After he poured his pal a mug, Matt scrubbed a palm down his face. “What I’m about to tell you cannot be repeated.”

  “Sure. Lay it on me. You know I’m solid.”

  “That’s why I called you.” The truth was, Ethan might be better suited for this job since the new hotshot knew a thing or two about taking down powerful crime families, but Matt was still feeling the guy out. He hadn’t proven yet that he gave a shit about anyone but himself. And rumor had it that he fucked anything in a skirt. “Madison is in my bedroom, asleep. She showed up out of the blue last night.”

  “All the way from DC? No shit?” Nash gaped. “Did you two—”

  “No. She fled her husband, who’s trying to kill her. And if they haven’t yet, the family will come after her, too.”

  Matt gave his buddy the basics, leaving out Brent Westbrook’s murder and the intimate details of Madison’s marriage. The less sensitive information Nash had, the better for him. Guarding her the next couple of days would be dangerous enough.

  “So I need you to keep Madison safe long enough for me to get a plan in motion,” he finished.

  “Sure. The bosses are expecting me to hold down the fort today, so I’ll have to talk to them…”

  He’d forgotten that Nash had drawn the short straw over this Fourth of July holiday. Everyone else was on vacation or in the field. “I’ll take care of it. For now, let’s strategize about a safe location.”

  “Okay, but… Are you objective enough for any of this? You never got over Madison, and she’s already fucking with your head again.”

  Damn Nash for being observant. “I’ll do it a lot better if I know she’s safe.”

  “Sure.” But Nash clearly wasn’t convinced. “Where do you want me to take her? Normally, I’d say my brother’s place, but—”

  “No. These people won’t think twice about offing everyone there and chalking up their deaths, even your nephews’, to collateral damage.”

  “You’re right.”

  They batted around a few more ideas, but the organization’s safe houses were full, and nothing else felt workable. Matt tried not to take his frustration out on Nash. His buddy was doing his best.

  Finally, he swiped a hand down his face. “Take her back to your place for now. I’ve got an idea, but I need some time.” And his balls. This strategy hinged on approaching Jack Cole, who co-owned EM’s Security’s sister company, Oracle. He was an all-around badass and mean motherfucker. Matt didn’t know the crafty Cajun well, so asking for his help was a risk. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

  “All right. Just make it quick. Since my apartment is close to the university, the building is great for parties…not so much for security.”

  “Got it. Go take that shower. I’ll wake Madison and get her ready.”

  Nash nodded as he headed for the guest bathroom. Then he turned back. “Have you asked yourself what you’re going to do about her once you’ve made her safe for good?”

  “If I can make her safe,” Matt corrected. “I’m not assuming anything.”

  “All right, if. But have you considered what’s next if you’re able to ensure her future isn’t merely as target practice for a hired gun’s bullet or a tragic ‘suicide’? Will you finally make her yours?”

  “I don’t see how. We ended three years ago.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Matt shot him a scowl. Just because he and Madison had feelings didn’t mean they could overcome the past enough to have a future. Hell, he wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to tie herself down again. “Go fucking shower. We’re burning precious time.”

  “All right. But if you don’t try with her, I think you’ll be making a huge mistake.” Nash disappeared into the guest bath with a shrug, like he knew he was right but wasn’t going to push the issue.

  Matt marched into his bedroom, teeth gritted. The urge to hit something, preferably Nash’s face, surged.

  Instead, he dropped a hand to Madison’s naked shoulder, doing his damnedest not to notice how soft she was or how hard she made him. “Hey, time to wake up.”

  Her lashes fluttered open. She gasped and vaulted upright, clutching the sheet to her chest as she whirled to face him. “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine,” he assured. “News was quiet overnight. Still no word in the press about you being gone.”

  “No one will say anything until Friday, when Brent’s funeral is held. Then they’ll explain away my absence with a sudden illness, probably with a hint of an impending pregnancy announcement. That tactic is a favorite of Agatha’s,” she said of the senator’s wife.

  Matt swallowed his rage. “Her ruse will buy us time and let me do some work while you stay on the down-low. Your clothes are clean. Your backpack is in the corner. And Nash is here for you.”

  “Already?” She reared back.

  “It would be less risky if you two got out before sunrise.”

  Swallowing, she nodded. “So that’s it, then?”

  “What else is there, Madison? What did you expect?”

  She opened her mouth and closed it again. Had she let him touch her last night because she still had feelings for him? Or had she merely needed human contact? Maybe she knew he was fucked up about them parting and had given him her pleasure as some sort of consolation prize? Matt didn’t have time to guess. And it didn’t matter. If letting her think he was an unfeeling prick helped her get to safety sooner, he’d play his part.

  “Nothing, I guess. Thank you for everything. I’ve imposed too long. I’ll be out of your hair in ten minutes. Tell Nash not to worry about me.” Madison rose from the bed stark naked, like she didn’t care if he saw her in all her glory, then grabbed her clothes and her backpack before heading for his bathroom.

  Matt hustled after her and grabbed her arm, trying not to stare at every tempting inch. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going without him?”

  “It’s not your issue, so it’s none of your business. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You’re out of your league.”

  “I got all the way to Louisiana without your help.”

  He tightened his grip. “We talked this through last night.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather not drag you or Nash through my problems. I don’t need anyone’s death on my conscience.”

  “This is about us.”

  “All right, it is. Every time I’m with you, you strip me absolutely bare.” She demonstrated by throwing her clothes on the bed and standing in front of him, completely exposed, hands on hips. “You push and demand and make me lose my head until I surrender everything—my body, my pride, and my will—to you.”

  Matt winced. When he was with her, he couldn’t seem to help himself. But hurting her ripped him to shreds. “Madison, I—”

  “No. I’m not done. Then after I’ve dropped all my barriers, you downshift, back off, and remind me I mean nothing to you. Maybe it’s time I did the same.”

  As if she hadn’t made him feel like trash three years ago? “Don’t put yourself at risk to spite me.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do ever again.” She swerved around him to reach for her clothes.

  Matt sidestepped to block her. “Stop being stubborn and think with your head. How much do you know about personal security? Who will keep you safe if Todd or the senator’s goons come after you? You don’t even have a gun. I promise you, they will. And they’ll know damn well how to use it.”

  She said nothing for a long moment before something bitter and angry crossed her face. “Shut up.”

  “Life-or-death situations aren’t the time to worry about your heart.”

  “Fine. You’re right. But at least I have one.” With that, she shoved him aside, retrieved her clothes, and slammed into his bathroom.

  Goddamn it, what a mess. He stared at the closed door and bit back the urge to prove she wasn’t the only one with twisted feelings and scars. But they didn’t have time, especially when they didn’t have a future.

  “The sun will be up in less than thirty minutes. You need to have your hair under your hat and be wearing something that hides your curves.”

  He didn’t wait for her reply, just left to find Nash, who loitered in the hall, grimacing like he’d heard most of their exchange. The pity on his face crawled on Matt’s last nerve. “Drive your truck around back. Have Madison lie in the back seat. Don’t let her up until you get to your place. Make her keep her head down all the way to your door.”

  “I know the drill.” He cocked his head. “Why don’t you resolve this shit before you let her go? Tell her how you feel.”

  Matt didn’t have that luxury. “You worry about guarding her while I come up with a long-term arrangement to keep her safe. And when we touch base, don’t say anything critical. There’s a chance our communications will be surveilled.”

  “Dude, stop telling me shit I know.”

  Matt blew out a breath. It was nearly time for Madison to leave, and he felt so fucking agitated. He wouldn’t be able to glance across the room and assure himself she was all right. Now that he knew she had vindictive assholes and killers after her, how would he handle that without losing his goddamn mind? Yes, he’d eventually learned to deal with Madison living in DC with that prick, Todd. But the thought of a world without her at all—because he hadn’t managed to keep her safe—tore him up.

  “All right, but the rules that applied to Casey don’t apply to Madison. You get me? You don’t fucking touch her.”

  “Wow. Every time you’re near this woman, you lose your mind. But go ahead; don’t do a fucking thing about it. I think you’re making a mistake, but that’s your problem. Mine is to keep Madison safe. And for the record, if she wants me to touch her, whether or not I do isn’t your decision.” Nash glanced over his shoulder. “You ready?”

  Matt whirled to find Madison exiting his bedroom, backpack slung over one shoulder. A mulish twist of her mouth told him she held back tears. She’d tucked her dark braids under a nondescript cap and tossed on a pair of sunglasses. Her nose was suspiciously red. The sight kicked him in the gut.

  “Let’s go.” She shouldered her way past Matt, not once looking his way.

  “I’ll get the truck. Meet me by the back door,” Nash instructed.

  When the big guy disappeared out the front and loped toward his truck, Matt caught up to Madison before she slipped out of the house. “Lie low. Don’t call anyone. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything. You’ll be okay.”

  He didn’t know whether he was reassuring her or himself more.

  “Thank you for last night,” she said stiffly. “I wish things could have…ended differently.”

  When she reached for the handle of the back door, something in Matt snapped. This might really be the last time he ever saw her. Even if he was angry with Madison for marrying Todd, even if they had no prayer of spending another weekend—much less their tomorrows—together, that reality nearly killed him.

  He grabbed her arm, spun her to face him, and flattened her against the wall. It was stupid, impulsive, wrong, and destructive, but he couldn’t stop himself from whispering against her lips, “Me, too. Goddamn it.”

  Matt plastered his body against hers and captured her lips. As the clock ticked, he didn’t have time to ease in, rediscover Madison bit by bit, or indulge in a leisurely exploration of her mouth. He ate at her hungrily, desperately, trying to inhale every nuance of her and imprint each detail to memory.

  The taste of her was a sweetness he’d never forget. Every moment they touched, his blood rushed hot through his veins, pumping through his thudding heart and settling hot and heavy in his cock. Madison hesitated for the briefest of moments before she opened to him with a cry, clutching his shoulders and losing herself. She swayed against him, whimpering as if she’d die without him. He cradled her face, feeling hot tears spill down her cheeks.

  At the slam of Nash’s truck door, she pushed him away, breaths heavy. She blinked up at him for a naked second like he was her everything. Heartbreak poured across her expression as she pushed a hand to his chest. “Goodbye.”

  Then she was out the door—and out of his life.

  By two o’clock that afternoon, the air was as still and humid as the fat ass of a pig lazing in the sun. And everyone Matt needed to talk to was having a fucking barbecue to celebrate the holiday, along with a “family” birthday bash for Luc and Alyssa Traverson’s daughter, Chloe, who was turning eight.

  After squaring his cowboy hat on his head, he pushed his way from the house to the backyard and took in the brisket smoking, the tunes playing, the kids romping, and the beers chilling. There was no place he wanted to be at less than a celebration with happy couples and their adorable kids. It reminded him of what he didn’t have—and never would.

  The famous chef and his drop-dead gorgeous wife stood in the center of the group, watching their little pale-haired princess in her birthday crown. Beside them, Luc’s cousin, Deke Trenton, who co-owned Oracle Security, hung close to his business partner, Jack Cole. Deke’s and Jack’s wives stood with their heads bent close—hair in two different shades of red—smiling in delight as they watched Chloe unwrap another gift.

  Nearby stood Matt’s bosses and the owners of EM Security Management, Logan and Hunter Edgington, along with their stepbrother, Joaquin Muñoz. There was nothing weirder to Matt than seeing the trio of badasses he worked for—who could defuse a bomb as easily as they slit an enemy combatant’s throat—schlepping baby equipment and reining in little curtain climbers.

  Hunter wrangled his squirmy two-year-old, Ledger, while scolding his older boy, Phoenix, about trying to force-feed the other kids bugs. Logan’s twins, Mandy and Macy, were a few months older than their insect-wielding cousin, but they were definitely louder, squealing bloody murder as they ran. Logan bent to calm them, a backpack full of plushies and Barbies falling off one shoulder, while his very pregnant wife, Tara, looked on with mirth. Joaquin had been late to the marriage-and-babies party, but he and his former ballerina bride, Bailey, seemed to be making up for lost time since he held his toddler, Eduardo, by the hand and wore an infant carrier across his chest with his newborn, Yasmin.

  Around them, all the other kids ran and splashed and hollered in barely organized pandemonium. Deke and Kimber’s oldest, Cal, stood head and shoulders taller than the birthday girl and glared at the oldest of Tyler and Delaney Murphy’s five-boy brood. Seth, who had inherited his dad’s green eyes and the Murphy chin, glared right back.

  The girl-posse, as the dads had dubbed them, were trying to convince the slightly younger boys that having a tea party would be great fun. Despite being four, the oldest of the little feminine dynamos, Dulce, proved she was a Santiago through and through by skillfully coaxing Blake Murphy, Ryker Walker, Knox Garrett, and Wilder Scott to sit at the plastic table. Lacey Cole plopped down on a hose reel next to them, then motioned Knox’s older sister, Hallie—who was Tessa’s spitting image—onto her lap and pretended to pour tea. Sierra Trenton smiled as she dished up mud pies.

  From the pool, fast friends Brice Cole and Chase Murphy watched the scene, looking somewhere between disgusted and intrigued.

  “Welcome!” Hunter finally noticed him and handed Ledger off to his wife, Kata, before he approached with a grin. “It’s Luc’s place, but since he’s busy, I’ll play host. What can I get you? Food should be ready in an hour or so, but there are chips and dips and beers—”

  “I didn’t come to party. I came to talk.”

  Hunter searched Matt’s face, then nodded. “Need anyone else on this?”

  “Jack Cole.”

  His boss froze. “It’s serious?”

  “As fuck.”

  Hunter instantly switched to warrior mode and pointed across the yard. “Meet us in that gazebo. I’ll grab Jack. We’ll be there in five.”

  Matt nodded. “Hurry. Every minute counts.”

  “Roger that.” Then Hunter jogged back to the gathering.

  Sighing, Matt headed across the yard, waving at the guys on his team enjoying the good time. One-Mile and Brea were holding hands and playing peekaboo with their younger son, Kylen, while chatting with Zy and Tessa, who still looked madly in love. Trees towered over Laila like he stood guard while she sat on the grass, playing blocks with their middle son, Magnus, who wasn’t yet two, while she breastfed her infant, Landon. And holy shit, the way she stroked her belly made Matt wonder if she was pregnant again.

  He shook his head. Between Oracle and EM, these people had procreated enough to start a daycare. Or a small army. If he had any future with Madison, he’d give her a tall glass of whatever water they were drinking. But he didn’t. Hell, he’d probably never spend another night with her. Even if she managed to stay alive and get free of the Pershings, what did they have left?

  “Hey, man. You good?” one of the Oracle operators, Trevor Forsythe, called from the deep end of the pool, far from the kids.

  “You going to dive in so we can drown your ass?” quipped Ethan Garrison, the cocky bastard.

  “How about you fuck off?” He did his best to grin.

  Ethan howled in laughter.

  “Language!” Several of the moms barked at once.

  “Sorry,” Matt muttered as he strode forward.

  Crashed on a lounger in the shade, one of the Oracle guys everyone called Ghost hung out, as he always seemed to, alone. Matt waved. The guy tipped his chin in return, then closed his eyes and tuned everyone out.

  Thankfully, by the time Matt made it across the substantial yard to the gazebo and turned, Hunter and Jack were bearing down on him, Logan, Deke, and Joaquin in tow, too.

  “What’s up?” the eldest Edgington asked.

  Matt gritted his teeth at Hunter. “I didn’t ask for a crowd.”

  “If you say something to me, you say it to Logan and Joaquin.”

  “And if you say something to me, mon ami, you say it to Deke,” Jack cut in.

  Matt got that, but… “The fewer people who know, the better.”