“We wanted to talk to you first.”

“Okaaaaay.” Matt looked from one to the other. “Why?”

“You called Chris an errand boy.”

Wow, and Dare sounded none too happy about that. “He isn’t?”

“Hell, no,” Trace said.

“So then…” Did he dare ask? This was his life, his love, his future. He dared. “What would you call him?”

Without hesitation, Dare said, “The heart and soul of our enterprise.”

“The pulse.”

“Invaluable,” Dare added. “A brother, best friend. Irreplaceable.”

Trace agreed. “Don’t let Chris’s lazy demeanor confuse you. You have a nice shop here.”

“Salon,” Matt corrected.

“I can see you do a fair amount of business.”

“Yes.” Matt all but beamed with pride. “I have a very exclusive clientele.”

Trace leaned in. “Chris could run this place without breaking a sweat.”

Matt knew Chris was capable; he didn’t need others to point it out. “Is that so?”

With a nod, Dare said, “He can run a household at the same time, too.”

The effusive gushing pushed Matt back in his chair. “You’re saying he runs your business?”

Both men nodded this time. “And then some.”

Now or never, Matt decided. He drew in a breath. “And your business is…?”

Apparently they’d already made up their minds to confide in him. Dare stood and came around to the left side of Matt’s desk. “We operate outside the law, but usually with immunity. We have contacts in law enforcement, but we only coordinate with them when necessary, and when it’s convenient.”

“We also have far-reaching political connections.” Trace moved in on the right side of the desk. “Connections that come in handy when we need the extra pull.”

“Or when we want to keep something buried.”

Buried? That sounded so ominous. They had him caged in, and Matt started to wonder about their specific purpose for the visit.

Gauging his chances of making an escape, he leaned forward.

And Dare said, “You will never, under any circumstances, repeat what we’re telling you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Matt swore.

Trace took his measure, and must have decided to believe him. “We save lives.”

Whoa. Matt collapsed back again. “How…” He had to clear his throat. “How does that work, exactly?”

“Human trafficking has become a very real problem that we’re good at solving.”

So they were heroes? Fascinating. Matt managed a weak laugh. “This is sort of hilarious, because all this time, I thought maybe you killed people.”

Neither Dare nor Trace smiled with him. Uh-oh.

When he cleared his throat this time, he sounded like a dying frog. “Forget I said that.”

Narrow-eyed with menace, Trace said, “You think scumbag traffickers give up victims without a fight?”

Dare added, “You think they miraculously stop dealing in flesh just because we free their captives?” His words were all the more deadly for his calm tone.

If his eyes got any wider, Matt thought they might fall out of his head. “No?”

That must have been the right answer, because they went back to singing Chris’s praises.

“Not many men could do everything Chris does in a day.”

“And even fewer are as ethical as he is.”

“Don’t let his preference for sloppy clothes fool you. He can handle himself.”

Matt pushed back his chair and stood. “I know, all right? I didn’t fall in love with him because he’s an obnoxious or inept person.” He paced past Dare, across the room and back again. “Now I understand why I can’t just drop in, and why Chris was so annoyed by that—and no, I won’t ever do that again.”

“He has to be circumspect in all things, and he has to guard my privacy at all costs.” Dare crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Matt. “I have no idea if that’s what’s holding him up. If it’s not, if Chris plain isn’t interested, then you won’t come back again uninvited.”

That idea was too repugnant to consider. “He is, I’m sure of it.”

“If that’s so, if he accepts you, then I have no problem with you coming and going freely.”

“It’s Chris’s choice.” Trace stepped toward the door. “Feel free to come to dinner tonight.”

“My place. Six o’clock.” Dare turned to leave too. “You can tell Chris that you know everything. That ought to cut through the confusion. But remember—”

“I will never breathe a word.” Hand over his heart, Matt said, “I swear.”

“I was going to say, remember that this is Chris’s decision. Whatever he wants, you will respect his wishes.” Dare paused at the door, glanced at Trace, and together they turned back to face Matt. “Good luck.”

Matt caught his breath. They wished him luck! “Thank you.”

After they finally exited his small office, Matt stood there, overwhelmed for several beats of his heart before he got his feet unglued. If this was to be the big night, he wanted to prepare.

Grabbing up his keys from his desk drawer, he hurried from the room. Luckily he didn’t have any clients waiting; he’d planned to spend the rest of the day going over his books. Aware of all the scandalized whispers from clients and employees alike, he stopped at the reservation desk to announce his departure for the day.