Julie Kriss

You’re about to see one of his sons. Birth name John Christian, which is shortened to J. C., which in turn is shortened to Jace.

“What tactic?” he said. “I find you interesting.”

Because people found me nice. They found me competent. A few of them even found me attractive. But the fact was, no one found me interesting. No one except Jace Riggs.

It turned out that he’d secretly had a relationship with Emily Parker, the cop’s daughter, when they were eighteen, and he’d never gotten over her in the years since.

Tara Montgomery. That was the name on the nameplate on her desk. She’d riled me up, she’d made me mad, and she’d made me very fucking horny. She’d done it just by sitting behind a desk and asking me a few questions

These two weren’t just dating—they were in love.

What the hell could I do? I was three beers in, and she had those jeans on, and she’d said Honey, let’s go. I followed her through the bar and out the door.

“It’s my job.”

“Not anymore it isn’t.” He inhaled softly, and I knew he was scenting me like I’d scented him. He changed position and his lips ghosted over mine, the touch so light I almost thought I’d imagined it. I inhaled in surprise, but he pulled back, still looking in my eyes. “My broken parts will stay broken,” he said. “You can’t do anything about that.”

“Because that’s the way the world works?” I asked.

“Pretty much.”

I gave it back to him. I leaned and brushed my lips over his, petal-light.

“Watch me,” I said.

“Why do you care how often I get laid?”

Luke shrugged. “I’m just trying to help you out.”

“Dude, you were hung up on Emily Parker for eight years. You’re hardly an expert in playing the field.”

Dex was crazy—do-not-pass-Go, flat-out fucking crazy. Every woman who had the balls to go near Dex had been crazy too.