“You know we’re going to get married.”
“I’ve heard something about that. There’s going to be cheese.”
The flash of annoyance in his eyes made a corresponding wash of heat flood my chest. I liked it when he was riled up. Liked what it did to him. Liked what he did to me.
“I promised you. You agreed. We agreed I’d be the one to take care of this stuff. Catering.” He leaned down and suddenly my breathing had gone thin.
He pressed a soft kiss on the side of my throat, followed it with just enough teeth I had to press my lips together so I didn’t embarrass myself in front of my sister who was sitting at her computer typing away and pointedly ignoring us.
“Venue. Decoration. Cake.” Each word was delivered with another nip, bite, or kiss. I was getting a little dizzy, my knees gone soft.
“And cheese squeezers,” I gasped.
He lifted back, doing a very slow push up with his fingertips since his palms were still around both my wrists against the wall. It made his forearms flex, his biceps flex, and even though I couldn’t see them, I knew his pecs and abs were tightening too.
It was sexy as hell. He knew it, and he knew I knew it.
“That’s right,” he said in his bedroom voice, “and the cheese squeezers.”
I was nodding, but my mind was nowhere near the wedding part of the wedding, or the reception part of the wedding, instead veering toward the after party.
Sex. My mind was on the sex.
“You aren’t taking any of this seriously.” He pulled the rest of the way back, releasing me, and I made a noise of protest. I grappled for his hips, fingers hooking into his belt.
“I’m taking some of thisveryseriously.” I tried to tug him back toward me.
“No,” he said archly, turning his head to one side like a spurned debutante. “You’ve mocked my cheese.”
“C’mon. Just…let me make it up to you, babe. I’msuperserious about cheese. You were trying to get the Gouda, right? That sweet, sweet Gouda.”
“It was blue cheese, and you are a terrible liar.”
He kissed me on the tip of my nose then took another step back and held out his hand. “Phone please.”
“Promise me you won’t go ballistic on any more cheese factories today.”
He took a moment to consider. “Fine. Today.”
Myra snorted.
“I’m going to make this the best wedding of your life, you know.”
“Since it’s going to be the only wedding in my life,” I said, “that’s a pretty low bar.”
He looked over at Myra. “Tell your sister to take this seriously.”
Myra didn’t look up, but she waved a hand like she was trying to fend off annoying bugs. “I am not getting in the middle of this. I have a crime to solve.”
“Wehave a crime to solve,” I said.
“Yeah, well,Ihave a wedding to plan,” Ryder said.
“Before you get on with all that,” a voice said from the door, “I want you to know this isn’t what it looks like.”
We all looked over. Crow, who was actually the trickster god Raven, stood in our lobby, holding a headless penguin.
Chapter Five
