“Of course, I’m sure. He’s a really good friend.”
“Why am I sensing there’s a backstory with this guy?”
I grin. He really is too smart for his own good.
“Technically, this friend and I had a fling when he still worked with the police.”
Ethan’s eyes bulge.
“What?” he questions, his voice low.
“It was many years ago. It doesn’t mean anything,” I hurriedly assure him.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he mutters under his breath, but I still hear him.
I shake my head at his tantrum.
Men.
“I’d just like to say. It never works out when you date a co-worker,” Ethan states after a few minutes.
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Really? You’re still thinking about that?” I question.
“Of course I am,” he grumbles.
He’s silent for the rest of the drive. We arrive at our destination, and after paying the cab driver, Ethan and I head up to the modern Spanish-style house with a well-trimmed lawn in front. I’m relieved to see that it’s the same house I recognize from the photos he’s sent. I was terrified I was sending us on a wild goose chase. I knock on the door.
A few seconds later, we hear footsteps, and the door swings open to reveal the familiar, handsome face of Gregory Tress. He grins widely when he sees me.
“Audra,” he says in surprise, walking out to wrap me in a big hug.
“Hey, Gregory,” I say with a laugh as I hug him back, careful not to hurt my injured arm.
“Hey, beautiful. I wasn’t expecting to see you. Figured you’d be back in the US by now,” he says.
“Yeah, I got into some trouble,” I tell him.
It’s then he seems to notice the frowning, tall man standing beside me. He lets me go and turns to him. I stand in the middleof both men, and I know it’s awful, but I find myself comparing them. Ethan’s way taller than Greg. Gregory’s not short, but he’s 5’9 tops, while Ethan is easily at least six feet tall.
Ethan’s rugged, sexy, muscular, and handsome. Gregory’s gorgeous too but in his own way. He has blonde hair, and Ethan’s hair is curly black. Greg has that all-American, jock charm while Ethan is more of a…... I don’t even know how to qualify him.
“And who is this?” Gregory asks me without looking at me.
Both men are too busy trying to stare each other down.
“This is Ethan; he’s a friend of mine. Greg, I feel really bad about turning up like this. I don’t want to bring trouble to your door, but we need help.”
He turns to me.
“I could never say no to you, beautiful. Come in. Your friend, too,” he adds, leading us into his typical bachelor pad.
It’s clean, but everything else from the furniture screams, single man.
“How has Mexico been?” he asks me.
“A nightmare,” I mutter under my breath.
