Mag-log in____...“No, that’s for me.” Reagan tried to put beetroot chips back on the cart. He had tried to sneak in some healthy options, scrunching his nose at all the empty carbs and sugars that his wife was stacking their cart with. “I don't care.” Joanne was not having it. “Just looking at it makes me feel yuck.” “It's healthy.” He was about to put it back in the cart but her death glare made him pause.“I will eat it in my study.” He tried to bargain, lowering his voice when he saw two women staring at them amused. “You won't ever see it ever again.”“Remind me never to come shopping with you. You are trying to torture my gut.” Reagan gave up. He knew that he was not wrong. That she was being moody and unreasonable for no reason. But he also knew that no reason was no reason enough since it was their child in her womb making her act out.And he, despite all the shit he had said and done in their marriage, respected and adored her for it. “I need to eat more fibre.” Joanne was che
____...“Why did you meet her?” Reagan asked Patrick as he paced his office. “I am sorry, but I am not about to disclose another client’s information to you.” Patrick smiled, pleased with himself, as he twiddled his thumbs. “For all I know, she could be planning something against you.” Reagan turned to glare at him. “That I don’t care, McAdams. As long as she is safe, she can plot whatever she wants against me.” Patrick raised a brow. “I am sorry. Mr. Knight? Are you really going to play the good husband card with me? Seriously? Did you hit your head? Do you have amnesia? Did you forget that I have been working for you for almost a decade now?” Reagan turned around to glare at him. “McAdams, I am serious. Is there any danger to my wife? What is she after? As you said, I am your first and oldest client; you should have some loyalty towards me.” “Send me two hundred grand, and I will tell you.” Patrick smiled like a cat who got the cream. “You know only money can buy my loyalty.
____...Elliot laughed at his own lame joke, making Joanne want to smack him.“Eli, please grow up. You are too old for this cringe shit.” Joanne rubbed her face.“Eli, please grow up. You are too old for this cringe shit.” Elliot mimicked, even doing the face rub. “Eli!” She really was going to throw something at his head. “Okay, fine.” He rolled his eyes. “You are such a killjoy, babe.” Joanne tapped on the table, waiting for the noodles. “I hope I don’t puke.” She murmured. She remembered how she had shot Reagan down when he had offered to go to that French restaurant. And how she had complained about constant outside food damaging her body. Yet, here she was. She pacified her guilt with the fact that she was here on business. “Where is that asshole?” Elliot looked around. “Pretty sure the bitch is doing something illegal.” Joanne raised a brow. “I thought he worked at the precinct.” “He does,” Elliot shook his head. “But he also works as a private investigator. It wil
____...Joanne woke up feeling like she had the sleep of her lifetime. She felt so well-rested, and she felt like the extremely comfortable bed in the master bedroom was kneading the tight knots off her lower back.She moaned in contentment as the beautiful pressure continued to alleviate whatever discomfort she had been feeling from sitting and watching her best friend drink away last night. As she came to, she realized that this could not be from the bed, and she was finally aware of the huge, hard hand that was massaging her tissue reverently and the huge heated body pressed against her smaller frame.She gasped as she opened her eyes, and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of those beautiful grey orbs in front of her.“Reagan.”Her voice was thick with sleep, breezy, and his body reacted immediately to the very sensuality of it.“Good morning, gorgeous.”His voice was huskier, and it did things to her that nothing ever could. His voice, his morning voice, was like his
____...“As far as I am concerned, it is not even up for discussion. I get that there is a lot of political pressure to wrap up this investigation, but to rule it out as an accident or a suicide, that is just plain blasphemy.”Elliot was on his sixth can of beer, and he was very openly stating his opinions regarding one of the cases he was handling.“He is very passionate about his job,” Joanne told Reagan when he looked over at her, amused.Elliot wiggled his finger in her face. “Honey, you don't understand. They are being such pieces of shit. I want to quit.” He banged on the table. “I am quitting. I am going to start my own investigative agency.”“You wouldn't last a day,” Joanne pointed out. “You will be in jail on day one.”“Ahh, you don't love me no more, do you? Now that you have pretty boy here and precious baby Jo in your tummy, you don't love me no more.”“Have you forgotten about our blood oath, Joe? That you and I are one unit till death do us part? We have a longer bon
____...Elliot stared at his friend like she was crazy. “You want to make a sketch of a person who you think might cause you harm in the future?” He asked. "I don't think the police department is going to entertain resource utility over future predictions." Elliot was as sarcastic as ever.“No, you do not understand, Eli. I have seen this man in multiple places I went to. He is always watching. Or so I feel.” She lied, trusting that a stalker angle was enough to scare Elliot, especially now that there was a niece or nephew on the way. “What? What do you mean? How long has this been going on? Why didn't you tell me before?” Elliot was immediately alert. He quickly pulled out his phone to make some calls. “I think you should make an official complaint, Jo. This is not child's play. We do not want anything happening to you or your baby.”Joanne took a deep breath. “It is exactly why I came to you, Eli. I want you to find him, and I am willing to help with the sketch so that it is eas
____...“So she knows it's a boy?” Reagan asked as he sipped on the over-sweetened mojito that went straight to his brain. He winced as he placed the blue food-dyed drink down. Joanne nodded, though all she really wanted was to overturn the mojito on his head. She did not like him here. She di
____ . . . Joanne had not gained a single pound. In fact, she was suspecting weight loss. But all her dresses felt uncomfortable. She had not felt this way back in the past. She guessed maybe it was because she was so used to maternity wear that wearing a fitted dress was making her both
____ . . . “You had to see the blood. So much blood. I will send you all the juicy pics as soon as it is made legal to release.” Reagan stared at Sergeant Elliot Grady. He was a homicide detective. He had no problem talking gore. What stunned him was how interested Joanne was in the stories.
____ . . . Joanne bit into her nails as she thought of all the possible reasons for Reagan’s sudden metamorphosis. The top two reasons she could find were: brain injury and deception. The latter was more likely. She had locked herself up in her room, after resolving just this morning







