Molly slipped her arm through her sister’s and said, just as softly. “I’ll take the golden boy right next to him. Forever and ever.” Kevin Tucker, tan and fit, had hazel eyes and a star-kissed talent that had earned him two Super Bowl rings, but he still told people the night he’d mistaken Molly for a burglar was the luckiest night of his life.

“I’ll take that righteous brother with the soulful eyes and smile that melts my heart.” Krystal pointed toward Webster Greer, the second largest of the men standing by the flames. “As mad as he makes me, I’d marry him again tomorrow.”

Charmaine gazed toward the largest and most menacing of the gods. Darnell Pruitt had left his silk shirt unbuttoned to the waist, revealing a brawny chest and a trio of gold chains. As the firelight turned his skin to polished ebony, he looked like an ancient African king. She pressed her fingertips to the base of her throat. “I still don’t quite understand it. He should terrify me.”

“Instead, it’s the other way around.” Janine’s smile held a trace of longing. “Somebody lend me one of them. Just for the night.”

“Not mine,” Sharon said. The fact that Ron McDermitt was the smallest man around the fire and a self-proclaimed geek didn’t dim his sexual megawattage one bit, not when the right pair of sunglasses turned him into a ringer for Tom Cruise.

One by one, the women’s gazes fell on Heath. Lithe, square-jawed, his crisp brown hair dusted with gold from the fire, he stood in the exact center of this elite group of warriors, both one of them and somehow set apart. He was younger, and his battle-hardened edges had been honed at the negotiating table instead of on the gridiron, but that didn’t make him any less commanding. This was a man to be reckoned with.

“Spooky how he fits right in,” Molly observed.

“It’s the favorite trick of the undead,” Phoebe said tartly. “Shape-shifters transform themselves into whatever people want to see.”

Annabelle suppressed a powerful urge to defend him.

“Harvard brains, GQ polish, and country boy charm,” Charmaine said. “That’s why the young guys want to sign with him.”

Phoebe tapped the toe of her sneaker against the dock. “There’s only one good use for a man like Heath Champion.”

“Here we go again,” Molly muttered.

Phoebe’s lip curled. “Target practice.”

“Stop it!” Annabelle rounded on her.

They all stared. Annabelle unclenched her hands and tried to retrench. “What I mean is…I mean…If a man said something like that about a woman, people would throw him in jail. So, I don’t…you know…think maybe a woman should say it about a man.”

Phoebe seemed fascinated by Annabelle’s rebuke. “The Python has a champion.”

“I’m just saying,” Annabelle murmured.

“She has a point.” Krystal began walking toward the beach. “It’s hard to raise male children with good self-esteem. That kind of thing doesn’t help.”

“You’re right.” Phoebe slipped her arm around Annabelle’s waist. “I’m the mother of a son, and I should know better. I’m just…a little uneasy. I’ve had so much more experience with Heath than you.”