Page 124 of Single Malt Drama

He tapped his watch. “Would you look at that. If I don’t leave now to pick up your special guest, your entire plan will be ruined.”

“Think about it. Women aren’t mind readers.” I called over my shoulder as I slid into my cherry-red, antique Maserati. The car would have to go once the baby was born, but I’d enjoy every second of her until then.

Despite the power under the hood, I drove to my apartment in the French Quarter like a responsible adult—mostly. What can I say? I was running late.

I’d told Nico we were going out to dinner at a new frou-frou restaurant she’d been dying to try. We’d get around to it one day, but I was in no hurry to drop hundreds of dollars on a meal that consisted of food that looked like it’d been hit with a shrink ray. Tonight, we’d dine on filet mignon, lobster, and wedding cake.

I pulled into drive and waited while the gate groaned and creaked its way open. I’d been meaning to call the super about getting the damned thing fixed, but I’d been a little busy running one-fifth of the mob and planning a wedding. “For crying out loud. Hurry up.”

“I’m right here.” Laughing, Nico planted her hands on her hips.

“Wow.” My brain backfired. The woman was carrying my child, but you’d never know it from her slinky black dress. The filmy fabric hugged her chest and hips without revealing as much as a hint of skin—as if it’d been spray-glued to her body.

“I thought I’d save a few minutes and come downstairs so we didn’t miss our reservation.” She hurried to the passenger’s side, and I caught a glimpse of the back and the dress—or lack thereof.

Except for a thin line at the top, she was bare from her shoulders to the swell of her ass.

“Jesus, Nic. Are you trying to kill me with that dress?”

She slid into the car and ran her hand over her chest. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it, but it’s…sexy.” Smooth Marco, real smooth. I couldn’t exactly tell her two-hundred and fifty of our nearest and dearest would see her in it. Then again, what did I care? She was abso-freaking-lutely stunning.

“Like you with this car, I’m going to enjoy it until I’m too round to wear it.”

“I’m not complaining, and for the record, you’ll be the sexiest round lady ever to waddle the planet.” I put the car in reverse and headed back to the Garden District—the opposite direction of the restaurant.

“I have never and will never waddle.” Nico turned and stared over her shoulder. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“We’ve had a slight change of plans. My parents are throwing a little get together tonight. I told them we’d stop by before dinner.” I avoided making eye contact. The woman could ferret out a lie like a bloodhound on a rabbit.

“You changed the reservations?” Pursing her lips, she continued to stare.

“Yep.” I reached for her thigh but thought the better of it. She’d know something was up if I left a palm-shaped sweat stain on her dress. “My dad is doing surprisingly well. He was out of his wheelchair for a while today.”

“That’s wonderful news.” She sighed and folded her arms.

Shit. I’m messing this up.“Nic, I was thinking. We should get away before the baby is born. Somewhere tropical, just me and you. No security, no phones. A real honeymoon.”

“We had a real honeymoon in the bayou. Besides, we can’t go anywhere without security now that you’re a capo.” Once again, she sighed.

I opened the glove compartment and pulled out two passports. “Maybe not, but Mr. and Mrs. Fredrick Fassbender can go anywhere they want.”

Nico rolled her eyes. “All right, Mr. Fassbender, I’ll go on a second honeymoon with you, but it might have to wait a few weeks. I sent the designs to some friends in Paris…”

“And?” I held my breath waiting for her to continue. Launching her new clothing line meant the world to her, which meant it meant the world to me, too.

“They want me in Paris next week for a meeting.” She glanced at me as if worried I would tell her she couldn’t go.

“That’s fantastic, Nic. I’m so proud of you.” I brought her hand to my lips. “I could tag along if you want. Kick around Paris while you work, then head to Corsica and soak up some sun.”

Her eyes brightened. “I’d love that.”

I turned onto my parents’ street and frowned. Despite giving everyone specific instructions where to park, some of our guests hadn’t followed directions.

Nico leaned forward and studied the cars lining the road. “I thought you said this was a small get together?”

“Small is a relative term.” I pulled into the back entrance on the opposite side of the mansion from the tent and pretended my hand slipped onto the horn.

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