He never expected to feel this kind of heat again…

FBI agent Ollie McKee is burned out on relationships. After a head-spinningly on-again/off-again relationship with his former fiancée, he’s been out of the dating pool for years. Now he’s focused on his career—and it’s getting more intense. Because Ollie’s ex was just kidnapped, and despite the rules, he’s resolved to work the case and find her.

Stark Security agent Trevor Barone knows better than to fall for a friend, especially one who’s straight. But there’s no denying the way his heart and body react around Ollie, especially after the last quick mission they worked together. He swore to himself to keep his distance. But now Ollie’s begging for his help. The woman he once loved—maybe still loves—has been kidnapped, and Ollie’s determined to bring her home alive. Trevor’s not about to let his friend down, but as they work the case together, the attraction and connection between them can’t be denied.

When the kidnappers turn deadly, Ollie and Trevor put their lives in each other’s hands. But can they trust the passion that threatens to consume them both?

Excerpt: Tangled With You

He was alone with Trevor.

He was alone with Trevor.

He shoved his free hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Sorry,” Trevor said.

“What? Sorry? Why?”

He nodded toward the glasses in Ollie’s hand, then at the cookies and whiskey that Nikki had left on the ledge in front of the fireplace. “I think I interrupted family time.”

“What? No. They were just in the neighborhood. Stopped by to see my progress.”

“Just like me.”

“Yeah,” Ollie said. “Just like you.”

Except not. Really, really not.

“Except not really,” Trevor said, and it was a good thing Ollie hadn’t yet poured and sipped the whiskey, because right then, he would have spit it out from shock.

“Not? What do you mean, not?” And when had his voice gotten high and squeaky? He was losing it. He might as well just melt into his brand-new teak flooring and be done with it.

If Trevor noticed that Ollie had turned into a blithering mess, he didn’t show it. He simply moved closer and took the glasses from Ollie, leaving Ollie with nothing left to clutch like a security blanket. “Just that I came to help, not simply to check out how much you’ve done.”

He crossed to the hearth and put the glasses down next to where Nikki had left the whiskey. “What do you say?” He opened the bottle without waiting for Ollie to reply, then poured them each a shot. “Shall we pick up a couple of brushes and knock out this wall. It’s going to look incredible in that blue.”

He returned, handed Ollie his glass, and remained standing just a little too close for comfort.

Ollie took a sip, then stepped back, hoping to find the air breathable again.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, trying to remember Trevor’s last words. “I mean, yeah. I think the color’s going to really make the room.” He wanted to head-thwap himself, if only to knock his thoughts back into alignment and banish any errant fantasies to the deep, dark recesses of his mind where they belonged.

Except why did they belong there? Why couldn’t those fantasies be front and center?

Because Trevor was a friend. And Ollie didn’t want to take a false step and screw up a friendship.

A statement that was one hundred percent true. And not the real reason at all.

The truth was, Ollie was pretty damn certain that Trevor wanted more than just friendship. They may have started out that way—even despite Ollie’s disconcerting initial jolt of attraction—but then Ollie noticed that Trev had started touching him from time to time. Nothing major. A hand on the shoulder as they waited in line for a movie. A tap on the arm while they chatted at a bar. Casual touches. Subtle.

At first, Ollie only noticed the touches. Then he’d craved them.

Dammit, he truly had wanted—no, did want—more.

And the only reason he wasn’t going for it was that he was a hypocritical, fucking coward.

“—just go?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

The corner of Trev’s mouth curved up, revealing a small dimple. “I said that if you’d rather, I can just go. You seem a little distracted. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, it’s okay.” Ollie gave himself a swift mental kick in the ass. “I am distracted. The air-conditioner,” he lied. “I was thinking about something Jamie said right before you got here. That I need to get that thing fixed before we’re into full-on summer.”

“In that case, I’ll take a look at it later. Might have some ideas. And in the meantime, we can paint or we can eat the pizza while it’s hot. Sausage and pineapple pizza plus whiskey? Does it get better than that?”

Ollie made a show of crouching in front of the box, lifting the lid, and making a face. “I’m thinking it does.”

“Not a fan of pineapple pizza?”

“Hey, I’m not one to turn down a free pizza. And I’ll try anything once.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could call them back. But Trevor didn’t jump on the opening, and for that, Ollie was grateful. “Let’s blow off painting,” he finally said. “I’m done with work for the day. But I can get behind pizza on the balcony.”

Trevor grinned. “Folks, we have a winner.”