The Trouble with Trying to Date a Murderer (Murder Sprees and Mute Decrees #1)

by Jennifer Cody

Watching Fox tend his wounds is a little surreal. Turns out, he does not have any bullet holes in his body. I know because I didn't even attempt not to gawk when he stripped down to his skivvies. I’m not sure he noticed that I was watching, because even though he has zero bullet holes in him, apparently he got into a fight with a carving knife recently. Well, it was probably a sword, but still, those cuts are deep and the scars will be vicious. Not that adding a few more scars is going to take away from his beauty. The man is—let me just get a napkin for my drool—lithe. Lots of yummy muscles, but nothing over the top. He’s not showing his bulk off; he’s using his body to be fast and precise. He’s got plenty of scarring already and a few scary tattoos. Scary like they look like he got them because he was in the mafia or is in the mafia or something. Though I suspect if he’s got mobs of criminals trying to kill him, he’s probably on the outs with his organization. Also, the love of my life doesn’t only carry weapons and ammo on him; he also pulled out a surgical needle and thread from his pocket and a human staple gun. He’s used both on himself without anesthesia since sitting down at the kitchen table. I don’t think he feels pain the way I do because I sure as hell could not stick a needle into my skin without at least flinching, and I flinched for him every time the stapler made its ktchk noise.