by Laura Wright
Teagan was a large, heavily muscled man with dark caramel skin, and golden eyes that he’d inherited from his Polynesian mother. He kept his hair shaved close to his skull, and as usual was dressed in a pair of camo pants and shit-kickers. He had an aggressive vibe that was only emphasized by the tight T-shirt that left his arms bare to reveal the numerous tattoos.
Lucas St. Clair, on the other hand, was wearing a thousand-dollar suit that was tailored to perfectly fit his lean body. His glossy black hair was smoothed away from his chiseled face that he’d been told could easily grace the covers of fashion magazines. As if he gave a shit.
His eyes were so dark they looked black. It wasn’t until he was in the sunlight that it became obvious they were a deep, indigo blue.
Most assumed he was the less dangerous of the two men.
They’d be wrong.
But while the girls became increasingly more obvious in their attempts to attract their attention, neither man glanced in their direction.
Teagan because he already had a flock of women who included supermodels and two famous actresses.
And Lucas because… He grimaced.
To be honest, he wasn’t sure why. He only knew that his interest in women hadn’t been the same since he’d crawled out of that hellhole in Afghanistan. Not unless he counted the hours he spent brooding on one woman in particular.
The one who got away.
Lucas gave a sharp shake of his head, reaching for his shot of tequila. It slid down his throat like liquid fire, burning away the past.
Nothing like a twelve-year-old vintage to ease the pain.
Lucas glanced toward his companion’s empty glass.
“Another round?” he asked.
“Sure.” Teagan waited for Lucas to nod toward the bartender, who was washing glasses, at the same time keeping a sharp eye on his few customers. “I assume you’re picking up the tab?”
Lucas cocked a brow. “Why do I always have to pick up the tab?”
“You’re the one with the trust fund, amigo, not me,” Teagan said with a shrug. “The only thing my father ever gave me was a concussion and an intimate knowledge of the Texas penal system.”
Lucas snorted. It was common knowledge that Lucas would beg in the streets before he would touch a penny of the St. Clair fortune. Just as they all knew that Teagan had risen above his abusive background, and temporary housing in the penitentiary, to become a successful businessman. The younger man not only joined ARES, but he owned a mechanic shop that catered to a high-end clientele who had more money than sense when it came to their precious sports cars.
“I might break out the violins if I didn’t know you’re making a fortune,” Lucas told his friend as the bartender arrived to replace their drinks with a silent efficiency.
“Hardly a fortune.” Teagan downed a shot of tequila before he reached for his beer, heaving a faux sigh. “I have overhead out the ass, not to mention paying my cousins twice what they’re worth. A word of warning, amigo. Never go into business with your family.”
“Too late,” Lucas murmured.
As far as he was concerned, the men who crawled out of that Taliban cave with him were his brothers. And the only family that mattered.
“True that.” Teagan gave a slow nod, holding up his frosty glass. “To ARES.”
Lucas clinked his glass against Teagan’s in appreciation of the bond they’d formed.
“To ARES.”
Drinking the tequila in one swallow, Lucas set aside his empty glass. There was a brief silence before Teagan at last spoke the words that’d no doubt been on the tip of his tongue since they walked through the door of the bar.
“Are you ever going to get to the point of why you asked to meet me here?” his friend bluntly demanded.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, arching his brows.
“Couldn’t it just be because I enjoy your sparkling personality?”
Teagan snorted. “If I’d known this was a date I would have worn my lucky shirt.”
“You need a shirt to get lucky?”
“Not usually.” Teagan flashed his friend a mocking smile. “But I’ve heard you like to play hard to get.”
Lucas grimaced at the direct hit. Yeah. Hard to get was one way to put it.
“I want to discuss Hauk,” he admitted, not at all eager to think about his lack of a sex life.
About The Authors
Alexandra Ivy is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Guardians of Eternity, as well as the Sentinels, Dragons of Eternity and ARES series. After majoring in theatre she decided she prefers to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She lives in Missouri with her family. Visit her website at alexandraivy.com.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author, Laura Wright is passionate about romantic fiction. Though she has spent most of her life immersed in acting, singing and competitive ballroom dancing, when she found the world of writing and books and endless cups of coffee she knew she was home. Laura is the author of the bestselling Mark of the Vampire series and the USA Today bestselling series, Bayou Heat, which she co-authors with Alexandra Ivy.
Laura lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two young children and three loveable dogs.