Looking at the women I decided there was another, more obvious reason the Nightingale Boys hung out at Fortnum’s.

Even though it was well in the afternoon, way past coffee time, there were three customers waiting to give their order, two waiting for pick up and a scattering of customers in the seating area.

“Fuckin’ A, turkey!” the big man behind the espresso counter boomed looking extremely pleased and, for some reason, he pointed at the Harley man.

I ignored their bizarre behavior and did another scan of the room.

That’s when I saw, in the corner next to the espresso counter, Roam and Sniff sitting at a table trying to look inconspicuous even though they were of the age where they should be at school and they were wearing homey clothes.

I stalked up to them. “Let’s go,” I ordered.

“Law,” Roam replied, just that but it was enough.

“Up! Now!” I snapped.

“Law, no one’s even come in yet,” Sniff told me.

I turned to Sniff, not knowing what he was on about and not caring. “I’ve been worried sick and driving all over Denver looking for you two. We need to have a talk. We’re going back to King’s. Get up. Let’s go,” I repeated.

They looked at each other and didn’t move.

I put my hands on my hips. “Boys.” My tone held a warning.

“Law. We been waitin’ forever,” Sniff said.

Roam was silent.

“For what?” I asked.

“One of the boys to come in. Any of ‘em,” Sniff told me.

Roam sat back in his chair and threw Sniff a “shut up” look.

I leaned in. “I cannot believe this,” I snapped and shook my head because I really couldn’t. “Which one of you started the rumor about last night?” I asked.

Sniff went silent and I got my answer.

“So, you’re sitting around waiting for one of the Nightingale Boys to show up, is that it?” I went on.

“Wanna talk to Crowe,” Roam finally spoke.

I opened my mouth to reply, or maybe yell (okay, probably yell) but I was interrupted.

“Hey woman,” the big guy behind the espresso counter boomed at me and I looked at him, “you wanna latte? I’ll make you my special. On the house.”

His generosity was a surprise and I looked around the room again.

Most of the customers from around the espresso counter had cleared; the rest of the folks who looked like regulars were all watching me openly and grinning like lunatics. I didn’t want to upset the lunatic asylum and didn’t know how it’d look if I waltzed in, yelled at a couple of runaways and didn’t buy a coffee.

So I said to the big man, “Sure.”

“I’m Tex,” he informed me, even though I didn’t ask, and he started banging on the espresso machine in an alarming way.

“I’m Jules,” I replied because I didn’t want to appear rude.

“She’s called Law,” Sniff declared loudly.

Oh crap.

“Law?” The blonde behind the espresso counter walked to our side and looked at us, smiling. Her smile was amazing and, for a second, I was dazzled.

“Yeah. She’s Law. Street name. Got it ‘cause she’s The Law. Gonna bring down all the dealers. She goes out huntin’ ‘em down at night, just like Batman,” Sniff announced.

“Enough, Sniff,” I said, my voice low.

The blonde’s eyes turned to me. They’d grown round.

In fact, the whole place had gone silent and there was a tremor in the air that was almost physical.

Then the big man pointed at me and boomed, “Fuckin’ A, darlin’!” Then he threw his head back and shouted, “Yee ha!”

Yikes.

Indy, the blonde and the Dolly Parton lady had approached us.

“Seriously?” the blonde from the book counter asked, staring at me.

I glared at Sniff.

“I’m Indy.” The redhead came up to me and shook my hand, saving me from having to answer.

“Jet,” the blonde behind the espresso counter said and waved.

“I’m Roxie,” the blonde from the book counter put in, she shook my hand too.

“Daisy. Sugar, I like your boots,” the Dolly Parton woman offered, also shaking my hand but she was looking down at my shiny, black cowboy boots. They were a Christmas present from Nick the year before.

“Me too,” Indy said, “they’re the shit.”

“Um… thanks,” I replied as the bell over the door went.

“Holy f**k,” Roam breathed from behind me.

I twisted to look at him but he was staring, eyes wide, at the door. Slowly I turned around to the door, feelings of dread seeping through me.

Three men had walked in and at the sight of them my breath left me in a whoosh.

All tall, all dark, one looked like the All-American boy gone wrong but in a good way (a very good way). Another had close-clipped black hair and killer facial hair, his mustache trimmed to razor sharpness down the sides of his mouth. If it had been on anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous but on him it was quite simply hot. The last was taller than the other two (which meant he was seriously tall). He had coloring and eyes that I knew, from the stories I’d heard about him, were from his Hawaiian ancestry. They all had fantastic bodies clearly noticeable under their clothes and they all looked like the badass mothers I knew them to be.

These men were Lee Nightingale, Luke Stark and Kai “Mace” Mason, in that order.

“God dammit,” I muttered under my breath.

They approached and instinctively I moved in front of the boys.

All of their eyes were on me and they noticed my movement. One side of Stark’s lips went up in a sexy half-grin, Nightingale’s eyes crinkled at the corners and Mace smiled flat out.

They thought I was some silly woman, the jerks. My back went straight and my chin went up.

“Law,” Nightingale said when he arrived at our group.

“Shit, Law. He knows who you are!” Sniff piped up behind me, his voice filled with excitement.

“Quiet, Sniff,” I said, not taking my eyes from Nightingale.

“You got business here?” Stark asked, positioning himself beside Roxie and telling me not so subtly that I didn’t have business there.

“I’ve just come to get my boys,” I assured Stark. Then, eyes still on Stark, I said to Roam and Sniff, “Let’s go guys.”