Agent Worthington huffed and turned away. Leander leaned in. “There’s nothing illegal about getting a drink, Miss Sheppard, but that is a known place where outlaw bikers hang out. You don’t seem to keep good company.”

“I didn’t know anyone there except Zane.”

“Like I said, you don’t seem to keep good company, ma’am.” Leander sat perfectly still, almost unnervingly so. “If you didn’t know anyone, why did you go?”

Callie felt her eyes narrow. “I’ve answered that question for you, Agent Leander. I was thirsty.”

“Fine, we’ve established you were thirsty and can’t pick your friends. Let’s move on. What happened when you got to the establishment?”

She folded her hands in her lap and clenched them tightly. She was going to get through this little interview for Zane’s sake. “I ordered a drink and talked to Zane.”

“How do you know Zane Hollister?” Worthington stood over her, one foot on the bench, arm negligently across his knee. “Or were you just trying to pick up a date for the night?”

“Is this how you question a witness, Agent Worthington?” Nate’s deep voice cut through the condescension. Callie turned, and Nate strode toward her. He sat down beside her, his hand entwining with hers. He didn’t look at her but kept his eyes on the men across the table. “Ms. Sheppard is a witness, not a suspect. She’s also my girlfriend. I expect you to treat her with some modicum of respect.”

Leander sighed. “Sorry, Nate. I didn’t realize you brought a girl with you.”

“We thought she was some local piece Zane was doing.” Worthington snorted dismissively.

Glancing at Nate, she saw his eyes narrow and knew he was about to explode. She needed to avoid that. He wanted to go back to the DEA, and beating the crap out of a couple of agents wouldn’t help his case. It was time to start standing up for herself. A slow smile slid across her face. She wasn’t about to let these jerks intimidate her or make her feel bad about herself. She could do that all on her own.

She pulled her hand out of Nate’s. “I am local, gentlemen. And I’m definitely doing Zane.”

She felt Nate stiffen beside her. At least he wasn’t thinking about punching the agents now. Her heart thudded dully in her chest when she realized his face had turned a bright red, and he wasn’t trying to hold onto her anymore. This was what a relationship would be like with Nate. He would always be ashamed of what they were.

“I thought you said she was your girlfriend.” Leander was talking to Nate but stared straight through Callie.

Callie shrugged. It didn’t matter what they thought of her. She just wanted Nate to get out of this with his pride intact. She loved him. She couldn’t put him through this type of relationship. Zane could handle it, if he really wanted to. Nate would never be able to live the way a threesome required, and she couldn’t live the life he wanted. “I’m his friend, and I’m a girl. That’s just the way we talk out here in the country. I’m not Zane’s girlfriend, either. I only saw him a couple of times. I’m the Sheriff’s admin. I run the office.”

“I bet you do.” That came from Worthington. His sunglasses were off. He stared openly at her.

Then he was staring at Nate’s enraged face. He pushed his body away from the table and was in the other agent’s space with the inherent grace of a predator. “You back the fuck off. She is my girlfriend, and she is Zane’s girlfriend. It isn’t a friendly relationship. Get it? And neither one of us is going to allow you to treat her with disrespect.”

Worthington pulled back and held his hands up. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize you and Hollister were…like that.”

Nate hauled her up. Callie stumbled and held on to his waist to stop from falling. Nate’s arm slid under her shoulder and pulled her close. “Yeah, well we are, and it’s really none of your business. You just find a way to get this bounty off Zane’s head.”

Leander stood. He put a hand on his partner, neatly separating the men. His handsome face was all smooth and conciliatory. “Whoa, Nate, man, we didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just a surprise. Of course, we’ll do our best for Hollister.” He nodded Callie’s way. “Ma’am, I apologize for the misunderstanding. We’ll go now, but if you can think of anything that might help, give us a call.”

Worthington backed off with a little shake of his head, and the agents retreated through the community’s heavy gates. Nate stared as they walked away.

“Why did you do that? I can handle them, Nate.” Callie took a step back.

He turned and looked a bit startled. “Why should you have to handle them? They were being jerks. I knew they never liked Zane, but I didn’t think they would be such pricks where a woman was concerned.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t to a woman they considered a lady,” Callie explained. “But I’m just a country girl. We’re good for a quick lay and not a lot else.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d come up against the type. She’d had more than her share of handsy tourists who thought she should be thrilled they were willing to give her a whirl.

Nate’s jaw tightened. He forced her to look up into his face. “Is that what you think of me?”

She shook her head. Nate wasn’t like that, but their problems were unworkable all the same. “I know I’m not an easy lay for you.”

“Damn straight. You’ve actually been really difficult, Callie.” His face softened, and he leaned over, brushing his lips sweetly against hers. The sensation made her heart clench. It took everything she had not to wind her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. Nate pulled back, his face wary and a little disappointed. “I love you, Callie. I won’t let anyone put you down.”

And they would in his world, Callie knew. Unless she was willing to change everything about herself, she would be an albatross around his neck. “It’s okay, Nate. It didn’t bother me. So they’re going to figure out who’s after Zane?”

It was time for a change of subject. She turned from the picnic table and began walking back toward the lawn.

Nate looked like he wanted to argue but finally went with her. “We know who wants Zane. We just don’t know why, beyond revenge. If Ellis just wanted him dead, he could hire a killer. I don’t understand the game he’s playing. I know Ellis. I worked with him for years. He’s a bastard but a straightforward one. If he wanted Zane dead, someone would have shot him.”

“Is it a tradition in that club of his to take a trophy?” She shuddered at the thought of someone carving up Zane’s body to prove he was dead. It was a horrible thought, but these were criminals.

“Not that I’ve heard of. The only trophy these guys are interested in is money. This is a business, sweetheart. They can be brutal men, but I’ve never heard of taking someone’s tat.”

Callie thought of the elaborate tattoo on Zane’s chest. It was a work of art covering his entire left pectoral muscle. There was a fierce snake at the center with flames weaving around it. The multi-colored design must have taken hours and hours to impress on Zane’s skin. Her gut twisted at the thought of Zane dying for that damn tattoo. “Are they any good? Those agents, I mean.”

He stopped and took her right hand in both of his. “Baby, I know I haven’t given you a reason to believe me, but I promise it’s going to be okay. I’m not going to let them kill Zane, and I won’t let them hurt you. Leander and Worthington are real movers in the agency. They can bring other people together. They’ll find out the information we need. This was a big case, Callie. We locked up the bad guy, but we didn’t find all the money. The DEA still has people looking for Ellis’s accounts. Besides, Zane used to be an agent. You have to understand that cops take care of their own.”

Callie didn’t think they had seemed very caring. They had been downright rude when talking about Zane. But she had to trust that Nate knew what he was doing. “All right. Let’s go see if Zane’s settling in.”

“Zane’s gone fucking insane, that’s what he’s done.” Nate shook his head and suddenly his whole face flushed. “Oh, shit. They think I’m sleeping with Zane.”

Callie smiled, with real amusement this time. She thought he’d misunderstood portions of the previous conversation, but she hadn’t been about to point it out. “If it helps, I think he thinks you’re sleeping with me, too.”

“Damn it, I am sleeping with you. But this is a perfectly straight threesome. There is nothing weird about it at all. It’s a normal threesome. Well, it’s a normal twosome, and then there’s Zane.”

Callie got her first look at Zane. He stood on the lawn with a group of six other men. His arm came back and then pitched forward, a silver horseshow flying through the air and perfectly circling the stake ten feet away. He nodded with satisfaction and shook Bill Hartman’s hand before ceding his turn. He, like all the men around him jovially playing the game, was completely naked.

“He’s trying to fit in.” Nate’s lips curled up, and he obviously was stifling a laugh.

Fit in? Callie looked at the men around Zane. Despite the fantasy of a nudist resort, the truth was it was mostly middle-aged men and women. Six foot five inch Zane had at least three inches on the next tallest man who, like most of his friends, sported a pot belly and a body gone mostly soft. There was absolutely nothing soft on Zane. He stretched unselfconsciously as he watched the other man pitch a horseshoe. He laughed at something, his head thrown back, all that black hair shaking. He was broad shouldered and lean waisted. He had a six-pack that made her eyes widen, and his ass was one of the most perfect things she’d ever seen. Even completely relaxed, his cock swung in a…Callie had to take a deep breath. “He’s never going to fit in. He’s so obviously meant to stand out.”

Nate frowned at her. “Like what you see, huh? Fine. He’s not the only one who looks good. I work out.” Nate started to pull at the buttons on his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Callie grinned as she watched Nate took his clothes off. She wanted to laugh out loud, but she wouldn’t do anything that made him stop and think. Nate was running on emotion, and it was a lovely thing. He quickly unveiled his own hot body. It was different from Zane’s, but just as gorgeous as the other man’s. He was powerfully muscled with big arms, and every muscle looked like some artist had carefully sculpted it with beauty in mind. She longed to run her hands over the smooth skin covering his body.

“I can fit in, too, damn it.” He made his declaration with the same look of determination she’d seen when he talked about his plans for the future.

He kicked his boots off and strode arrogantly over to join the game. Callie noticed Bill’s surprised expression when Nate walked up and asked if he could give it try. Bill shook Nate’s hand, and Zane said something that had Nate promising vengeance.

Gina Winters, a forty-something friend of Callie’s, walked up to stand beside her. She was a pretty redhead. Her eyes flared as she looked at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my. When did the boy toys show up?”

An insane sense of satisfaction spread through Callie. “They’re with me.”

“Really?”

They were. At least for now. If she only had a few days with them, why shouldn’t she enjoy it? Callie tugged her T-shirt over her head and toed out of her shoes. “Yes, really. Those are my boy toys, Gina. And I don’t share.”

She didn’t. She didn’t share. It was a freeing revelation. Callie Sheppard had two men, and she wasn’t sharing them.

* * *

He was naked. He was naked and holding a horseshoe. Nate took a deep breath. He eyed the stake and let his arm flow back. He could do this. It was the same game, despite the fact that his junk was hanging out for all to see.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it felt kind of nice. It was different. The air felt different on his skin, softer but strangely crisper. He was more aware without the encumbrance of clothes.

His arm pitched forward, and he released the horseshoe. He’d never actually done this before, and he was horrible at it. He didn’t even get close. The horseshoe landed in the grass with a thud. Nate frowned.

“Don’t.”

He turned to Zane. “Don’t what?”

Zane put a hand on his hip. It was weird. Everyone was naked. “Don’t be an asshole. It’s just a game. You can’t be good at everything."

But he was supposed to be, a little voice inside him said. Sometimes that voice wasn’t so little. Sometimes that voice was a roar telling him that he wasn’t good enough, and he had to do better. God, what would his father think of him now? He was standing in the middle of a nudists’ colony, with his dick hanging out, playing horseshoes. “It’s all about practice.”