Page 160 of Dirty Rival
“Half of our problems just went away. Let’s celebrate that right now.” He cups my face. “Let’s plan our wedding.”
“Yes,” I say, smiling. “Let’s plan our wedding.” And for now, we don’t think about his father, the one who might have killed someone. The one who might kill again.
Chapter seventy-eight
Carrie
I’m feeling pretty darn good about everything when Reid and I leave for our meetings. I’m in my lucky pink suit. Reid is looking like pure hot man in a gray suit with a navy pinstripe. The drama with my father is done, I believe that, and so does Reid. We’ve just climbed into our hired car when my phone rings.
I fish it from my purse, to glance at the number. “My brother,” I tell Reid and then answer, “Anthony.”
“You’re really marrying him, are you?”
“That’s not a real question, right?”
“Fuck,” he grumbles. “Well, he’s rich. At least you got that right. Good luck and all that. I’ll get over hating him and congratulate you when I can be genuine.”
“Well,” I say. “At least, I appreciate the fact that we’re skipping the fake stuff.”
“I love you even if you don’t think I do. Call me if you need me.”
“Will you answer?”
“Yes, sis. I’ll answer. Let’s get together before you leave.”
“No,” I say. “I don’t want to force you to fake anything. Let’s just agree to meet up next time.”
He’s silent two beats. “Okay. Later, sis.” He disconnects.
Reid arches a brow as I stuff my phone back into my purse. “Well?”
“He said at least you’re rich. I got that right.”
Reid laughs. “That is true, baby.” He pulls me close and presses his cheek to mine, his lips by my ear as he whispers, “But you’re marrying me for my tongue, right?”
I gasp as if I’m not used to this man and his naughty talk and he laughs again. God, I love his laugh. I love him. I love his tongue. Today is a good day and this is a good life. That’s how I’m feeling when we walk into day one of our meetings.
Hour upon hour that follow, Reid and I slay everything we touch and prove that we’re a great team. We end the day the way it started, in bed with Reid curled around me. I lay there with only the tiniest hint of worry. “Did you tell your father that my father has thrown us his support?” I murmur.
“It’s better if my father thinks this wedding is torture for your father, at least for now.” Because his father enjoys my father’s pain. It’s not a good thought.
Reid nuzzles my neck. “Trust me, baby. I’ll handle it.” He strokes my hair. “Sleep. I got you and us.”
I believe him, so I do. I sleep, and I sleep like a baby. No. I sleep like a woman in love and in her future husband’s arms.
Seven days later…
Japan draws Reid and I closer. We work well together. We do the good cop-bad cop routine perfectly, and I feel that I soften him at the right times, and he hardens me at moments when I am not hard enough. We are so good together that we finish up in Japan sooner than expected. It’s nearly nine at night Japan time and Reid and I are eating room service in bed with our bags packed for the next morning.
“Wedding,” Reid says. “We still haven’t picked a date or a location.”
“We’ve picked about ten dates and locations,” I laugh. “That’s the problem. I don’t want Valentine’s Day. It’s too everyone else. Maybe we should do St. Patrick’s Day and dress our cat and dog up in green.”
He laughs. “Only you could get me to dress a cat and dog up.”
“Is that a yes on St. Patrick’s Day?”
“Only if we have green beer and champagne.” His cellphone rings and he grabs it from the nightstand, answering it the minute he sees the number. “Right,” he says, after listening for a moment. “That works. Yes, see you then.” He disconnects.