Primal Instinct by Tara Wyatt

hung him upside down by his ankles. Ben squealed with laugher and tried to wriggle free.
    “Are you being good? Or are you a troublemaker?”
    “Mom says I’m a troublemaker like you,” he said, smiling upside down and revealing a missing front tooth.
    “You know what they do to troublemakers like us?” Colt asked, struggling to keep his expression serious. Ben shook his head, his light brown hair fanning out around him. “Tickle torture!” He laid Ben down on the ground and went to town, eliciting shrieks and giggles from him.
    “I’ll be good! I promise!” he gasped out between fits of giggles.
    “Dude, you caved so fast. You’re such a baby.” Ben’s eight-year-old brother, Nick, stood over them, his arms crossed.
    “No one can withstand my tickle torture.” Colt wiggled his eyebrows and let Ben up before he peed his pants.
    Lacey crouched down in front of Ben. “No hitting. You know the rules. If you’re upset, use your words. Next time, you’re in time-out. Got it?”
    Ben nodded. Nick smirked.
    “And you.” She wheeled on Nick. “Enough with the tattling. Now please, go play without killing each other.” She waved them away and they took off for the play set on the other side of the backyard. By the time they got there, Nick had Ben in a headlock. Almost immediately, they were wrestling.
    Lacey let out a long breath. “Boys. Only so much you can do, right?”
    Colt smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Pretty much. But they’re good kids, Lace.” She nodded and headed back into the house, a kitchen towel slung over her shoulder.
    And they were good kids, most of the time. He loved his nephews. Loved roughhousing with them, tossing a ball around, playing Legos, watching Star Wars and The Avengers with them, over and over again. He rubbed a hand over his chest, and reminded himself to be happy with what he had. To stop wasting time and energy pining over something that could never happen.
    Immediately, he thought of Taylor.
    She’d spent several hours at her studio yesterday, ignoring him while she worked on a new song. While she’d been working, her manager, Jeremy, had reappeared, and he and Colt had had a serious conversation about making sure Taylor behaved. No more trouble. Her focus needed to be on writing new music.
    At the end of the day yesterday, she’d tossed a casual “See ya, Priestley” over her shoulder and made for the door. Roman had come to pick her up and escort her home, where Colt would be joining them later. For the next few weeks, Colt and Roman would trade off on Taylor duty, never leaving her unattended. Thinking about it, he understood why she felt like a prisoner. Why she’d been so angry yesterday. He’d seen it—in her eyes, in the stiff set of her shoulders, in the jerkiness of her movements—but he hadn’t fully got it until he’d transferred her over to Roman’s care. They’d each set up in one of the guest rooms, trying to give Taylor as much space and privacy as possible while still making sure she was safe. Although considering she was her own biggest threat, the fact that her label had hired two professional bodyguards to babysit her was pretty damn insulting. But he was happy to be under the same roof, less than a hundred feet away.
    Roman was with her now, giving Colt the afternoon off so he could go to Lacey’s for a barbecue and some time with his nephews. Reaching into his back pocket, Colt fished his phone out, knowing that Roman would call if anything came up. A couple of texts, but no missed calls. He opened the texts and frowned. Both were from unknown numbers.
    What’s your favorite animal for playing?
    He swiped to the second message.
    Do you have more than one costume?
    Weird. Wrong numbers, maybe. At least there was nothing work related. He was free to enjoy his afternoon.
    “Hey, Colt. How are you?” His brother-in-law, Paul, wandered over from his position in front of the barbecue, a can of soda in each hand. He extended