Summary:
My best friend’s little brother needs a bodyguard. Now I’m the one in danger…
I’m a SEAL. Or rather, I was. Retired at the grand old age of thirty-eight, I’m at loose ends. My best friend wants me to join his security team. I’m not sure I’m bodyguard material, but he needs someone to protect his kid brother. How hard can spoiled brat duty be?
Somehow, I missed the part where former child star Danny Love went from dorky TV darling to all grown up and disturbingly attractive. All the gossip about his wild ways fails to mention that he’s trying hard to clean up his act. But now he’s got a stalker.
Hiding out together in a remote mountain cabin, alone, the temptation keeps building. I’m feeling things I never have before. Secrets I’ve kept even from myself bubble to the surface every time Danny looks my way with those puppy dog eyes.
I’m a SEAL. We leap into danger. So why is it so terrifying when that danger comes with the softest pair of lips I’ve ever known? At some point we’re going to have to return to Hollywood and our vastly different lives. Will Danny still want me around when he doesn’t need me for protection? Can I be brave enough to give him a reason to?
TOUGH LUCK is book one in a brand-new SEAL bodyguard series. It features an age gap, steamy first times, and all the high heat, big emotions, and found family feels readers expect from this fan-favorite military romance author. Join A-List security for this lower-angst series featuring former SEALs and the celebrity clients who win their hearts. Happy endings and no cliffhangers guaranteed!
How hard can it be to guard the country’s biggest rockstar?
As a SEAL officer, I’m no stranger to danger, but running my own security firm is a new challenge. Finding the right bodyguard for each client isn’t easy. Our next gig? My little brother’s best friend, rock god Ezra Moon, has a security crisis. Ezra is convinced I’m the right man for the job, but I’m not so sure.
From crowd surfing to infamous pictures, Ezra is known for taking risks. It’s no wonder his record label thinks he needs a keeper on tour.
But there’s not a tour bus big enough to contain our incendiary attraction. Ezra and his antics push every last one of my buttons, but the real problem is how much I want to kiss some sense into him. He’s a client, and angry make-out sessions aren’t the answer. Yet we keep finding ourselves alone and burning up the sheets until our secret fling threatens to scorch both of us.
I’ve spent my whole life running from the spotlight, trying to distance myself from my notorious father. Ezra wants to live his best life on the biggest stage. A future seems impossible, but our feelings are undeniable. Can I admit how hard I’ve fallen for Ezra without losing everything?
HARD JOB is book two in a brand-new SEAL bodyguard series. It features a reluctant SEAL bodyguard, a mouthy rock star with a heart of gold, molten chemistry, and pie. Lots of pie. Also, all the high heat, big emotions, and found family feels readers expect from this fan-favorite military romance author. Join A-List security for this new series featuring former SEALs and the celebrity clients who win their hearts. Happy endings and no cliffhangers guaranteed!
Tough Luck #1
Chapter One
Cash
“I have a job for you.” Duncan placed two coffee mugs on his breakfast bar as I emerged from his guest room. Damn it. I should have stayed in bed, even if I’d been awake for hours, waiting for a suitable time to putter around in his kitchen. But now he’d beaten me to the coffee maker, and his too-efficient tone said I wasn’t going to like whatever this was.
“No.” I picked up the mug with black coffee as opposed to the one with a pale-colored brew with flecks of cinnamon on top. Duncan always did like his coffee too damn fancy.
“You’re not going to let me tell you about it?” Nose wrinkling, he adjusted his tie. Seeing Duncan all fancy was still weird as fuck. My brain still expected to see him in fatigues, not some pricey suit with slick hair and shiny shoes.
“This rent-a-SEAL deal, that’s you and Harley, man.” I didn’t need to hear about the job to know it had to do with A-List Security, the company he and our fellow buddy from the service were starting. They’d been on me for months to join them, more so since I’d landed in Duncan’s bedroom post-separation from the navy.
“You need a job. A plan.” Duncan’s tone had been way more patient when I arrived a week earlier, but now his voice had that lieutenant edge.
“R&R doesn’t count?” I wasn’t letting him bully me. The ink on the separation papers was barely dry, and I’d come straight off a deployment to have to deal with retirement shit as it was. “Feels like I could sleep for a month.”
And yet I couldn’t seem to stay asleep for anything, but Duncan didn’t need to hear about my insomnia woes.
“Damn right, you need rest.” Duncan clapped me on the shoulder. He was slightly shorter but had big hands and a near-crushing grip. “But you also need to figure this out. You let retirement sneak up on you. You’re only thirty-eight. You could even go to college—”
“Stop right there. I’m not going back to school.” As if. I’d barely made it out of high school, done the exact minimum to get myself a ticket to basic training. Last thing I wanted was to be stuck in some classroom. “I’ll find something.”
“But I have something.” Duncan smiled, charm turned up to eleven even in the face of my grumpiness. “Consider this a personal favor to me. It involves Danny.”
“Your brother, the former TV star?” Part of why Duncan fit in so well here in LA with his new high-rise lifestyle was that his blood actually ran Hollywood gold, not navy blue. There was no escaping his legendary movie producer dad or his famous brother, even if Duncan had fled to the naval academy trying. “What did the kid do this time?”
“He’s twenty-five now, as he keeps reminding me. Trying to get his life together. Again. Man, I really hope the changes stick this time.”
“Here’s to hoping.” I saluted him with my coffee. I wasn’t sure a kid who’d famously posted a drunken base-jumping video among other antics could change his stripes for good, but Duncan’s eternal optimism was an admirable trait.
“Word. Anyway, for once, it’s not gossip columns that are the issue. It’s his safety.”
“Safety?” Despite not wanting anything to do with this job, curiosity got the better of me.
“I think he has a stalker.” Duncan paced away from the counter, long efficient strides that carried him to the pantry, where he grabbed a protein bar before returning. “Danny’s trying to pass it off as some rabid superfan, but I’m not so sure. He was the one to call me for once, and he was all full of questions like how to spot a tail and how to adjust location settings on his phone.”
“Shit.” I whistled low. “Doesn’t the kid have some kind of bodyguard already?”
Unlike Duncan, I was the furthest thing possible from Hollywood, but I’d watched enough TV to know big stars always had entourages.
“Nope.” Duncan tore off a bite of protein bar with his teeth. “Danny’s on this let’s be a normal guy kick and apparently no longer has staff beyond a weekly cleaner.”
Simply the ease with which Duncan said staff showed how many light-years apart our upbringings were.
“Security system?” I asked.
“No clue. He freaked at the idea of me running a check on the cleaning service too. But something’s up. He sounded legit scared, and I can’t let it drop even if that’s what he wants.”
“Yeah.” Duncan was the type to worry for a new recruit he barely knew. Of course, he was going to worry about his little brother.
“He shouldn’t ignore warning signs. You’ve told me enough stories about those fans being crazy fuckers.” That was putting it lightly. Duncan’s brother had spent a decade or so on a show so popular it had its own conventions, merch everywhere, and fans so intense they had ridiculous nicknames for themselves. They’d famously staged a campaign to get more seasons of the show, resulting in a whole studio getting shut down for a bomb threat. Yeah, Danny’s fans were no joke.
“Exactly. I can’t just write this off. And that’s where you come in.”
I groaned because I knew where he was headed with this. “You can’t change your flight?”
I glanced over to the suitcase waiting by the entryway. Duncan was headed out on a job for a big starlet going to a Toronto film festival. And he’d been nice enough to let me crash here while he was away. I owed him.
“Nope, I can’t pass up this job, especially last-minute, but I need someone to check on Danny, see what sort of security setup he actually has in place, and get more info about what’s going on.”
“Harley?” I kept my voice hopeful even though I knew the answer.
“He’s got a gig on a set with long hours. Eventually, we’ll have more options, but we’re still working out specifics with several candidates.”
“The two of you and your home for wayward ex-SEALs.” I shook my head. His and Harley’s business plan wasn’t terrible. Plenty of folks needed jobs after getting out of the service. I just wasn’t so sure I was one. “Listen, I’ll do this favor for you. One-time deal. Save your money.”
“We won’t put you on the payroll. Yet.” He winked at me before pulling out his phone. “But my offer will still be there when you’re ready. And I’m sending you the address details now.”
“Better tell him I’m coming by,” I advised, not missing how sure Duncan had been that I’d say yes. I was too damn predictable.
“Yup, I knew I could count on you.” Duncan clicked around on his phone, and moments later, my own cell beeped in my pocket.
“Always.” I meant that. He might be presumptive and meddling, but he also had my respect and friendship for life. I might have no fucking clue what to do with my life now, but I’d always be there for Duncan and the rest of my special forces buddies.
And that was how I found myself navigating a ritzy Hollywood Hills neighborhood looking for Danny’s place. Needing something more than one of Duncan’s protein bars, I’d stopped for a fast-food breakfast sandwich. The place had a two-for-one deal, so I’d gotten an extra for Danny. A peace offering because I suspected he’d be less than thrilled with his brother checking up on him.
But damn, did this kid need Duncan’s help. Most of the driveways on his street of older stately mansions had locked gates, but not Danny’s. Just a simple wide-open driveway, an invitation to trouble. I was a little surprised at his choice of neighborhoods. I would have figured a young star like him for a penthouse downtown or a glitzy modern palace farther up the hills, not this street of historic places that seemed transported from last century.
At least his Spanish-inspired estate with white walls and a red roof complete with a turret was set back away from the road. But still, it was far too easy for me to pull in and park right next to the multi-level house, which was tucked into a steep hillside. In keeping with his piss-poor security, a brief sweep revealed no obvious camera other than the doorbell one.
I pressed the bell and held up the bag of food. “Hey, it’s Cash. Duncan’s friend. I brought breakfast.”
“Cash?” A voice crackled back over the intercom. “No, I paid on the app. Your tip is on there too. Just leave the food right inside the courtyard.”
No, I most certainly was not leaving the food and going, especially when I tried the tall gate next to the doorbell and found it unlocked, leading to a small courtyard.
“Hello? Danny?” I called out. Some sort of melodic flute music sounded in the distance, reminding me of open-air markets I’d visited on deployments.
“Just leave the food,” a voice answered, closer than expected. I tracked the voice to a wrought iron gate on the other side of the courtyard, leading to a little garden and—
“Holy fuck.” A buck-naked man was right there in the middle of the manicured garden, standing on a yoga mat. Man. I’d seen enough pics of Duncan’s brother over the years to know this was Danny, but when the hell had he grown? He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was lean with cut muscles and freckles in interesting places. And naked. Very, very naked.
“What the hell?” Danny tumbled out of whatever yoga pose he’d been doing. His eyes widened. “You’re not the grocery delivery guy.”
“Nope.” I shifted the food bag to my other hand so I could get my military ID as proof. But as soon as I reached for my back pocket, Danny made an alarmed noise.
“Please don’t kill me!”
Hard Job #2
Chapter One
Duncan
Domestic happiness weirded me out. There. I’d let myself own the thought I’d had all afternoon. I rolled my shoulders, trying to let go of the tension that had plagued me since my arrival at this impromptu pool party. But I must not have been doing a great job relaxing because my brother plopped down on the pool lounger next to me with a concerned expression.
“Are we torturing you that much?” Danny asked. This late-lunch Saturday gathering had been his idea, and I’d agreed to stay in his good graces along with the chance to see my best friend, Cash. Who was now Danny’s boyfriend, a move I still wasn’t used to, and while not torture, the joint invite and cutesy way they finished each other’s sentences made my skin itch in strange places. Not that I could admit that to Danny. I’d spent far too many years disconnected from my half-brother’s life, and I was determined to do a better job as a brother, even if that meant tamping down my discomfort over him and Cash hooking up.
“What?” I wasn’t an actor like Danny, but I could still do a decent job of faking shock. His backyard was lush with summer foliage, and the pool water sparkled in the sunlight. I added an exaggerated blink against the afternoon sun. “Of course not.”
“Liar.” Danny rolled his eyes at me, unconvinced by my wide eyes and upturned hands. “And lucky for you, I’ve got the perfect distraction for your workaholic self.”
“Oh?” I carefully pitched my voice to be inviting. I always seemed to say the wrong thing with Danny, and I wanted to keep the peace, even if that meant speaking less and listening more. “What’s up?”
“It’s a job.”
“A job?” Narrowing my eyes, I sat forward on the lounger, studying him more closely.
“You don’t have to look so suspicious.” Danny had apparently added mind reader to his list of talents. “Nothing to do with me. No new stalker. I’m good, promise. This is a job for your company.”
“You have a job for A-List?” I’d been under the impression that Danny only grudgingly tolerated my security business. We’d bailed him out of a tight spot a few months back, but it was usually Cash, not Danny, who was interested in talking shop with me.
“My friend, Ezra, is in something of a PR nightmare right now.” Danny ended with a flourish of his hand as if he could magic away his superstar singer friend having made major headlines for fans jumping a barrier at one of his concerts.
“I heard.” Reading the Hollywood news was part of my job now, but there was enough chatter over Ezra Moon’s big misstep I would have heard even if I’d still been in the service. It was a miracle no one had been seriously injured. The incident had sparked a lot of internet debate over concert security and a performer’s obligation to ensure ticket holders' safety. And this came on the heels of other complaints about Ezra’s antics. Socializing with fans and putting himself in risky situations were all part of his freewheeling brand. Ezra might be a musical genius, but I was already wary of how Danny thought I could get involved.
“His security chief resigned before Ezra could fire him, but the whole thing is a mess.”
“And you thought of me as a potential mess cleaner for him?”
“Of course.” He shrugged his slim shoulders, glancing over to the grill where Cash was flipping burgers. “You’re the best security person I know. Other than Cash, I mean. And Ezra deserves the best. I told him that you—”
“Hold up. You already talked to Ezra about me? The company, I mean.” I probably sounded fourteen there. Damn it, Duncan. I’d been around Hollywood elites my whole life. I didn’t do starstruck. But something about discussing Danny’s best friend always put me on edge, made me feel two steps away from flailing like some teenybopper fan. Ezra had been on the same hit show as Danny, but as an adult, he’d reached superstar status with his band, We Wear Crowns, reinventing himself from child star to rock icon. I hadn’t seen him in person since his TV shows, but whenever Danny played one of his music videos, my skin always went weirdly prickly. The tunes had a way of wriggling into my brain, ending up on far more of my playlists than I’d ever admit.
“I talk about you a lot.” Danny wrinkled his nose before smiling over at Cash. Apparently, they couldn’t be separated for more than five minutes without exchanging those soft looks that continued to give me minor heartburn. Giving Cash a little wave, Danny returned his attention to me. “And how else am I supposed to help Ezra? He’s in a tight spot. The record label is threatening to cancel the rest of his tour if he doesn’t agree to increased security. The last thing he wants is someone they pick as a babysitter reporting his every move.”
“A-List would be there to be a security option he could boss around?” I’d dealt with plenty of picky stars, but I always made it clear who was in charge. Apart from whatever weird reaction his music induced in me, Ezra looking to circumvent his label’s wishes, undoubtedly so he could keep pulling his stunts, didn’t bode well for my business.
“Not exactly.” Danny’s tone was cagey enough that I didn’t believe him, but I let him continue. “But Ezra would have more…flexibility with someone he hired himself. And taking the initiative would show the label he’s taking their concerns seriously.”
“I take it he needs new security ASAP?”
“Yup. Which is why I thought of you.” Danny gave me the same winning grin that had made him America’s sweetheart as a child star on the same show where he’d met Ezra. “This could be great publicity for your business. Ezra is a superstar. Having him on your client roster would look amazing.”
“Not a terrible point.” I did need all the word-of-mouth advertising we could get, and a few more well-placed clients would go a long way to strengthening our bottom line. “Let me think on which of our personnel has availability.”
“Oh. Uh.” Danny bit his lower lip. “I kind of told Ezra you’d handle this personally.”
“You promised Ezra I’d be his security person for this tour?” I groaned, unable to keep the frustration from my tone. So much for keeping the peace. “I can’t be gone from LA that long.”
“It’s a few weeks.” Danny made another dismissive gesture. “This final leg of the tour isn’t that long. And you said yourself earlier that you’re between gigs.”
“Yeah, but I’m hoping to move into more of a management role.” I was coming off a movie publicity tour that had followed a trip to Toronto for a film festival, and I was tired of living out of a suitcase. I also needed to turn my attention to hiring and training more employees. The whole point of the company was to give jobs to other veterans “It’s hard running a business when I keep taking assignments myself.”
“Like you can stay out of the field.” Cash snorted as he came over to us. He tapped Danny on the shoulder, and Danny obediently shifted so Cash could sit behind him. I resisted the impulse to make a crack about how there were plenty of other chairs. They didn’t have to be quite so joined at the hip. Or radiate so much contentment. Eventually, the newness of this thing between them would wear off, and they’d be less insufferable. At least, I hoped.
A muscle worked in my jaw. “Someone has to be in charge, oversee the day-to-day operations as we hire more personnel.”
“How’s that hiring going? Flooded with resumes?” Cash raised an eyebrow because he knew perfectly well that expanding the business I’d started with our buddy, Harley, was going slowly. We were picky about who we took on board, and the fluctuating client load meant we wanted to be careful to not have more employees than available work.
“Some. Trying to match candidates with available assignments. Which is what I’d like to do here, find Ezra someone suitable. Someone eager to pick up and head out on tour.” Someone who was not me. That last part went without saying, but I didn’t need a couple of weeks of trying to rein in my reactions to Danny’s friend. If simply hearing one of his songs could make my pulse speed up, I didn’t particularly want to find out what being in his presence would do. Being on edge for days on end would be utter misery. “I don’t belong anywhere near a rock tour.”
“True. You’d need a whole wardrobe makeover.” Cash laughed. My last few gigs had been more suit-and-tie affairs, and he liked to tease me about my love of nice clothes.
“You know, Money, you and your endless supply of black T-shirts would be perfect for this job.” I grinned as Danny groaned and glared at me.
“Cash has a job. And Linus would miss him.” Danny looked down at his snoozing dog, a small foul-tempered creature that had yet to warm up to me.
“Linus would be the one doing the missing. Uh-huh.”
“Come on. At least talk to Ezra.” Danny clearly wasn’t giving this up easily. “Sell him on hiring A-List. Show him the benefits of having an ex-SEAL bodyguard in charge.”
“Sounds like Ezra wants to be the one in charge.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying not to visualize Ezra’s latest music video, which was basically softcore porn, him rolling around on a bed in only a sheet, singing about wanting total control over some imaginary lover. Not liking the quiver in my stomach, I’d switched the video off, but not before the melody ended up stuck in my head for days.
“You could convince him otherwise.” Danny had a mischievous smile like he knew the exact direction of my thoughts. God, I hoped not.
“You expect that to work?” Business. This was business. And whatever else Ezra liked to be in charge of was irrelevant. All I needed to do was get him to give A-List adequate authority over security matters.
“Maybe you’ll work a miracle.” Danny’s smile tightened but kept that hopeful edge.
“Maybe.” I owed it to Danny to at least take Ezra’s call, and he wasn’t wrong about the potential boon to the business. “Get me his contact info. I’ll call him or his manager, whoever is handling the security contract, after we’re done here.
“No call needed. Ezra wants you to stop by later.” Danny wiggled against Cash, all pleased I’d agreed. And knowing him, he’d already promised Ezra.
“Come by? He’s in LA?”
“Yeah, he’s back in town between tour dates to film some TV special and find a way to appease his record label so they don’t stick him with some uptight jerk.” Danny finished brightly, but Cash coughed a warning. “Sorry. Not you. You’re not an uptight jerk.”
“Uptight, yeah, but the LT works damn hard not to be a jerk.” Cash smiled, but his eyes were serious. We’d served together and had enough late-night conversations that he knew when to tease and when to soothe. “He’ll take good care of your friend.”
“Yup.” I nodded, but my mind was already whirling, caring less about what Ezra might think about me and more about how to spin this to best benefit the business. “Set up the meeting. But make it clear I’ll be assigning the case to someone else.”
“Only if you can’t do it yourself…”
“Danny.” I gave him a stern stare. Cash might be his boyfriend now, but I was still his big brother, and I didn’t have to take him bossing me around.
“All right. All right. I’m setting up the meeting.” Danny already had his phone out, and by the time our burgers were ready, I had an address and a time to stop by.
“So much for having a day off,” I joked as I said goodbye. Given their flirty, long looks, they were probably happy for my early departure. Anything for more alone time together. And if my chest twinged at yet another reminder of their happiness, I worked hard to ignore it. This infatuation of theirs wouldn’t last. Romance never did. I’d watched my parents fail at relationships to the point of being gossip-blog punchlines, and I’d seen even committed SEAL buddies wind up heartbroken by messy breakups. I didn’t want what Danny and Cash had because it would only make me more bitter when it inevitably ended.
Or at least, that was what I told myself as I drove from Danny’s historic Hollywood Hills home to a nearby neighborhood of newer mansions all jockeying for canyon views, gleaming chrome and glass boxes, each more impressive than the last. Danny had said this was a rental for Ezra, but the per-night fee was probably more than most enlisted personnel made in a month.
Ezra’s place had at least a half-dozen balconies and a decent security setup with a gate across the steep driveway and high fencing. A younger smart-looking woman with red hair and hipster glasses answered the door, strains of distant music echoing in the entryway. She kept glancing down at her phone while listening to my explanation about why I was there.
“They’re in the back.” She gestured down a long tiled hallway which led to an open area, music getting louder as a collection of individuals came into view. A middle-aged guy on some kind of hand drum, a woman in her twenties on a flute, another of similar age on a keyboard, and an older dude playing bass. And Ezra.
Holding a guitar, he sat in the center of the room on a low stool, fading sunlight filtering in behind him like some sort of album cover. The golden rock god at home. I had a vague memory of meeting him years ago when he’d still been a kid on the TV show with Danny, but he was light years removed from the smart-mouth teen he’d played. And for all the stories Danny told about Ezra, nothing had prepared me for this adult version, every bit as captivating as those damn videos I tried so hard to avoid clicking on.
Danny liked to joke about his own “glow up,” but Ezra literally glowed, crackling with an energy that was all-grownup and dangerous as fuck. He was tall and lean with dark hair and eyes and pale skin, the kind that probably never tanned and added to his ethereal air.
His messy, too-long hair fell into his face, obscuring the haunting eyes that had launched thousands of crushes, but it was his voice that truly captivated me. He was singing an old ballad, made fresh by his one-of-a-kind voice.
I hung back, at first because I didn’t want to be rude, and then because I’d forgotten why I was there, all my attention on the singer and his song. Why did his voice have to be so damn compelling? The tension I’d had all day bled away, replaced by a languid warmth that spread to all my muscles. In fact, I was so relaxed that I missed the song ending until Ezra speared me with his platinum album-worthy gaze.
“Enjoy the show?” he asked with the barest hint of a smile, and my spine stiffened, brain coming back online. Business. I was there on business. And I needed to remember that no matter what his voice did to me.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open--no flashlights required! When she's not adding to her keeper shelf, she's a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.
Tough Luck #1
Hard Job #2
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