Chapter Sixteen
Luke heard Marigoldshout for Quinn to wait. He caught up to her at the stairs. “I’ll go after her.” He handed Marigold the phones he’d collected from the Orson women. “Take these to Rick to clean.”
Getting Alisa to give up her phone had been as difficult as getting a piece of steak away from a pit bull. He was lucky he still had his fingers.
He heard Quinn’s door slam, and he knocked before entering. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” he heard her say from the bathroom along with some colorful expletives. The toilet flushed.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” she said as came into the bedroom again. “I can’t believe how freaking vulnerable I am. He watched me and listened to me, and now I found out that not even my phone was safe. I feel gross, like scrubbing myself down with bleach wouldn’t get me clean.”
“He had no right,” Luke snarled. “I swear to Loki, I will rip him apart with my bare hands.”
“If only you had bear hands.” Quinn sighed. “He knows, Luke. If he read my text, he knows you’re not a bear shifter.”
“Not a what?” Melody stormed into the bedroom. She waved her hands. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. The first guest has arrived.”
“The party doesn’t start for an hour.”
“I know that,” Melody said frantically. “Don’t you think I know that? I sent out the invitations. But it’s Geraldine Wilder, and I’m not about to turn her away at the door for being early. Oh, and she’s brought a human woman along with her. I need you to get dressed and get downstairs, Quinn Ann. Now.”
Luke was glad to hear Gerri Wilder had arrived. The woman obviously knew something about Trey’s plans, or she wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of disguising Luke. When Melody rushed out as quickly as she had rushed in, Luke walked over to Quinn.
“You look beautiful,” he said. He kissed her cheek and inhaled her deeply. A memory that would sustain him overseas. “Whatever happens tonight, you will get through it. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
“Luke,” Quinn said.
Marigold knocked at the open door. “Bad timing? I can wait out in the hall.”
“Good timing,” Luke said. He stepped back from Quinn and felt like he was stepping back from life itself. Even though his heart was breaking, he offered her a gentle smile. “I’ll see you down stairs.”
After he had left Quinn’s bedroom, he bee-lined for the first floor ballroom. That’s where Melody would have put the honored guests. The vetted bartenders and caterers were still setting up, but the place was lavish with a full hot buffet, trays of finger foods, elaborate flower arrangements, and a classical string quartet warmed their fingers. Mrs. Wilder stood by a plate of hors d'oeuvres, and Luke heard her telling her companion, a short, dark haired woman in a conservative, yet attractive black evening dress, how mini quiches were overrated as a party snack.
He strolled across the large room, and when Gerri saw him, she smiled. “Luke, so nice to see you.”
Her human companion turned around, and Luke immediately recognized her. Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Dashwood. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I would have told you I was coming if you’d have bothered to answer any of my phone calls.”
Luke blanched. She wasn’t wrong. “I’m busy with an assignment right now. You didn’t have to arrange a ruse to see me.”
“This isn’t a ruse. Gerri invited me to the party. That’s all. I thought it might be fun. I don’t get out often.”
Mrs. Wilder tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear. “Your mother is my friend. I’m not allowed to bring a friend?” The corner of her mouth tugged up in a side smile.
What could Luke say that wouldn’t make himself sound or look worse? Nothing. He had behaved abominably toward his mother, the quintessential bad son. “I should have called you.”
“Yes,” Ronnie agreed.
“Who is this?” Quinn asked.
Luke jumped. He hadn’t even realized she was behind him. When he saw her, his heart stopped beating, his breath ceased, and his whole existence was turned upside down on its head. She wore a gown of white with silver beads and crystals that hugged Quinn’s every sensual curve. Luke’s mouth went dry as he tried to form words. “Uhm, Quinn, this is my mom, Ronnie. Mom this is Quinn.”
“The woman of the hour,” Ronnie said. “You are lovely.”
Mrs. Wilder grinned. “One hot mamma,” she said. “In that dress, you’d make men give up whole nations.”
