“That’s the spirit. Now pout those pretty lips.”

  “What?”

  “Your man’s heading this way.”

  Laz’s pulse sped up, and heat flared through him as Red approached. Red smiled at Laz when he reached them. “Hi, sorry to interrupt.” He handed Laz a brown bag and an iced latte. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it. And you weren’t interrupting.”

  “Well, hello,” Fitz hummed, raking his gaze over Red. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

  “Fitz, this is Red. Red, this is my friend Fitz. He’s a very talented hairstylist and was just leaving.”

  “Enchanté,” Fitz purred, holding his hand out to Red, who shook it with a bemused smile.

  “Um, likewise.”

  “Tell me, Red. Any marriages Laz should know about?”

  “No. What? No. I’ve never been married.” Red was puzzled and rightfully so. Could this conversation get any more awkward?

  “Wonderful. Laz is free this week, by the way. You know, in case you wanted to ask him out to dinner or something.”

  Apparently, it could get more awkward.

  Laz glared at Fitz. I am going to kill you! As if sensing his murderous thoughts, Fitz chirped a quick “Bye” and hurried off.

  “I am so sorry about that,” Laz said. “He has no filter.”

  Red chuckled. “That’s okay. I know a thing or three about meddlesome friends.” He shrugged. “They mean well.” Red motioned to the folding chair. “Why don’t you go ahead and eat.”

  “You sure? I feel kind of weird being the only one eating.”

  “It’s fine. I already ate. Besides, you shouldn’t feel guilty about eating when you’re hungry.”

  It was a bad habit. One he’d picked up thanks to Bryan. It was amazing how much better he felt about everything since he’d left. Only now could he see how toxic their relationship had been. How much of himself he’d given up and allowed to be manipulated. Laz sat on the folding chair, surprised when Red took a seat in the sand beside him, his knees drawn up and his arms resting on them as he gazed out at the ocean.

  “You’re going to get sand all over.”

  Red shrugged and smiled up at him. “I live and work in Florida. Occupational hazard. You were kneeling in the sand when we arrived.”

  “Oh, yeah, I have enough sand in my shoes to build at least two sand castles,” Laz replied, loving the sound of Red’s rich laugh. It was nice sitting here together. They made small talk as Laz ate his sandwich. At first, he was a little self-conscious about eating in front of Red with Red not eating, but as Red leisurely made conversation, Laz found himself forgetting about his insecurities. He made a mental note to stop by Bibi’s more often. He had no idea King’s sister and her husband owned a café so close to St. Augustine Beach. He also discovered Mason and Ace dated for a year before Ace broke things off, yet the two remained good friends. Apparently, Colton knew all about Mason, but then Laz wasn’t surprised. Ace and Colton had built their relationship on trust. They didn’t keep anything from each other. It must be nice, knowing the person you loved could be counted on so completely.

  Once he’d eaten and finished his coffee, he headed back to the shoot with Red beside him. Laz was about to grab his camera when he heard the resounding smack.

  Lonny covered his reddening cheek before he launched himself at Han. “You skank!”

  Laz groaned. Just what he didn’t need. “Great. This is going to leave a mark.” He made to head for the catfight when Ace strolled by.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Ace said, heading for the group of bickering male models who’d gathered around the pair clawing at each other.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Laz called out, trying to warn Ace before turning worriedly to Red. “You have to do something. They’re going to eat him alive.”

  Red groaned. “Too late.”

  “What—” Laz turned and gasped. “Oh my God.” Lonny was wrapped around Ace, arms around his neck, screeching at him, while two more models attempted to climb him just before Han smacked him.

  “That’s not what I meant! Ow! My spleen! Hey, Zoolander, go Blue Steel yourself somewhere else. Oh my God, where are they all coming from?”

  Incredible. Laz had never seen anything like it. “Wow, that escalated quickly.”

  “When Ace is involved, it usually does,” Red mumbled, removing his phone from his pocket.

  “What the hell is goin’ on?” Mason stopped beside them, hands on his utility belt as he shook his head at the spectacle before them. “How does one man cause so much havoc just by opening his mouth? ’Course I shouldn’t be surprised, considering the man got himself cussed at by a nun.”

  Laz’s jaw dropped. “A nun cursed at him?”

  “Yep. She used cuss words I’ve never heard before, and considering my acquaintance with the Kings, that’s saying something. I don’t know what he said to her, but she condemned his soul to hell right then and there. I reckon she would’ve made a deal with the devil himself to have him dragged away. Boy’s got talent for making folks lose their damn minds.”

  Laz wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it. Granted, he hadn’t known Ace very long, and from what he’d gathered, Ace could be a little over-the-top sometimes, but Laz had only ever experienced the playful, caring side of Ace. When Laz had been hurt, Ace had been good to him, looked out for him. What’s more, Colton was madly in love with Ace, and Colton wasn’t the type of man to play fast and loose with his heart. Though now that Laz thought about it, he did often hear Colton threatening Ace with bodily harm.

  “I better step in before he makes things worse,” Mason grumbled.

  “Worse? How can he possibly make things worse?” Every model at the shoot was currently dogpiling Ace, and yet the man was still standing. It was clear he was trying hard not to hurt any of them. Like the rest of the Kings, Ace was a former Green Beret, and although he was a couple of inches shorter than Red, and not as muscular, he was still bigger and stronger than everyone at the shoot, with the exception of Officer Cooper, who reminded Laz of one of those romance novel cowboys, all rippling muscles and swagger, with a sexy Texas drawl.

  Ace could easily throw any of those young men off him, but for some reason he kept trying to talk himself out of it, which only brought about more high-pitched shrieks.

  “It’s Ace. He can always make things worse.” Mason took a step forward, but Red grabbed his arm.

  “No need,” Red said, smiling widely. He waved his phone at them. “I just sent King a video. He’s two minutes away.”

  Mason groaned. Loudly. “Goddamn it, Red. Why would you go and do a fool thing like that? King’s gonna be spitting nails, and I just know I’ll catch hell from him.”

  Red chuckled and patted Mason’s arm. “Don’t worry. Only one King’s going to blame is the smartass who pissed off a bunch of models.”

  “Are you sure calling King was a good idea?” Laz asked Red. “He’s kind of… intense.” King had always been nice to him, but the guy had a larger-than-life presence. When he walked into a room, he captured everyone’s attention, and although he was a good-looking man, it wasn’t what had everyone fascinated. He exuded strength and confidence, along with something else Laz couldn’t quite put his finger on, something that made Laz feel as if he’d known King for years, although they’d only just met. It was odd.

  “You think King’s intense?” Red frowned thoughtfully.

  “Yes. To the rest of us mere mortals,” Mason drawled, “the almighty Ward Kingston is fuckin’ terrifying.”

  As if summoned, King approached, dressed in a stylish white button-down shirt tucked into the waistband of his blue-gray slacks, the sleeves perfectly rolled up to reveal his muscular arms, and the top button undone. He paused beside them long enough to let out a heavy sigh, as if he were mentally preparing himself to deal with Ace and the mess he’d gotten himself into. Laz stood enthralled as King strolled up to Ace and the mountain of models he was currently under. He didn’t yell, didn’t bark orders or pull anyone off Ace.

  “Holy shit,” Mason whispered hoarsely. “Is that… a smile? Is King smiling?”

  Sure enough, he was, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, friendly, but firm.

  “Excuse me.”

  Everyone’s head whipped up, their attention locked on King. The models, their eyes huge, slid off Ace and stood to face the ruggedly handsome man.

  “Hi, I’m Ward Kingston, but you can call me King.” He put a hand to his chest, and their eyes followed the movement. “Wow, it’s hot out here, huh? Why don’t we go and chat under one of those big umbrellas over there? I’m sure it’s a little cooler.” He turned, and Laz’s jaw all but hit the sand when everyone followed King like he was a mama duck and they were his ducklings.

  “What’s happening right now?” Mason asked, scratching his head.

  King stopped beneath the umbrella next to them, and the models crowded around him. He asked them how they were, if they were staying hydrated, were they local, how long they’d been modeling. His smile never left his face, his sparkling blue eyes moving to each model as he spoke to them. They leaned in to him, smiling wide, giggling and laughing, hanging on his every word. He had them eating out of his hand.

  “I think I may be suffering from heatstroke,” Mason murmured.

  Laz stifled a laugh at Mason’s startled expression.

  “I’m so sorry about my friend,” King said sincerely. “He’s a little excitable, but he really does mean well.”

  “Oh, of course,” Lonny said, hands wrapped around King’s arm. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to go off. Low blood sugar, you know?”

  “I understand completely,” King said, patting his hand. “I hope you’re all taking good care of yourselves.” They all nodded, and when King’s smile brightened, Laz heard the dreamy sighs.

  Ace limped over to them, grumbling under his breath. He glared at Red. “I can’t believe you called King.”

  Red shrugged, amusement written all over his face. “I can’t do any heavy lifting, remember? Someone had to step in.”

  Ace thrust a hand at Mason. “How about the giant Texan in uniform and shiny badge that’s trained for this sort of situation?”

  Mason rubbed his stubbled jaw, his grin cocky. “Well, I don’t know about being trained for this particular situation. Don’t remember the academy covering any incidents involving loudmouthed smartasses swarmed by pissed-off models.”

  “Screw you too,” Ace spat out at Mason, his arms folded over his chest and his pout fierce.

  Mason and Red burst into laughter, and Laz couldn’t help but join in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. He liked being around Red and his friends.

  Maybe today was going to be a good day after all.

  Chapter 3

  “Thanks for not arresting any of my men,” King told Mason, following up the remark with a pointed look before Han stepped up to ask King something. He turned to give the young man his full attention, and Mason took the opportunity to whisper hoarsely at Red.

  “It was one time. One time!”

  Red chuckled. Poor guy. If Mason was waiting for King to forget, he’d be waiting a very, very long time. King might forgive, but he never forgot, though Red suspected King enjoyed getting a rise out of the rough-and-tough cowboy.

  The familiar rumble of Lucky’s motorcycle had them searching him out. He parked his bike next to Mason’s patrol car, and as he removed his helmet to secure it to his bike, Mason’s frown deepened.

  “I can’t believe he’s still ridin’ that damn thing. This is Florida. It’s like goddamn bumper cars out there.”

  “You forget Lucky rides his motorcycle in Miami,” Ace reminded Mason. “Where do you think our security officers go to learn defensive driving techniques?”

  “You send your security officers to train in Miami?” Mason looked horrified, making Red laugh. Despite having lived in Florida for years now, Mason continued to be baffled by its residents. He was convinced something was in the water. That, or the humidity was affecting people’s oxygen intake. Ace loved to poke and prod Mason just to hear him rant. It was highly entertaining.

  “I’m sorry, but have you tried making a left turn in Miami during rush hour?”

  “Nope. Too busy trying to figure out which of the ten cars driving with their hazard lights on during a thunderstorm actually has an emergency. I’ll give you a hint, none, because they’re not using the damn thing like they’re supposed to.”

  “Well, we do live in the state of shoplifting turkeys,” Ace said with a grin.

  “Someone shoplifted turkeys?” Laz asked, confused. He was so damned cute.

  “No, someone dressed like a turkey was arrested for shoplifting.”

  Laz opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He shook his head. “I got nothing.” The wind blew his hair into his face, the soft dark curls calling to Red, and he couldn’t help reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind Laz’s ear, earning him a sweet smile. “Thanks.”

  Red returned his smile and shoved his hands into his pockets, the urge to touch Laz overwhelming. Laz was a good half foot or so shorter than Red, which meant he had to look up to meet Red’s gaze, and for some reason Red found that endearing. He wasn’t sure why. At six-foot-three, most people had to look up when talking to him. Maybe because he liked how Laz felt tucked against his body. How well they fit together. One thing he did know was that the more time he spent around Laz, the more he wanted to bring him into his arms and kiss him.

  “Well, hello, Officer Cooper.” Lucky swaggered over, blatantly checking Mason out like he always did, and like every other time, Mason ignored him. “You are looking particularly fine today.”

  “Lucky,” Mason grumbled by way of greeting, folding his beefy arms over his chest, his bulging biceps straining against the shirt sleeves of his uniform, drawing Lucky’s hungry gaze. Red stifled a laugh and exchanged glances with Ace, who waggled his eyebrows. Mason had no idea how much he flexed when Lucky was around. For all his bitching about Lucky’s “manwhore” ways, he preened an awful lot around the guy. “When are you gonna get rid of that death machine?”

  “Why? Are you worried about me?”

  Mason let out a snort. “Yeah, I ain’t touchin’ that.”

  “You should. Who knows. You might like it.” Lucky winked at him, and Mason rolled his eyes.

  “How did you know we were here?” Red asked Lucky. It’s like his friend had an internal radar. Wherever a group of young beautiful people were gathered, Lucky was bound to be there.

  Lucky held up his phone, his grin wide. “You uploaded the video to the cloud by mistake. I would have been here sooner, but I had to pull over because I couldn’t see from the tears, I was laughing so hard.”

  Oh shit. Red cringed. “Oops.”

  “Oops?” Ace punched Red in the arm. “Thanks a lot, asshole. You know what’s going to happen now, right?”

  “I’m sorry.” He was. He really was. He wouldn’t wish what was about to happen on anyone, not even Ace. Okay, maybe sometimes he did wish it on Ace because… well, it was Ace, so he probably did something to deserve it, but this was on Red.

  Ace’s phone rang, and when he answered, he didn’t bother with a greeting. “Fuck you. The both of you.”

  Wow, that was quicker than expected.

  Ace put his phone on speaker, Jack and Joker’s loud peals of laughter filling the air. Jabbing a finger at his phone, Ace hung up and glared at Red. “This is your doing. I hope you’re happy.”

  He wasn’t. Not really. Okay, maybe a little.

  “I can’t wait to see what Jack does with the video,” Lucky said, rubbing his hands together in glee. “Ooh, this means another training video.”

  Ace spun to thrust a finger in King’s face. “Stop putting me in training videos!”

  “What’s he talking about?” Laz whispered at Red.

  Red leaned in to reply quietly so Ace wouldn’t hear him and give him another reason to yell. “Anytime someone catches Ace doing something like today and records it, King puts it in a training video on how to not do that thing.”

  “I’ll stop putting you in training videos when you stop expertly demonstrating all the wrong ways to defuse a situation,” King growled, swatting Ace’s finger away from his face. “Do that again and you’ll be featured in a new video on broken fingers and how not to get them broken.”

  Ace opened his mouth to reply, but King narrowed his eyes, his jaw muscles working and his expression daring Ace to mouth off.

  “So,” Ace said, pivoting toward Mason, “tell ’em your good news.”

  “Oh, um, I’m joining the Major Crimes Unit. I made detective.”

  “That’s fantastic! Congratulations.” Red shook Mason’s hand and patted his shoulder. Mason would make a great detective. He was honest, dedicated, and fearless. “Local?” It would be great if they could continue to work with him. Working security was always easier when you had an in with the local police. Thanks to Mason’s friendship, they had an inside man, so to speak.

  “Yep. St. John’s County Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Congratulations.” King held his hand out to Mason, who looked stunned before quickly taking it.

  Mason smiled wide. “Thanks, King.” He received a hearty pat on the back from Lucky.

  “Congratulations, bro. I knew you could do it.”

  “Wait, you knew about it?” Mason narrowed his eyes at Ace. “Really? What happened to ‘don’t worry, Coop, I won’t say a word ’til it’s official’?

  “In my defense, you should know better by now.”

  “That’s not—” Mason gave up, most likely realizing he wasn’t going to win. “Never mind. I haven’t had nearly enough caffeine to deal with you.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who dated him,” Lucky offered cheerfully.

  Mason scoffed at that. “In my defense, I was deceived into believing he was a rational adult.”