Page 50 of Tell Me (Savannah 3)

“Must’ve been all that talk about bows and flowers and menus and seating arrangements.”

“Don’t remind me.” Sliding a glance up at him, she added, “You were right. We should’ve eloped.”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “There’s still time, Gillette,” he said and made a big show of glancing at his watch. “We could make the border by midnight.”

“What border? Canada? Florida? We’re not underage or running off to Mexico or Las Vegas or wherever.”

“Not after your mother’s deposit on the country club ballroom or whatever it is.”

“Her idea, not mine,” Nikki reminded him, still slightly bugged that Charlene had insisted on paying for the church, pastor, and reception. Nikki had picked up the tab for her dress, bought on sale, Lily’s gown as maid of honor, and Phee’s frothy frock, as she was slated to be the flower girl. Nikki had argued, but her mother knew her financial state and had waited years to put her stamp on a wedding, so behind her daughter’s back, she’d high-handedly put down a substantial and only partially refundable deposit at the country club to secure the wedding date. “It’s what your father would have wanted,” she’d said after Nikki, horrified, had learned of the deed, a week after the fact.

“I thought we were just looking at the place,” Nikki had protested.

“We had to move fast. Snap it up. The Christmas season, it’s very popular, weekend dates don’t last past June,” was Charlene’s excuse.

So now here she was, facing a large wedding that had never been her idea. At least, though, she was marrying the love of her life. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed Reed a little more soundly and felt his hands slide down to cup her buttocks.

“This won’t work,” he said, around her open mouth.

“What won’t?”

“Seducing me into letting you come with me to the prison tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

He squeezed one of her buttock cheeks. “Then, by all means, seduce me to your heart’s content.”

“I will, Detective,” she said, sliding a hand beneath his shirt to touch the taut muscles of his abdomen. “You can count on it.”

“One,” he whispered into the shell of her ear. “Two.” Her fingers delved beneath the waistband of his slacks. “Three.” She released his zipper and it slid with a slow hiss. “Okay, darlin’. That’s it!” He swept her off her feet and carried her unceremoniously to the bedroom, where he fell with her onto the mattress. “One hundred.”

CHAPTER 15

“If she asks, I’ll put in a good word for you. That’s the best I can do,” Reed said, knotting his tie at the full-length mirror and seeing Nikki standing behind him in the reflection. She’d gotten up first, showered, dressed, spent time on her hair and makeup, and now, having gathered her coat and computer case, looked as if she intended to either jump in the car with him or follow him to Fairfield Prison.

“You have to let me come with you,” she insisted for the sixth or seventh time.

His gaze found hers in the mirror. “Nikki, don’t. Okay? We discussed this.”

“But really, I’m sure I could help. She’s more likely to open up to me.”

“She won’t even see you,” he said, jerking on the tie and scowling.

“But I knew Amity, I was in their home a couple of times, even met Blondell before.”

“Doesn’t change anything.”

“And I recently talked to Blythe.”

He sent her an irritated glance. “I know, and I wish you’d back off. I’m the lead detective, and I can’t have my soon-to-be-wife out messing with my witnesses. Don’t you see how impossible that is?”

“I’m a reporter and a crime writer. This is what I do.”

“Not on my cases,” he said sharply. “Go report on the serial murderer who’s terrorizing Chicago.”

“You want to get rid of me?”

“You know what I mean. I’m not giving up my work, just because we’re getting married. Nik, if our relationship is going to work—”

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