would bet there was a pistol beneath his jacket, just in case.

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"One of us is gonna have to say something," Tyler whispered against his ear, mouth close enough that his lips grazed skin. The urge to shiver caught Marcus off guard. He turned his head and found Tyler so close they might have kissed. "He'll find us any second." He leaned back, giving them both as much space as he could manage without making noise. No time to puzzle out where the thought had come from. He held up a hand, a gesture he hoped Tyler understood as a demand for silence. Alex, if the stranger used his own name, took his sweet time drifting toward the back of the shed. "Marcus." "I see him." "What're we gonna do?" "Sit tight," Marcus answered. "Maybe he's looking for something else. We wait him out --" Tyler bolted to his feet before Marcus could stop him. Flushed and out of breath, he hardly looked the picture of calm. Marcus could see his hands shaking, an effect of the adrenaline no doubt streaking through his body. For his part, Marcus put his back against a crate and closed his eyes. He heard Alex make a startled sound, then laugh uncomfortably. "Didn't know anyone was in here." Marcus slipped a hand to the small of his back and eased his pistol out of hiding. Just in case.

Tyler's heart beat a hundred miles an hour. He stayed cool as a cucumber on the outside. A cucumber with sweating palms and a very dry throat, but he had things under control. He wouldn't fall apart. "Yeah. Just checking the inventory. Making sure we weren't running low on anything. Had my head in a box and didn't hear you, sorry." He set his hands at his waist for want of something else to do. "You looking for something important?"

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"Your head in a box? Literally?" Alex's smile only touched one side of his mouth and always had. Before Sela and Marcus told him about the case, Tyler considered it a character quirk. Now it looked suspicious, like everything else. Common sense. Use common sense.

Sometimes things really are what they seem. "I promised Miranda I'd look for some laundry
bleach," Alex said. "She's got her sleeves rolled up to the elbow and didn't want to leave the wash." He started forward. Tyler's heart thudded harder. Marcus hadn't moved. As a matter of fact, the big man had his eyes closed. The crate of guns they'd found lay open by his knee.

What was he waiting for? Tyler wiped his hands on his jeans.
"Laundry bleach? You're going the wrong way." He summoned a smile in turn and pointed back toward the doors. "We don't keep it back here. Try the cabinet up on the other side of the door. Pretty sure Miranda stores it in there." "Sure," Alex said, though he hesitated. His brow furrowed and he asked, "You okay? You look a little out of breath." Tyler forced his smile wider and his eyebrows to lift. "Me? I'm good. You just surprised me. You know how it goes. Your blood starts pumping. I'll be okay once I settle down." Alex chuckled. "Cut back on the caffeine." Shaking his head, he turned his back and went for the cabinet. Maybe he had just come out running errands for the housekeeping staff. Maybe Tyler had been wrong about what he thought he saw. "Do something," he hissed at Marcus. The big man whispered back, "You're sure this is the guy?" "Yeah. No. Maybe not. Fuck." "You okay back there?" Alex's voice drifted from the front. "You got a radio or something?"

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"Nah," Tyler called back as he tried to convey a message to Marcus with his eyes. "Just talking to myself. So how about that game last night?" Marcus shook his head but moved, rolling to his knees. He peered around the far side of the loaded rack of shelves that hid them from Alex's sight. Pistol in hand, he pushed to his feet slowly. Tyler stooped to close the gun crate as quietly as he could. "I'm gonna have to stop playing," Alex answered, chuckling again. "You boys are gonna rob me blind. You know I had two pair before Daniel came up with that flush? Damned near jumped the table to make sure the cards weren't marked." His laughter sounded strained to his own ears, but Tyler made the effort anyway. With the crate closed, he just had to wedge it beneath the shelf again. Hide it where he'd found it until Alex left. "Yeah, well, Daniel cheats." Something thumped him in the calf. Marcus jerked his head toward the front of the shed when Tyler looked up. Just in time to hear Alex's voice, closer now. "Don't I know it? Like I said, I'm gonna have to get a different group."

Shit! There was no time to put the crate away. Tyler straightened abruptly and coughed
at the same time he kicked it toward Marcuss hiding place. At least he could try to keep it out of sight. Alex arched an eyebrow and stopped again, no more than two steps away. "You sure you're all right? That's a nasty sounding cough for this time of year." Tyler willed the heat out of his cheeks and waved a hand. "Just inhaled some dust, I think." He thumped his chest with a fist, coughed again for good measure, and summoned up another smile. "Find what you need?" Alex nodded a little slowly. He studied Tyler's expression, then glanced past him. "Hand soap. I know the bottles're back here. I'll just grab one." He stepped forward. Tyler blocked his path. "I can get it for you. No problem."

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Alex frowned in earnest. "What's going on? You're all kinds of worked up, Tyler. Something happen that I should know about?" His mind went blank. What story could he come up with now that would explain his agitation? Why couldn't he think? "Nothing to worry about," came a deep voice. Marcus stepped out of hiding. "He's just embarrassed." The bigger man fit himself against Tyler's side and slid his arm around Tyler's shoulders. "You walked in on a little reunion. I told him this wasn't a good place." The pistol had disappeared. Marcus swatted his chest none-too-gently. "Silly." Alex kept frowning, narrow gaze shifting between the other two men. "You and him," he asked Tyler. "You're gay? I thought you were married to that pretty little girl. Don't tell me she crossed the line just for this." The arm around Tyler's shoulders tensed. "Crossed the line?" Alex smiled thinly. "You know what I mean. Young, attractive white women don't turn up with a big son-of-a-buck like you unless there's something special going on. She just covering for you?" The question was an uncomfortable echo of some of the thoughts that had crossed Tyler's mind. Hearing someone else speak them, though, pushed his temper toward boiling too. He laid a hand against Marcuss chest, less an act and more a legitimate stay than he liked. He peered at Alex. "You're such a saint that you've got the right to say shit like that?" Alex's smile faded somewhat. "Nobody's a saint, son. I'm just calling it like it is." Tyler wanted to hit him. Marcus spoke instead. "I am married to that pretty little girl. And no, she's not a cover." The smile he put on looked false to Tyler's eyes. "We just likes it all." But Alex bought it, or seemed to anyway. He took a step back, hands held up before him. "Easy there. I don't need details."

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"Just the hand soap?" Marcus offered, voice dripping with false cheer. He plucked a bottle off the shelf, said, Catch," and lobbed it toward Alex without taking his other arm from Tyler's shoulders. Alex caught the bottle, glanced between the other two again, and shook his head. "Don't know whether it's congratulations or condolences, Tyler. Either way, long as youre happy, I guess." His gaze shifted to Marcus and he looked him up and down. "Nice to meet you, so to speak." That said, he turned on his heel and headed for the doors. He glanced over his shoulder briefly before he let himself out. Tyler stepped away from Marcus side the minute the door closed. "Look, I'm sorry about that." Marcus shook his head. "Not your fault. Gets to be common after a while. Thanks for the interference." Tyler nodded. What could he say after that sort of awkwardness? Nothing came to mind for a moment, then he chuckled and shook his head. "A reunion? That's all you could think of? He's going to go tell everyone." One dark eyebrow rose. "I didn't hear you reaching for anything better. Just more stumbling over your tongue. It doesn't matter," he went on before Tyler could say anything. "We know the guns are here. All we have to do is find a way to pin it on this Alex guy. That's going to take watching. That's where you come in." "Me?" Tyler shook his head. "I gave you the tip. You're the agent. You do the footwork, right?" "Right. But you're his friend. You can keep a closer eye on him than we can. Something tells me he's not going to cozy up to me. He reached over and gripped Tyler's shoulder again. "Welcome to the team."

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Chapter Six

"So am I under house arrest? Do I need a lawyer?" Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose and crushed his eyes shut. It wasn't the fact that they'd kept Tyler over night. The other man slept on the couch in the living room. There'd been peace while he made his daily appearance for work, but now that chores were over, he'd come back with questions. Sela'd come in half an hour ago and murmured something about wanting a bath. She'd locked herself in with the radio on. Jazz drifted through the door, low, sweet, and filling Marcuss mind with images that made concentrating on his own work hard. He'd been staring at the computer screen too long. He pushed his chair back and swiveled to face Tyler. "You're not under arrest," he explained for what seemed like the fifth time. "Just makes sense to me that, if we're working together in a situation where we don't know all the players, we're better off sticking together. Besides, you get Sela's company." "And yours." Tyler hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "If I keep spending the night, people are going to think that rumor's true." "Which rumor, exactly?"

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Tyler arched an eyebrow. "Me and you?" He tugged a hand free and gestured between them as if that would jog Marcuss memory. "Being gay? Liking everything?" "Ah, that." His spur of the moment excuse for hiding at the back of the shed. At the time, it made a kind of sense. He couldn't remember why. Wait. Yes, he could. A long note from the sax in the bathroom shivered into the air and raised the hairs at the back of his neck. Not the sax. Memory. Tyler's lips against his ear. That had prompted the convenient lie. They both knew it wasn't true. The fact that another man's breath against his skin felt good didn't prove either one of them was gay. It was sensation, nothing more. If Sela'd done the same thing, he'd have liked that too. They'd been wound tight, adrenaline high. That was then. Marcus had no good reason explaining why thinking about it now had him hard where he sat. "Look, I'll apologize for you when this is all over, if you want. It got us out of trouble. That's all I wanted." It had been the truth then. Now? "Yeah, it worked." Tyler scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stand up at odd angles. He heaved a sigh and sprawled on the couch. "I'm not mad. Not exactly. Just... Wasn't expecting it." "No," Marcus agreed, telling himself not to notice the way Tyler's shirt rode up above his jeans. The music and whatever Sela used to scent the bathroom had his pulse thudding dully between his thighs. It didn't mean anything. Nothing had to happen. "I've been thinking about it too." "What?" Marcus jerked. Tyler met his gaze and his mouth quirked up faintly. "I've been thinking about it," he repeated and cleared his throat. "What you said. Wondering why you said it. You think I'm in to you?"

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Marcus laughed, a knee-jerk reaction to cover the sudden flush of heat that filled him. "Why would I think that? You're in to Sela. I only said it to buy us time." "I don't think so," Tyler countered, sitting up again. He leaned against the near arm of the couch, studying Marcus as though something might be revealed if he stared long enough. "I'm still not getting why you weren't more pissed when you caught us in the stable." "You wanted me to hit you?" "No. Jesus." Tyler laughed now. "I don't have a death wish. But you don't exactly strike me as the forgiving type. Not unless someone's on your side. Not unless you're getting something back." Marcus pursed his lips. "And you think, by keeping you around, I'm getting my rocks off or something?" "I dunno. You tell me. I'm just thinking out loud." Neither of them spoke for a long silence. Tyler didn't lie down again. Marcus didn't dare stand to pace, like he wanted. The jazz kept playing, underscoring the tension in the room. Then Tyler stood, abrupt upward motion, and headed toward him. Marcus pushed back in the chair until it thumped against the desk. Tyler stopped half a step away, close enough that Marcuss knees brushed his jeans. "Asking out loud, too. Are you in to me?" Marcus should have laughed. It should have been easy to brush off the question, turn around and go back to work. The difference in what he should do and what he wanted overwhelmed him. He clenched his fists. Tyler lifted his chin. "Do it." There was challenge in his eyes. "Come on, Marcus, do it. Get it out of your system."

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Marcus heard himself groan as he stood, unfolding from the chair too quickly. He got dizzy, light-headed. That had to explain the surge of want, the tilt toward Tyler, why his mouth suddenly met the other man's. And why Tyler kissed him back. Imagining things. He imagined Tyler's hands abruptly curled in his shirt and the touch of the other man's tongue against his lips. It had to be some sort of dream, a fantasy he'd never admitted to himself. Tyler opened his mouth, a rough sound escaping him, and Marcus licked in, fierce. He fisted his hands in Tyler's hair and tugged, pulling the other man's mouth away, forcing a bend into his neck and his pulse to kick visibly. He bit the muscle beside it and heard himself growl, tongue tapping back against the beat beneath Tyler's skin. He tasted good. "Jesus. Marcus!" "Don't," he rumbled beneath Tyler's chin. "Just don't say anything. I don't want to talk." Tyler held onto his shoulders as Marcus backed him toward the couch again. He planted a broad hand against Tyler's chest and pushed him back with the arm of the couch behind him. Tyler sat hard and glared up at him. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips swelling from their kiss. A slow grin curved his mouth as Marcus pushed the other man again. Tyler toppled back onto the couch and Marcus crawled after him. They didn't waste time with endearments neither of them meant. Before Marcus could pin him against the cushions, Tyler moved, shoving himself up the couch so he could stretch out, long lines of his body on display. Marcus reached for his belt, jerking it open before he went for the fly. The zipper sounded loud in the relative silence of the room, but loud felt right just now. Denim parted

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under his hand and Tyler lifted his hips, thrusting up to meet Marcuss fingers, hot and hard and very erect. It worked like fuel on a fire. Marcus groaned and kissed him again, crushing their mouths together and bruising his lips on Tyler's teeth. Tented fabric brushed aside, Marcus curled Tyler's cock against his palm. Tyler arched up sharply, Marcuss name on his lips. "Sorry," he panted a second later and slung an arm around Marcuss neck. "Sorry, no talking." Words dissolved into a rain of kisses and bites that followed the line of Marcuss collarbone. He'd had never held another man in his hand. When Tyler's cock jerked, his balls drew up in response. "Fast," he warned, barely able to breathe. "It's gotta be fast. Now," he demanded as he felt his control disintegrate. He thrust down hard against Tyler's hip and stroked him faster, roughly. The sting of the scrapes Tyler left on his skin when he came, spilling sticky heat in heavy pulses through Marcuss fingers, got lost in the blur and buzz of Marcuss own release. In the moments after, when the world started spiraling down to its usual pace, he noticed the sensation but didn't mind. Marcus let go of Tyler. The other man lay still beneath him, save the heaving of his chest. His eyes were closed and a hand fisted in his own hair. Marcus caught himself smiling, satisfied. Caught himself thinking beautiful and asked, "You okay?" Tyler's eyes fluttered open. Marcus watched his pupils readjust, focusing. "Yeah. Yeah." He searched Marcuss face. "Yeah, I'm okay. That was ... intense." "And the hottest thing I've ever seen." Both men flinched. Marcus sat up first. He felt Tyler lean against him as they looked to the doorway. Sela stood there, clutching the towel around her. As they watched, a rosy blush crept into her cheeks. "Ah, hi," she said when the silence stretched thin. "Don't mind me. Just

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getting dressed. Don't let me stop you." She paused, then grinned brightly. "Don't let me stop you, please."

Complicated didn't begin to explain what their lives had just become. Sela couldn't find a reason to call complications anything but good. "You liked that?" Marcuss forehead wrinkled. "Seriously?" "Oh yeah," she enthused and padded toward the couch. "The two of you, so wrapped up in each other that you weren't going to stop for anything?" She smiled slowly. "Oh yeah. You were gorgeous," she added, looking at Tyler too. "Both of you. I feel like I won the lottery or something." Tyler snorted. When she arched an eyebrow, he said, "It's not funny. I'm not gay." Sela's shoulder rose and fell. "So don't use the word. Do what feels good." Her gaze shifted between them, both of their jaws set stubbornly. "It's just sex, guys. It's not the start of a war. Call it a one-time out-of-body fluke if you want and let it go. It doesn't have to mean anything." She wanted it to. She hadn't meant to watch them. She didn't know there was anything to see, but when she'd come out of the shower and caught them, she hadn't been able to walk away. She needed to see every second, down to the last shudder and caress. Seeing them kiss, watching Marcus thrust against Tyler and seeing Tyler's head tipped back as he gasped for breath turned her on, no question. Desire still pulsed between her legs, but it was more than that. For those few minutes, neither one of them had been restrained or tense or falsely polite. There'd been no minding manners and no playing roles. They were just men doing what felt best. They were gorgeous. And she selfishly wanted them to do it again. She wanted both her men. If they wanted each other, so much the better.

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"You really liked it?" Marcus asked again, studying her as if he'd never really seen her before. His scrutiny made her laugh and blush again, but she nodded all the same. "I really liked it," she confirmed and leaned down to brush her mouth against his. "A lot," she mumbled and kissed him again. She met his gaze when their mouths parted, then turned to look at Tyler, who watched her just as curiously. Sela'd never been one for holding back and not going after her desires. She wasn't going to start now. She exhaled as she moved in closer, put one knee on the couch between them and leaned down to kiss Tyler, too. He slid his fingers into her hair right away, murmuring against her mouth as his tongue slicked past her lips hungrily. Surprise thrilled through her, followed hard by a new, fierce wave of desire. The flames blazed higher when Marcus put his hands on her hips, pulling her back into his lap. He reached for the towel, untying the knot of terrycloth tucked between her breasts. He let his hand rest there for a moment while he traced the curve of her ear with his lips. Then pulled away, tugged the towel open with the gesture. It left her boldly on display. Tyler's gaze devoured her and set her skin tingling. He moved closer, rolling forward on his knees, then he glanced over her shoulder. A silent bid for permission. Marcus hefted one breast against his palm and caught her nipple, pinching it harder. Sela arched her back. Tyler groaned, closing the last distance between them to kiss her again as he trapped her between their bodies. She could feel Marcuss erection hot against the curve over her ass. Tyler's brushed against her thigh like a brand. He slid his hand between her thighs, finding her clit and stroking it once, a teasing touch that made her cry into his mouth and rock her hips forward. Marcus shuddered beneath her.

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Tyler's gaze shifted to the side again when the kiss broke. The faintest hint of a grin touched his mouth, then he put his hands at Sela's waist. Marcuss fingers rested at her ribs. Together, they moved her. She couldn't breathe. Marcus cock nudged into her depths, then filled her completely. Her eyes drifted shut and her breath locked in her throat. She arched her back again, pressing her back against his shoulders. He slid his hand up her body, brushing a nipple again before he turned her head and kissed her at an awkward angle she didn't mind at all. She wound her arm around his neck, fingernails scraping his skin. And felt wet heat against her clit. Tyler. Jesus! She forced her eyes open, looking down her body. He'd stretched out as best he could, one leg dangling off the sofa to keep from falling. He looked up briefly, then grinned and lowered his head again. His tongue took up where his fingers had left off, teasing her tighter as he circled her clit. She climaxed hard and fast, sensation overwhelming her without warning. Marcus tensed beneath her and flexed his hips upward. Tyler lapped at her faster and she knotted her hand in his hair. Again. Again. It was all she could do not to beg. She shouldn't have worried. Together, they pushed her to another climax. This time, Marcus warned beneath her ear, his voice hot and heavy, he'd come with her. She felt him pulse inside her and twisted her lips against Tyler's mouth. Marcus bucked and jerked behind her. Sela fisted her hand and rode the shuddering waves again. Tyler, his other hand wrapped around his cock, pistoned himself through his own fingers until he too was spent. Then he pushed himself up to join them and leaned in for a kiss. Not from her. He leaned past her shoulder and kissed Marcus. A long, lingering kiss. He pulled back, met her gaze for a moment, then went back for another. Marcus murmured and his hips flexed into her again. She let her fingers graze Tyler's shoulder and skim the line of his body to his hip.

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Then over his thigh and to his still-sensitive cock. He jerked when she touched him. He nipped her shoulder and licked the mark. She saw Marcuss hand move, curling in Tyler's hair. Complicated had never felt so good.

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Chapter Seven

The Friday night barbeque was a Lone Tree tradition. On that night, Uncle Hector and the boys cleaned out the fire pit and guests and employees alike were invited to come and eat as much as they could. When the weather was good and warm enough, they played music and called it a dance. Tonight, it was Nick's turn to entertain. The desk manager brought out his guitar and played a few tunes to get the group moving. He had a fantastic singing voice and loved to ham it up for the resort visitors. People laughed until their sides ached when Nick was at his best. Tyler sat at the edge of it tonight, not quite feeling a part of the festivities. He had too much on his mind to want to celebrate. He could have, maybe should have, walked away from Sela and Marcus. He'd keep his promise to help out on the case, but Marcus had nailed the problem on the head. Spending the night with them, not knowing exactly which arm or leg or body belonged to which person confused him. No, he wasn't confused. He felt satisfied. Content. Happy. Distracted. He woke up with his nose in Sela's hair and Marcuss hand splayed against his hip. If he hadn't been hard from

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dreaming, a moment's study of the other two, carelessly sprawled across one another, would have had him stiff and eager to go. Not that he'd held back. Sela wouldn't let him. Marcus encouraged her. In truth, they all seemed to have fallen into a curious sort of comfort about the whole thing. There were no more protests, no more uneasy glances. This morning over breakfast, the big man Tyler had come to think of as perpetually gruff gave him the sort of smile that caused Tyler to count the heartbeats in his cock. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He'd never considered kissing a man. If he'd had to take a chance, it wouldn't have been on someone like Marcus. The man intimidated him. He could hurt him if he tried. And yet, he had a gentle touch. Kissing him felt good in a whole host of unfamiliar ways. Tyler swallowed a groan and rubbed a hand over his face. Not here, not now. He would never live down a hard on in public. He bit the inside of his cheek and thought of cold coffee. Rancid milk. The dirty floor of a stall left too long ... "Hey." Tyler looked up in time to see Miranda sit down. She headed up the housekeeping staff at the resort. A dark-eyed beauty, she and Tyler had hit it off right away. They'd spent more than one night tangled up together a year ago. Then they'd come to the mutual agreement that they made better friends than lovers and let the relationship go. She settled beside him on the old piece of deadwood he'd chosen as a seat. He shifted over to give her more room. "Hey yourself. What're you doing way over here?" Miranda smiled and tucked a long, spiraling lock of hair behind her ear. Her hair coiled like loosely-twisted springs to the small of her back. Tyler had wasted a good deal of time

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testing how far they'd rebound when stretched straight. "I could ask you the same thing. You've been awfully quiet lately. Is everything all right?" Tyler had no easy answers for her. He had none for himself, so it hardly surprised him. Still, there were things that one friend should be able to say to another. His situation made that impossible. So he summoned up a smile and exhaled a breath of near-laughter. "Yeah, everything's good. Just got a little overwhelmed this week. I think my brain's still trying to catch up." No think about it. Miranda wrinkled her nose. "The old friend?" She smiled faintly when he cocked an eyebrow. "Alex told me about it, a couple days ago. Said you seemed really upset when he ran into you." Tyler's stomach plummeted toward his toes. "He's talking about me? About us?" She nodded, eyebrows climbing slowly. "Yeah. He told a bunch of us over lunch." Her smile returned, showing off a dimple. "I think it's sweet." He didn't mean to stare, but couldn't seem to make himself blink. "You do?" She shrugged. "Sure. I haven't brought my boyfriend over here because I'm nervous about you all meeting him too. I don't blame you for keeping her quiet." "Her." Now he understood. He grinned to cover his confusion. "Oh! Right. Her. Yeah, well." He scratched his head. "I'm sure you'll like her if I ever work up the guts." Miranda nudged his shoulder lightly. "I happen to think you've got pretty good taste." "Not that you're at all biased," Tyler joked. She grinned widely. "Not in the least." They settled into a comfortable silence for a while, the night full of laughter, music and the pop of wood in the bonfire. Miranda stretched her legs out and pointed her toes. "Alex, you know, he talks a lot." Tyler thought she'd lowered her voice. She definitely leaned against his shoulder again.

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Tyler's eyebrows tugged together. "Talks a lot about what?" "Plans, mostly." The flash of a grin came quick this time. "How he's not going to stick around here long. The little something he's got going on the side that he expects will make him a lot of money in the long run." The short hairs at the back of Tyler's neck stood on end. "What kind of something?" Miranda's shoulders moved again. Now, she all but whispered. With their heads bowed together as they were, no doubt they looked like they were flirting. Let people think what they would. "He never gives any real details, you know?" She twisted her fingers into a fold of her jeans. "Just that any day now it's going to pay off. Mostly I ignore him," she confessed. "I know he says a lot of it to try and impress me." She snorted. "Guy doesn't know how to take no for an answer." "But something different happened?" God, he'd even started talking like Marcus. Miranda nodded and glanced sidelong at him. "Ever since he talked about running into you, he's been really edgy. Short-tempered, you know? And jumpy. I tapped him on the shoulder at lunch yesterday and, I swear, if I hadn't moved, I think he might have punched me. I surprised him, I guess, but he doesn't usually act like that." Tyler frowned. "He didn't touch you, did he?" Even in the firelight, he could tell that she blushed. "No, not even close. He calmed down right away. But then, this morning, when I was cleaning cottages, he followed me inside number three." She glanced around, pausing when someone stumbled by on the way to a bathroom. She continued only after he'd left hearing range. "This morning, he told me it'd all be over tonight. His business prospects had dried up or something. He had to talk to his contact one last time, then he'd turn in his two-week notice." She ducked her head, guilty. "He asked me to go with him. I kind of freaked out."

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This could be the move that Marcus and Sela anticipated. If Alex's "business" closed up tonight, he'd be moving the guns off the resort property. Tyler'd found one crate, but there was no telling how many more might be scattered around. "Freaked out how?" His heartbeat tripped along double-time. Miranda wrinkled her nose. "I told him off. Called him a dirty old man, that kind of thing. I mean, he's old enough to be my dad, Tyler. I lost it, and I feel bad, but I'm kind of scared too. With him acting weird and all, I wanted to tell someone. You're the safest guy I know out here. I hope you don't mind." "No. You did the right thing." He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "You stick with me and you'll be all right." He'd walk her back to her cabin in a little while, then get the news to Marcus and Sela. They'd know what really had to be done.

Sela had the easy part of the assignment this time. Some of their riskier cases required months of language studies, or training in specializations she'd never use again, just to fool a target into thinking she knew how to handle herself in negotiations or in black market deals. Charming a bad man who liked younger women into thinking she wanted him? Piece of cake. Miranda told Tyler that the last place she'd seen their man was at the bar the Lone Tree kept stocked for their guests' convenience. So Sela put on something a little more low-cut than usual, brushed her hair until it shone like a movie star's, and headed out for a drink. True to report, she found him still there, sitting alone and muttering to himself from time to time. No bartender waited on him, which suited Sela nicely. There'd be no one to overhear the lines she fed him. She swayed her hips a little exaggeratedly as she wandered up to the bar and settled on the stool beside him.

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As older men went, Alex wasn't so bad. He clearly kept in shape and the silver in his hair added to his appeal. Sela could see why he might have luck with some of the younger ladies who passed through the Lone Tree. Some lucky actors made a killing with the distinguished look. Alex could almost have made it on the silver screen. "Lost?" He asked before he knocked back the rest of a shot of whiskey. "The party's outside tonight." "Oh, I know. I'm not feeling much like a party." She put on her best wobbly smile. "Am I interrupting something private or can I talk you into sharing?" Alex studied her, his gaze dipping toward her cleavage without apology. "Anything for the lady," he answered and stepped behind the bar to set up a second shot glass. He filled it and nudged it toward her. "I'm Alex." "Sela. Thanks." She lifted the shot in toast and tossed it back. She played up her reaction, though the shudder wasn't entirely faked. Whiskey had never been her favorite drink. "One more," she said, and nudged the shot glass back. He refilled it with a knowing grin. "So what's the trouble, Sela? Someone break your heart?" She could have kissed him for setting her up so nicely. On cue, she turned on the waterworks, eyes filling with tears. She'd learned the trick in college, working on a studentproduced play. She'd impressed the director then, and the ability to cry on command had come in handy several times since. Like now. She pressed a visibly trembling hand to her mouth, then ducked her head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to get all drippy on you." "Not at all, not at all." Alex touched her hand. "You want to talk about it? I'm pretty good at listening." He added more whiskey to the glass. "This one's a double. Maybe you oughta sip."

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One shot was more than enough to loosen the phony ties on Sela's tongue. She wouldn't be drinking any more tonight. Instead, she took a breath that made her breasts heave and sighed just as deeply. "It's my husband. I think he's cheating on me." She sniffled for effect. "Some kind of lousy honeymoon, huh?" "You're having your honeymoon here? It's a nice place for that. Not if your husband's really on the prowl, though. You sure you're not just imagining things?" He smiled and chuckled at himself. "Men, we're not always so good at not paying attention when another pretty girl walks by, no matter how gorgeous the girl we've got might be. Maybe he's just looking." "I wouldn't mind if he looked," Sela agreed. "I mean, I look, don't I? But it's more than that. I ..." She hesitated and bit her bottom lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she knew she had him hooked. Now to reel him in. "I think he's having an affair with another man." Which, she wouldn't confess to dear Alex, still made heat pool between her thighs. She hadn't been lying when she told Tyler and Marcus that they were the best thing she'd ever seen. They were breath-taking together, whether they touched one another or just talked. She didn't think they realized how close they'd gotten in just a few days. They were still puzzling everything out, but she could see it. It showed in the way Marcus relaxed with Tyler around and in the glint in Tyler's eye when they were together. Perfect. Alex wet his lips. "I'm gonna ask you a question," he began cautiously. "And you might not like where it ends up, but I promise I'm not doing it to hurt you. All right?" Sela nodded quickly. "All right. I trust you, Alex." That sort of nave statement would just cement his belief in her sob story. Alex took her hand gently. He righted the wedding ring she wore with a casual pass of his thumb. "Your husband. He wouldn't happen to be the black Mack-truck looking guy who's been around, would he?"

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Sela widened her eyes. "Marcus! That's him." Just as abruptly, she squinted. "You saw something. Didn't you?" She gripped his hand tightly. "Tell me. I want to know." Alex wiped the free hand over his mouth. "I don't think you do." She turned on the waterworks again. "Oh, God, it's true." She covered her face and let her shoulders shake. Alex came around the bar and slid his arm around them, pulling her sideways to lean against his chest. She tipped willingly and buried her face against his shirt. Then lifted it, tear-streaked, and said determinedly, "I hate men." Alex laughed. "All of 'em? We're not all so bad." He paused and she could almost hear him think. "You have any idea what you want to do about it? Your husband, I mean." Sela turned to consider the whiskey glass, drawing false courage from the alcohol inside. She reached for it, tugging it closer, and picked it up like she planned to drink it after all. "I could leave. I could just leave him here and go home." "Thatta girl," Alex enthused. "You oughta leave him. But don't go home. Wouldn't he just look for you there? This is your vacation, you oughta have some fun. Go on a trip and kick up your heels." He leaned close and she used the bump of shoulders to slosh whiskey out of the glass. "What if I told you I could get you out of here tomorrow, with enough cash to go anywhere you wanted?" Again, her eyes widened. "You'd do that for me?" Sela frowned. "Why? You don't know me. I don't know you." He shook his head. "Don't need to know you to see that things aren't right. Way I see it, you get to have some fun, your husband has to decide whether he loves you enough to chase you down. Pretty thing like you," he added, brushing a thumb against the drying tear tracks on her cheek. "He'd be a fool to stick around here and let you go." If he chased after her, he'd be out of Alex's way. It made sense and Sela had to admire his cunning. Smart men made the catch all the more satisfying. "I'd just have to wait until tomorrow?"

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Alex nodded. "First thing in the morning. Matter of fact," he amended, straightening up. "Maybe not even that long." His gaze shifted to the clock over the bar and slid back to Sela. "How do you feel about taking a walk with me?" Tyler and Marcus were waiting for her to leave the bar. She was more than ready to find out exactly what they were dealing with and put Alex away. So she swallowed half of what remained in the shot glass, coughed fitfully and blushed like a pro. "I think a walk would be a good idea."

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Chapter Eight

Marcus lowered the filtered binoculars in disgust. The sight of Sela hanging on another man's arm, simpering and flirting shamelessly to keep his attention, made him grind his teeth. She had to play the part to get Alex where they all wanted him. Didn't mean Marcus had to like it. He wouldn't get in the way of how she did her job, not now, not ever. She knew all the tricks to get information out of even the toughest subject. Getting Alex to talk wouldn't even make her break a sweat. "How are you with a gun?" Tyler'd been watching beside him, just as silent, just as tight-jawed. He startled now. "Depends on the gun? Pretty good with a hunting rifle." "What about a .38?" He didn't wait for an answer, just eased an extra out of hiding where he'd tucked it into the small of his back. His still rested in the shoulder holster he wore. He offered the spare butt-first and turned his head to look at Tyler only when he didn't take it. "Something wrong?"

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Tyler shook himself. "No, no. Been a while," he said as he took the gun, "but I can manage." He fell silent while he tucked it against his back. "You think we're going to need them?" Marcus pursed his lips. "Let's hope not."

Sela felt like she had melted chocolate under her skin. Even a few sips of whiskey went to her head. She'd been smart to spill as much as she had. More than that and she'd compromise what they were trying to do. Alex led her along the dirt road that went to the highway. They wandered rather than hurrying, and Alex made small talk along the way. He told her about his time on the rodeo circuit and how a bad fall off an angry bull had ended his career. Rodeo, he informed her wisely, was a young man's game. Once you got old, staying to play might as well be suicide. So he'd left and worked a string of jobs that lead to this one, each one paying a little better, each one giving him a few more responsibilities. He spoke fondly of Hector and Vivian, Tyler's family. He felt grateful, he told her, that they'd given him a chance at the Lone Tree. But the time had come for him to move on. The truck idling just ahead by an outbuilding was his ticket out. Despite herself, Sela's heartbeat kicked up a notch or three. She rarely got nervous, but in better circumstances, she knew exactly when and where Marcus and the team would sweep in for the rescue. Not so tonight. If things went wrong, she might be on her own. They'd had contact with the teams en route. She knew they were out there somewhere, waiting for an unseen command. She had a .22 strapped to her thigh, but what if there were more than a couple men in that truck? No matter what her rating at the range might be, she still had to respect simple odds. Too outnumbered and she risked everything. So she kept her gaze moving, hoping for some sort of sign that Marcus and Tyler at least were with her. She trusted them to be there if they could, but she had no guarantees

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that Alex worked alone. Sela wasn't a religious girl but she breathed a prayer that things went down well all the same. "You just wait here now," Alex said, startling her out of her thoughts. They'd stopped far enough away from the truck that she couldn't see how many men might be inside. They had a good shot at her, though. One wrong move and she made an easy target. She put on a smile and nodded. "Those friends of yours?" He hesitated and ducked his head. "Acquaintances. People you'd be better off to avoid in a dark alley, but they have their charms." He leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth. The gesture was uninvited and the hitch in Sela's breath was real, but she tilted her chin and let her smile warm. No reason to blow the whistle just yet. Alex sauntered off to lean in the window of the idling flatbed for a moment, then slapped a hand on the door and turned toward the lone outbuilding nearby. His hand dipped into his pocket for a set of keys. Once the door was open and the light inside on, whoever was driving shut off the truck's engine. The driver side door swung open and one man slipped out. Sela held her breath waiting for passengers to follow. The door remained ajar but no one else climbed out. One man to handle an arms transaction? Maybe this stop was insignificant enough that whoever headed up the organization figured they could skimp on security. Bad for the bad guys. Good for the good. Alex and the stranger carried a crate between them back to the truck. They hauled it up on the bed and Alex swiveled the top open. He pulled something out and held it out to the other man. Who took it and held it high enough that its shape could be clearly seen. A rifle, probably a semi-automatic. That was enough evidence for Sela. She started hitching up her skirt.

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The sound of gunfire shattered the night. One of the truck's headlights blew. She saw shapes moving and heard people shout commands before the second followed in short order. She sat where she stood and worked the .22 out of its holster. Perfect. Backup, just as planned. Now the important part was keeping track of Alex. He made it far too easy. He charged toward her, shouting her name. Sela kept her finger on the trigger of her pistol as she climbed carefully to her feet. The quaver in her voice didn't take much of a boost. She hated fighting in the dark. The nerves he heard were real. The flatbed engine roared to life and the running lights lit up. The report of another shot being fired stopped the driver before he could flee. Sela heard him shouting in pain. One down, how many more to go? "What's going on? Alex? What's happening?" "Someone double-crossed me," the man said. "Three guesses about who and the first two don't count." The sound of Alex's weapon being cocked sounded loud as a thunderclap. It got drowned out by the roar and whine of another shot being fired. Alex spun, his shoulder leading. He dropped to the ground and writhed, screaming that he'd been hit. Sela hadn't, though she'd felt the bullet pass, a streak of heat that almost touched her cheek. Weak in the knees, she staggered around to see who'd saved her. And ended up in Tyler's arms. "Got you," he murmured into her hair. He crushed her tight against his chest. She could hardly breathe. Marcus jogged across the road, knelt for a moment by Alex, then straightened and joined them. "Got them," he announced. "There's nobody else in the truck. We can clean it up." Sela held a hand out to her partner. She hadn't left Tyler's embrace. She didn't want to any time soon. "Marcus, please."

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The big man hesitated. She knew something passed between her two men. She heard Marcus exhale and felt Tyler relax a second before Marcus folded them both into his arms. "We did good. We all did good. Make one hell of a team," he allowed, voice gone gruff. Tyler laughed, more breath than sound. "Not so bad for a country hick, then?" Marcus chuckled. "Not so bad." Sela rubbed her cheek against Tyler's chest. "You guys left me hanging. I didn't know where you were." "Covering your six," Marcus answered fondly. "And your five-and-a-half." She felt his lips brush her forehead and she closed her eyes. "Always watching over you, Reeves. You don't have to worry about that." "Yeah," Tyler echoed, after a few moments had passed. "He's quick, for a big guy. Good at watching your back." Sela smiled, a surge of pride filling her chest. "He's a good one. I got lucky." She looked up at Tyler and nudged him with her hip. "Are you sorry that you got in the middle of all this yet?" He shrugged and cracked a crooked grin. "Too much curiosity for my own good. You guys made me paranoid. Just in time." "Get used to being paranoid," Marcus said. "The fun's just getting started. I'm going to apologize to you and your family now. Tomorrow morning, there's gonna be a whole hell of a lot of people crawling around the place." "But we owe you," Sela added quickly. "Thank you." "Nah. I figure we're even." Tyler tightened his grip. "You guys'll be taking off once this is all wrapped up, right? Off to do more Agency things." One shoulder rose and fell. "So call it a wedding present." "Tyler ... "

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"Just saying I know where my place is." She felt him shrug again. "I should probably get out of your way, speaking of." He slipped out of the cluster before Sela could stop him. When she would have followed, Marcus held her still and nodded toward the approaching silhouette Victor Flores made. Just like Jerry promised, the cavalry had arrived. "Work first," Marcus murmured. "We'll fix the rest later." She wanted to protest. She knew he had it right. "I'm not letting him go," she told Marcus quietly. "Job or not, this is not the way we're going to end." Marcus held on a moment longer, then he let go too. "Let's get this wrapped up, Reeves. Then we'll decide how it goes." She watched his silhouette stand straighter, shoulders settling into their usual impassive place. Sela summoned up her best smile and waited for the debriefing to begin.

*****
It took the better part of a day to get through all the reports that had to be made. Sela and Marcus both took turns being questioned, in person and on the phone, eating up hours of airtime going over the details again. Faxes and emails flew between agents and reports were checked and double-checked. Efficient, if exhausting. Rewarding. One arm of the network they'd been tracking for months had now been disabled, thanks to Tyler's help. Sela smiled as she sat on the borrowed cabin porch, kneading muscles in her neck, eyes closed. He'd done well, better than she had expected. He'd helped when he had every right to walk away and have nothing more to do with her. He hadn't spent the night. Not that anyone got much sleep. She still wanted him where she could see him. She needed to know he was doing all right. Taking down the bad guys sounded less terrifying

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than the reality. She'd been trained to cope with those sort of stresses. Tyler was a civilian. She had no way to know if he'd crack. "Hey." Marcus sank into a crouch behind her, hands taking up where she left off, thumbs digging carefully into her shoulders. "You ought to get inside, get some rest." Sela leaned gratefully against his knees. She let her head drop back until she could see him, albeit upside down. She didn't want to turn around. "Are you going to rest too?" "Thought I might watch over you," he countered, shaking his head. "Sounds good." She closed her eyes again. Marcus kissed her. Despite being upside down, their mouths fit together perfectly. Surprise didn't keep her from nibbling at the swell of his bottom lip or keep him from tracing her upper with his tongue. When it broke, Sela chose to move after all, tucking herself into the curve of the arm he offered. "We could," she murmured, "do something other than sleep. Celebrate," she suggested, working a finger between his shirt buttons to stroke a finger along his ribs. "You sure you're up for it?" She grinned up at him. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to ask you?" The sudden thought that she might have lost the man who'd come to mean so much to her dimmed her smile. She heard the hope in her voice as she asked, "Are we good?" Marcus brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. "We're good," he promised. His gaze lifted and warmed, she thought. He nodded over her shoulder. "And you've got company." "With bad timing." Tyler stood behind her, hands buried deep in his pockets. He tugged one free as she started to stand and gestured her back to sitting. "You don't have to get up. I just wanted to come say goodbye. Rumor is you're leaving first thing tomorrow. I'll be out taking care of the horses and such, but I didn't want to miss you."

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Sela held out her hand. She'd make the gesture if he wouldn't. She held her breath until he stepped forward and used his grip to pull herself to her feet. She didn't let him protest, but stepped into him, framed his face between her hands and kissed him sweetly. She felt him tense against her, but she didn't end the kiss until he'd relaxed again. Until he'd responded and kissed her back. "Sela ... " "It's not bad timing," she told him, holding his gaze. "It's perfect. I was worried about you." "I'm okay," he told her, flashing a smile that didn't last. "No, you're not," she argued, brushing her fingers over the line between his eyebrows. "Talk to me." "What's to talk about? You got your guy. You'll be shipping out, right?" His gaze lifted to Marcus and came back to hers again. "That's it." Sela's chest felt tight. "It doesn't have to be. We get time off. You have to get vacation, even if you're working at a vacation resort." Tyler ducked his head and chuckled. "Yeah, sometimes." "So." She watched him hopefully. When his smile didn't return, she sighed. "Hughes, help me out." She heard the laughter in his voice and knew he was smiling though she didn't face him. "Standing invitation," he offered. "When we're in the States. If our time matches up." He paused. "You want it, we can make it work." Tyler's gaze shifted between them again. Surprise dominated his expression. "You sure?" The porch creaked under Marcus feet as he stood. "She goes for what she wants," he offered conversationally and paused again before adding, "Guess I'm learning to go for it too.

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"Say thank you," the big man suggested. When Sela looked over her shoulder at him, he gave her a slight nod. "Marcus," Tyler protested. "I didn't mean to steal your girl." "I know," he answered easily. "But you can't steal what isn't mine. Sela makes her own choices." That said, he turned and stepped into the cabin. He left the door open behind him. Sela tugged his chin down so Tyler would look at her again. She brushed her thumb beneath his bottom lip this time. "What do you say?" Tyler opened his mouth and shut it again. "You kissed me in front of everybody." She smiled. "Want me to do it again?" A wry smile twisted one corner of Tyler's mouth. "Will it get you fired?" She laughed quietly and shook her head. "They wouldn't dare." The weight of what she was about to confess stole her breath. She put her head against his chest and knotted her fingers at his back, another moment's stalling before she looked up again. "I love him. Marcus. But I miss you, too. I think," she added, picking at a non-existent loose thread on his shirt. "I think I'm still in love with you, too. I didn't realize it until I saw you that first day, but I don't want to give you up. Not when I just found you again." "I don't want to be lost," Tyler answered, one hand threaded into his hair. "But Marcus --" Her shoulders lifted. "Likes you." When his brow furrowed, she insisted, "Really likes you. He's not the touchy-feely, tell-you type, but I know it. You know it too. If you don't, you've got a thicker skull than I thought." She had him smiling and that made her chest loosen. "You heard him. I go for what I want. I want you. I want him." She nudged him with her hip. "He's got great hands." Tyler laughed again, this time the sound more solid. "Don't remind me. You can have them. I think about them, I start forgetting everything else I have to do." "Can I have yours too?" She held her breath, hoping. Willing him to agree.

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It seemed like it took forever for him to say anything. He groaned, the sound drawn out but quiet. "There's ... stuff to work out. Details. It could get complicated." Sela beamed and stepped back, then caught his hands. He let her lead him onto the porch and through the still open door. When she closed it behind then, when she leaned back and considered both of her men in the same room, she wanted to shout for joy. "Complicated's good." Marcus cocked an eyebrow, glancing between them. Sela slid her arm around Tyler's waist and nudged him toward the other man. "Can we keep him? He followed me home." "Might be hard to fit him in a suitcase," Marcus pointed out, watching Tyler's approach. "Guess you'll need a crate. Or a very large box. Or lots of free time." Tyler held his hand out in an offer to shake. Marcus took it, but he didn't stop with friendly gestures. He pulled Tyler close by that grip, slid the free hand into his hair and kissed him hungrily. Tyler wound his arms around the taller man's neck and kissed back with enthusiasm. Sela leaned against the door happily. Maybe coming back to Texas wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Sienna Black
Sienna Black is a thirtysomething author living in northern California with her partner and a handful of animals, large and small. She's been writing since she was small, but she's a relative newcomer to the world of m/m fiction. To say that she's thrilled to have found an audience would be an understatement. She writes primarily paranormal romances for her boys, but there's no telling where they'll lead her next.