“Yee haw!”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sam
Mrs. Samantha Sutcliff. No hyphens. I write it again, this time with more curlicues. Done practicing, I sign the musician’s check. “Thank you so, so much.”
The cellist, a friend of Sienna’s, gives me a hug. “It was the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever played for.”
I have to agree. The surprise was amazing, too. I had no idea he had something up his sleeve, not even when he stopped in front of the church. It wasn’t until he held up the designer garment bag, I had a clue.
I’d pointed out this dress online to Rose and Mia but they’d convinced me it wasn’t appropriate for a formal wedding. Still, my heart cried out and I almost bought it despite their objections.
Today, as I slipped the silky fabric over my head, I couldn’t believe Suds purchased it for me. He’s such a big softy. What kind of bodyguard, ex-SEAL picks wildflowers, huh? His eyes glistened as I walked down the aisle and when he put the ring on my finger, he shook.
For that matter, so did I.
Sure, this was his dream, but deep down, it was mine too. I would never rob my parents of the big Brooklyn affair and we’ll still do it, only later. Today was so, so special. Something for Suds and I to cherish forever.
I catch his eye as he drives deeper into the woods. “I’m guessing we’re not going to Hawaii?”
“No.”
“Niagara Falls?”
He chuckles. “I never understood the whole honeymoon appeal. It seems like a lot of money to spend if all you really want to do is fuck.”
I laugh. “So practical.”
“And that’s why you love me.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sam
Two months later
“How did you manage to get us two weeks at the shore?” I sit with my toes in the ocean and my butt in the sand. Around me, little children chase the waves, trying not to get wet.
Their squeals and joyful noises set off my internal baby clock but I just smile, figuring I’m right on track.
Suds, relaxing on his back presses a knee into mine. “As long we keep up with our online investigating, we’ll be fine. If something requires field investigations, Slate says he has a few names in mind.”
“It sure was nice of Finnegan to throw us some work.”
“Nothing nice about it. You’re the best. You see connections even Jason misses.”
I grin at my husband’s praise but I’m sure the four musketeers impressed the negotiator the most. “Jason is an AI program, not a brain. It will never have the ability to make intuitive leaps. That’s why computers will never replace private eyes.”
“Good to know.” He grins. “How about a swim?”
“Sure.” I join him at the water’s edge where every woman from age twelve to ninety ogles his body.
“What?” He grins as I roll my eyes at the drooling teenagers twisting their heads as we walk by.
“Nothing.” Time for payback.
In my mind, there are three types of ocean people. Those that stay out of the water, those that go in slowly, and those that jump right in.
