Chapter One

U S Deputy Marshal Kurt Dandridge shook his head at the fugitive covered in cake and frosting. "You shouldn't have come to your grandmother's birthday party, Tiggy."

"Didn't I tell you I always catch my guy?" Zack Beaumont asked as he assisted the handcuffed man into the back of the SUV.

Zack reminded Ridge of a tawny lion, but not just because of his unique hair and eye color. Strength and power radiated off the man. And like the majestic cat he resembled, Zack had patiently stalked his prey until Tiggy Barnes had made a fatal mistake. He shouldn't have stopped at his favorite watering hole for a drink because Zack, along with Ridge and Eddie Chandler, had been there, in the tall grass, waiting to pounce.

Every lawman has an unsolved case that consumes their thoughts, and most criminals have a soft spot for at least one person. The key to capturing the bad guy was discovering their weakness and setting a trap. Timothy "Tiggy" Barnes was Zack's elusive fugitive, and Tiggy's soft spot was Beulah Barnes, the grandmother who'd raised him. Zack had stalked the social media accounts of Tiggy's known relatives and had known it was time to strike when he saw the announcement for the birthday party in Tallahassee.

They'd set up shop on the street behind granny's house a few days before the party so they could watch the people coming and going. After three days with no Tiggy sighting, it had seemed Zack had overestimated Beulah's importance to the arms dealer until the man stepped out of the house carrying an enormous birthday cake. Living on the run hadn't been kind to the fugitive. Tiggy had gained at least fifty pounds and lost most of his hair. Ridge might've thought it was a close relative if not for his distinctive tattoos.

Joy and relief flashed in his friend's golden-brown eyes as he high-fived Ridge and Eddie after a successful mission. Ridge knew he'd look just as dopey on the day he finally slapped handcuffs on Sheldon Harris's wrists.

Eddie ducked down to look at Tiggy. The marshal's white-blond hair and vibrant green eyes gave him a youthful appearance that made it easy for fugitives to underestimate him. Tiggy had learned his lesson the hard way when he'd dropped the cake and made a run for freedom after the trio of marshals identified themselves. Eddie, a former defensive end, had tackled him to the ground just as he'd done to the quarterbacks in college. Slamming into a brick wall at full speed would be softer than running into Eddie. Maybe the cake had softened the impact a little. "That must've been some cake for you to risk your freedom. What was it? Marble with whipped cream icing?"

Tiggy scowled at the suggestion. "Hummingbird cake, and fuck you, man. My granny means everything to me, and she might not be around much longer. I planned on turning myself in tomorrow."

"Sure you did," Zack said.

Tiggy had been on their most-wanted list for over three years. He'd had ample time to turn himself in and hadn't done it. None of the marshals believed his bullshit for a second.

Eddie sighed. "Hummingbird cake is my favorite. I probably would've gambled on it too."

Ridge looked over at the porch where the ninety-year-old woman was holding court with about two dozen family members. The white-haired lady met his gaze head-on and lifted her chin a few notches. "Sorry about your ruined party and cake, ma'am." Beulah Barnes flipped him off. Stifling a chuckle, he said, "She'll outlive us all," then slid into the back with the gunrunner. "What kind of name is Tiggy, anyway?"

"My baby sister couldn't say Timothy and called me Tiggy. She'd been on a big Winnie the Pooh kick, and Tigger was her favorite character." That explained the tattoo of the cartoon tiger on his forearm. "I was a super hyper kid, always bouncing around, so maybe she thought I was like him. The name just stuck all these years, even though I resemble the chubby bear these days."

Ridge spent most of the four-and-a-half-hour drive in speculative silence. As happy as he was for Zack, he couldn't stop thinking about his elusive fugitive. He cycled through the steps he'd taken to locate Sheldon Harris. Unlike Tiggy, Ridge had been unable to find a soft spot for the Cardoza cartel hitman.

"What's your problem?" Tiggy asked, breaking into his thoughts. "You the strong silent kind or something?"

"Man troubles," Eddie said from the front seat.

Tiggy's eyebrows arched toward his forehead. "You like dudes?"

Ridge glared at the man. "Is that a problem for you?"

"Hell no," Tiggy said quickly. "To each their own, my granny always said. You just look so…um…masculine."

"It's called butch," Eddie said.

"Are you one too?" Tiggy asked.

Eddie pivoted in his seat and leveled a menacing look at the arms dealer. "Am I one too?"

Tiggy had the decency to look properly chastised. "Sorry," he said to Ridge. "I didn't mean any offense. I'm never sure what I'm allowed to say these days."

"You sell illegal guns to motorcycle gangs and drug cartels, and you're worried about using politically correct language?" Ridge asked.

Tiggy shrugged. "I used to be a nice Southern gentleman." Ridge was curious to know what had happened to set the man on this course but refused to ask. "It's okay to ask someone if they're gay or queer."

"Really? That last one used to be an insult."

"They're reclaiming the word," Eddie informed him. "And context matters. Using those words in a derogatory way isn't cool."

"You sound like an HR video," Zack said. Eddie flipped him off.

"Are you gay too?" Tiggy asked.

"I'm not," Eddie replied, "but my best friend is, so I made an effort to learn the language."

Ridge chuckled. "He's perused the urban dictionary. I have never used the term butch to describe myself or anyone else."

"What kind of man troubles are you having?" Tiggy inquired.

Ridge scowled at him. "I am not discussing my boyfriend with you."

Zack snorted from the driver's seat. "For starters, Dandridge can't seem to remember he has a fiancé."

"Huh?" Ziggy asked. "You're juggling two guys?"

Eddie laughed. "The boyfriend is the fiancé, but for some reason, Deputy Marshal Dandridge can't remember the status upgrade."

" Upgrade ," Zack grumbled. "He can't remember because they're not right for each other."

"Not this again," Ridge said under his breath.

"Oh, this sounds interesting," Tiggy said, straightening in his seat. "Lay it on me."

"First of all, a carnivore and a vegan have no business being together," Zack said. "It's the same as someone wanting kids marrying someone who can't stand them. How does anyone think there's a suitable outcome there?"

"It's not the same thing at all," Ridge countered.

"Oh, really? Where's the compromise?" Eddie asked. "He expects you to give up all meat and animal byproducts. What are you supposed to dunk Oreos in?"

"Almond milk," Ridge replied, proud he kept the horror out of his voice.

"Gross," the three other men in the car said simultaneously.

"What's his sacrifice?" Zack asked.

Ridge tried to come up with a response to defend Todd but mentally flailed. His boyfriend— fiancé —was an all-or-nothing guy. Compromise wasn't in his repertoire.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," Eddie said. "I've never seen two people so ill-suited for each other."

"Then why did you get engaged?" Tiggy asked.

Ridge pinned him with a dark look. "I think you should worry more about yourself right now."

Tiggy just shrugged and changed the subject, leaving Ridge to look out the window and contemplate the conversation he needed to have with Todd. His friends were right. They weren't a good fit. They weren't in love, and Ridge doubted they'd ever experienced anything deeper than infatuation, but that had been in the beginning, and those feelings had long since faded. Getting engaged had been a mistake. Ridge could see it clearly now, and he even understood what had prompted it. He'd have to untangle the mess he'd made of his personal life.

"Aw, that's so sweet," Tiggy said, yanking Ridge back to the conversation happening around him.

He noticed both Tiggy and Eddie were looking at him while Zack glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "What?"

"Your friends have already picked out your next fiancé," Tiggy replied.

Ridge rolled his eyes. "There won't be another fiancé." He'd never allow himself to get tangled in someone else's vines ever again. Loose and free would be his motto going forward. "And I'm not having this conversation again."

Zack and Eddie had taken every opportunity to mention a guy named Kendall, who they'd met at a barbecue at their inspector's house. Ridge had gotten in trouble with Todd for eating chili at Asher's house the last time he'd attended a cookout there, so he'd been banned from attending.

"So sensitive," Tiggy grumbled.

Ignoring him, Ridge said, "How'd you like it if I kept pushing other women at you guys?"

Zack snorted, and Eddie laughed. Ridge loved Emma and Jess, their respective girlfriends, and they both knew it. He flipped them off and stewed the rest of the way back to Savannah.

"You go on home," Eddie told Ridge once they parked at the field office just after midnight. "We'll get Tiggy booked."

He started to protest but saw the determined look in his best friend's eyes.

"Fine," Ridge said as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. "I'll tell my boyfriend you said hello."

"Fiancé," his friends and Tiggy replied.

Fuck .

Ridge's adrenaline started to wane not long after he pulled out of the parking lot. The upscale apartment he shared with Todd had felt more like a battlefield lately, but their soft bed beckoned.

Ridge collected his gear from the back of his SUV and headed toward the building. Their apartment complex was exclusive, elegant, and expensive, which came with some excellent security features. Most of the residents were young professionals, so it was always quiet when he came home in the middle of the night. That explained why the doorman was fast asleep at his desk when Ridge entered his code and stepped inside the lobby. He cleared his throat to wake the man and continued to the elevators.

Ridge's tension ebbed as he rode up to the fourth floor, and it had nearly disappeared by the time he unlocked the door and stepped into his apartment. His stress returned tenfold when he was immediately greeted by a throaty meow . Samson, Todd's cat who looked more like a miniature lion, leaped onto the foyer table, knocking the mail onto the floor. Ridge set his bags down and reached for the tawny beast who'd stolen his heart.

"Hey there, big guy," Ridge said as he scratched behind the cat's ears, earning a rumbling purr as a reward. "What are you doing out here?" Sammy always slept in bed with Todd. The only exception was when they were—

The adrenaline that had left him for dead on the side of the road reappeared suddenly. "I don't fucking believe it." Ridge gently set Sammy down and cut across the room and down the hallway to the master bedroom. Sure enough, the door was closed. Should he knock to alert the lying son of a bitch he was home or just open the door and confirm what he'd known for weeks, maybe months?

Ridge chose the latter option and flipped on the light switch. "Honey, I'm home," he said, his false cheer echoing in the still room.

Two men jackknifed into a sitting position on the bed. Todd's mouth gaped open in surprise while Todd's boss, Richard, clutched the sheet to his chest and trembled in fear.

Todd recovered first and said, "You're not supposed to be home for a few more days."

"Obviously," Ridge quipped. He shook his head and went to the closet to remove his suitcase and garment bag. He didn't own much, so it wouldn't take him long to pack and leave—something he should've done a long time ago. Ridge swung the luggage onto the bed, not caring if he clipped Richard's legs in the process.

"What are you doing?" Todd asked.

"Oh my god," Richard said. "Is that where he keeps his guns?"

Ridge met the older man's gaze. The signs had been there. The late dinners, the constant texting, and the almost possessive exchanges during the few times Ridge had attended events at Richard's art gallery. He'd known something was going on between the two men but hadn't listened to his gut. Todd had spent way too much time accusing Ridge of nonexistent infidelity, and now he realized his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend was projecting his guilt.

"I wouldn't risk a life sentence or the death penalty on either of you," Ridge said.

Richard heaved a deep sigh and sagged against the headboard while Todd attempted to murder Ridge with his furious gaze. He'd have to try harder because Ridge was tough to kill.

Throwing back the covers, Todd advanced on Ridge. "That's all you have to say?"

Ridge spared him a glance before he started emptying the dresser drawers into his suitcase. "It's all I'm willing to say right now." Once finished, he started toward the closet again to retrieve his suits.

Todd slid in front of him, blocking the way. "This is all your fault."

Ridge breathed deeply through his nose, unwilling to participate in the fight Todd wanted to have with him. No matter what he said, Todd would turn his words around. His fiancé had been gaslighting him for months. Now you remember he's your fiancé? The thought put a smile on his face, which apparently dumped gasoline on Todd's fire.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" Todd asked, shoving against Ridge's chest. He was too heavy to move with such a pitiful attempt. He'd more than lived up to his family's built-like-a-mountain moniker, so Todd's feeble efforts made him chuckle.

"Honey, I don't think it's wise to provoke the man," Richard said from the bed.

Ridge quirked a brow at the pet name the older man had used but didn't remark. His silence only made Todd angrier, and Ridge was starting to enjoy the show. Todd's pale skin was turning a shade of red he'd only seen in cartoons. Would steam come out of his ears next?

"If you were here more, I wouldn't have started looking for another man to keep me company," Todd said.

It was apparent Todd wasn't going to step aside until he'd had his say. Ridge wasn't about to forcibly move him and risk ending up with Todd filing allegations of domestic abuse. He also realized he couldn't ignore the man forever, so Ridge braced himself for the confrontation and met Todd's gaze.

"You knew I was a marshal when we met," Ridge said. "Not once have you ever asked me to change careers. Besides, this is the first time I've left town in months."

Todd snorted. "You wouldn't have switched jobs, and I didn't feel like wasting my breath."

"You weren't concerned about your personal air conservation when you spent every free moment accusing me of fucking around," Ridge said.

His former fiancé tilted his chin up. "I wasn't referring to your career, anyway. In fact, it's the only fun thing about you."

Ridge snorted. "Nice deflection."

Todd crossed his arms over his chest. "I was talking about your absence when you were home. You might've physically been in the same room with me, but you weren't here. You were never engaged in conversation or…sex. You're selfish, Ridge. I need more—in and out of bed."

Ridge refused to let Todd's blow land. "Then why are you blocking my way to the closet? Why not let me collect my things and leave?"

"He asks a good question, dear," Richard said.

Honey ? Dear ? Were they suddenly in an episode of an old sitcom?

"Not now, Richard," Todd said snidely. "I have things I need to say."

"I don't care to hear them," Ridge replied.

Todd spoke over him and said, "Once he leaves, I won't get another opportunity."

"You got that right," Ridge agreed.

Ignoring him, Todd added, "And I want closure so this isn't hanging over our relationship."

"Fine," Richard said. "I'll just get dressed and go into the living room."

"No," Todd and Ridge said at the same time.

"Stay where you are, Dick," Ridge said.

"This won't take long," Todd added. "It never does with him." That insult landed hard, but Ridge must not have shown it outwardly because Todd's smirk melted like an ice cream cone in August. Todd shook his head and sighed. "Never mind. I'm not going to waste my breath." Todd stepped aside, clearing Ridge's path to the closet and gesturing for him to continue.

Instead of retreating to the bed, Todd followed Ridge into the closet and did the opposite of what he'd just declared. He wasted a ton of air and energy berating everything about Ridge, from how he dressed to what he ate. The verbal abuse continued through clearing out the bathroom and his nightstand, but Ridge didn't engage. He just smiled, shook his head, or laughed at the incredibly ridiculous complaints.

Once finished, Ridge stopped at the foot of the bed and faced Richard, who managed to look both shell-shocked and remorseful. "Good luck, pal," Ridge said, then headed for the door.

"You asshole," Todd said, following him down the hall into the living room.

Ridge stopped by the front door long enough to work the apartment key off his ring. He dropped it onto the foyer table and reached for the doorknob, only stopping when he heard Sammy meowing by his feet. He could blow off everything about the apartment and even the man he'd shared it with but not the fluffy little guy. Ridge set his bags on the floor and hoisted the cat into his arms.

"I'm going to miss you, Sammy."

"His name is Samson," Todd said. "Jesus. You show more affection to my cat than you ever did to me."

Ridge met Todd's furious gaze. "Damn right I do," he said calmly. "He's more deserving."

Todd tilted his head to the side. "Why aren't you angrier?"

Ridge dropped a kiss on Sammy's head and set him on the foyer table because he knew it would infuriate Todd, who was too stupid to realize you couldn't train a cat. They trained you. Ridge stroked his hand over Sammy's sleek back, and the furry bastard arched up into his caress, purring loudly beneath his ministrations. The sound had always brought him comfort after long days on the job.

"I asked you a question," Todd said.

Ridge took a deep breath, opened the apartment door, and picked up his luggage from the floor. "I'm plenty angry." He allowed Todd to wallow in his aggrandized victory before he lowered the boom. "I'm pissed I let you gaslight me when you were the one fucking around. I'm furious I allowed this farce to continue for as long as I did. I resent the times I felt guilty for eating meat behind your back. It wasn't just chili at that one barbecue."

Todd glared. "So you are a cheater."

"It's not the same thing, and we both know it." Ridge stepped out into the hallway. "Mostly, I regret the day we met. There's nothing I can do about that now, so I'm going to move forward and have a wonderful life. Best of luck to you and Richard."

Todd responded by slamming the door in his face. Ridge walked away without looking back. The doorman had fallen asleep again when he reached the lobby. Ridge just shook his head and kept walking.

The reality of his situation punched him in the face when he stepped into the muggy night. Where the hell was he going to go? He knew Zack and Eddie were still awake, but they would be reconnecting with their girlfriends. Besides, thirty-five was a bit old to be crashing on his buddy's sofa. A hotel was the sensible solution, so he got into his SUV and headed toward the closest one. A sign with a giant neon airplane caught his attention like a flashy beacon in the dark. It was reminiscent of something Ridge would expect to find in Vegas, not Savannah.

Ridge drove past the hotel and the next one too, heading toward the club as if on autopilot. The Cockpit was a popular gay club that happened to serve the best wings, or so he'd heard from Zack and Eddie, who'd soaked up adoration from the waiters as they'd mowed through wings and fries without him. Assholes .

A cute brunet dressed like a sexy flight attendant stood at the host station when he walked in. He lit up like a firecracker when his gaze met Ridge's. He opened his mouth to talk but was interrupted by a waiter who spoke in a low but urgent tone. Ridge didn't mind because it allowed him to check out the club's interior.

Holy hell. He'd expected an over-the-top theme, but this was like nothing he'd ever seen before. The warehouse had been converted into a multi-level club with ceilings so high in the main section actual planes hung suspended from the metal rafters. The stage was constructed to look like a giant airplane wing, and male dancers wearing angel wings and silver G-strings gyrated to the loud music on platforms above the crowd. The waiters wore pilot hats, aviators, mesh crop tops, and navy-blue booty shorts with gold wings on the crotch and the club's name on the back. Ridge glanced over at the bar and saw the bartenders all wore green flight suits like military pilots.

"Hi. I'm Seth."

Ridge glanced back at the host station and smiled. "Hi, Seth." He didn't offer up his name, causing the flight attendant to pout prettily.

"Will you be dining alone, or is someone joining you?"

"Just me, but I plan on eating enough wings for three people."

Seth smiled. "This way," he said, tilting his head toward the dining area.

Ridge followed him to a table in the center of the room. "Colt will be right over to take your order. I hope you enjoy, handsome."

Ridge smiled and shook his head when the flight attendant walked away, then scrubbed his hands over his face. What a fucking night. Hell, what a fucking week. A waiter stopped at the table across from his, and Ridge got a whiff of something spicy and sweet. His mouth watered as he looked at the heaping plate of wings the waiter set down.

The cute guy turned and smiled at Ridge. "Well, hello. My name is Colt, and I'll be taking excellent care of you tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

Ridge ignored the flirtation and pointed to the neighboring table. "What flavor are those wings?"

Colt smiled coyly. "Regret."

How fitting . Ridge chuckled, then said, "I'll start with a dozen."