Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Bull shoved his hat lower on his brow. “Hey, my pop always told me, you don't let the horse out to pasture when he ain't lame.”
Fox punched Bull in his chest before shoving him out the way so he could hug Day.
Michaels stepped in next, giving God a brotherly hug, then Day. “Good to see you boys back in one piece.”
“You can say that again,” Day said. “LA has the worst drivers anywhere in the world. And I’ve been to Manhattan.”
“Where’s Judge?” God asked.
“He’ll be here tomorrow. The job is jobbing. He and Duke got caught up with a case, so he can’t make the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
Syn moved slower than the others but with an ease God hadn’t seen in him for a while.
Furi stood close to him, his long hair braided back, face relaxed in a way that gave God relief.
Syn clasped God’s hand, then pulled him into him. “You good?”
God held his shoulder. “I’m good, Bro.”
Syn looked toward Day, then back to God. “Yeah. Me too.”
Furi hugged Day first, then God, smelling faintly of leather and expensive soap. “Glad you’re back.”
God patted his back. “Glad you two are upright.”
Furi’s mouth curved. “That makes two of us.”
Curtis didn’t walk up to Furi.
He ran.
“Furi!”
Furi barely turned in time before Curtis launched himself at him. He caught him clean, arms closing around him while Curtis wrapped both legs around his waist as if he had no sense of grown-man dignity.
“I missed you,” Curtis said, squeezing him.
Furi laughed, real and warm. “I missed you too, gorgeous.”
Curtis slid down from Furi’s arms but kept one hand locked around his wrist. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”
“Everyone knows that,” Ruxs muttered. “It’s why all of us are here, and all of my savings are depleted.”
“Shut up, Dad.” Curtis waved him off. “You work for Xander Vale. You’ll make it back.”
Genesis came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist.
Bull shook Genesis’s hand, smiling under his black Stetson hat. “That boy’s gonna wear himself out before the ceremony.”
Curtis leaned back into Gen. “No I’m not. I’m powered by love.”
“As long as he still has enough energy for the honeymoon.”
Ruxs made a disgusted sound. “What the hell?”
“For fuck’s sake, man,” Green scoffed.
The banter moved around them easy and loud.
Ro and Johnson greeted Hart with a clap on the shoulder before they both went to God and Day and hugged them for a long time.
The four of them had history…amazing, hot history.
Day kissed Ro’s temple “How’s the private investigation life?”
Ro chuckled. “Quiet and simple. Just like I hoped it’d be. Leaves me plenty of time to work on my handicap.”
“Trust me, he needs it,” Micheals added.
The laughter began to slow when the sound of hooves came from the side path. God turned. Two riders were coming towards the house. God remembered Rid, one of Bull’s ranch managers.
He was sitting on a brown speckled horse with a pretty-boy ease, blond-brown hair peaking beneath his backwards ballcap.
It was the rider trailing behind Rid that made God’s mood curdle instantly.
“Not this fucking guy,” he grumbled.
Day tracked God’s attention across the property, then laughed quietly. “Well, well, well.”
The last time God had come to the ranch to drag Fox back to his SWAT duties, Dale Garrett—Bull’s best friend—hadn’t taken that well. He had used the hindquarters of his horse like a damn battering ram and slammed it into God’s chest hard enough to send him flying ten feet into the grill of his truck.
God hadn’t forgotten or forgiven, neither had his ribs.
Dale had been an asshole then, sitting high and mighty on his horse like a fucking renegade in Billy the Kid’s gang, and from the looks of it…he still was.
Only this time, he didn’t come barreling in.
He strutted.
The horse beneath him moved with slow, insulting grace, every step deliberate.
Dale sat loose in the saddle, one hand easy on the reins, the other resting on his thigh. His cowboy hat was pulled low, shadowing his face. Aviator shades caught the late afternoon sun and gave nothing back. A short, neatly trimmed beard sharpened his jaw.
Dust clung to his boots, and the man’s shoulders looked broad enough to carry fence posts…and years-long grudges. His thighs were toned from a lifetime in the saddle, denim worn at the seams, shirt stretched tight across his chest. He had the audacity to keep his face turned toward him as he approached. He stopped a short distance away from the group and let the horse settle beneath him.
“Look what the polluted city dragged in,” Dale drawled.
God pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and glared back. “Dale.”
Dale scoffed. “Still ain’t learned no manners, I see. Where I’m from, when you come to another man’s house, you greet him with a proper how-do.”
God stepped forward. “You get down off that horse, and I’ll greet you real fuckin’ proper.”