Spread Your Wings: Men in Blue, Book 4 Read Online Free Page A

earlier.
    Maybe they could make up at the reception.
    Maybe tonight could be different.
    Please, let it be different.
    After one last prayer, all thoughts turned to her friends and the pledges they swore. It was beautiful. Perfect. Everlasting.
     
     
    “Can I bring you another drink, ma’am?” The waiter swung past her table in his circuit of frequent rounds. No extravagance had been spared in the party Gunther had thrown for his protégé, who might as well have been his son, and his new quasi daughter-in-law. Fitting since the pair were also the stars of his shockingly successful new facility.
    “I’ll take two this time.” She slammed the last of the prior fruity concoction, then set the glass on the waiter’s tray. If it wobbled a little, it was probably because he held the platter precariously balanced on one palm.
    “Are you sure, Jambi?” Clint leaned closer to be heard over the music, which all their friends danced to. “The cocktails are stronger than you might realize. They’re using the good stuff, so it doesn’t taste as much like booze.”
    “I know my limits.” Daring him to object, she stared daggers at him, then Matt just for the hell of it. Talk, her ass. They’d relegated her to the friend zone the moment they’d sat down to dinner together. Sure, it’d been fun. She always had a great time with them, but it was fake. They were ignoring all the other layers deeper than pals.
    Pretty soon she was going to lose it. But not here. Not in public.
    Awkward, she and her dates comprised the sole occupants of the dais designated for the wedding party. Even Ellie and Lucas seemed to have wandered off somewhere, maybe the gardens.
    “Hey, Jambs, come on,” Izzy shouted to her from the dance floor, waving to their group. The couples had split up a bit now that something other than endless love songs bleated from the speakers. All too eager to leave her dates, Jambrea shot to her feet.
    Clint braced her when she teetered. Damn heels. She smacked his overly familiar hand before it could work any of its hornifying magic. Enough with the pheromones already .
    Then she sauntered onto the floor in time to the beat and tried to burn off a little of the buzz she might have underestimated. Lost in the music and revelry, surrounded by friends, she forgot about some of her angst. Until Lacey leaned in and whisper-shouted, “Matt and Clint are about to choke on their tongues over there. Show me some hip shimmies!”
    Fuck them. Why not?
    Jambrea obliged.
    It wasn’t long before Lacey’s face lit up. “Incoming.”
    “What?” Jambrea peeked over her shoulder. Sure enough, the two men she’d obsessed over for the past year or so stalked closer. She whipped her head back around toward her friends. “They don’t dance.”
    “Maybe they will for you.” Izzy grinned as she ground her backside against her fiancé, who wrapped his arms protectively around her and the child she carried.
    “I doubt it.” Jambrea refused to let them ruin her fun though. If anything, she redoubled the swivel of her ass and dug into the groove of the beat.
    And then there were hands on her waist, turning her. From the way her captor’s thumbs nearly touched in the base of her spine, they could only belong to Matt. He tucked her close to the furnace of his body and rocked in a basic side-to-side step, mostly in time to the music. She closed her eyes and settled against him, thrilled to feel the growing erection he pressed to the small of her back.
    “Hey, mind if I cut in?” Clint asked.
    Jambrea blinked when he reached out, cupping her ribs in his palms. Four hands on her at once nearly short-circuited her brain.
    “Actually, I do,” Matt growled.
    “Too bad.” The other man wasn’t retreating. Instead he pressed closer, flanking her with their gyrating bodies. Her breasts brushed his chest as she undulated, caught between rubbing herself on one or the other. Or both, after Clint took another half-step