... he was sunset against the mountains, strong, vibrant, dangerous, and yet somehow sheltering, protective. And married. Picnic, meet rain.
Devon MonkI donโt know how to explain it.โ โTry words. If that doesnโt work, weโll move on to interpretive dance.
Devon MonkNight Owls is a fast, fun read that kept me turning the pages. Lauren M. Roy delivers a plot that zips, dialogue that zings, and a cast of characters you'll cheer for to the very end. Thumbs up!
Devon MonkI wouldnโt want you to get in the shower and then pass out or some such. How about if I help you get out of your clothes? Iโm an expert in platonic undressings.โ He gave me that wicked smile. โGive it a rest. Iโm not going to strip naked in front of you, and Iโd rather pee in private.โ โHalf the injuries in a home happen in the bathroom. What kind of friend would I be to let you face that kind of danger alone? I mean, sure, you walked out of death, but this is a shower.โ โShame. Get out of my bathroom.
Devon MonkI glanced up at Zay, then walked over to stand next to him. "You look good with a baby in your arms," he murmured. I took his hand, careful with his fingers that were still wrapped in tape. "Don't get your hopes up, Jones. I'm not the settling-down type." "Want to bet on that?" he asked. "Sure." I made a fist; so did he. We pumped three times. I threw paper. Zayvion threw scissors. I'd lost. Startled, I looked up at him. "Two out of three?" Zay grinned. So did I.
Devon Monk