Sadie’s mouth opens and closes. “I still don’t—”
Grady’s phone rings loudly in his pocket, interrupting her. He tries to take it out, but I refuse to let go of his hand—how will Iattempt secret signals if we’re not touching?—so he awkwardly reaches over with his other hand to grab it.
“Detective Sergeant Donehue… What? Yeah, okay, hold on.” He presses the screen to his chest. “Q and I have been called to a scene, so I have to go. Any chance we can foist the kid on you for the afternoon? The station isn’t on the way, and we’d have to backtrack.”
“You meanMini-Riley?” I can’t believe they actually call someone that. Is he tiny? Sometimes it takes a few years for the height to really kick in. Sometimes people stay fun sized. Or is it just in comparison to Grady’s boss, Riley? He’s pretty tall, so it wouldn’t besuperdifficult not to be shorter, especially for a teenager.
“Yeah.”
I shrug. “Sure.” The more the merrier. Well, it’s more of a replacement, so the same amount, isn’t it? Still. “Does he like flowers?” We’re gonna be spendingat leastan hour staring at flowers. It’s an important prerequisite.
“It’s a matter of debate,” Grady says dryly. “He was stealing some when we met him. Not for him, however, so that doesn’t answer the question.”
And now he’s doing work experience at the station? Maybe Ishouldbe asking Grady what he does all day. It sounds way more interesting than my days. “Eh. Close enough.”
“That’s not—” Grady shakes his head. “I need to finish talking to Quinn.”
I reluctantly slide my hand from his and let him walk a few steps away, a finger pressed to his opposite ear while he listens to his partner. It does give me a nice view, though. His pants hug all of him in a really nice way.
“Lake?”
Oh. Sadie. I smile at her and say, “It’s great to see you. What are you doing these days? New job opportunity?” I can’t imagine anything else that’d be a lure for her to come home.
“I didn’t know that you were gay. Bisexual?”
“Neither,” I answer, shoving my hands in my pockets. They feel cold now that Grady isn’t holding me anymore. “It’s him—just him.” Well, I can’t say that with complete certainty since I’ve never looked at another guy to see if there’s something attractive about them, but that’s irrelevant. Why would I bother checking that when I have what I want? I have way better things to do with my time. Like snuggling on the couch eating Skittles and watching terrible—terribly good—reality TV shows with Grady and judging people we’ve never met, who are dealing with situations we never will. It’s even better because when I get bored, I can climb into Grady’s lap to entertain myself with something new.
“How did you meet?” she asks curiously, glancing over to Grady. “A police detective? Did you get yourself arrested?”
I snort out a laugh. I almost wish that I could say yes. That’d be a pretty hot first meeting. I kinda love the real one, though. “At Zach and Felix’s New Year’s Eve party.”
Grady turns around, still speaking to Quinn, and our eyes meet. The intensity of his olive-green eyes sends a shiver through me. Damn, but I’m so in love with him. I want to take him into a dark corner so I can ravish him. Hell, I’ll do it in plain view, I don’t care. I’ll keep it PG rated or whatever, but the wholepointof marrying a person is so that I can kiss them whenever I want.
Sadie frowns. “As in… the one just gone?”
I rock back on my heels. “He was my midnight kiss.” I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face. A fantastic first kiss even if at the time there wasn’t anything in it. Being in love withthe man definitely makes everything better. Brighter. Fucking perfect.
“That’s barely six months ago. Now you’re engaged to him?”
“Yes?” Why does that matter?
“That’s—how can you really know him?” She places a hand on my elbow. “He’s… a big guy, Lake.”
I’m intimately aware of that, in the best way. “When you know, you know, right?” And I know that I want my ring on his finger. He’ll look great with a ring. I sweep my gaze over his considerable form and down to his large hands. A ring. I should get him an engagement ring too. One to match mine.
“I guess? How can you be sure, though, in such a short amount of time?”
It feels like she’s asking herself that question more than me. “You just… do? I don’t know. Why?”
“I’m seeing someone and—”
I grin. “Did he propose?” I nudge her shoulder playfully. “You’re holding out on me. How’d he do it? I got rose petals.”
“Is it a competition?” she asks with a laugh, running a shy hand through her hair.
“Maybe.” I’m not much of a competitive person. “Did you say no?” It sounds like she said no. A lot of relationships can come back from that, though. Marriage isn’t for everyone.
“He hasn’t proposed. But I think he’s going to, and I think I’ll say yes, and that’s terrifying. We’ve been dating longer than you two but not that much longer.”
