Page 122 of Devil's Property

A single snort left my mouth. “All records of the formula were destroyed. He’s enjoying retirement.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s excited to do absolutely nothing. But golfing. Can you believe he took up golfing?”

The sound of a blender grabbed our attention.

He slipped around me, heading toward the door. I pulled him back. “Boat drinks?”

“Something better, but you’re going to need to step back, buddy.”

“Buddy?” He smacked my bottom again. “I think I need to teach you some manners.”

“You can try, but you’ll fail.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hey!” I elbowed him again before giving him a playful shove. “Go stand in the corner. If you’re a good boy, you might get a treat.”

He acted offended, huffing before turning away.

I watched him heading toward the group, still tingling from his touch. From his kiss.

And from the way he looked at me. It was a cross between wanting to tear off my clothes and have his way with me and wanting to turn me over his knee for a thorough spanking.

Maybe that was why I felt like the luckiest girl around.

Would our life be perfect? Of course not. Were there any fairytales without drama tossed in every once in a while? Of course not. But I knew in my heart being with Navarro was the right thing to do.

I bit my lip and entered the kitchenette. “Are they ready?” I resisted chastising the timing.

“First batch,” the owner of the catering company said. She shook her head, muttering in Spanish. She’d told me quite bluntly this wasn’t appropriate for such an elegant event.

Since when had I ever played by anyone’s rules?

“Which one is the nonalcoholic drink?”

The woman pushed one glass closer.

“Perfect.”

I grabbed the first tray, delighted in my selection of cups I’d had printed for the event. Even the bright pink straws added to the festiveness of the gallery opening. Balancing the cups carefully, I headed toward the group.

My family.

We might not all be blood related, but there was something very special about the term ‘found family.’ As I approached, I did mybest to keep from tripping. Navarro was the first to notice me, a single eyebrow shooting up.

“Oh, drinks,” Christine called. “I know exactly what this is.”

“Shush,” I told her. Christine was from the United States, Kruz snagging her attention in Miami.

She mimed zipping her lips.

“Here’s one for you, Genevieve. A special one.”

“Why special?”

I shrugged.