Page 58 of Gold Rush

“He already knows.”

His eyebrows lift before he leans closer.

I shove his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for your shiner.”

“He was happy for me—us—actually.”

Rhody groans, then swallows more liquor.

“How is that a bad thing?”

“If Kit approved, you did your Flynn thing.”

I frown. “What thing?”

“You’re a charming motherfucker, Parks. You made Kit think this would end with a white picket fence.”

“There are no white picket fences in Manhattan.”

Rhody sighs.

I glance at the pool, ignoring the brunette in a pink bikini who waves at me. Rory isn’t standing on the other side anymore. I’m not accustomed to keeping track of anyone else at events. I scan the yard, not finding Rory anywhere. She must have gone inside.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell Rhody. “I need a drink.”

“There’s a bar right here,” he calls after me.

I continue walking, straight toward the massive glass sliding doors that lead indoors. A staircase is straight ahead, which leads up into the kitchen and a formal dining area that overlooks the pool and ocean. Everything is white and modern inside too—cabinets and countertops and furniture. The appliances are all hidden, so I have no clue where the fridge is.

Another bar has been set up in the corner. I head that way, figuring they’ll have sodas or something nonalcoholic I can grab before continuing to search for my date.

Halfway there, I finally spot Rory. She’s amid a crowd of people I recognize, but I barely give most of them a glance. I’m fixated on Knox Wellington, who is standing right next to her, smiling at whatever she’s saying.

I’m annoyed for about half a second, and then I realize this is a perfect opportunity.

I veer left, not stopping until I’m right behind Rory, seizing the chance to touch the silky dress that would be awfully easy to take off. I slide a hand around her waist and splay my fingers across her stomach in a possessive gesture I’ve never displayed before.

“Hey, baby.”

Sudden tension in her muscles disappears as soon as I speak. It’s supremely satisfying when I feel her relax against me as she recognizes my voice. Her heels place her at the perfect height for the top of her head to fit under my chin.

I focus on Graham, who is standing across the circle from us. He looks stunned, glancing left, then right at everyone else in the immediate vicinity.

“Happy birthday, man.”

“Th-thanks,” he replies.

His eyes are darting around the circle, similarly to several others, in a silent assessment of, Did you know about this?

“I need you for a minute,” I tell Rory at a normal volume, but since no one surrounding us is speaking, I’m sure they can all hear. Knox had better be listening.

Her head tilts back, meeting my gaze. “For what?”

“Something very specific that requires your exact skill set,” I say, tracing lazy circles on her stomach with my thumb.

She swallows, the delicate muscles of her throat briefly contracting. That would feel incredible around my⁠—