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“I know.” I gave a quick wave and closed my laptop.

I glanced at myself in the mirror across the room.

I looked worn out. The creases around my eyes seemed to have deepened overnight.

I lost the woman I loved for the second time in my life.

But now I knew we have a son, and I would move Heaven and Earth to find him.

I just needed to do it before his grand-cartels did.

My phone buzzed.

C: ETA two mins

I grabbed my room key and headed downstairs to the lobby to meet the team.

Holy Spirit Parish was sprawled across the side of the white van that looked to be on its last legs.

I swore it wheezed as it came to a stop in front of the hotel.

Mark jumped out first, and I pressed my lips together as the rest followed.

They looked like a group from a Florida senior citizen home out on a day trip.

I eyed Mark’s white boat shoes, pastel pink shorts, green button-up shirt, and cream fedora and had to squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t laugh out loud.

“Paul!” Mark slapped me on the shoulder, looked around, then took a deep breath of sea air. “If I start talking about early bird specials in front of the staff, I’m pretty sure I’ll get a free dessert.” Mark lived for his tummy. It was just another scar from his past which we all understood.

John, who looked exhausted in his equally awful pastel outfit, shook his head at me. “Four hours in a cramped van, that’s a lot of Mark.” I chuckled and nodded in sympathy.

“A church van, hey?” I asked as Cole came around to join us. “Forget I asked.”

“We need to blend,” he grunted as Mark ran his finger along the brim of his fedora, feeling every inch of his new look. “For the record, the outfits were not my idea.”

“You sure about that?” I teased and mentally made a note. Savannah was going to get a kick out of that one. Cole’s white cotton pants and green palm tree shirt were finished off with a shell necklace. Nice touch.

“I’m pretty sure I’m one confession away from a sainthood endorsement.” Mark grinned, owning everything about his outfit.

Mike tossed his bag over his shoulder while he puffed away on a fat cigar. “Not too shabby.” He nodded at the hotel.

“You guys’ll certainly liven it up.” I smirked at how his tattoos clashed with his matching yellow pants, shirt, and shoes. I looked around for Keith. He was still inside the van’s open door. He seemed to hesitate to step out, and I soon saw why.

“Oh, shit.” I covered my mouth as he eased out in a pair of green cotton capri pants that showed his lily-white ankles above canvas sneakers. His pink polo had white alligators all over it, and he wore a rope bracelet.

“Not one fucking word.” He pointed at me. “Not one.”

“Some of us embraced the undercover look, and some of us did not.” Mark pointed at Keith and made a face.

“Watch your back, Lopez,” Keith snarled as he rushed past.

Mark grinned at me, clearly enjoying every damn second of it. “He’s just grumpy he didn’t get your outfit.” He handed me a bag, and I dropped it in horror like it might bite me. “The colors will compliment your skin tone.” He winked and tossed his head then joined the others at the front desk.

There was no fucking way I was wearing whatever was in there. I glanced at Cole for help, but he signed for me to go change. I flipped him the bird but did what he said.

“Welcome to the holy party!” Mark cheered as I joined them at the pool a few minutes later, dressed in what the little shit brought me. At least I appeared the complete opposite of how I looked when I played the part of Eric Noah for ten years undercover with the Cartel.

I had caught my reflection in the windows as I strolled toward them. Keith rolled his eyes as jealousy radiated off him.

“I call it hot nights in Miami.” Mark grinned at my blue loafers, white cotton pants, and blue shirt that buttoned only halfway up.

My exposed chest was decorated with a massive cross that had fake crystals down the center.

The pants left nothing to the imagination.

I let out a huff. I’d gone from a Cartel badass, to Agent Paul, to Mike Lowrey in Bad Boys . Fuck me, I missed Montana.

Keith glared at Mark. “Explain to me why he gets to look like Mike Lowrey, and I have to look like Captain Pantoliano.”

“You have great ankles,” Mark tried to explain with a straight face but dodged behind John when Keith went to punch him. He stuck his head out. “We’re all jealous of your ankles.”

“I’ll get us a round.” I turned on my heel and headed for the bar.

“Four pitchers of whatever you have on tap, por favor ,” I ordered and jotted down my room number to be billed.

I felt a sense of ease settle over me now that the guys had arrived, minus the ridiculous outfits.

I’d never admit it out loud, but Mark always brought much-needed humor to otherwise dark situations.

He was needed in a world like ours, and after the life he’d been dealt in the start, it always gave me hope that no matter what we had to endure, we’d be fine when we came out the other end.

“Damn.” Nicole stepped up next to me and dropped her purse and duffle bag at her feet. I wondered where she was off to next. “When did Boca Breeze Retirement Home recruit you?”

“Funny.” I laughed into the glass the bartender handed me as he poured beer into the pitchers. “It’s a long story.”

“And I bet it’s a good one.” She waited for the bartender to look over at her. “Mai Tai, please.”

On cue, Mark arrived with his shit eating grin. I looked at John for help, but he shrugged. I knew he’d enjoy a Lopez shitstorm.

“Ah, yes, the famous Nicole Winter,” Mark purred and batted his long lashes like a teenager in heat. “I heard you met my buddy.”

“Met would imply I knew his name.” Nicole tossed me a scowl but then smiled warmly at Mark. “Nice to meet you…?” She waited for his name.

“Mark.” I glanced at Cole, who gave me a nod that it was all right that she knew our real names.

“I must say, Mark, your outfit is rather fetching,” she teased, and he gave me a proud smile.

“Don’t encourage,” I muttered.

“Did you like my nifty fanny pack?” He dragged the zipper along the tropical print pouch and pulled out a ChapStick.

“So help me, God, if you put that on…” I warned, and he rolled his eyes and zipped it closed.

She stuck her straw between her lips and drew the orange liquid into her mouth. “Is he always this grumpy?”

“Nah, it’s just an act.” I laughed, and Mark waved. “Get a few drinks in him and he’ll ease up.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She smirked around her straw.

Mark grabbed two pitchers off the bar. “Come join us.”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure if I should.”

“Don’t you want to know how we know you?”

“Let me guess,” she chuckled, “from TV?”

“Nope.” He walked backward with a grin toward the guys’ table. She bit her lip and suddenly looked a bit uneasy.

I shook my head as Mark put the beer on the table for the guys. I knew he wanted to know what she knew, if anything. I was equally interested, and I still wasn’t convinced she hadn’t been following me.