The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) (17 page)

“May I have the first dance?”

The smooth tone made her look up, although it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen Spence arrive earlier. He was his usual unforgettable self in worn jeans and a white shirt, with a loosely knitted navy tie and polished boots. She regarded him with what she hoped was indifferent composure.

In truth, her pulse had sped up. And that annoyed her.

“The band hasn’t started playing yet.”

“I thought I’d jump the gun in case you get all booked up. I expect your dance card will be full. You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

His relaxed smile was probably deliberate, and she could all too clearly remember that searing kiss from the night before. The spectacular evening backdrop didn’t hurt, either, and she had to tell herself that he might or might not be truly interested.

Well, interested, yes, but in what?

“I appreciate the flirtation, but we both know you don’t have much of a need to sweet-talk me.” The beer must have had a mellowing effect, because she let out an exasperated breath.

At least he was smart enough to not push the issue. “I’m just telling the truth.” His gaze dropped blatantly to examine the curve of her breasts under the clinging material of her pink blouse for a moment before he politely raised it, but there was a definite gleam of mischief in his eyes. “I like you in that color. Nice.”

“Hmmph.”

They just looked at each other until he finally reminded her of his initial question. “So, first dance?”

Maybe he’d bribed someone, but the band started up right then. When she peered around the corner of the house, she saw that Hadleigh and Tripp were already on the makeshift dance floor, in each other’s arms. She nodded, since as maid of honor and best man, they were supposed to make an immediate appearance.

“Let’s do it.”

“Hey, that’s music to my ears.” Spence took her cup, set it on a convenient table and clasped her elbow, urging her over to where the crowd had gathered. “I’d love to do it.”

“I hardly meant
that
.”

“Too bad.” He pulled her toward him as they stepped onto the floor. “For this moment, though, just dance with me.”

It would’ve been preferable if he hadn’t drawn her just a little too close, especially with an audience looking on.

She would also have preferred it if he hadn’t smelled so good. She hoped she didn’t react visibly, but couldn’t count on it. His muscled shoulder was hard under the palm of one hand, and his fingers threaded through the fingers of her other hand as he held her.

It was a love song, of course, and Melody couldn’t risk looking into his eyes. Instead, they just danced, without conversation, and he seemed content with that, too. His body brushed hers, reminiscent of another sensual dance they’d done, and if they hadn’t practically burned down the barn the night before, it might’ve happened again, right then and there. Just as well the boys had burst in on them the night before, she told herself firmly.

She sensed that everyone around them was drawing all the right—or was that all the
wrong
?—conclusions about her and Spencer Hogan.

She wished she knew what was going to happen next.

If she had to make book on it, she guessed he was going to sweep her off her feet and then infuriate her in some way. History had that habit of repeating itself. At least
their
history did. Why he had to be so hard to handle was something she didn’t understand.

Maybe that was part of the chemistry. He was completely predictable in some ways—intelligent with a strong sense of right and wrong, tough as nails when he needed to be, possessing an easygoing sense of humor. But he was also immovable in his beliefs and ethics, and that didn’t bode well for anyone on the other side of the law.

That uncompromising quality was a valuable trait in a police officer, but in a husband? Perhaps, if he decided to settle down, but so far Spence hadn’t suggested he was ready to head in
that
direction, although he’d be happy to head for the nearest bedroom. The nearest altar? Not so much. He’d sure never shown her any sign of that.

Therein lay their biggest problem.

“I love the way your hair smells,” he murmured. “Like flowers.”

“It’s called shampoo, and please don’t smell my hair in front of all these people.”

He laughed, and she had to admit that was a ridiculous thing to say, so she laughed, too, albeit somewhat reluctantly. She amended her comment to say, “Everyone is watching us.”

“So they are. Anyone ever tell you that you can be as prickly as a cactus?”

“
You
have once or twice. I just think we’re dancing a bit close for such a public event.”

His smile was wicked. “And here we go again, disagreeing. Because I don’t think we’re dancing close enough.”

His arm tightened around her waist, and his lips grazed her temple in a subtle caress.

The man might as well have taken out a billboard sign that said:
I Am Hopeful I’ll Have Sex With Melody Nolan Later Tonight.

The first song ended, and grateful for the reprieve, she stepped away. “I need to go see if Bex needs help. She’s working with the catering staff in the kitchen.”

He let her go without argument.

She was illogically disappointed as she hurried toward the brightly lit house. One of her favorite vendors, an older woman who ran a shop that stocked her jewelry, stopped her briefly, airily waving her hand, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Whew, seems kind of warm out here, doesn’t it, darling? You’re a little flushed. Wonder why.”

Melody felt an urge to strangle a certain chief of police. She knew Mustang Creek. Gossip was like a match to dry sagebrush. “Uh, yes, a little warm, but it’s such a lovely night, Mrs. Perkins. All those stars,” she responded pleasantly then dashed inside.

Bex was filling a chafing dish with barbecued chicken. Melody grabbed her arm and dragged her into a corner. “Can you please do me a favor?”

Her friend looked at her inquiringly, strands of hair curling because of the heat in the kitchen. “My usual answer would be ‘of course,’ but maybe you’d be kind enough to tell me what I’m promising.”

“I need you to run interference between Spence and me tonight.”

“Run interference? You make it sound like you’re playing a football game or—”

Melody caught her apron and gave it a tug, interrupting. “I’m not kidding, Bex. I need some space.”

Bex nodded. “I heard about the dance.”

“Already?” That surprised even her. “It just ended. I came right inside.”

“
Have Gossip, Will Travel
mean anything to you? Two people popped in to steal some of Billy’s brownies—the word’s out about those, too—and they said something about you and Spence.”

Melody didn’t even ask what. She didn’t want to know. “So, will you help me?”

“Like I said—of course.”

*

H
E WAS CLEARLY
being railroaded.

Spence wasn’t sure whether to be amused or irritated. Melody chose a chair as far from him as possible during the eating portion of the evening, and both Bex and Hadleigh had chatted his ear off for the past hour. The party was in full swing, people were having a ball, but the band was winding down and it was time to start the bonfire, so he finally managed to track down Tripp.

He said mildly, “I could swear both Bex and your wife actually like me, or have I just been fooling myself for years?”

Tripp looked like he was having a good time, his mood expansive. “You’re a fool occasionally, Hogan, no question about that, but what specifically are we discussing?”

He straddled a chair and rested his arms on the back. “They won’t let me get within ten feet of Melody.”

“I kinda noticed that they were acting like trained cattle dogs cutting a calf from the herd. I think you might have overdone that first dance.”

It was impossible to not chuckle at the comparison. “Uh, take a note, Mr. Galloway. Do not refer to your wife or her best friend as dogs, got it?”

Tripp looked properly mortified, a plastic cup of beer halfway to his mouth. “I guess that wasn’t my best call. Tell on me and I’ll kick your ass. What I meant was they seem to be like wolves chasing a deer—to use another animal image. Hmm. Not positive that one’s any better. Well, okay, so they’re keeping an eye on you but running in a pack. Melody is dancing with everyone else, and if I was a betting man, I’d guess she’s asked her posse to step in.”

“To protect her from me?”

Tripp rubbed his jaw. “I’m going to give that question a miss. Enough of
this
topic. Hadleigh mentioned the trail ride and campout for the girls. I can’t be gone from this place for three days, but maybe I can get Jim on board so you aren’t completely outnumbered.”

It was a good suggestion. Jim Galloway, Tripp’s stepfather, had recently remarried and moved into town, but he’d always been a rancher and a rider and knew his way around the outdoors. Not only that, he had boundless patience and the appropriate grandfatherly demeanor.

“Ask him.” Spence might have said more, but right then his phone vibrated, and when he dug it out of his pocket, he saw it was dispatch. It wasn’t as if Junie didn’t know where he was, so he frowned. If she was calling him, it meant something.

He flicked a finger across his phone. “Hey.”

“You aren’t going to believe this, but we have another breakin. Thought you might want to know about this one, even though you aren’t on duty.”

He looked at the bright lanterns and listened to the laughter and swore inwardly. “Okay, give it to me.”

There was a brief hesitation before she said, “A guy out walking his dog heard the sound of breaking glass and realized it came from a house two doors down. He has a German shepherd, you know Curtis, and he walked over to look. Apparently, the dog was having fits, jerking him halfway across the yard, and he saw the window had been knocked out of the kitchen. He didn’t have his phone so he had to go home to call it in. By the time he did that and walked back, they were gone.” There was a pause. “You’ll recognize the address.”

It felt as if a leaden ball had settled in his stomach. He just
knew
. “Let me guess. Melody’s house?”

“You’ve got that right, boss.”

Her place was, after all, the perfect target. Small, valuable items. He took in a deep breath. “I’ll tell her, and we’ll be on our way.”

“From what the boys said, they didn’t do the interior any favors. Nothing actually destroyed, but they trashed it.”

“Are the cats okay?” That was going to be her first thought. If anyone broke into his house, he’d panic about Harley right off the bat. The dog would more likely be clamped to the thief’s backside with his full set of sharp teeth, but if the thief was armed, a dog didn’t stand a chance.

“No mention of any cats.”

“Tell whoever responded there should be three cats and to immediately block that window. Put some cardboard or something over it. Make sure they secure it. Also tell them not to touch a thing. We want fingerprints.”

“Got the message, boss.” Junie was a good dispatcher; she took everything in stride, always stayed calm.

There was no way he wanted to ruin the party. He ended the call and thought about it for a moment as he tried to regroup.

If he told Melody, she’d flip—because he couldn’t promise her that the cats were safe. She’d want to be there, searching for them. And he needed her there to assess the damage, identify everything that had been stolen. What he had to do, he decided, was figure out how to get her out of the party without letting anyone know the real reason for their abrupt departure.

Sometimes tried and true worked best.

He walked over to the dance floor, where she was doing a pretty impressive line dance, and stopped dead in front of her, caught her startled gaze and leaned over to scoop her up over his shoulder, bottom up, his arm clamped around her knees. “We’re leaving, everyone,” he announced, waving grandly. “This was some party.”

Laughter erupted.

Maybe the earlier dance
wasn’t
a mistake.

Melody made an inarticulate sound because his shoulder was no doubt pressing into her diaphragm and tried to kick him, but fortunately didn’t succeed.

Nothing like having the upper hand in a sneak attack, so to speak. He walked off the dance floor, resting his free hand on her bottom, whistled for Harley and marched to his truck.

“Are you insane?” she finally managed to get out, smacking him none too kindly in the middle of his back as he trudged across the area designated for guest vehicles. “Spence, what’s wrong with you?”

Laconically, he said, “It worked for Tripp.” He also remembered the night of the wedding, hauling her to his truck to spare her blistered feet.
That
maneuver had worked out well, he thought, as he remembered her in his bed the next morning...

“I’m less likely to marry you than ever!” she yelled.

“Nice to know you were even thinking about it. Take it easy, will you? I have my reasons, and I’ll tell you on our way back to town. I didn’t want to disrupt the festivities with bad news.”

She was seething, he could feel it, but that quieted her down a notch. “Like what?”

“Give me a minute.” He let the dog in the vehicle first, since Harley was the more tractable, and then deposited Melody in the front passenger seat. He took the liberty of buckling her seat belt, although he was risking a fist to his jaw, sternly told the dog to stay in the back and went around to the driver’s side.

The Wyoming stars were bright but his mood, needless to say, wasn’t. It seemed cruel not to be honest about a problem like this one, so he said without preamble, “I just got a call. Your house was broken into and probably robbed. They took out the kitchen window. I need you to stay calm and focus on any details that stand out. I have a deputy there, but I told him to not touch anything. I’m sorry about our exit from the party. I thought people might think it was funny if I just took you out of there in a sort of...dramatic fashion, and all that effort put into the party wouldn’t go to waste. There’s nothing anyone else can do. They might as well enjoy themselves.”