Killian (Hope City #8) - Kris Michaels Page 0,9
laughed and nodded. “You sound like my boys. You know what you like, and you stick with it.”
“Yes, ma’am, if you can’t be true to yourself, what’s the point?” Killian winked at Xander, and the man’s rich laugh surrounded them.
“Killian was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he’d prefer a plastic spork.”
He did his best to look offended. “Sporks get a bad rap. They are multidimensional eating utensils.”
Hannah King chuckled and tapped his arm with her hand. “We need people to defend the lowly spork, support the underdog, and stay true to themselves. And my name is Hannah, not ma’am or Mrs. King. We’re going to be family, so you can drop that formality. Oh, look at the time! I need to pop up to the front of the house, it’s almost time for Brie and Ryker to show up. If you’ll excuse me?”
“I’m going to grab a beer.” Killian nodded toward the cooler. “Want one?”
Xander lifted an eyebrow and his glass of brown liquor. “I’ll pass.”
Killian snorted and headed to the cooler. He knew all the men surrounding it as he’d been introduced several times now at family gatherings. “Gentleman, mind if I grab one?” He indicated the cooler.
“Go for it. We’re just having an impromptu meeting of the minds and going over a few things from work,” Brock said before he took a long pull on his beer.
“Bad day at the office?” Killian asked.
“Bad day for three dead bodies with absolutely no connection except being killed at the same time and at the same location.”
“Damn, my bad day consisted of dealing with a slimy politician and getting shorted on my rebar order.” Killian twisted the top off the IPA he’d pulled from the ice.
“Yeah, our bad days start with dead bodies,” Brock admitted.
“Or drug busts and dead bodies.” Brody clicked bottles with Carter, who was married to one of the McBride girls if Killian remembered correctly.
“Or fires and dead bodies, which was what happened this morning. The fire I’m investigating was used to cover up Brock's dead bodies. That’s becoming a common theme.” Sean sighed. “The depths of criminal sickness never cease to amaze me.
Killian took another drink. “So, thanks.” When everyone looked at him, he shrugged. “You made me realize my bad day was really pretty damn good.”
When the detectives laughed, he did, too. Life was all about perspective, after all.
Bekki watched Killian from where she and Caitlyn were seated. “Well, are you going to talk to him?” Caitlyn elbowed her and leaned in to add, “He is gorgeous. All the Ganas brothers are.”
She shot Caitlyn a look. “Stop it.”
“Why? They are.” Caitlyn lifted her wine glass and took a sip. “If we were at the bar and you didn’t know their last names, tell me you wouldn’t make eyes at those two.”
Bekki narrowed her eyes and truly looked at Killian Ganas. He was at least as tall as her brothers, so six feet, six inches. He was thick with muscles. The black t-shirt he wore exposed a massive tattoo on his left arm. He had brown hair, cut short almost in a military style. He wore work boots with thick soles, and his jeans encased heavy, powerful legs. The man was in construction and it looked like he knew how to knock things around with a sledgehammer. “I don’t want to pick him up.”
Caitlyn hummed indistinctly. “You’re going to have to work for this one, my friend. The guy isn’t someone you can manipulate with a smile and a wink.”
Bekki’s head snapped around. “I don’t do that.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Really?”
Caitlyn nodded slowly and hummed, “Mmm-hmm.”
“Shit.” She glanced down at her outfit. She’d come straight from a meeting with her news producer and didn’t have time to go home and change. Her heels were digging holes into the grass. She toed off the shoes and wiggled her bare toes. “Oh, that feels good.” She took a sip of wine. “Am I really that bad?”
“No.” Caitlyn admitted. “When I’ve talked to Killian, he’s been nice but distant. I’ve seen him and Dawn talk though, and he was… vibrant? No, that’s not right, but he seems like he engages more with some people than he does with others.”
“I’ve noticed that.” She cocked her head. “I wonder why.”
“Maybe he feels more comfortable with Dawn than he does us.”
“Why? What’s the difference between her and us?”
Caitlyn took a sip of her wine and then held out her fingernails. They were painted purple to match her hair streaks and had