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“It’s beautiful,” Gideon’s partner, Ange—and the only other sane person in the precinct besides Riley and Quinn—said, deadpan.
“Would you two stop eavesdropping?” Grady said heavily. “If you need some extra cases to occupy your time, I have some I can throw your way.”
“When I hear my name, I pay attention,” Gideon said, grinning wide. “I have to confirm any and all outlandish rumours. And create some of my own if they’re too boring.”
“They don’t need your help to confirm that you’re an idiot,” Ange said.
Grady held up a pen in agreement. He stood and stretched. “I’m getting a coffee. I don’t want to know if you want one, because I’m not making you one and wouldn’t want you to waste your breath.”
He got snagged by Henry on his way to the small hallway that would take him to the break room. Whatever he said to Grady had him following Henry back to his desk on the other side of the room.
Gideon leaned his forearm on Quinn’s shoulder. “I think the rookie has a thing for Grades,” he said gleefully.
Ange studied them over the top of her computer.
“He has a boyfriend,” Quinn said. He’d seen the moon eyes, of course. Astronauts in space had seen them.
“Who, the rookie?” Gideon asked. “Since when?”
“No. Grady.” Quinn paused and then glanced up to where Grady was explaining something to Henry and pointing at his computer. The kid was hanging on his every word. Quinn doubted whatever he was saying was that interesting. “Henry could too. I have no idea.” He’d never asked. He probably should have. The rookie hadn’t been with them even six months yet, but his partner, Greer, would hardly have been very welcoming. No wonder he’d developed a thing for Grady when he paid Henry the most attention. It was hard to compete with that, and Grady’s attention could be intense. Quinn had never been tempted to go there, but he could understand why someone would. It was what Mal had seen in him years ago when they’d met.
“Unless you’re an asshole—which for the record, I don’t think he is, but I will reserve judgement until that can be confirmed—you don’t look at someone like that if you have a boyfriend,” Ange said.
“Like what?” Gideon asked curiously. “I know he has a thing, but I don’t see alook.”
That begged the question about how he knew. Quinn wasn’t going to ask. Gideon’s head was a minefield that Quinn had no interest in navigating.
“If Grady told him to drop to his knees right now and suck his dick, Henry would do it,” Ange said simply.
“‘Not it’ for arresting him,” Quinn murmured. Why did they feel the need to have this conversation around his desk? They could see he was working, right? The stacks and stacks of files around him weren’t just there for show or his imagination.
“Not it,” Ange said.
Gideon groaned dramatically. “Why do I gotta do it?”
“Because you’re too slow, chump,” Ange said.
“No one is sucking anyone’s dick in here,” Quinn said. That really shouldn’t have to be said, and yet here they were. He wanted to be surprised. He wasn’t. He was just as shocked as everyone else when their yearly figures came out, and they were in the top percentile in Australia for solved cases. Maybe murderers were dumber in New South Wales.
“I think it’s rude that you’re denying the rookie what he wants,” Gideon said, pouting.
“Everyone wants a piece of Grady,” Quinn said. “That doesn’t mean I have to give it to them.”
“Are you jealous?” Gideon asked, cackling. “Aren’t you banging three guys? One of whom is Riley’s brother?”
Technically four now. He wasn’t going to bring that up. If he did, he deserved everything he got from this duo. “Riley doesn’t own his brothers,” Quinn said. He didn’t need permission, and he wasn’t about to ask for it. Peyton was a grown man, and his decisions were his alone. He’d told Riley about Will and Sebastian because they could potentially be conflicts of interest, not because he wanted Riley’s blessing.
“Are you angling to snag another Sinclair brother? I think that’s frowned upon in most countries.”
“You need a muzzle,” Quinn muttered.
“Ange tells me that frequently.”
Quinn would get her one for Christmas this year so she could use it as a threat when she needed Gideon to shut up. He was like a poodle that wouldn’t quit yapping. Endearing, but at some point, it became too much, and he needed to go in the crate to calm down. Or outside to do his business.
Gideon needed someone that would run him down and help him sleep properly. Energy for energy. He bet Lucia, Gideon’s ex-wife, would help them find someone. She was a good soul like that and had nothing but love and affection for her ridiculous ex-husband.
“Besides,” Ange said dismissively, “it’s not about Grady.”
