“Make sure you don’t use too much heavy cream for the filling,” Camden said, focused on whatever he was mixing in a bowl. “As you can see, I’m using one cup. Because I don’t want the flavor of the smoked honey glaze to disappear—motherfucker. I forgot the mustard. Clara, can you get a close-up of the filling? I gotta get the mustard.”

I had a problem. He disappeared from the screen for five damn seconds, and it was enough to make me impatient for his return. Some bastards obsessed over porn; I obsessed over cooking tutorials.

It was like reading a great book series and getting attached to the characters, only these were real people. It was a real guy who had charmed the fuck out of me with his impish grins, shaggy, nearly black hair that always got in his clear blue eyes. And his mouth…and how he used it.

A detox was what I needed.

Maybe that was another marketing strategy. Viewers were often asking them to make videos together, and I could admit it was one of the reasons I kept tuning in every week. Camden was the little clown, the comic relief, and King was plain strength and grace. And the warmth. Couldn’t forget that. From the Southern drawl and hazel eyes to the kind smiles and ever-present tan. Camden’s accent betrayed his heritage. He was from the East Coast. Maybe even New York. August King looked like he’d been born on their ranch and worked there all his life. Manual labor had formed his body, not a gym. Sleek muscles, broad shoulders, silver in his hair—

“Detox,” I snapped under my breath, momentarily repulsed by my fixation.

I closed the video and tossed my phone on the table, then folded my arms over my chest and glared at nothing.

I shook my head.

This wasn’t fucking healthy.

I needed a life.

I…I needed to look up gay bars in Nashville. I needed to be out there, not holed up in my home, living like a senior citizen.

Chapter 2

Wanted Man

As soon as the first song ended, Luiz started counting us in on the hi-hat. Sylvia was quick on the synthesizer, generating a wailing sound through the crowd, and once Luiz kicked it up with a galloping beat on the drums, everyone came to life.

“Evening, Nashville, you feelin’ all right?” I spoke into the mic as we kept raising the tempo, and the audience got loud—it was an unforgettable sound that shot energy straight into our veins. I grinned and looked down at the strings. “That’s enough talking.” I gave Nicky a quick nod. “One, two, three, four!”

I sang of how good the world looked from where I was standing, and it was true, wasn’t it? Everything that had happened… Even with the uncertainties we were facing, life was invigorating.

Come and get me.