Page 65 of Malicious Wedding

Chapter29

Carson

Ispend a sinful evening pleasuring my wife, followed by a dull afternoon hunting down Polish soldiers and cutting their throats, until it’s time to take my angel out for a nice dinner. She deserves it.

“What is this place?” she asks as we park outside of a restaurant not far from my apartment on an upscale block. It’s got a black door and no sign out front.

“It’s called Vines, and it’s a private, exclusive restaurant. Think of it like a members-only club, except for food.” I lead her inside. There are very few other diners—I don’t bother telling her that they’re all Crowley lieutenants—and we’re seated at the best table near the bar. A jazz trio plays soft music. I order us wine and request the tasting menu.

She looks around, lips pressed together. “Okay, I’ll admit, Smoke isn’t half as nice as this.”

“It could be if that’s what you wanted.”

She hesitates, sipping her drink. “No, I don’t think so. I like Smoke’s edges.”

“Edgesis a nice word for flaws.”

She rolls her eyes. “Look, you can insult me all you want, but Bottle of Smoke is my entire life, okay? You leave that place out of this.”

I lean back, holding up my hands. “I’d never. I’m only saying, Smoke has a certain kind of charm to it, and part of that charm comes from the flaws.”

“Please, you’ve never actually eaten there.”

“Actually, I have.”

Her eyebrows raise. “I don’t think so. I would’ve noticed you.”

“I ate there four years ago on a night you weren’t around. The food was good. The music was too loud, and the waitress working at the time had an attitude, but it was nice.”

She laughs once. “You must’ve gotten Janice. God, she really was snotty. I’m glad she’s gone.” She shakes her head. “It’s hard to believe you actually ate at Smoke once, even years ago, and now here we are.”

“Is it really so strange? My second-in-command’s sister owns and operates a bar. I was in the neighborhood and I decided to give it a try.”

She leans forward on her elbows. “Do you think you would’ve talked to me? If I was there that night?”

I stare at her, trying not to lose control. “Yes,” I say, voice huskier than I expected.

Which is why I chose that night to begin with.

Because I couldn’t let myself get too close to her. Going to Smoke at all was an enormous risk.

But going on a night when she’d physically be there? That would’ve been akin to suicide.

She blinks slowly, head tilted to the side, mouth hanging open. Then she clears her throat. “I bet you would’ve said something rude. That’s sort of your thing, isn’t it?”

“To everyone else but you.”

“What a charmer.”

Food begins to arrive. Small plates at first: mussels, stuffed mushrooms, tiny pot pies, bacon-wrapped asparagus. Simple but delicious, and it keeps coming. We talk about inconsequential things. The house, my job, some of my properties. I explain what I do for a living, which is basically manage a small business of criminals.

Toward the end of the meal, she asks me about Iain. “Tell me about my brother. I feel like I barely know him now.”

“He’s been a loyal lieutenant,” I say, sipping a glass of brandy, watching her across the cleared table. “Good at certain aspects of his job. Over his head with others.”

Her cheeks are flushed red from drinking too much. It’s adorable and only makes me want her more. “If he’s so loyal, how come he slept with that girl and got himself shot?”

I nod in acknowledgment. “Iain is loyal, but he’s also emotional and impulsive.”

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