Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“I take it your Aunt Titi isn’t someone I want to meet?”
“No, not at all. The worst. Hope you never cross paths.”
We started to laugh, reaching the bar and each asking for gin and tonics.
It was just us at the bar, and everyone else seemed lost in conversation, the melodic voice of a popstress crooning over her generic party ballad sounded from the speaker nearby.
My eyes settled on Jonah. On his lips, in particular. I had managed to sneak a kiss from him earlier, before the party started, and now I wanted more. Jonah looked so good tonight. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d be intimidated by the man who was leaning on the bar with an effortless cool he didn’t even realize he possessed.
He was wearing a dark brown shirt, sleeves rolled up, the bottom hem tucked into a pair of white pants that had me drooling all fucking night. His hair was freshly cut, and his eyes were lit up by the blinking fairy lights above us.
Kiss him. Just fucking kiss him.
“Hey, guys.”
Angel Medina appeared as if out of the shadows, leaning on the bar and asking for a vodka cranberry before turning to me, a smile on his tanned face. “Great party, huh?”
29 Jonah Brightly
God, I had wanted to kiss Fox so damn bad. I had been so lost, looking up at those sexy lips of his, I didn’t realize Angel had crept up on us.
Angel was the detective I knew least about at Stonewall. Everyone else was more than open and friendly, welcoming me into the family even though we were all relatively new. I was still the newest addition, so I did feel a little like the baby of the group.
But Angel was a hard nut to crack. He didn’t open up to me as easily as the others. I still knew barely anything about him, except that he could work as an Enrique Iglesias impersonator and make a really good living from it.
And that was something I could pick up from looking at him. Anything else that required actually talking to him? Forget about it. You were better off getting to know a vaguely human-face-shaped rock before you could even figure out where Angel was raised.
Still, he was nice in the rare moments we did sit down and chat, and he was also closing cases left and right, so he was a great detective if not a very personable one.
Fox really liked him, though. Said he needed a little more time than most to open up, and once he did, he was a hell of a guy. And apparently really funny, too.
I wouldn’t know—right now he was just really great at cockblocking.
That’s fine. I’ll have Fox all to myself later.
My pulse quickened thinking about it, my dick twitching in my jockstrap. I had plans for later, but first we had to get through this party without somehow tearing off each other’s clothes.
I was about to ask Angel some benign question about the weather, to get my mind off how badly I wanted Fox right now, but turned out we were all about to get a big distraction in the late arrival of the two guests of honor for tonight’s party.
Suddenly, the crowd seemed to have quieted all at the same time. And then Andrew hollered, “Zane! Enzo!”
People started clapping and cheering, everyone moving toward the pair, a lot of the detectives obviously excited to meet the creator of Stonewall and his husband for the first time, and it was clear that Zane and Enzo were a force together. Fox had talked about them before, so I was already excited to meet the pair.
The room was all smiles by the time Zane and Enzo reached me. They took me into tight hugs and welcomed me into the Stonewall family. They were looking sharp in their designer suits and fresh haircuts, and if they weren’t so friendly and warm, I would have definitely felt myself intimidated by both of them together.
There was zero intimidation, though. The time flew by as we settled into conversations. I chatted with Beckham and Zane while Enzo had everyone in stitches by the bar, Andrew wiping away tears from his cheeks. Fox came over with a Moscow mule for me, which I thanked him for. I was struck with an urge to lean in and kiss him, as a thanks. I’d do it to anyone else I was with.
Except I wasn’t with Fox, was I? We hadn’t talked about where our relationship stood, even though I already knew what direction I wanted it to go in.
I had known from the second I met Gabriel “Fox” Morrison.
And I was set on making it happen tonight.
I couldn’t think much about it, though. No, thinking about my plans made my stomach start break-dancing. I told Fox that we were spending the night somewhere that wasn’t his bedroom, so he had packed a night bag with him, but I didn’t tell him anything more about what I was planning.