Weddings Can Be Murder (18 page)

He leaned forward. “It’s not our fault.”

“And you think that makes a difference?” she asked.

His Adam’s apple went up and down. “Actually, it does make me feel better. Especially now that the wedding is off.”

“Well, I’m just thrilled you feel better, but I have news for you. It doesn’t make it right.”

He turned the soda can in his hands. “It’s not as if Katie and I broke up because of this. We both agreed we were wrong—”

“Wrong. Now there’s a word for you. As in
this
—this you-and-I thing—is wrong.” She shook her head. “Wrong.”

“Why? Why is it so wrong?”

“Why? Are you
dense
?”

“No.” He frowned. “However, I have had a bad, very bad day, and my brain might not be functioning at normal level. So why don’t you explain it to me.”

“You were engaged to my best friend. Does that ring a bell?”

He leaned back. “So, because I was involved with Katie, you can’t be involved with me?”

“You’re finally catching on.” She popped up from the chair and went to toss her drink in the garbage.

From behind, she heard him. “You don’t lie worth a shit.”

She swung around. Joe had the photo album in his hands again.

“It isn’t about Katie.
This
is why you won’t get involved with me.”

Carl stared at Red, and her words bounced around his skull. “
I canceled the wedding
.”

“Why?” Oh, hell, did he even care why? She wasn’t engaged anymore. The air suddenly tasted sweeter.

“Because you were right,” she answered.

“Right about what?” He stared at her.

“About the reasons I was getting married. About me flushing my ring. I don’t love Joe. No, I
do
love Joe, but I love Joe like I love Mike.”

“Who’s Mike?” he asked.

“He is…was my brother.” She gripped her hands together. “He was in the car accident.”

“You lost your brother in the accident, too? Damn!”

She nodded. “Yeah. Damn.”

He felt guilty for standing there feeling overjoyed while talking to her about her deceased family. And that’s when it hit. His world shifted again and he remembered his own grieving experience. His mother. Amy. Right then all the reasons he’d stayed away from women like Katie came rushing back. Reasons that had nothing to do with her being engaged or free. Letting himself get close to Katie Ray could only end in some serious hurt.

She continued talking. “I don’t know how you feel about me, but…” Her tongue came out to swipe across her bottom lip.

He pressed a finger to her mouth. Desire shot through him so quick, so fast, his breath lodged in his lungs. Whatever it cost him later, the plea sure he would experience now would be worth it. He moved his hand from
her lips to touch a strand of hair hanging down beside her ear.
Soft. Silky
.

“I think you know how I feel, Red.”

She smiled that sweet, innocent smile of hers. And that’s when it hit him again. He might be willing to pay the price, but was she? Was she expecting more than he could offer?

“Are you sure you want to pursue this?” he asked. “Think about it. You rock babies. You watch
The Brady
Bunch
.” She was so out of his league. Just the type he avoided.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He had to be honest. She had to know what she was getting into if she pursued their attraction. Letting out a deep sigh, trying not to watch her tongue make another pass over her lips, he forced himself to say it. “I want you. I want all of you. But I don’t plan to be
The Brady Bunch
. I’ve never even watched the damn show.”

She blinked, and he could see her mind working—as if asking herself if she could play by his rules.

He ran his finger over her lips again. “I don’t make promises I don’t plan to keep. I don’t even pretend to make them. But please make my day, Red. Tell me you’re interested in what I can offer. Tell me that today, now, will be enough.”

Joe let Les take the photo album from him. “I think you should leave,” she said.

He stood up, made it almost to the kitchen door before he thought,
What the hell
. He swung around. “And will that solve anything, Les? If I walk out of here, are you going to stop feeling so damn guilty?”

“I don’t feel guilty.” Her green eyes shot fire at him.

“Bull. It’s all over your face. You don’t want to feel anything for me because in some insane way, feeling something for me means what you felt for Katie’s brother didn’t mean anything.”

Her chin snapped up. And all Joe could think about was how sexy she was when she got mad.

“Jeezus! When did you get your shrink license, Mr. Lyon?”

“I don’t need a license, Les. I saw you naked. Naked except for a dead man’s engagement ring around your neck.”

She closed her eyes. “Please go.”

“You think I haven’t noticed that every time I get close to you, you reach up for that damn ring? I’m not blind.”

Her eyes opened, angrier now than when she’d shut them. “Maybe I’m still connected to Mike. But even if I wasn’t, I couldn’t do this. Do you know how awkward it would be?”

“We could deal with awkward. Awkward would fade.”

She shook her head. Her blonde wispy hair shimmered around her shoulders and his fingers itched to touch it. To touch her. To know every inch of her body. He wanted to chase away the pain she felt at having lost Katie’s brother. He wanted to see her smiling at him the way she’d been smiling at the man in those pictures.

She reached for her ring; then as if she realized what she was doing, she stopped. “I would rather die than hurt Katie.”

He gripped his hand to keep from reaching out to her. “Katie and I are over. How would it hurt her? I’ll bet if you asked Katie—”

“Oh, please! Katie would never admit to being hurt about anything if there’s a chance that it would hurt someone else.” She stormed across the room. “Katie gives up a Saturday a month to rock babies. She’d sacrifice her own happiness for anyone she loves. She wanted to be an artist all her fucking life, and what happens? Her parents tell her it doesn’t make them happy, and poof, suddenly, Katie stops painting.”

“And that was wrong?” Joe baited her.

“Of course it’s wrong.”

“Then how is this between us any different, Les?
You’re refusing to explore something that we should explore because you’re afraid of hurting Katie.”

“You’re twisting this all around,” she snapped.

“I’m not twisting anything. What if you and I were meant to be together? What if we miss out on something because—”

A banging noise came from the other room. Les did a complete mental shift. She remembered Mimi and took off.

No Mimi in the living room. Then the noise came again. Les swung around and watched as the wind caught the open door and banged it against the wall. And there, there beside the open door, was Mimi’s sweater. “No, no, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

Les didn’t answer; she took off in a dead run down the hall to Mimi’s bedroom and prayed, prayed with everything she had, that Mimi was still in bed.

No Grandma.

“No!” Then she flew back out the hall and ran outside. Her gaze zipped left and right. Her heart pounded. “Mimi?” Tears clouded Les’s vision when there wasn’t a wrinkled, smiling old lady wearing pink shoes anywhere in sight.

Joe came up behind her. “Make sure she’s not in the house. Then we’ll drive around. She can’t have gotten too far.”

Panic swirled in Les’s head. “I should call the police.”

“We’ll call on my cell. But first, check the house.”

Carl stared at Red while indecision played across her face. “I want this,” she whispered.

Music to his ears. His heart commenced beating again. That’s all he needed. The green light. The taste of victory lay sweet on his tongue. But he longed to taste her instead. How long before he had her naked in his arms—in his bed. Would she come with him now?

“But …” She reached up and toyed with his shirt collar. “You’re right. It would be a mistake.”

“I didn’t say it would be a mistake.”

Her smile broke his heart. “No, you didn’t. I guess I came to that conclusion all by myself.”

And he had to respect that. He did. He told himself to go, but instead he leaned down and did the one thing he had to do before he walked away. One taste. That’s all he wanted.

He kissed her.

He meant it to be a quick kiss, just enough so when he dreamed of her, he’d know her taste. But quick got lost when she melted against him like warm butter, when her mouth opened and invited his tongue to explore. Quick didn’t exist when her sweet body burrowed even closer.

Close enough that he felt her tight nipples against his chest, close enough that the throbbing ache between his legs was cradled against her abdomen.

But not close enough.

He dropped his hand to the curve of her ass. Wanting to touch skin, he caught the material of her skirt and raised it.

His fingers brushed against her silk panties, but he wanted what lay softer beneath her underwear. He found the elastic band of her panties where her bottom met the back of her thigh. He slipped his fingers inside. Her bare ass was so soft, so—

“Ah,
Dios
!” The voice was like a knee to the balls.

Carl jumped back so fast Katie nearly fell. He caught her by her forearm while she yanked her skirt down.

“Pretend I was never here.” The Latina took off.

He looked back at Katie, embarrassment flaming on her cheeks. She brushed his hand from her arm and took a step back.

That small step said it all. Nothing had changed. The kiss, the hottest damn kiss he’d ever experienced, hadn’t
made a difference in her decision. He turned to leave. To walk away.

“Carl?”

Her voice stopped him. He swung around. Hope built in his chest so fast his lungs ached. “Come home with me, Red.”

Katie shook her head. “I can’t. I just wanted to say…thank you. For the painting. I’ll cherish it. More than you’ll ever know.”

He nodded. Then, before he embarrassed himself by begging, before he pulled her back into his arms and made love to her right there in the middle of the fucking gallery, in the middle of fucking daylight, before he made that big fucking mistake, he walked away.

Les talked to the police while Joe drove; her gaze zipped from one side of the street to the other. Panic bit into her chest and hung there. Before they’d left, she’d run to her mom’s neighbor and got her to stay at the house just in case Mimi came back or someone called.

“She couldn’t have been gone more than twenty minutes,” she told the police. “I thought she was taking a nap.”

“We’ll have someone out looking in the area,” the officer said.

Les folded the phone closed and bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. How could she have done this? How could she have let it happen?

Fear hit her again. Fear that Mimi was hurt, or worse. A moan leaked from her lips.

Joe reached over and took her hand. “We’ll find her.”

Les’s first instinct was to jerk away, to blame him, but she couldn’t do it. She’d been the one in charge. She’d been the one on Mimi duty and had failed.

Joe turned around and started down another street. Then he slammed on his brakes. “I saw her!”

“Where?”

“Down that side street.”

Les reached for the door.

“No, let me turn around.”

“Thank you, God!” Les bounced around in her seat, wanting, needing to see Mimi herself, to know she was okay.

Joe made the turn and pulled up to the curb, and Les saw her. Her heart gave a jolt. Les jumped out of the car and ran over to where another lady sat in her car talking to her grandma. Her very naked grandma. Les didn’t care that her grandma was naked, didn’t care that other cars were pulling off to the side and honking their horns. She ran over and pulled Mimi into a hug. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly, Joe was there stripping off his coat. “Let’s put this on,” he told Mimi in a calm voice that didn’t match the situation.

Mimi smiled at him. “Like my new shoes,” she said.

“Yes,” Joe said. “They are very pretty.”

Les turned to the lady who was obviously trying to help before they showed up. “Thank you,” she said.

“I’m assuming she belongs to you.” The lady smiled.

“Yes.” Les brushed the tears from her face.

When she turned back to Joe and Mimi, she saw he had yanked off his sweater and, with the care one would take with a baby, he carefully tied it around Mimi’s waist to cover her bottom half.

“Let’s get her in the car,” he said, and took Mimi’s hand.

“Yes.” Les bit down on her lip and started for the car. “Do you think we should take her to the hospital? Just to make sure she’s okay?”

Joe looked back at Mimi. “She looks fine, but I’ll be more than happy to drive you there.”

Les gave her grandma another once-over. “Are you okay, Mimi?” Mimi just smiled.

Les looked back at Joe. “Let’s take her back to the house. Mom should be home soon, and I’ll see if she thinks we should take her in.” As she took another step,
she saw her grandmother’s clothes on the side of the road, and she went to grab them.

Rising up, Les watched as a naked-from-the-waist-up Joe helped her grandma, covered with a man’s coat and sweater, get into his car. Her heart did a strange wiggle. In her mind, she heard Katie saying,
The first time I met
Joe, I thought, “Wow, Les would totally love this man.”

Katie had been right.

Fighting that crazy thought, Les hurried to his car.

After several deep breaths, Katie stepped into Lola’s office. “I’m sorry, that was so unprofessional.”
So un-Ray-
like
.

Lola grinned. “This isn’t a church,
chica
.”

“It’s not a motel, either.” Katie dropped into the chair across from Lola’s desk. Her tears threatened to fall.

“Art inspires passion. Too bad he’s married,” Lola said.

A wave of shame ran through Katie. “He’s not married. I thought it was his brother when I said that.”

Lola raised her hand, her bracelets jingling. “Then why stop?”

“Because he’s not right for me.”

Laughter twinkled in her boss’s dark eyes. “From what I saw, he looked pretty right for you.”

“He’s a playboy.”

Lola leaned in. “Then play with him.”

Katie’s words came from the heart: “I wish I was made like that. But I’m not. It has to mean something, or I just can’t give myself to it.” But she almost had, hadn’t she?

“Then tame the playboy. Make it mean something.”

Katie cut Lola a doubtful look. “Did he look tamable to you?”

Lola chuckled and raised a dark brow. “You have a point.”

Pulling at her hair, Katie frowned. “I hate to ask this, but…would it be too much if I left for the day?”

Lola looked at her. “You should have never come to
work today with everything that happened. Go. And take tomorrow, too.”

Katie started to argue—Rays didn’t skip out on work—then she decided maybe this Ray deserved it. Just once. “Thank you.”

Carl drove two blocks away and pulled into a parking lot. He sat in his car, counted to fifty, and waited for the ache in his chest and in his dick to fade. Not even as a randy teen had he wanted a woman this bad. But holy hell, he had to get past this. Get past her.

But, wait. It wasn’t just her. It was the damn fact that he hadn’t allowed himself to be with a woman for almost a year.

He snatched his cell phone from his coat pocket. This problem could be fixed. He tried to remember Peggy’s last name. “Peggy Little.” Peggy was safe. Divorced, two kids. She’d ruled out marriage, ruled out full-time relationships, but loved occasional sex. Why hadn’t he called her already?

He couldn’t remember her number. He could dial information. She was listed. One call, and he’d have her number. One call to her and he was as good as laid. Peggy liked sex. Peggy loved hot sex. He was two calls away from being laid. So why the hell wasn’t he dialing?

His phone rang. He stared at the caller ID.
Ben
. Snapping open the phone, he asked, “You got those background checks yet?”

Ben ignored the question. “How’d your date go?” Their dad must have blabbed.

“None of your damned business.”

“What crawled up your ass and put you in such a good mood?”

“You did. What’s this crap about you giving Dad your blessing to get hitched?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Jessie’s great.”

Carl gripped the phone. “He’s in his sixties.”

“Give it up, Carl. Dad deserves to be happy. Mom’s been dead for sixteen years. And he did nothing the first eight but raise us. He loves Jessie and deserves to be happy.”

Carl frowned and gave up trying to reason with unreasonable people. “Have you got information on the list of names?”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“Anything interesting?” Carl shifted.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Problem is that none of them is lily white. Mel Grimes, the photographer…he had a problem with prescription drugs a few years back. Jack Edwards, our florist, he has a thing about beating up girlfriends. Todd Sweet did seven years for robbing a…of all things, a bakery. His real name isn’t Sweet. And Will Reed—this one is interesting. No trouble in the last five years, but earlier, he had a weakness for setting fires.”

“And where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Carl said, remembering how close he and Red had been to being toast.

“Could be,” Ben said. A pause lingered. “Dad said you were paying these guys a visit today. Don’t go messing with my case.”

“I’m telling them I’m getting married. Just feeling them out for vibes.”

“Well, guys like this don’t like their vibes checked. I really wish you’d leave this to us,” Ben said.

“I used to be one of the ‘us,’ remember? I can take care of myself.”

“And you got the scars to prove it, too,” Ben said.

“You’re just jealous that I’ve been shot and you haven’t.”

“Yeah. That’s what I want, to catch a bullet so I can prove I’m a real man.” Ben sighed. “You said you heard this guy’s voice. Do you think you could recognize it?”

“I’ve thought about that. But he said three words to
me. I’ve spoken to a couple of the suspects on the phone and didn’t get anything. But who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky in person.”

“Lucky?” Ben paused. “You’re a pain in my ass, but my kid and wife love you. Don’t rely on luck. Be careful.”

Katie got in her car and just sat there. She had originally planned to go to the hotel she and Les stayed at last night, to crawl under the covers and have herself a pity cry. And it was such a pity, too. She couldn’t ever remember feeling…so turned on. Oh, she’d heard people talk about being desperate with desire, lost with lust, hot to trot, but honestly, she’d just thought they’d been exaggerating.

Sure, she enjoyed sex. Not so much with Joe, but before Joe. She’d even had one or two experiences she considered great. But she’d never, ever, been so caught up in one kiss that she’d let a man pull up her skirt and stick his hands in her panties in the middle of the day, in the middle of a public place, with her boss less than ten feet away.

Rays didn’t do that.

But Rays didn’t crater, either. So she picked herself up by the heels of her Nine West shoes and made a new plan. No hiding under the covers. She had a wedding to cancel and deposit checks to get back.

Talking about money was something she could control. Unlike the bizarre got-you-by-the-throat sexual attraction she’d felt earlier with Carl. That was not controllable. Besides, staying busy kept her from cratering.

She could do it on the phone, but face-to-face contact upped her chances of getting her money back. Not that she would be in financial woes if she didn’t, but Rays were money wise and this was the wise thing to do. Especially after deciding to pay Joe back for the engagement ring she’d flushed down the john.

So she pulled out her wedding book where she kept
everyone’s info and headed first to see Todd Sweet, the cake baker.

Carl stood on the porch. Mel Grimes, the photographer, opened the door on the third knock. He looked half-asleep. Carl recalled the information about the man having had a prescription drug problem. His green eyes were bloodshot. He wore navy Dockers and a white shirt, but the clothes looked crumpled, as if he’d slept in them.

“Can I help you?” Good ol’ Mel didn’t look happy.

But neither was Carl. “I’m Carl Hades. We had an appointment at ten and you weren’t here.”

Grimes frowned. “I thought that appointment was tomorrow.”

“Not according to my notes.” Carl pulled out his pad.

Grimes stepped back. “Come in. I’ll give you one of my portfolios.” He motioned Carl into the office right off the entryway. Hanging on the walls were all sorts of photography—family portraits, some wildlife shots, a couple of artsy shots of trees, even a couple of nudes. None were of brides.

“Looks as if you’ll shoot anything.”
Pun intended
.

Grimes settled behind a desk and pulled open a file cabinet. “I photograph what catches my eye.”

“And brides catch your eye?” Carl studied his reaction.

“Not really, but I have to make a living.” Grimes grinned. “Not that I’m not good at shooting weddings.” He pulled out a folder and pushed it over toward Carl. “Here are some samples of my wedding shots. My prices are listed in the back. Take it with you. Show it to your fiancée.”

Carl listened to the man speak and tried to remember the man’s voice at Ms. Jones’s house. No bells were ringing, but who could tell.

“I will.”
His fiancée
. Why did a vision of Red fill his head? He gazed at the nude of a brunette. Peggy, the
single mom who liked sex, was a brunette. He could call her when he left. Set up a date, get Red out of his system.

“I sell prints, if you’re interested,” Grimes said, as if noting Carl’s lingering gaze. “I had a show last year.” Grimes went on for about five minutes talking about his photography. In spite of Carl’s initial reaction, Grimes was coming off normal enough.

Flipping open the folder, Carl studied the images. Normal wedding shots. “Can we come back and talk to you later?”

“Sure.” Grimes stood up as if eager to get rid of him.

Carl stood. Grimes followed him to the door.

“Aren’t you the one who left a card? You’re a PI, right?”

“That’s me.” Carl cut him another look, trying to read him.

“If you ever need to hire a photographer to get images of people doing what people shouldn’t be doing, I’d be interested.” Grimes grinned.

“I generally do my own. But I’ll remember you,” Carl said.

“Do that, and call me if your girl likes my work.”

Carl got in his car. Resting his folder on the steering wheel, he jotted down some notes.
First impression, not so
good. Second impression…normal guy
.

Carl always trusted his first impression.

Les sat at the doctor’s office between her mom and Mimi. Her mom flipped through a magazine. Mimi pulled at the loose strings on her sweater. Les clutched her hands.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Les blurted.

Mom put down the magazine. “I’ve already told you, it’s not your fault. And I’m sure she’s fine. Look at her, we’re only here to be on the safe side.”

“I know, but I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Her mom reached over Les and stopped Mimi from pulling a hole in her sweater. Then she looked to Les.
“Sweetie, she got away from me about three weeks ago. Luckily, she’d only gotten as far as Mr. Gomez’s house. But”—she smiled—“he had a rude awakening walking into his kitchen and finding your grandma sitting naked at his table.”

Les grinned, then sighed. “How do you do this everyday?”

Mom frowned. “It’s not easy, but sometimes life doesn’t offer us choices.” Her smile returned. “Let’s forget worrying about that and tell me about this friend of Katie’s who helped you with Mimi. Is he in Katie’s wedding? Is he…cute?”

Les hesitated, trying to think how to explain it to her mom.

“Oh, I forgot,” Mom said. “You got a call from someone who needed to talk to Katie about the wedding. He said he got your number from Katie’s file. He tried to reach her at her house. I told him you two girls were staying at the hotel for a mental vacation.” She picked up a new magazine.