Promises (The Kings of Guardian #14) - Kris Michaels Page 0,1
addictions didn’t extend to smoking, so watching him get involved in the festivities was a damn good experience. Jason clipped the end and lit up before he spoke, “Yes, but now we are celebrating both occasions.”
“Besides, it’s much more fun to irritate you. Mal just laughs the shit off,” Drake said and then clinked his glass with Dixon.
Joseph slowly turned his attention to Drake. “Boy, you better back up, or we’ll talk about a certain cabin that no longer exists.”
Jacob laughed along with everyone else as Drake’s face flamed. “I offered to pay for the damage.” The sullen, muttered reply ignited another round of laughter.
“Where are you and Poet going for a honeymoon?” Nic’s question settled the commotion to a low roar, although Dixon and Drake continued to mutter between themselves while glancing at Joseph. Well now, that could be of interest. Get those two plotting together and more than a mere cabin could blow up.
Jacob tuned back into the conversation as Mal replied, “An all-inclusive resort on Aruba. Beachfront, all the alcohol, food, sun, and surf we can stand for two weeks.” Maliki raised a glass and nodded to Joseph. “His idea.”
Joseph’s head whipped around. “What? So not my fucking idea!”
“Yes, it was. All you could do was go on about having Ember to yourself for two weeks in Aruba. Sounded damn good, so I looked into it. Should be heaven.”
Joseph rolled his eyes. “Just don’t stop by, if you know what I mean.”
“No worries, I’ll have better things to do than find your grumpy ass.”
“Aruba for two weeks. Damn, that sounds like heaven, especially after all these snowstorms.” Justin leaned back. “Coldest winter in the last three decades. I hate the snow sometimes.”
“Aruba, isn’t that another desert?” Christian lifted his glass. “The man loves the desert.”
“But it is a tropical desert island with beautiful beaches, and it’s fucking warm.” Zane lifted his glass and downed it in one go. “I could deal with two weeks laying on the beach.”
Jacob couldn’t help laughing at the glare Joseph sent Zane’s way. This shit was getting fun. “I’m due vacation time. Aruba sounds fucking phenomenal.”
Joseph slowly turned his head toward him. “Do not start.”
“What?” Jacob smacked an innocent expression on his face. “Like you own the fucking island?”
“Last time I checked he didn’t, but that mansion he lives in could be the Governor’s Palace.” Justin shrugged. “It has, what, ten bedrooms?”
“Yeah, we got lost when we stayed there last year.” Chad nodded. “Ten bedrooms, thirteen bathrooms, a pool the size of a small lake, plus a beach-side kitchen. That place is lit.”
“I think Marcus would love the beach.” Jared glanced at his husband and smiled.
“Oh, man, that would be amazing. It has been so damn cold here.” Christian leaned into Jared.
Jason shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m too busy. Mopping up the fallout from the New York situation.”
“Thank God, that’s all I’d need, the entire family showing up on my doorstep.” Joseph gave an exaggerated shiver, tossed back the rest of his bourbon, and held out his glass toward Maliki. “I need another. I have to wear a fucking tux tomorrow.”
“We know, that’s why we’re here. Well, that and wishing you well, Mal.” Jacob lifted his glass.
“The people in this room and your spouses are the only ones Poet and I know, so we are very grateful you came. Our mothers have lost it. I swear it upset them when we capped the invitations. They had a list of over six hundred. Six hundred! Poet’s mother wanted to invite relatives she’s never met. And my mom? God, everyone she ever met would have an invitation. I’m so looking forward to Aruba. But in deference to our jobs and the people we wanted to invite, they agreed to a drastically smaller ceremony. Thank God.” He glanced at his watch. “We leave the reception in twenty-three hours.” Mal poured another drink. “To sanity, may it reign forever.”
“To sanity.” The toast echoed around the room as the door opened and platters of food arrived.
The aroma brought a rumble of dissatisfaction from his stomach. Jacob was so hungry his gut was pretty damn sure his throat had been slit. He hadn’t eaten all day and his stomach was empty… well, minus the deluge of alcohol. He made his way to the first platter that hit the table. Oh, hell yeah. Decent food. He picked up a plate and piled on the eats. Two pieces for his plate, one for his mouth. Fuck yeah, excellent food.
“Hey, Skipper.”
Stopping