I like Darien more than Gunner—he’s more laid-back and doesn’t act as if he has a stick up his butt all the time—but he’s anal about certain things. Two weeks ago, we had a business meeting at the River Cafe, and after we finished eating, he collected all our dishes and stacked them on top of each other because he hates looking at messes. He curses like a sailor and wears his arrogance on his sleeve. I have three words to describe him: Tall. Dark. Handsome.

His hair is inky black, his skin is naturally golden, and his eyes are stormy gray. He isn’t wearing a tailored suit like he usually does at meetings. Today, he’s wearing a tight, white shirt that hides his six-pack and black denim jeans.

He’s happily married to Alana, Gunner’s sister. She’s supermodel-gorgeous and pregnant, due any day now. I would bet my whole paycheck their child will turn out so pretty she’ll be able to star in a Carter’s Clothing commercial.

“In his office.”

“He better hurry the fuck up, I have shit to do.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’ll wait if I want you to wait,” Gunner’s voice booms as he slams through the conference room door. The scent of cinnamon wafts through the air and is almost intoxicating. My heart tingles in my chest and something tugs deep inside my lower belly. Slowly, I scoot my chair away from his.

“In case you forgot, I have to meet with my very moody, pregnant wife at a birthing class.”

“Grow a pair and stop letting Alana boss you around,” Gunner says, resting his arms on the back of my plastic chair.

It’s funny to watch them banter like brothers. They have this whole weird bromance thing going on, but I have no idea how long they’ve known each other. I don’t remember Darien being one of Gunner’s friends back in college.

Darien’s eyes bounce between Gunner and me. Gunner shakes his head as if they’re having a silent conversation with each other.

What is happening here?

“She doesn’t,” Darien says.

“Sure,” Gunner says sarcastically. “Let’s get this over with.” He takes the chewed-on pen with the Underwood Banking logo from behind his ear and twirls it between his fingers. “Got any updates on American Banking?”

They bought the bank two years ago. Apparently, John, the previous owner, was dying, and the business was sinking, so he wanted to save it.

“The finances are a disaster; the previous CFO was embezzling money, so I had his ass thrown in jail. We have to take out thirty mil of our own to fund it.”