CHAPTER ONE

In one smooth, clean move, Chris Chapey dove into the lake, counting on the cool water and the blazing afternoon sun to lull his turbulent thoughts.

Up the hill, from where they were collected on the deck for another big gathering, he heard the muted conversation of badass men and strong women. Friends he loved. People he admired.

Right now, he felt very apart from them.

His fault, not theirs.

Barely moving his legs to stay afloat, Chris closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the gentle lap of the water. Usually that worked.

Not this time.

He thought back to when he and Dare Macintosh had shared this property alone, Dare in his expansive house up the hill, Chris in his smaller home that sat closer to the lake. Because Dare’s job as a high-level mercenary required ultimate security, Chris’s duties as his right-hand man covered just about everything—from keeping Dare’s records and doing computer work to stocking the fridge and exercising Dare’s beloved dogs. For a very long time, their only visitors had been Dare’s partner, Trace Rivers, and occasionally Trace’s sister, Alani.

Through the years, Dare and Trace had built up contacts in the government, the military and within all the highest-profile businesses. They had friends in high places and better friends in low places. Although they remained based in Kentucky and Ohio, their far-reaching influence allowed them to succeed where local authorities couldn’t.

The success came at a personal cost. Given the top-secret nature of their work, Dare and Trace didn’t trust easily, and because their lives depended on it, they’d guarded their privacy against all intrusions.

But then, while on a mission to save Alani from the human traffickers who’d kidnapped her, Dare had also rescued Molly Alexander. In short order, they’d fallen in love and married. No problem. Chris enjoyed seeing Dare so happy.

Not too long after that, Trace had met Priss Patterson…and married her. By then, Dare and Trace had brought a third man, Jackson Savor, into the organization. Jackson had fallen hard for Trace’s sister, Alani, and they were not only married now, but they also had a beautiful little girl whom everyone adored, most especially Chris.

Having those ladies as regulars at the lake hadn’t prepared anyone for Arizona Storm. She was like a little sister to Jackson, and had been by far the most wounded soul Chris had ever met. Thank God Spencer Lark had proved a reasonable, determined man. He’d not only won Arizona’s heart, but also respect from Trace and Dare and acceptance from Jackson. Even before Spencer had proposed to Arizona, he’d been invited to join the mercenaries’ ranks.

Together they all made up one big happy family of matrimonial bliss.

Disgusted with himself, Chris dunked his head under the water, shoved his hair away from his face and flipped to his back to float.

Low laughter and conversation drifted around him. Dare and Molly loved holding court, inviting everyone to hang out whenever the men weren’t off on another mission. Marriage hadn’t slowed them down; if anything, love made them only more determined to protect others from abuse. They were good at that, at saving innocents, infiltrating situations that others couldn’t, making a difference when the law failed.

Leaving without a trace.

Off to his right, a fat carp jumped out of the water and landed with a splash. Chris barely acknowledged the disturbance.

Someone called down to him, but he pretended not to hear.

Damn it, for a man who didn’t like to stew, lately he’d done an awful lot of it.

In sharp contrast to the chilly water, a hot breeze stirred the air. Chris felt his lax body drifting under the dock, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes, to readjust. Limbs limp, relaxed, he did his best to tune out the world.

Until he heard the baby’s gurgling laughter.

A reluctant smile curved his mouth. Jackson and Alani enjoyed showing off their little angel, and why not? God, that little girl was about the most precious thing ever. Until he’d held her in his arms, Chris hadn’t even known that he liked kids.

Footsteps sounded on the dock overhead. Completely hidden beneath, Chris cracked open one eye, but held silent. Nothing. Maybe whoever it was had decided not to intrude.

He closed his eye again and heard a bigger splash, one of the human variety. A second later, Matt Houser emerged next to him.

Shit.

Allowing his body to straighten, Chris gave up his peaceful floating and planted his feet on the muddy bottom of the lake. “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago.” And then in defiance: “Priss invited me.”

Yeah, Matt and Priss had bonded from the get-go. Because she had no other family, Matt had even stood up with her at her wedding to Trace.

It had been kind of hilarious how Trace had reacted to their fast friendship. Never mind that Matt was g*y; any man who got too close to her earned Trace’s scrutiny. Well, before they were married, anyway. Now Trace still kept a very watchful eye on her, but he acted less like a caveman.

Matt waited, probably hoping that Chris would explain why he hadn’t been the one to invite him. Instead he asked, “Where is Priss?”

“Up at the house.”

Few people knew of Dare’s house, much less set foot on his property. It required an invitation, and admission past the high-tech security system.

Trust was not an easy commodity among the men. And yet…they trusted Matt.

Because Chris trusted him.

Matt’s pale-blond hair stood up in spikes atop his head. Repeated trips to the lake had left his muscular shoulders tanned. A small silver earring glinted in his ear.