Eighth Grave After Dark (7 page)

She laughed softly, the act easing some of the tension from her shoulders. “Do you think Robert will like it?”

“Please,” I said, astounded she had to ask. “Uncle Bob is going to trip over his own tongue when he gets a load of you.”

She crinkled her nose and giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Mom,” Amber said as she stared in awe. “You're so beautiful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You're gorgeous.”

Amber dropped her gaze and kicked an invisible layer of dirt bashfully.

“Are we really doing this?” Cookie asked me.

“Hon, if we don't do this, I think that man of yours is going to kidnap you and take you to Mexico. Or Vegas. Or Romania. You two are getting married one way or another.”

She dropped her gaze. “I'm sorry we're getting married now of all times.”

“What?” I asked, my voice an octave too high. “What are you talking about?”

“I just, I don't want to take away from the birth of your first child. This is such a special time for you.”

“Cookie Marie Kowalski, how dare you even think such a thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that my uncle will disown me if I don't make certain you walk up that aisle in the next few minutes.”

She laughed and hugged me. Amber joined us in a three-way just as Gemma walked into the room. My sister stood taken aback, a hand placed gently over her mouth for a solid thirty seconds before she shook out of her stupor and waved us forward. Thick droplets glistened between her lashes as she rushed us out of the room and down the stairs. We met Bianca and the kids at the bottom. Ashley's dress was a smaller version of Amber's. Her curls were also piled high on her head with tiny bronze butterflies inhabiting the thick mass. Stephen looked dapper in a black tux and bow tie to match the men's. After Bianca explained their roles again, she went to sit with her husband, Amador, as Gemma escorted us to the back door, where we would step onto the strip of green turf that led to the altar.

Ashley kept twirling in her dress, leaving petals in her wake, while Stephen fidgeted with his tie.

“We'd better do this before we lose them,” I said.

Gemma gave us all quick hugs, then went to join Wyatt.

We all took deep breaths as the wedding music started. We sent Stephen down the aisle first, carrying the pillow with the quintessential promise rings. Ashley was next, dropping amber rose petals as she waved and posed for pictures.

I turned to Cookie, forcing myself not to cry. Not yet. There was a time and a place for tears at a wedding, and this was neither. But I couldn't help it. I leaned in and gave her one more colossal hug as a tear escaped despite my best efforts. I gave Amber a quick peck on the cheek, turned, and walked down the aisle.

I had it all planned. I was going to stare straight ahead. I was going to concentrate on my breathing. I was going to focus on not tripping. And it was all going according to plan. I looked at my uncle as he stood waiting for his bride. He looked amazing. Hair and mustache neatly trimmed. Black tux. White shirt. Crisp bow tie. The fact that he looked uncomfortable made me crack a minuscule smile, but I managed to keep my composure as I kept walking, kept breathing, and kept the tears at bay.

Then it happened. My eyes landed on Reyes Alexander Farrow. My uncle's best man, standing in the same black tux, starched white shirt, and black bow tie that my uncle wore. But they seemed worlds apart. Reyes looked like he was born for the finer things in life. His hair had been trimmed since that morning. How any man could look just as sexy in a dirty T-shirt and ragged jeans as he did in a formal tux and bow tie was beyond my immediate comprehension. But the pi
è
ce de r
é
sistance was simply Reyes himself. His wide shoulders, powerful even beneath the layers of tailored clothing. His face startlingly handsome. His jaw strong, his mouth sculpted to perfection. His thick dark lashes casting minute shadows across his cheeks. And his hair. It was shorter now, but thick dark curls still hung over his forehead. Curled around his ears. He looked like a supermodel. Something exotic and rare. Something not of this world.

One corner of his full mouth tipped up as he watched me watch him. Then the slightest arching of his left brow, and my knees almost gave beneath me. I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.

Then I heard a whisper beside me. I looked to my left. Denise sat glaring at me while Gemma's eyes were wide with panic. My heart sped up. My eyes widened to match hers. I was suddenly panicking, too, only I had no idea why. She nodded toward the front, and I realized I had stopped. The moment my gaze landed on Reyes, I had stopped.

I quickly stared straight ahead, squared my shoulders, and continued down the aisle, wondering if anyone noticed the five-minute pause in the procession. Hopefully not. And if they did, I had a kid fermenting in my belly. I could chalk it up to Beep. But my cheeks burned either way.

I thought Reyes might laugh at me. Or at the very least, find my faux pas amusing, but when I looked over at him again, he was not laughing. He was not even smiling. He had darkened again, his expression almost dangerous as he took me in. He could feel my reaction to him and I, in turn, could feel his reaction to me. How he could have such a reaction with me looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy astonished me. He was kinky. I'd take it.

Once I got to the front, I stepped aside and turned, waiting for the gorgeous bride. The “Wedding March” began to play through the speakers and everyone stood as Cookie and Amber stepped out into the light of the warm fall afternoon. They strolled to the front slowly, taking their time, letting people snap pictures and whisper words of praise.

But my attention had turned to Uncle Bob, and I wished I'd thought to have someone record him, because his reaction to Cookie was worth all the coffee in Albuquerque. No, New Mexico. No! The world!

He sucked in a sharp breath of air at the sight of her, his mouth slightly open, his expression reflecting all the amazement and doubt that was so Uncle Bob. I could tell right then and there he wondered what she saw in him. And I wanted to tell him:
That
. That humbleness. That appreciation of her. That love for both her and Amber. No, not just love. Respect. He respected her. He respected Amber. He was truly grateful for them both. There was no greater gift.

When they reached the front, the minister raised his hands and gestured for everyone to sit. After the guests settled, he asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

Amber spoke, her voice quivering only a little. “I, her daughter, Amber Kowalski.”

She turned to Cookie, her blue eyes shimmering. She gave her a quick hug, then took Cookie's hand and placed it gently into Uncle Bob's, giving him permission to marry her mother. There was no higher honor. The happiness ricocheting inside me for my cantankerous uncle knew no bounds.

The minister smiled his approval, and I nodded to Quentin, who was sitting in the front row. He stood, took Amber's arm into his, and led her to her seat. The whole exchange was formal and sweet and reverent, and once again I fought with every ounce of strength I had to hold back the floodtide threatening to erupt within me.

The minister went through the vows quickly, garnering an “I will” from both the bride and the groom. And while it wasn't easy for me to take my eyes off the beautiful couple in front of me, I simply could not keep from staring at my husband. I had never seen anything so stunning. His dark skin in stark contrast to the white stiff collar beneath his jaw. His fresh haircut. His cleanly shaven jaw. Although I loved the scruffy Reyes more than pumpkin pie with whipped cream, this one was breathtaking. He was like Tarzan, Clark Kent, and James Bond all rolled into one. I half expected an Aston Martin to be sitting in our drive.

After being given the go-ahead, Uncle Bob wrapped one arm around Cookie's waist and lifted her chin. Only then did I realize she'd been crying. He gave her the gentlest of kisses, the kind that attested to the immense love and respect he had for the woman he'd just married, and the crowd erupted in celebration. It was over. After all the preparation, all the work, all the anxiety, it was over. Fast. Much too fast. We still had the reception, of course, and then I would get to work on the case while Cookie enjoyed her pre-honeymoon honeymoon. It would consist of only one night at Buffalo Thunder, a stunning resort and spa in the Pojoaque valley north of Santa Fe.

Cookie had insisted they hold off on their real honeymoon until after Beep arrived. Odd how Beep had changed all our lives so implicitly. She even added her own little kink in the wedding when the guests started giggling because my dress was moving. I couldn't tell if she was just trying to get comfortable or hosting a kegger. Either way, she was already stealing the show, trying to upstage.

I looked down at her with an
attagirl
grin.

The moment the crowd erupted, Uncle Bob whisked Cookie back down the aisle, which worked for me, as that was where the food sat.

“I have to admit,” I said to Gemma as we loaded our plates, “you did good.” I chose a kale salad with grilled salmon and an elegant cup filled with macaroni and cheese. I'd definitely be hitting that again, though I needed to leave room for pumpkin mousse, tiramisu, and chocolate truffles. And wedding cake! Couldn't forget the wedding cake!

Gemma had decided on much of the wedding's fanfare. The decorations. The type of food. All the extra stuff that made Cookie's day so special. I owed her. There'd be no living with her now.

“Thanks, sis.” She shouldered me playfully.

Wyatt, her beau, asked, “How are you feeling?”

Reyes was close, as in right next to me, so I had to make it good. “Oh, it's awful. I have to pee every thirty seconds. My ankles are swollen. I drool when I least expect it. And I keep getting this weird craving for sardines and green chile on melba toast.”

Wyatt had the decency to look aghast, but Reyes just grinned, focusing on the food instead of my suffering. The scoundrel.

“You hate sardines,” Gemma said to me.

“Exactly. It's like I'm not me anymore and someone—or something—has taken over my body.” I gasped. “It's
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
!”

Gemma giggled. “I think it's called being pregnant.”

“Nobody cares about my suffering,” I said as Reyes took both our plates to a table.

Gemma and Wyatt followed us. “We care,” Gemma said. “Just not a lot.”

She was so sweet.

As the afternoon wore on, Reyes and I got to sit back and watch Cookie in action. For once in her life, my very best friend was the absolute center of attention. And she glowed.

“She's really something,” Reyes said to me.

I turned to him, his eyes sparkling with appreciation as he watched her and Ubie. “You know, every time you say something like that, I fall a little more in love with you.”

His shimmering gaze landed on me in surprise. But he recovered quickly, his expression intensifying as he took me in. It made my insides tighten.

“I wanted to thank you for being Uncle Bob's best man.”

He didn't respond. His gaze dropped to my mouth and lingered there as his heat feathered over my skin. He let one finger slide under the hem of my dress and up over a knee. His touch sent a shiver of delight racing up my thigh to settle in my nether regions. He was so darkly sensual, the moment didn't last long. There were too many other women clamoring for his attention, and I sat floored at their brazenness. No idea why. It was like that everywhere we went. Well, when we went places. One actually asked him if he could go out front to check her tires.

Man, Cookie had a fertile set of relatives.

Most people stayed outside to mingle. Fortunately, there weren't many departed in the back. They were mostly on the front lawn. As Reyes helped pull tables together, I chatted with Swopes and Osh, much to the chagrin of Cookie's second cousins, who were vying for their attention at the time, then with my good friend Pari and her beau, Tre. Then I sought out Quentin and Amber after Cookie and Uncle Bob cut the cake. We'd asked Quentin beforehand if he'd wanted an interpreter and he said no, informing us that nobody listened to the words anyway. He just wanted to enjoy the ceremony. What he'd really wanted was to whisper—aka, sign small where no one else could see—back and forth with Amber through the whole thing. They were absolutely adorable together.

The next obstacle I faced that afternoon was of the four-legged variety. Thrilled that Reyes and I were outside, and taking that as her cue to get her freak on, Artemis ran around like a gerbil on meth, turning occasionally to make sure we were still watching. And God help us if we weren't. Every time we turned away, she charged. That was fine for most involved, but she was solid to Reyes, Osh, and me. So while she flew through the guests with the greatest of ease, she'd almost taken me out. Twice. Fearing for my and Beep's safety, Reyes escorted me inside, where more food awaited and guests stood around chatting and eating and generally enjoying the afternoon. But we weren't in there long before he was needed elsewhere.

Turned out, Cookie had a whole plethora of family that I didn't know about. They were all aunts, uncles, and cousins. No siblings and her parents had passed away years ago, but she still had family showing up to represent like true homies. She even had that gaggle of second cousins. Five young women who had decided that Reyes, Osh, and Garrett were the most delicious beings they'd ever seen. Even Quentin and Pari's tall drink of water, Tre, weren't exempt from the Flirtatious Five. I was right there with them, but I did fear for one's life when she made googly eyes at Quentin. Amber's hackles rose to needlelike points, and I was afraid the other girl would not make it home with all her hair. Or all her limbs. Or both eyes. Or a full set of teeth. So many body parts could go missing in such a scenario.