Chapter One
“TYLER, are you aware that all the girls at Sexy Sirens have nicknamed you Cockzilla?”
He laughed. That rich, deep sound Delaney Catalano hadn’t heard for two long years sang in the humid May air, making her heart clench. After all the trials and miles—and lately, the bullets—she never believed she’d hear Tyler Murphy’s familiar voice again. Certainly, she’d never imagined hearing it in BFE, Louisiana, as she hid in the shadows of his back patio like some sad stalker. She wasn’t at all surprised that a group of girls had given him a moniker about his sexual prowess. Women had always crawled all over him, and perpetually single Tyler liked it that way.
Once upon a time, his antics had made her laugh—until Delaney had experienced him for herself. To this day, she remembered exactly how good he’d been. She pushed the thought aside.
Peeking around the corner, she saw Tyler’s broad shoulders and upper back encased in a charcoal gray T-shirt. His blond hair had been cut brutally short, exposing the strong column of his sun-kissed neck. He lounged in a chair, his forearms looking bronzed, heavily veined, and vital under the patio lights. Around a table, he was surrounded by a virtual harem: two redheads, a platinum blonde, a Latina brunette, and an auburn-haired model type—each totally gorgeous.
Some things never change. Not that it should matter to her. He’d been her friend first and foremost. And he’d never been hers to lose.
“And that’s a bad nickname why?” Tyler returned to the stunning blonde beside him, lifting his bottle of beer to his mouth and taking a long swallow.
As the other women laughed, Delaney glanced over her shoulder, hoping like hell that she hadn’t been followed. She breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared that she was alone. How nice would it be if her most pressing problem were others’ opinions? How nice would it be if someone didn’t want her dead?
“Ladies . . .” the blonde’s voice warned. “This is not funny. Remember the plan?”
“Alyssa is right,” said the brunette with sinful curves. “We’re worried about you.”
“That’s very sweet, Kata, but acting like you care isn’t going to persuade me to watch another crappy Twilight movie with you.”
“You liked it,” Kata accused.
Tyler snorted. “You wish.”
He probably had liked it more than he wanted to admit. Tyler liked high-testosterone thrillers, but he’d admitted under the influence of Señor Cuervo that he kinda liked chick flicks, too. Once upon a time, he’d been Delaney’s buddy of choice to curl up on the couch with and rent movies, she remembered with a wistful smile. Then reality crashed back in.
“Focus.” Alyssa snapped. “This is an intervention. The girls and I all agree that you need help.”
“C’mon. I’m not a drug addict or an alcoholic. I’m no danger to myself or others.”
“Wrong. You’re dangerous to womankind,” the auburn-haired beauty cut in. “Can you make it a whole day without getting in some stripper’s thong? Our guess is no.”
Delaney grimaced. Yep, same old Tyler. He’d always liked women easy and flashy. One reason—among many—she’d never taken his flirting seriously. Then again, it wasn’t his flirting that had been her downfall.
“Ouch, Kimber. You wound me.” Tyler slapped a hand dramatically over his chest.
“Cut the crap,” she demanded. “You can’t make it a whole day, can you?”
“Sure, I could. But why torture myself? I have to do something to stave off the loneliness.”
“I don’t need any more catfights onstage about who’s getting Cockzilla tonight,” Alyssa chimed in again.
“No catfights at a strip club? You’re kidding me? Your patrons loved the action. Better than Jell-O wrestling. Got a rise out of me.”
The women in Tyler’s life were staging an intervention, and he wasn’t taking it seriously. Delaney wasn’t really surprised. He would always be Mr. Good-Time. What did surprise her, however, was that none of the women seemed to be fighting over him. Yet, anyway.
“Wait. Are you here to tell me that you’re suddenly available and want me all to yourself?” he challenged the gorgeous blonde. “You know I’m all over that.”
“We all know.” Another woman scoffed and waved her hand. “I haven’t known you that long, but seriously, a stiff wind could get a rise out of you.”
The lovely redhead with the sultry brown eyes wore a wedding ring. Then again, bands of gold had never stopped Tyler before. She ought to know.
“You noticed, Tara? I’m touched.”
“Don’t give me that,” Tara scolded. “Alyssa is being really serious. We all are.”
“Really? It’s not a joke?” With a sigh, Tyler turned back to the blonde. “Okay. What’s up, boss lady?”
“I can’t have girls fighting and quitting because you’re too busy playing musical beds,” Alyssa said. “Someone is going to lose every time, and it’s creating a fucking mess that I don’t have time to clean up. I hired Jessi to replace Krystal, who left because she didn’t like being last on your booty-call list. Tyler, Jessi has been with me for three days. Three! I found out this afternoon that you’ve already tapped that, more than once.”
He fidgeted in his seat. “After her first shift, she asked for an escort to her car. The parking lot was dark and empty. I helped her out.”
“By nailing her in the backseat?”
“There’s more room in a Civic than you’d think.”
“Tyler, I know you like to keep things light, but please be serious for a minute.” Alyssa’s voice rang with frustration. “Jessi came crying to me when she found you and Skylar in the dressing room last night after closing. Do I need to enact a strict no-anal-sex policy at the club?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt Jessi’s feelings. I thought she knew the score. I’ll talk to her.” He frowned. “I’m confused about one thing. I’ve bounced there for almost two years. What I do with the girls has never bothered you before. What is this really about?”
There was a long pause, and Delaney watched a few of the women lift glasses of wine and sip nervously.
The other redhead, the one with the baby bump, clutched a water bottle and shifted in the seat. “We think it’s time you settled down.”
“Morgan . . .” he warned. “Don’t try spreading your matrimonial joy on me. Just because you’re all blissful with your monogamy doesn’t mean I’m in any hurry to get there.”
So the redhead’s baby bump wasn’t his doing? Never mind. It’s irrelevant. Focus.
“You’re going to have to grow up,” Morgan pointed out.
Alyssa wagged a finger in his face. “Skylar just turned twenty-two. You’re, what, a decade older?”