Leveled
A Saints of Denver Novella
Jay Crownover

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015

Copyright © Jennifer M Voorhees 2015

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015

Excerpt from Built © Jennifer M Voorhees 2015

Jennifer M Voorhees asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © November 2015 ISBN: 9780008116255

Version: 2015-10-14

Dedication

Dedicated to love … however it looks, however it lands, however it happens, however it finds you in all its beautiful, complicated, messy glory.

Everyone deserves to love and be loved.

Also dedicated to an adorable ginger that I happen to think is the bee’s knees and a pretty special kind of guy … looking at you, Matt Dellisola. Thanks for being my #1 man-fan … and my friend.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

—Winston Churchill

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Introduction

Chapter 1: Dominic

Chapter 2: Lando

Chapter 3: Dominic

Chapter 4: Lando

Chapter 5: Dominic

Chapter 6: Lando

Chapter 7: Dominic

Chapter 8: Lando

Chapter 9: Dominic

Chapter 10: Lando

Chapter 11: Dominic

Chapter 12: Lando

Chapter 13: Dominic

Chapter 14: Lando

Epilogue

Keep Reading

Lando and Dom’s Playlist

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Jay Crownover

About the Publisher

Introduction

Surprise! It’s Lando’s book … way earlier than planned!

So here’s the thing … I needed a bridge between the old and the new. I finished the Marked Men series and couldn’t have been prouder of my boys, or my readers, with where we left things. And then I jumped right into working on Built, (available for pre-order now) which is Sayer and Zeb’s story and was supposed to be the first book in the Saints of Denver. It’s an amazing book. I also couldn’t be more satisfied around how it kicks off the new series, but there was this need for a way to connect the two and that was where Leveled came in.

Lando and Dom are the perfect mix of old and new, the perfect combo of then and now, and with switching the publication dates around, it really gave me the opportunity to close all the doors and tie up all the story lines that were left from the Marked Men series. It felt right. It was a story that poured out and was so sexy and fun to write. These boys are a handful … together and separately … that is always a treat to bring to life on the page.

Of all our original cast in the Marked Men, none deserved closure and the choice to move on and find love like Orlando did. I was happy to give him this story and there are enough familiar faces in this book making appearances that even though this isn’t my typical kind of story, it will make all the fans of the original series really happy, and hopefully any new ones that are picking this book up as their first Jay read.

I hope you enjoy the boys as they battle their way through love and fear and just in case you are wondering, the time frame of this book and pretty much all the Saints of Denver books takes place in that space of time between the end of Asa and the epilogue … so the six months or so that lead up to the wedding … you’ll have to read the Marked Men to know what wedding I’m talking about;)

Also, before you dive in, I want to say that any liberties taken with police protocol and reinstatement after an injury are my own and done so for the sake of the story. Sometimes the reality of things makes for boring fiction, and the lines need to be bent and tweaked to get the story where it needs to be.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for the men and women that choose to protect and serve and it’s an honor to give them a voice and a story in my work.

Chapter 1 Dominic

Leveled.

Laid out.

Knocked sideways.

Flattened and collapsed.

Breathless and stunned.

I’d had the proverbial rug yanked out from under me more than once in my twenty-five years. The first time had been when my father’s partner showed up at our front door sobbing uncontrollably. Dad had taken a bullet during a routine traffic stop and in the blink of an eye I went from little boy to the man of the house. It was my job to take care of my mom and two younger sisters, so that’s what I did.

The second time was when my very best friend in the entire world tapped me to teach her how to kiss when were just about to enter high school. Royal Hastings was everything a teenage boy should want, beautiful, funny, and sweet as could be with a rack that wouldn’t quit. Kissing her should have been a treat and not a chore. I loved her something fierce, so when our lips touched and I was left wholly unaffected and completely unmoved, it forced me to stop and really consider why. That summer when I went away to a very exclusive baseball camp and met a boy named Riley who also wanted to practice kissing it became crystal clear why touching Royal did nothing for me. I liked boys, really liked them, in a much more than friendly way. Initially, the revelation had freaked me out, sent me scrambling and into denial, but I was too close to my family, too tight with Royal to keep the revelations quiet for long. And like everything else I eventually just accepted it was who I was along with being my family’s protector and Royal’s bff. Being gay was simply another facet of the man I would ultimately become. So it took a backseat, to getting out of high school and doing my late father proud and becoming a cop just like he was.

I managed to reach every goal I set out for myself. I was focused and diligent, often working harder than the next guy because I felt like I had not only a legacy to live up to but also more to prove. When I got shot in the line of duty, which led me to taking a header off of a building, which, of course, did a brutal number on my body, the uncertainty of what my future held as I healed nearly paralyzed me. Lately, I was surly, argumentative, and a general pain in the ass to be around. My family was sick of me, and it had killed me to watch Royal, who was now my partner on the force as well as still being my best friend, nose-dive into a downward spiral of guilt because she felt like my getting hurt was her fault. It was a mess. I was a mess, both physically and mentally.

I always considered my typical recovery time pretty quick when things shifted and tilted around me. I was a man that rallied and adapted to my changing circumstances with a stiff upper lip and practical sensibility. This go-around, I was scrambling. Everything was off-balance, and I couldn’t seem to find my footing, no matter how much I fought to remain sturdy and upright. It pissed me off even more that my current disorientation had little to do with the limp left over from my recently shattered leg, and my questionable future with the Denver Police Department and everything to do with the somber-faced man sitting across from me.

It had taken months to get an appointment with him, and that was with Royal pulling strings because she shared mutual friends with the man. I had to wait for an opening in his schedule that was packed because the guy was in demand across the board when it came to complicated athletic injuries. The guy was no joke when it came to fixing broken bodies and he didn’t take on just anyone as a client.

He was supposed to be a miracle worker, with magic hands and the perfect touch. He was my last hope that I could get not only my body back in working order but also my place on the force.

Orlando Frederick also happened to be a gorgeous specimen of a man and he unnerved me with the way he kept staring at me intently out of a striking pair of grayish blue eyes. He was watching me like I was a complicated math problem that he was trying to solve. I didn’t like being dissected and picked apart. I was used to being the one in the position of authority and command. So sitting there silently while my last shot at getting my life back decided if he was going to help me out or not wasn’t any fun, and it took every single shred of self-control I had not to fidget or twitch anxiously under that cool, unwavering gaze.

I decided to check him out in a different way than the detached and calculating way he seemed to be analyzing me. He was a redhead. Not a full-on orangey-red ginger, but his auburn hair leaned further on the red side than the brown, and it was cut in a fashionable style that was super short on the sides and much longer on top. He had a paler complexion than I normally found attractive, and he had freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose. Who knew freckles could be so sexy? Rusty eyebrows arched elegantly over eyes the color of a mountain stream and while all of that should have made him seem wholesome and approachable, it had the opposite effect. All of those distinct and elegant features combined made him seem way more refined and sophisticated than the men I typically found myself interested in.

He was dressed in a black polo shirt with his clinic’s logo on it and when he stood up to shake my hand, I noticed he was an inch or so taller than me but built along far leaner and longer lines. He was in great shape, I figured he would have to be, considering his job, and he made me feel bulky and clumsy as he guided the way into his office. He seemed like he was built for speed and flash, whereas I was built to take a beating and keep on going. There wasn’t a hint of sophistication or refinement about me, and I liked it that way. It made fitting in with the guys on the force slightly easier. They all knew I was gay, but I went out of my way to make it a nonissue.

After an initial question-and-answer session, where he quizzed me about the accident, the subsequent injuries and what kind of physical therapy I had been doing up to this point, he lapsed into silence, where we just spent a good five minutes staring at one another. I was waiting for him to tell me there was nothing he could do. That’s what the doctors said. That’s what the physical therapist at the hospital said. That’s what the orthopedic surgeon said after my last surgery. I was always going to have a limp, and my shoulder was always going to be stiff, making my movements stiff and hampered. Neither of those things was acceptable when you chased bad guys around for a living.

He reached out and shut the medical file in front of him and leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows arched up, and he laced his fingers together and put his index fingers under his chin.

“What exactly are you after, Mr. Voss?” His voice was smooth and modulated. I was a disaster, a bundle of nerves and anxiety, and this dude was acting like we were talking about the weather, not my entire life and everything I had ever worked my ass off for.

Defiantly I spread my legs apart and slumped back in the chair across from him, making it a point to affect a posture that was as casual as his was professional. I had on a faded DPD T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee, and both were a little baggy since I’d lost some of my bulk being laid up in the hospital after the accident. If the guy across from me was a cherry-red Ferrari, then I was a rusted-out and battered John Deere tractor in comparison.

“I want my life back, Mr. Frederick. I want to be able to move the way I used to. I want to pass the department physical so I can go back on patrol. I want to be able to walk without needing a crutch or a cane. I want to be the way I was before I got hurt.” I was asking for the impossible and I knew it. “And please call me Dom.”

He dipped his chin down a little, and the edge of his mouth tilted up in a slight grin. Damn the man was good-looking. I blew out a breath and lifted up my hands to run them over the top of my shorn hair. I was hanging on to my sanity by a thread and my unexpected reaction to the guy that I was hanging every hope I had left on wasn’t helping matters.

“All right, Dom. You can call me Lando. That’s what my friends call me.”

I felt one of my eyebrows shoot up. “Are we going to be friends?” I didn’t mean for it to come out sounding as suggestive as it did, but there was no taking it back once the words breached my lips.

His rust-colored eyebrows dipped down over his nose, and the grin on his mouth pulled downwards in a grimace that I couldn’t miss. I had a moment of panic that I might have blown any shot at securing his help by shooting off my big mouth. Nothing like making the guy uncomfortable especially since he gave zero indication that he liked boys the same way I did. As a man that rarely discussed or broadcasted his sexual orientation, I found that it made it slightly harder for me to be able to instantly gauge whether another man was interested in me the way I was in them. I always played my cards close to my chest. Being a cop was already a hard job. Being a gay cop made the job that much more challenging, so I learned early on that my personal life wasn’t a topic of conversation I wanted open for discussion. Like I said, a nonissue.

“No, Dominic, we aren’t going to be friends. In fact, you’re more than likely going to hate me. You’re going to regret walking in this office, and you’re going to think I’m the worst person in the world. But I will do my best to get you the results you are after. I’m going to work you hard and in the end you’re going to thank me for it.”

I opened my mouth to throw out another inappropriate response about him working me any way he wanted to, but I stopped myself just in time. I bit down on the tip of my tongue and nodded my head slowly.

“You think you can fix me?”

He shook his head slightly, and a hank of reddish hair flopped forward and hung in his face. I wanted to reach across the desk and move it out of those cool blue eyes.

Shit. That wasn’t good. Mr. Fancy-Pants didn’t need me lusting after him, and I didn’t need the complication of a hard-on while I worked my way back to 100 percent.

“I think you can fix you. The leg doesn’t concern me as much as the shoulder, I mean it’s still pretty bad, and when you dislocated the shoulder, you ripped all those tendons and muscles.” He shook his head in sympathy. It had hurt worse than anything I’d ever experienced, and it was refreshing that he wasn’t just writing me off as a lost cause. “I know you had reconstructive surgery and that always affects mobility and flexibility. I’m wondering if we can work to make your left hand dominant, so that you don’t have to worry about limited movement on the right side.”

I blinked at him stupidly and let out the breath I was holding. Why hadn’t that ever occurred to me? I was at the gun range two to three times a week trying to get my arm back in shape and frustrated that it was still lagging. Why hadn’t I thought to try out my left side?

I cleared my throat. “Uh, okay?” I leaned forward a little and put my hands on my knees. “Does this mean you’re going to take me on as a client?”

As I said the words, I couldn’t keep the relief and hope I was feeling from flavoring them. I wanted to jump up and grab him in a rib-crushing hug. The only thing stopping me from doing it was the fact that I wasn’t exactly in jumping-up condition yet, and I wasn’t entirely sure that if I wrapped him up in my arms I would stop at hugging. I hadn’t ever had such an overwhelming response to anyone in my life, and it was making me feel unpredictable and off-kilter. I needed to keep myself in check so he could help me, and I could get back on the job.

That was all that mattered. I needed him to save my future, not make out with me.

Something sharp glinted in his crystalline gaze as he stared at me and suddenly the vibe he was giving off went from detached and clinical to something else, something much more like the distinctly interested vibe I was pretty sure I was giving off.

A half grin pulled at his mouth again, and he moved his hand to push his hair out of his face.

“Yeah, Dominic, I’m going to take you on.”

I blinked again and felt my nostrils flare a little bit at the subtle innuendo.

“Uh, okay. Thank you.” I lifted a hand, rubbed it across the back of my neck, suddenly nervous and out of sorts for different reasons than the uncertainty surrounding my future.

“You won’t be thanking me shortly, but I’m happy to do my best to help an officer injured in the line of duty. I can’t make any promises because no matter how hard you try or how badly you want it, the body often has its own agenda and limits. Those limits will win every time, but we can try and I’m optimistic.”

Thank fuck. Finally someone besides me that was optimistic.

I curled my hands into fists on the tops of my thighs to keep from reaching out and grabbing him. I wanted to hold on to this man, this stranger, for a lot of reasons, and only a couple of those reasons had anything to do with the long-awaited words he was saying to me.

“It’s going to be a lot of work. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to be frustrating, and the results aren’t a guarantee, but I’ll be there every step of the way and whether we succeed or fail, we do it as a team. That mean you are going to have to trust me and believe that whatever I am asking of you is in your best interest.”

My hands tightened even further as I nodded numbly. I was used to be the one that took care of everything. I was used to being the man in charge, the pillar of strength and support, and even though Royal was my partner at work, I still felt like it was my duty to look out for her, not because she was a woman but because she was my closest friend and I couldn’t imagine my life without her in it. I’d never really had anyone looking out for me or my best interest before. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. So I just muttered a weak “okay” and stood to shake his hand when he rose from behind the desk.

There was more than a spark when our palms touched. There was an electrical current that blazed a fiery trail all the way up my injured arm and made my spine tingle at the contact. I held his pale gaze and searched openly for any sign that he felt it, felt something. It was unexplainable and overwhelming, but something was happening between the two of us, and I saw his skin darken slightly and his eyes widen just a fraction. He was better at hiding his response than I was, but I was trained to look for the tiniest changes in expression, and they were there on his handsome face. He was as affected by me as I was by him.

He released my hand and cleared his throat. “I’ll see you on Wednesday. We’ll go through the paces and see exactly where you’re at so we have a baseline to work from. Be ready to sweat.”

I couldn’t hold back the chuckle or the leer that crossed my face. “I don’t mind working up a good sweat.”

I could’ve sworn he blushed, but I didn’t intend to push my luck any further, so I told him I would see him Wednesday and headed for the door. I let my gaze skim over all the awards and degrees he had decorating his shelves and took in the pictures he had decorating the space. I was impressed to see him standing with his arm around Peyton Manning and another where he was with Carmelo Anthony when he still played for the Nuggets. Apparently Lando was a hockey guy, because of all the sports stuff he had on the shelves, most of it was dominated by the Avalanche, and there was more than one picture of him with Patrick Roy and with Gabriel Landeskog, proving he was a longtime fan.

Apparently in this line of work he got to live a fan boy’s dream but what really caught my eye was an obviously personal picture that stood out the most amongst the autographed and flashy memorabilia. It was a picture of a much younger Lando standing next to another boy in his late teens who was wearing a high-school football uniform. Lando was smiling ear to ear, arm wrapped around the padded shoulders of the stiff and obviously uncomfortable dark-haired boy. This wasn’t a fan excited to meet a ball player. These weren’t two buddies excited after a big win. This picture showed a young man proud of his boyfriend. There was obvious affection and pride on the picture of Lando’s face. Both boys were so young and so obviously in love, at least it seemed to me. I could also tell there was something captured in that innocent snapshot that made the dark haired boy uneasy.

Interesting. I couldn’t help but wonder if the extraordinarily handsome football player in the photograph was still in the actual picture, as in Orlando’s life currently.

All of those wayward thoughts took a backseat to the silent thrill that zapped through my entire body at what I considered irrefutable proof that Mr. Fancy-Pants did indeed like boys the same way I did, and we were about to spend a lot of time getting sweaty together on the regular.

Bring it on.

Chapter 2 Lando

A cop.

A big, burly and surly protector of the law and innocent.

A warrior and a fighter. A man that would push and push until he broke and then push some more.

A hero.

Dominic Voss was all of those things and so much more. He was the reason that taking on cases for those that served selflessly, for those that gave their lives to be the first line of defense in a world that was full of really terrible things was something I had to do. I did it in order to balance the scales between making a nice living off the rich and famous, and getting to help people that needed it. I wanted to have purpose. I wanted to help. I genuinely wanted to repair things that were broken. I wanted to help people stop hurting whenever I could.

For every injured hockey player or football player that came into my clinic, I made sure that the cost of their care and rehab would be enough to cover the rehab of at least two disabled veterans or first responders injured in the line of duty. My loyalty was to the health and well-being of the body, not to the wallet attached to it and how fat it may or may not be. Broken bodies came from all walks of life and I firmly believed if I was able to help, then I would.

The zealous need to heal, the driving desire to bring men and women back to their former glory came from not being able to save the one broken body I wanted to the most in the world. My therapist had had a field day with me after I came clean about the ugly fight and ultimatum I laid at the feet of my first and only serious boyfriend the night he died. She called it projection. She told me I was blaming myself for the accident even though Remy had been driving too fast for the rainy conditions that night, and as a result I was trying to save everyone.

Of course, I blamed myself. If we hadn’t been arguing, if I hadn’t told that stubborn and beautiful boy that enough was enough, that he needed to love me enough, love himself enough, to be honest about who he was and what we were, he would never have left that night wrapped in good-bye and silent acceptance that our relationship had run its course. I mean, I logically knew he would have left regardless of the fight or not. His twin brother called needing a ride home and whenever one Archer brother needed something, the others were right there to offer it up. Especially the twins. Rule and Remy were two sides of the same tarnished coin and there would have been no stopping him, if Rule said he needed him. But … the giant ‘but’ and uncertainty that haunted me to this day: if I hadn’t said I’d had enough, if I hadn’t told him I deserved someone that loved me fully and completely and openly the way I loved him, then maybe, just maybe he would have been paying closer attention to the road. Maybe he would have seen the semi that lost control and could have avoided the collision. And, of course, the biggest maybe of all, maybe he would still be here with me.

I had begged him to stay, to tell me that our love was enough to finally get him to come clean to his brothers, and asked him to set his best friend free from the shadows of half-truths and deception he had her trapped in, but all he could do was shake his head at me and look at me out of eyes the color of winter while he told me he couldn’t do any of it. He wasn’t ready, and he understood if that meant I had to move on to someone who was.

I wanted to hate him. To this day, all these years since the accident, I wanted to hate him, but I never could. My love for him was too big, too strong to leave room for any kind of hate, so instead I worked my ass off to heal people that were broken. Remy’s body had broken the night of the crash, but there were things inside of him, fundamental issues that he should have addressed not only with himself but also with his family well before we got to the serious stage of our relationship and definitely before we moved in together. Remy was broken on the inside and someone, namely me, should have tried to fix him before he was lost to me for good.

Thinking about broken men, I forced my attention back to the one in front of me as my assistant nudged up the speed on the treadmill Dominic was running on. We were going to see if he could last a full hour with the speed and incline increased every ten minutes. He had a mask on his face to measure his breathing, electrodes taped to his bare chest to monitor his heart rate and various other contraptions clipped to him, so I would have all the data I needed to see what kind of shape his body was in after the fall and all the surgeries to piece him back together.

We were at the halfway point and he was still keeping a pretty steady pace which I had to admit impressed the hell out of me. That shattered femur was no joke when it came to having a serious leg injury, but aside from a slight imbalance in his stride, he was weathering this first test well. He was sweaty, but his breathing seemed steady and his heart rate was better than some of the professional athletes I put through the same test.

Dominic Voss was built like an ancient Spartan. He looked like he had been crafted to be a warrior and protector since birth. Even with being laid up in the hospital while he healed, he was still impossibly broad and toned. His shoulders looked like they could hold up the weight of the world and then some and I couldn’t remember ever seeing an ass look that tight and perfect in a pair of track pants, which was saying a lot considering the bulk of my clientele got paid exorbitant amounts of money to look good in athletic gear.

I was taller than him by a few inches, but he was cut and hard in all the right places and that superb body and the intensity on the roughly hewn face attached to it were wreaking havoc on my concentration. I was supposed to be paying attention to how he responded to the tests, not to the way drops of sweat were running down the sides of his neck and across the impressive bulge of his pecs. And I really, really shouldn’t be wondering what he would do if I leaned over the edge of the treadmill and licked the salty moisture away with my tongue.

I shifted my gaze away when my assistant caught me staring and nodded when he asked if he should kick up the speed some more. I nodded but watched Dom flinch a little as he had to adjust his gait to keep up with the machine. His dark eyebrows were furrowed. His already bronze complexion looked even darker and I could hear him breathing audibly behind the mask strapped to his face. I watched as his arms pumped hard at his sides, the left one flowing free and easily like it was supposed to while the right one moved stiffly and awkwardly. I didn’t have any doubt that he could chase a bad guy down in a footrace, but I was starting to wonder if he could hold on to them when he caught up. His mobility on the left side was fluid and sure; the right side of his body looked like it should be attached to a much older man with arthritis.

He was struggling. But he wouldn’t say anything. In fact, when the treadmill went up to the highest setting, which was the last ten minutes, he would run through and not offer a single complaint. I frowned at him because I knew that that kind of exertion wasn’t good for his leg. The body had its own language and if you refused to listen to what it was telling you, then chances were you were doing more harm than good. When my assistant asked to kick it up the last time, I shook my head in the negative and saw Dom’s very dark green eyes narrow at me. I knew that if he didn’t have the plastic ventilator covering the entire lower part of his face I would be getting an earful.

I met his look with a bland one of my own. I was in charge here and the sooner he learned that, the better this partnership would be. I kept my eyes locked on his and treated him to the same slow and thorough appraisal he had given me yesterday, only I got the added benefit of getting to check him out while he was sweaty and shirtless.

After Remy died, I went a little crazy. I figured if he couldn’t love me enough to save us, to save himself, then I was obviously the problem. I figured I was nothing special, undeserving of someone as fantastic and charismatic as Remy Archer, so I went off the deep end. I slept around like it was a sport. I tried on boy after boy searching for one that would fit. I burned through men like a wild fire, endlessly searching for that special something that I’d had so briefly. I was trying to fuck away grief and guilt and there had been plenty of willing partners to help me do it.

Then one day I got a phone call out of the blue that changed everything. Remy’s best friend, a sweet little thing named Shaw Landon, now Shaw Archer, wanted me to come and meet the other Archer boys. Remy’s twin, Rule, and his older brother, Rome, were moving on in life, finding loves and lives of their own, but the way Remy went out … we all deserved more than secrets and speculation. She convinced me to come meet the entire family and like an insane person I agreed.

I had no clue how I could look Remy’s twin in the eye and not fall to pieces. How could I look at the face of the only man I ever loved on another man and not fall apart? It turned out to be pretty easy.

As much as Rule and Remy looked alike, they were worlds and worlds apart. Where Remy had been polished and shined to perfection, Rule Archer was pierced and inked up in a beautiful riot of chaos. Remy’s hair had been short and styled, Rule’s was hot pink and spiked up like a weapon. They had the same face and the same eyes, but that was where all similarity stopped. Remy had been kind, loving, almost a pushover, Rule Archer was as in your face as any man I had ever met and he obviously didn’t care if he impressed or offended.

Watching the family that loved the same man I did struggling to heal and doing it together through love and patience made me pull my head out of my ass. I stopped sleeping around, buckled down at school so I could get out and go to work, and put all my energy into helping others. I still dated here and there, but no one had that same effect on me that Remy Archer did. No one immediately touched my heart, and I was too busy and too focused on my career and making a difference in my clients’ lives to notice the loss.

That’s why my reaction to Dom was equally shocking and thrilling. When I first saw Remy and started to fall in love, it was like being surrounded by a fluffy blanket of good feelings and endless comfort. It was something I sunk into and never wanted to be without. It felt easy and as natural as breathing. The instant I laid eyes on the big, brooding cop it was like a full body assault. There was nothing easy or comfortable about it. My ears started ringing like I had been knocked upside the head. My vision narrowed so that all I could see was him, and what I saw made my blood heat up and my heart thump loudly. My chest hurt and it was hard to breathe because all I could smell was the earthy, musky scent that was far too alluring and oh so masculine, that emanated from him. My knees went slightly weak, which made me glad I was standing behind my desk, and it took me a solid three minutes before I could get my voice to work.

He was rougher-looking, more aggressive and assertive than the men I typically found attractive. He looked like he could easily take care of himself out on the streets and like he would have no trouble taking care of whoever he was with in the bedroom. Everything about him was dark and serious, from his short black hair to his intent olive-colored gaze that clearly showed his frustration and fear. His voice was deep and gravelly and the way it made my skin ripple in response had me needing to sit down and take a minute to pull myself together. I wasn’t prepared for him. My reactions were completely visceral and primitive. All the responses Dominic Voss drew from me felt like they came from someplace elemental and animalistic. It was my reaction to him that scared the holy hell out of me.

As he pushed himself to complete the test, his muscles bulged and flexed. His broad chest expanded and contracted rapidly, making the white scars that crisscrossed his shoulder and side stand out in stark relief against the rest of his tawny skin. There was more evidence of his obviously risky line of work in the jagged scar that shot over his ear and along the side of his skull and contrasted with his short, dark hair. Everything about the man seemed dangerous and brutal, which wasn’t something I should find appealing.

But I so did.

When the hour ended and the treadmill cranked down to a barely moving pace so he could cool down, he pulled the respiratory mask off and huffed out, “Not bad, right?”

He was still breathing heavily, but there was obvious pride hidden beneath his exertion.

I frowned a little bit and marked some things off on the chart I was using to track his vitals.

“How does your leg feel?”

He lifted a dark eyebrow at me and I watched as his hand went to his thigh. The corners of his mouth turned down in a scowl. “It’s fine.”

I made a noise in my throat and met his dark look with one of my own. I was stupidly attracted to the man, fascinated that after so long I had a genuine response to someone, but I had a job to do and his long term recovery was my priority, not getting him into bed.

“I think ‘fine’ is an exaggeration. I think you are pushing yourself too hard and your body is fighting back.”

He continued to rub his thigh while lines of discomfort furrowed across his forehead. I took the opportunity to watch the enticing flex of muscle and sinew that was everywhere as he moved.

“Haven’t you ever heard of playing through the pain? Yeah, it fucking hurts, everything fucking hurts, but I can’t live my life waiting for it not to hurt before I start existing again.”

I inhaled sharply and shifted my gaze back to the clipboard. I’d done my fair share of waiting for things to stop hurting before getting my life back on track and the reminder, even though he didn’t know anything about me, stung, and the fear of living and losing what mattered most nipped at all of my senses.

“If you work the muscles so hard that they never get the chance to fully repair themselves, you’ll never get your natural stride back. If you push yourself too hard, you’ll never recover from your injuries, and where you are now is the best that you’ll ever be.”

He grunted and stepped off the treadmill. “Then tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

I had to bite my tongue—hard—from spitting out the really inappropriate things I wanted to ask him to do.

Things like step closer.

Things like let me touch him all over.

Things like let me kiss everything that hurts so I could make it better.

I closed my hand around the pen I was using to make notes so tightly the plastic casing snapped.

My assistant and my new patient both looked at me curiously as I cleared my throat and awkwardly took a step away from the heat I could feel coming off of Dom’s half-naked body.

“I can give you the tools to make your body work better, but you have to listen to what it’s telling you. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t push past the pain in order to get results, but you need to be able to tell the difference between something simply hurting and something being irrevocably damaged.”

That was what condition I thought my heart was going to be in after I lost Remy, but now the twinges it was having, the twitches it was displaying at the nearness of this man made me wonder if it, like Dom, had been injured and pushed too hard to heal before it was ready.

Dom’s dark head bent down so that he was looking at the tips of his tennis shoes. He put his hands on his lean hips and I saw his wide shoulders hunch forward. He looked like he was suddenly being weighed down with the truth of how serious his situation was and that his natural-born fight may have been doing more harm than good.

“I just want to get back to how I was.”

I reached out a hand before I could stop myself and put it on his shoulder. His skin was warm, vital and throbbing with so much life under my fingertips. His head jerked up at the contact and our eyes locked. It felt like the most meaningful conversation I had ever had was happening even though no words were exchanged as we looked at each other.

“There is no going back but there is accepting your new normal.” That was one of the hardest lessons I had had to learn along the way.

Those massive shoulders went back, his army-green eyes gleamed at me, and I almost passed out when the full impact of the sexy grin he unleashed hit me.

“I’ll accept that there might not be any going back, but there is going forward and from where I’m standing what’s in front of me is anything but normal.”

He might be a bruiser and far more blunt in his manner and with his words than I was used to, but as we continued to watch each other I had to admit it was a nice change of pace to see the intensity of the things I was feeling reflected right back at me.

There was nothing subtle or hidden about Dominic Voss and that forthrightness was irresistible and a balm to the hidden parts of me that were just as broken as his body was.

Chapter 3 Dominic

I hurt all over.

It was a different hurt than the searing and relentless pain that had taken up residence in my shoulder and leg since the accident, this was more of a constant ache, a heavy throb that lived deep in all of my muscles and reminded me every waking moment that there was still work to do. I always considered myself to be in excellent shape and worked hard to make sure that I could not only keep up with the bad guys but with all the other guys on the force. After spending a week getting my ass handed to me by Lando I understood that just being able to bench-press my own weight didn’t mean shit about being fit.

He had me doing all kinds of things to build my strength back up and all kinds of things I had never done before to stretch the injured parts of my body out and build in new flexibility and elasticity I hadn’t even known I needed. I did everything he told me to do even when it felt like my joints were going to pop out of the sockets and even when it felt like my lungs were going to catch on fire and burn up. I couldn’t remember ever working as hard for anything in my life but the dull ache in my shoulder as I reached for the beer in front of me without a struggle or any kind of awkwardness reminded me that hard work and a little pain was indeed leading to results.

I still had a slight limp but it wasn’t as noticeable and the mobility that I had gained back in my shoulder was mind-blowing considering the short amount of time I had spent with the sexy trainer. He pushed me hard and I in turn grumbled at him about it and flirted with him shamelessly, in part to keep my mind off of how hard the paces were that he was putting me through, but mostly because he was gorgeous and I found the way he ran hot and cold with me fascinating.

He watched me the same way I watched him and occasionally when I tossed out an offhanded quip about our obvious attraction he would look like he was considering taking our relationship to a different level but he always shut it down and kept things coolly professional.

“So why don’t you just ask him out?” Royal was sitting across from me in the bar I had asked her to meet me at for a drink after a particularly grueling round of therapy. She’d just gotten off of patrol and I could tell by the tight pull of her mouth and the shadows in her chocolate-colored eyes that it hadn’t been a great shift. I wanted to ask her what happened, but I honestly wasn’t sure I could handle the jealousy that would claw at me when she talked about doing the only thing I wanted to do.

Royal was the best friend a guy could ever ask for and she knew me better than anyone, aside from my family. I didn’t have to go into details about the heady sexual tension that was pulsing between me and the handsome physical therapist: she could tell by all the things I wasn’t saying and by the frown that I couldn’t seem to shake.

“Because I need his help more than I need to get laid, and I don’t want to offend him or make him uncomfortable if he’s flat-out not interested.” Even if he gave off very interested vibes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

She made a face and pushed some of her long, auburn hair over her shoulder. What can I say? Redheads were my favorite, and she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. I felt like I had been keeping her safe not only from overzealous boys but also from herself since the first moment we met. She always deserved more than to be just another pretty face and she worked hard to prove it. We were kindred spirits that way. No one had ever questioned my ability to do my job, but I never wanted to give them the chance to.

“Well then, once you’re back to one hundred percent and back on the force, then you can ask him out and the worst that can happen is he can say no.”

I grunted a response, because being rejected by Lando on a personal level really did seem like the worst thing that could happen, which was insane considering the reason I had him in my life in the first place.

“I need to worry about getting my job back, not getting a date.” I lifted an eyebrow at her as she smiled a little sadly at me. “I miss it. I miss you. How’s the new partner working out?”

She sat back in the seat across from me and fiddled with the label on her drink. Her dark brown eyes shifted to the tabletop and I saw her bite on her lip. I blinked a little and scolded myself for asking something I didn’t really want to know the answer to in the first place. Life went on whether I wanted it to or not and I could tell by her almost guilty expression that Royal was enjoying being on patrol with a cop that was not me.

“It’s good. He’s good. It’s different working with someone that hasn’t known me since I was five, but I miss you, too, Dom, and I want you back at work as soon as possible.”

I copied her pose and lifted a hand to rub it over the top of my short hair in frustration. “You want me back, but you don’t want to be my partner anymore, do you?”

She flushed and tapped her fingers nervously on the side of her beer bottle. Royal was my best friend in the entire world and I would do anything for her, even if it meant letting her go.

“When you fell off that building and I thought I was watching you die right in front of me it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I couldn’t be a cop in that moment because I was so worried about you and I couldn’t be a good cop after, because I was convinced it was my fault you got hurt. I don’t think about the new guy that way. He’s my partner, I have his back, we’re a team, but I don’t feel like my life is going to be over if something bad happens to him. Does that make sense?”

I grunted again and finished the rest of my beer. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it made sense. “There are no guarantees I’m going to be deemed fit enough for duty anyways. I want you to be the best cop you can be even if it’s partnered with someone that isn’t me. I’ve always wanted what is best for you, Royal.”

She bit down on her lip even harder and lowered her head, but not before I saw a sheen of tears flash over the surface of her dark eyes. “You will be back, Dom. I know you will.”

It was depressing to think about any other option, so I changed the subject with all the subtlety of a bulldozer. “How are things going with your southern charmer?”

I wasn’t the biggest fan of Royal’s new boyfriend and it wasn’t just because the guy had a criminal record and a smile that could charm the pants off of even the most jaded of hearts. I couldn’t trust a guy who was that pretty and that smooth. I honestly believed he cared about Royal, but he had already broken her heart once and that was pretty much impossible to come back from in my book. I tried to play nice because I knew she was a goner for the guy and he was it for her, but generally I just stayed away and stayed out of their relationship. I knew Royal was hoping I would warm up to Asa eventually, but I didn’t see it happening anytime soon.

A smile made her already stunning face truly beautiful in the way only love could. “Things are good. I wasn’t sure how moving in together so quickly was going to work out, but so far so good.” She laughed a little. “Plus he always comes to get me when I lock myself out of places and never complains. That automatically makes him a keeper in my book.”

She was happy. Really, truly happy and more than that she was settling into the person she had always struggled to be. There was no more doubt about the choices she had made and the path she was on. Royal was owning the things that had always made her so special and unique and I couldn’t be happier for her.

I was about to tell her as much when a tall familiar figure suddenly cut through the crowd at the bar. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him here considering the bar I picked was close to the gym, so I didn’t have to go far after my therapy session, but it was still startling to see him outside of the serious and professional setting I was used to spending time with him in. I let my eyes roll over him as he caught sight of me and faltered a little. Instead of being dressed in his typical polo shirt and pressed slacks he had on a pair of track pants similar to mine and a white tank top. His rust-colored hair was tousled on the top of his head and if I had to wager a guess, I would bet he had just come from doing a workout of his own.

I watched the indecision flash across his pale eyes before he veered off and made his way over to where I was sitting. He stopped by the edge of the table and dipped his chin down in a slight nod. I couldn’t keep my gaze off of the smattering of freckles that dotted the tops of his strong-looking shoulders and that danced along the curve of his toned biceps.

“Hey.”

I motioned to Royal, who was looking between the two of us in an almost comical fashion, and introduced them. “Orlando Frederick, this is my best friend, Royal Hastings. She also used to be my partner on the force.”

She stuck out a hand and gave the other man a cheesy grin as he shook it. I wanted to kick her but figured that would be too obvious.

“I’m so happy you agreed to help him. We can’t wait to put him back to work.” She looked at me and blinked too-wide eyes in an overtly obvious manner. “It was so nice to meet you, but I have to run. I’m supposed to meet my man for dinner,” she slipped off the stool and winked at me. “And dessert. Keep up the good work and I’ll be in touch.”

Before I could stop her, she was gone and Lando had slipped into her empty seat. A waitress came by and he ordered a vodka and tonic and another beer for me.

“She’s adorable.” It was pretty safe as far as small talk went and Royal was one of my favorite subjects.

“She is and she knows it. She’s actually the one that got me the referral to get in and meet with you. Her boyfriend works with someone that pulled the strings.”

He crossed his arms and leaned forward a little bit on the table and I told myself not to drool or say anything stupid as I watched his muscles tense and flex with the motion.

“Rome Archer.” His eyebrows pulled down slightly and his denim-colored eyes flashed with something that looked very lost and sad. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for the Archers.”

I didn’t know most of the people that Royal had been spending time with since my injury and since getting involved with Asa, but I did know they seemed like a good group of people and they took care of my girl for me when I wasn’t able to.

I shrugged. “I don’t know him, but I’m grateful he put in a good word for me.”

Lando nodded and we lapsed into an awkward silence while we waited for the drinks to arrive. When the waitress put the rocks glass down in front of him, he ran a finger around the rim of it and looked at me from under his eyelashes.

“I’m not really much of a drinker, but it’s been a long week.” I didn’t know him well, but I could distinctly hear a hint of accusation in his tone.

I picked up my beer and narrowed my eyes at him. “Why is that?” I was the one with the sore muscles and burning tendons. I should be the one drinking for the strength to keep going, not him.

He picked his drink up and finished it all in one healthy swallow. He set the rocks glass down and stood up to dig his wallet out of his pocket. He tossed some money on the table and took a few steps so that he was standing at my elbow. I looked up at him as he bent his head down just enough that he could speak directly into my ear. A full body shiver worked its way across my skin as his voice rasped, “You are distractingly good-looking, Dominic, but I don’t date my clients, and I don’t think I could ever get involved with a cop.”

I was too stunned to react for a moment and in those few seconds he managed to push away from the table and make his way towards the door. By the time I managed to fumble my own wallet out of my back pocket and pay for my own drinks, he was out the door, but I was used to chasing down my prey even if I wasn’t as fast as I used to be. I caught up to him in the parking lot of the clinic as he was approaching a sleek-looking sports car.

I put a hand on his shoulder and was already tearing into him before he turned fully around to face me.

“I don’t know what I find more insulting, the fact that you just assume I want to date you or the fact that I’m a cop somehow makes me beneath you. You have a lot of nerve Mr. Fancy-Pants, a lot of nerve and a lot of ego.”

I was pissed and offended. I was also hurt and a little bit embarrassed. I didn’t like anything about it. Sure the guy was ridiculously attractive and I had never been drawn to anyone the way I was instantly drawn to him, but that didn’t mean I was asking him to move in together and get married. A little harmless flirting and some innocent eye-fucking shouldn’t have landed me in the shame corner and I wanted him to know it. I was opening my mouth to finish giving him a piece of my mind when I was cut off by hard hands on either of my shoulders pushing me backwards into the side of the car behind me.

I grunted at the contact and at the surprise of chilly metal against my back while my front was suddenly pressed all along a rigid and hard male body.

He might look distinguished and fancy, but he kissed rough and dirty. His hands were hard on my shoulders as he leaned into me and held me in place while his mouth moved over mine. I put a hand on the lean curve of his waist and met him move for move because I’d kissed plenty of boys in my time but never one that made my head spin to the point that it made me forget where I was.

His lips were soft, but there was hard passion behind them. He kissed me like he was angry that he wanted to kiss me, but I wasn’t going to complain about being handled like that. I liked the abrasion, liked the almost desperate way he held on to me, and I liked that he felt as solid and heavy as I did as we continued to press closer and closer together. I offered zero resistance when the tip of his tongue brushed across the seam of my lips. I let him in, in fact, I couldn’t wait to let him in and get him closer. I tugged on his waist until we were hip to hip and I felt him take in the heated gasp that escaped when I felt his arousal press against my own.

His skin was soft, almost baby smooth as our faces touched, and I found the contrast between that softness and the hardness of the rest of him alluring and exciting. His muscles were tense and hard, but they felt like they were encased in velvet and silk. I wanted to know if the rest of him felt the same way.

One of his hands slid around the back of my skull and he pulled me even closer still as he continued to devour my mouth like it was the only opportunity he was ever going to have to act on his baser impulses. I was getting ready to put a hand under the hem of his tank that had ridden up just a little over a set of abs that I wanted to touch and was slightly envious of when a loud beep from one of the cars next to us startled us apart.

We were both breathing heavy and watched each other with wary eyes as we put some space between us. Lando blew out a deep breath and shoved both of his hands through his already messy hair. His pale eyes were serious as he told me, “You won’t be my client forever, Dom, but you will be a cop for the foreseeable future. I already lost someone I cared about and I barely came back from the pain of that. I’m not a strong enough man to care about someone that purposely puts themselves at risk … even if you are more than tempting.”

I leaned back against the car he had just ravaged me against and watched him silently while he slipped behind the wheel of his sports car and pulled out of the spot.

Huh … that was interesting, to say the least, and even though we had only known each other for a week, he had to know I was the kind of guy that thrived on a challenge and on overcoming obstacles. Besides, our entire relationship was based on healing and it was starting to look like I wasn’t the only one with wounds that needed some attention.

Chapter 4 Lando

I was hoping the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the treadmill and sound of weights clanking together would be enough to drown out the endless lecture about common sense and impulse control I had been giving myself since I lost my damn mind and kissed Dom. The “what were you thinking” was colliding against the “when can we do that again and again and again” in a symphony of noise and emotion that was so loud and overwhelming I just wanted to hide from it all.

I’d always been allowed to love openly and physically within my family and group of friends. There wasn’t so much as a batted eye the first time I brought a boyfriend home, and it wasn’t long into my relationship with Remy that my mom had started dropping hints about marriage and kids even though neither one of us was old enough to consider either of those things at the time. I’d never been shy about expressing my interest or availability to someone that I was attracted to, but I’d also never been compelled to attack a man with my mouth before either.

When I met Remy, it was love at first sight. I had started seeing forever and a life together before we even shared our first kiss. With Dom, I couldn’t see anything but those sharp army-green eyes and my own rampaging lust shining back at me. Instant attraction could be fun and a nice boost to the ego, but whatever was happening between the two of us felt bigger than that. It felt big enough to rival the fear that always lingered just under the surface whenever I started to develop feelings for someone. It felt like it had a life of its own and couldn’t be controlled by either my rules or my sense of self-preservation and that terrified me. Not to mention the fact I had mauled the guy knowing good and well that I was going to have to see him as soon as the weekend was over. I was both horrified and frustrated that it was a kiss I was going to have to ignore … even though it was the best kiss I could remember having in a really, really long time.

Annoyed at the kick in my gut as I replayed that kiss over and over again I glanced to my side at the woman running on the treadmill next to me. I didn’t immediately recognize her, which meant she must be pretty new to the gym and she seemed to be thinking just as hard as she scowled and muttered under her breath while she ran.

She was tall and had a perfectly sleek blond ponytail that bobbed on the top of her head as she moved. Everything she was wearing was monochrome and pretty boring considering she had a body that was designed to make straight men do really stupid things. She was stunning and if I liked girls, she would probably be the type that caught my eye. Hell, I didn’t like girls like that and she still caught my attention. I must have been staring because she turned her head and stormy blue eyes locked on mine. I lifted an eyebrow at her because even though she was running at a nice clip she wasn’t breathing hard or dripping with sweat. I was impressed.

She stumbled a little when our eyes locked and blushed charmingly as I grinned at her. I hit the controls on the treadmill to slow the belt down to a light jog.

“Are you a new member?” The gym was below the clinic and while I typically used the equipment upstairs, I thought the other people and noise would distract me from my wayward thoughts and rebelling libido.

She slowed her machine down as well and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Not really. I usually come in before work during the week or try and catch a yoga class after a full day in court.” She shrugged again. “I’m a lawyer. I can use all the stress relief I can get plus I haven’t been sleeping well, so …” She trailed off and blushed again like she was surprised she had said so much to a total stranger.

“Ahhh … I’m usually with clients in the morning and I only do yoga with them if I think it will help with their therapy regimen. I actually own the gym and the rehabilitation clinic with a few business partners. Orlando Frederick.” I stuck out my hand but had to wait until she shut the machine all the way off before she would take it.

“I’m a klutz. I would take us both down if I tried to shake while moving. Sayer Cole.”

I grinned at her when she told me her name. “A very pretty name for a very pretty lady.”

She blinked at me like she didn’t understand the words I was using and then tilted her head to the side and looked at me consideringly. “Yours is kind of unusual. I’m not sure if it’s the red hair or not, but you really don’t look like an Orlando.”

I turned my machine off as well and let her get away with changing the subject in a very lawyerly way. “I know. I think my folks should have gone with Harry so I could cash in, on the whole royal ginger thing, but no. My dad was a recruiter for a few different sports teams when I was younger, so we moved around a lot. All of us kids have names of cities. Mom won’t confirm or deny that’s where we were conceived, but I have a brother named Austin and a sister named Phoenix. Most people just call me, Lando.”

I waited a second to see if she would elaborate on her own interesting moniker but when she just continued to watch me without saying anything we lapsed into an awkward silence. I was going to tell her it was nice to meet her and tell her I hoped she enjoyed the facilities when she suddenly shook her head and gave me a rueful grin.

“It doesn’t matter how fast or how long I run I can’t seem to get away from the things chasing me, but it was nice to have a little company while I tried.”

I crossed my arms on the safety bar and leaned towards her. “I’m kind of in the same boat.” I arched both my eyebrows up. “Boy trouble?”

I couldn’t explain why I was pressing her, but there was something about her that tugged at me. She seemed very put together, almost polished and practiced in a way that made her seem untouchable, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her bright blue eyes that was begging for any kind of basic human connection.

She shook her head slowly and reached for a bottle of water that was by her feet. “Not a boy at all. A man. A man that is in all ways of the wrong kind of man, but that doesn’t matter because I still have a crush on him.” She made a face. “A crush. I’ve never had a crush on anyone in my entire life and I have no idea what to do with it, or with him.”

She sounded baffled and adorable. I just wanted to hug her and ask her if she needed a friend. I ran my hands over my damp hair because I wasn’t blessed with ice water in my veins like my new companion and did sweat when I ran.

“In my experience as long as he treats you right and appreciates you then no man is the wrong kind of man.” I winced as my own advice kicked me in the balls.

A man that put himself in danger and risked his life because he was a protector, a hero, well, that wasn’t exactly the wrong kind of man, but it was wrong for me because I was unable to get my head around caring about someone and losing them again. My heart just wasn’t up for it even if the rest of me was all on board.

She must have seen the battle waging inside of me on my face because she reached out a hand and put it on my shoulder and squeezed. She didn’t come off as the touchy-feely type, so my distress must have been pretty evident to this beautiful stranger.

“You’re right. He’s not the wrong kind of man at all, but that doesn’t keep me from being the wrong kind of woman.” She let her hand fall and took a step back. “It was really lovely to meet you, Lando. I hope I get to see you around again.” It was her turn to lift her eyebrows up at me. “And I hope you figure out your boy trouble, because the chances I’ll figure out mine are slim to none.”

She walked away and I was going to head over to the free weights and see if the clanking of metal on metal could get my head out of Dom’s pants and off his lips when my phone rang from the pocket of my track pants. I knew it was my mom by the ringtone and if I let it go to voicemail, she would more than likely show up at the gym to check on me. I was close to my entire family, so it wasn’t often that I didn’t check in or keep them updated on what was happening in my life. Ever since Dominic Voss walked into my office just a few short days ago, I hadn’t been doing anything I normally did.

I touched the screen and put the phone to my ear and changed directions so I could head up to my office and talk to her without the noise in the background.

“Hey, Ma. What’s up?”

“Your father and I got a new financial advisor to handle our retirement since your dad is set on buying an RV and touring the world. He’s handsome and single. I gave him your number.”

I sighed and flopped down in my chair. I loved my mom, but she was desperate for me to finally settle down and be happy. She had a habit of handing my phone number out to any male she encountered that had a good job, was reasonably attractive and single. She didn’t bother vetting if they were gay or not, which had led to more than one awkward conversation my father had to smooth over on her behalf.

“Ma.” I rubbed a hand over my face and blurted out, “I met someone.” I immediately wanted to take it back as she squealed into my ear, but I had always been open and honest with her and it was like the truth was just looking for an excuse to escape from somewhere deep down inside of me.

She was jabbering so fast and at such a high-pitched octave I could barely understand her. “What’s his name? What’s he look like? What’s he do for a living? Is he close with his family? How long have you been seeing him?”

I let the rapid-fire questions bombard me until she wore herself out. I sighed and told her, “He’s a client, Ma, and a cop.”

She went really quiet on the other end of the phone and then whispered so softly that I almost didn’t hear her, “Oh, Lando …”

I rubbed my temples and grunted. “I know, Ma. Believe me I know. The reason he came to see me is because he was already hurt in the line of duty. He got shot and fell off of a building.” Just saying the words made me tense up. Dom was so lucky to be alive, and I couldn’t fathom how hard he was working to put himself back in the line of fire after a close call like that.

She was quiet for another drawn out minute before solemnly asking me, “Are you sure you can handle being with someone in such a high-risk field? After Remy …” she trailed off again and I had to fight the urge to bang my forehead on the edge of my desk.

“I know how I was after Remy, Ma. I’m still that way minus the sleeping around. I think I’ll always be that way. I don’t think being with this guy is an option for me. First of all he’s a client, so anything romantic between us is pretty goddamn unprofessional, and secondly I honestly don’t think I’m strong enough to get involved with someone that I could very well lose.”

She made a little noise and I could almost see her lifting her hand to her mouth. She cleared her throat and when she spoke, she sounded like the woman who had always told me to be proud of who I was and to chase after whatever dream I had. “You’ve never been afraid of anything in your life, Orlando. Fear was the biggest issue in your relationship with Remy. It controlled everything that sweet boy did and we all hated to watch him live like that. It broke your heart time and time again. We taught you better than to let fear rule you and maybe I forgot that because you scared me when Remy died. I let my fear take over. You lost so much of yourself when you lost that boy, and maybe I’ve been scared to see you go back there, but that’s not who you are and that’s not who we are. You’ve never been afraid to love anyone. Don’t start now.”

I gave her a dry little chuckle and leaned back in the chair so that I could stare up at the ceiling. “A little early to be talking about love, Ma.”

But I did like him. I liked that he was effortlessly charismatic and brash. I liked that he was determined and driven in the way only someone with real dedication could be. I liked that he didn’t bother to hide his attraction to me but kept himself in check and in control because I obviously couldn’t be trusted to. I liked that he could give just as good as he got and that he felt hot and hard when he was pressed against me. And I liked that I liked him. It had been way too long since I found anyone interesting enough to engage with and I liked the pop and sizzle of desire that worked under my skin and made my blood heat when I was around him. That was new.

Of course, I wanted Remy and a few of the men that had come after but none of them blindsided me with lust. No one made me feel like I was being buried under my own hunger and scrambling to fight my way through thick and slippery passion. I couldn’t get my footing or find anything to hold on to, which meant I was falling. I didn’t like the feeling one bit.

“You haven’t mentioned a man in a long time, kiddo. Regardless if this one is a client or not, that means something. I think you owe it to yourself to figure out what that something is, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I gotta go. Tell Dad that if he gets an RV, I get to borrow it to go camping.”

She laughed. “Will do. Figure out what you’re gonna do about the cop and then bring him for dinner. I get tired of harassing your sister and brother about my future grandchildren.”

I rolled my eyes and told her I would call her later.

I had no clue what I was going to do about the hot cop, but I needed to figure it out fast because I didn’t want to make a fool of myself when he showed up for his therapy session on Monday. I’d already mauled him with my mouth; if I didn’t get a handle on my reaction to him there was a very good chance I could be inspired to attack him with the rest of my body as well. Something told me Dom wouldn’t complain about being ravaged, but my mom was right. There was something more there, something that hadn’t been there for a very long time and I owed it to myself and to Dominic to be man enough to face it and find out what that something was, if only I could reach around the walls of fear to get at it.

Chapter 5 Dominic

Lando was angry at me and doing a piss-poor job of hiding it. Not that I could blame him.

I had apparently undone all the positive improvement he had put into my body over the previous week by not knowing when enough was enough. I wanted to pretend like I was still the guy that could do everything, could still be the one everyone counted on when they needed a strong back and some good old-fashioned sweat, but I wasn’t. After helping my youngest sister, Ari, move into her very first apartment on Saturday, I should have told Royal no when she asked if I wanted to go hiking with her on Sunday. As a result of the overuse my thigh felt like it was made of Jell-O and I was pretty sure that there was a torn muscle or strained tendon somewhere in my shoulder. I was back to hurting like everything inside of me was on fire and even the simplest of movements made me wince.

Lando was watching me with a furious scowl on his handsome face. I wanted to tell him the fierce expression was ruined by his freckles, but I didn’t think he was in the mood to flirt. He looked like he wanted to knock me around and yell at me.

“Come on. It was my little sister. I couldn’t exactly tell her no when she asked for my help. I practically raised her when my dad died when we were younger. I’ve always been her go-to guy. I didn’t think it would hurt anything.”

His pale eyes narrowed just a fraction at me. “You were wrong. There isn’t any point in trying to put you through your set routine today. You can’t even lift that twenty-pound dumbbell up past your waist.”

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