1 Chapter 1

It was a steamy, hot day in South Carolina, even for late April. After a long day of work, Donavan watched the last of the sun’s rays leave the sky. His short, shaggy blond hair blew in the light breeze coming up from Surfside Beach, and his deep blue eyes scanned the remaining beach goers as they walked to their cars at the end of another beautiful day.

Matty, his roommate and best friend, stared past Van’s shoulder towards Bare Knuckles Bar, which was across the street from where they were parked. He whistled low at some of the women entering the bar. “Holy shit, Van. These babes get hotter and hotter every fucking summer.”

Rolling his eyes, Van continued to scope the area. No, he was looking for something else. This was Van’s favorite part of the day, when the bikes came out and riders, who were hot as fuck, rode up Main Street before finding a local watering hole to play some pool, darts, and drink until closing time. Since it was Friday, he was in the mood to partake.

“Dude, did you hear me?” Looking exasperated, Matty waved his hand in front of Van’s face.

Van noticed him for the first time, a badass hulk of a man kicking his leg over his Harley Rebel. The man had to be at least six and a half feet tall. He had long, dirty-blond hair hanging past the collar on his leather vest. He wore faded blue jeans, black combat boots, and had a wallet with a chain attached hanging from his back pocket. Under his vest, he wore a skin-tight, plain black T-shirt.

Man, the guy was drool-worthy and just Van’s type.

At twenty-five, Van still had some partying left in him, but he also wanted something more than a one-night stand with a complete stranger, having been there and done that too many times to count. He wanted what his brother Gabe had, although Gabe was now pushing thirty and had graduated from law school. His brother was obviously the more responsible son in the family. Van wanted that special someone to come home to, instead of just his best friend from high school.

Walking to the bed of his truck to grab Van’s shirt, Van and Matty scoped out the vacant lot across from Bare Knuckles. Their construction business had been booming this year, so they thought they would branch out and start flipping old buildings. Making a profit was always a gamble, but they were good. They could only hope it would pay off. They’d gone into business together after high school, and Van studied for his architecture degree at night.

“Dude, we heading home or playing a little pool with the locals?” Matty asked, wagging his eyebrows and looking like a total schmuck.

Van laughed. Everybody loved Matty. He took life by the balls, and he was as loyal as they came. He was a good friend.

Matty knew of Van’s preferences for men. It never mattered, and he never got weird or had been anything less than supportive. Van was lucky because his whole family had taken it in stride, along with him not wanting to go to law school or follow Gabe’s and their father’s footsteps. They knew he needed space, and they all just wanted him to be happy. He wasn’t a nine-to-five type of guy. He liked working with his hands and being outdoors. Not stuck inside all day.

“Yeah, let’s have some beers and chill, man.”

Van grabbed his wallet from the glove box of his pride and joy, his brand-new Chevy Silverado quad cab with every bell and whistle, which was black with silver trim. He loved his truck. His family didn’t have a ton of money when he was growing up, so when he could finally afford his own wheels, he went all out. Matty had an old, beat-up Ford, although he loved riding in luxury when it was Van’s turn to drive.

Matty was tighter than a bull’s ass when it came to money, having an “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” philosophy, especially when it came to his old junker.

As they crossed the street, the badass on the bike stretched his arms over his head, twisting this way and that, like he’d rode hard and needed to move around. He pulled off the sexy, tight T-shirt and grabbed a fresh one from his bag. An intricate tattoo rose from his waistline, spreading across his rib cage and slightly over his rock-hard chest. It fascinated Van and made his mouth water.

Jesus, how great would it be to see that up close and personal?

A horn blew from an irate driver, jolting Van back to reality. Waving to the motorist in apology, Van picked up the pace.