Wicked Honeymoon
An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 19
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2021 by Lily Harper Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
Mailing List
About the Author
Books by Lily Harper Hart
Books by Amanda M. Lee
1
One
“Mrs. Harker, I believe it would be prudent if you took your shirt off and ate dinner in bed with your waiter.”
Ivy Morgan — scratch that, Ivy Morgan-Harker — narrowed her eyes as she regarded her new husband from the table in the corner of their honeymoon suite. The brochure for the hotel said it was rustic. They’d been gracious with that detail. Ivy wasn’t thrilled with the hotel at all. It reminded her of a seedy motel in a derelict part of Michigan more than anything else, but she refused to complain.
Well, she refused to complain very much.
That didn’t mean she was in the mood to play games when it came to food.
“Yeah, we’re eating in the hotel dining room.” She was firm as she held up the menu. “They have three vegetarian options. Granted, one of them is just rice and vegetables, but this might be the last time we get anything edible this week.”
Jack Harker, who had been ready to go full-court-press on his wife to get her to stay in the small room for the duration of the evening, narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?” He liked to think of himself as an easygoing guy but there was little he hated more than his mealtimes being interrupted.
Ivy offered up a serene smile as she tucked a strand of her pink-streaked hair behind her ear. She’d offered to dye it a “normal” color for the wedding in case Jack might look back on their wedding pictures in twenty years and laugh at her hairstyle, but he’d declined. He said he fell in love with her when she had pink hair and would die still loving her ... no matter what color her hair happened to be.
“I’m being serious,” Jack pressed, his stomach offering up a groan of complaint when he thought about being forced to eat beans from a can on his honeymoon. “You said this wasn’t regular camping.”
“And it’s not.” Ivy used her most reasonable tone. “It’s glamping. That’s glamorous camping. They wouldn’t call it that unless they could back it up.”
Jack wasn’t convinced. “Don’t kid yourself, honey. They called this room ‘rustic chic’ right in the brochure.” He used the appropriate air quotes.
“Are you saying this room isn’t rustic chic?” Ivy was the picture of innocence.
“This room is a dump and we both know it. If we were staying more than one night, I would insist on a different room … or a completely different hotel. Since I figured we would spend the entire evening in bed eating room service, I was willing to put up with it.”
“Well, I want to go to the restaurant.” Ivy was firm. “They have a salad bar there, too. I wouldn’t mind some fresh produce … just in case.”
Jack was officially suspicious now. “Because we won’t see anything fresh over the next week?”
“I’m not sure.” Ivy made a point of focusing on the menu because she was afraid to meet her husband’s murderous gaze.
Husband. The word still gave her a jolt. Two years before, if someone would’ve told her she would be married and on her honeymoon — and married to a police detective no less — she would’ve laughed and called them crazy. Now, being married to Jack not only felt natural, but it also felt right. She believed she’d always been building up for this relationship, that him entering her life had been fate. That belief bolstered her, even in the face of his obvious disdain. “They have prime rib.”
“You’ve already sold me on the restaurant,” Jack said. “I want to know more about this glamping thing.” He mentally kicked himself for not digging into the specifics himself before agreeing to this leg of their vacation. When Ivy first brought it up — she was a big fan of camping — he’d balked. She wanted it so badly, though, that he couldn’t deny her. Still, they’d had to compromise. The first week of their honeymoon would be spent on a wild river kayaking from glamping location to glamping location and the second week would be spent on a romantic beach where he could indulge in sun, cocktails, and his beautiful new wife.
He was starting to feel as if he’d been had.
“Yay!” Ivy clapped her hands. “Let’s change our clothes and head down.” She moved to stand, but Jack’s hand, placed gently on her shoulder, kept her in place. “You’re about to have one of your patented meltdowns, aren’t you?” She was rueful as she regarded him. He was tall, handsome, and kind of a baby when he wanted to be. Unlike her, he hated camping. He only agreed to the trip because she desperately wanted it. There was betrayal etching across his face now, and she hated to see it.
“I’m not going to melt down.” Jack made a point of keeping his voice even. “You always jump to that conclusion, but it rarely happens.”
Ivy made a disdainful snorting sound. “Right.”
Jack pinned her with a pointed glare. “I’ve been a good sport about this entire thing.”
Ivy wanted to argue the point, but he wasn’t wrong. He’d definitely been a good sport. In fact, when she’d first brought up the idea of glamping on their honeymoon, she’d expected him to go all Hulk and rip his shirt rather than consider the suggestion. Instead, he’d taken her by surprise, asked insightful questions, and reluctantly agreed because it was what she wanted. He looked as if he was gearing up to change his mind, though, and she wanted to nip that in the bud.
“It’s going to be fine, Jack,” she reassured him, utilizing a doe-eyed expression she’d learned made him weak in the knees. In general, she wasn’t a fan of manipulating a man with feminine wiles. In this particular case, she thought it might be her only shot to make sure things went smoothly. “I promise we’ll have a good time.”
Rather than immediately respond, Jack took the chair across from her, making a face when the chair rattled and leaned to one side. “This thing isn’t even level,” he muttered under his breath, annoyance clouding his normally comforting eyes. “I hate this hotel room.”
“It’s just one night,” Ivy reminded him.
“I’m well aware.”
“It’s also our second night as a married couple.” She was searching for something — anything really — that would have him going soft and embracing the reality of where they were and how much their lives had changed. “We should be getting wild and tearing off our clothes.”
“That was the plan.” Jack’s gaze was accusatory. “Then you mentioned a lack of food over the next week. I want you to break this down for me.”
“I’ve already done that.”
“I want you to do it again when I’m not distracted by murderers, ghosts, and old dead witches leading me to answers
on a case. I want you to start from the beginning and leave nothing out.”
That didn’t sound like the way Ivy wanted to spend their second evening as a married couple, but she couldn’t see a way out of it. “Fine.” She looked put upon as she rested her hands on the table, wrinkling her nose when she lifted the left and stared at her palm. “The table is kind of sticky, too.”
“We won’t dwell too hard on why that might be,” Jack said dryly. “From start to finish. I want all the information right now.”
“I’ve already told you everything,” Ivy protested. “I don’t know what else you want me to say to you.”
“Break it down.” He refused to back away from the potential argument. “For starters, what happens tomorrow morning when we get up?”
“We cuddle and call each other adorable nicknames.”
He wouldn’t smile, no matter how she cajoled him. He found his wife to be the most absorbing creature he’d ever met. He loved everything about her. He still felt snowed regarding her choice of a honeymoon destination. “Mrs. Harker, I’m not letting this go. The faster you tell me, the faster we can move on from this.”
“Mr. Morgan, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m not exactly sure how things are going to go.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest, his stubborn side coming out to play. “Tell me right now. I refuse to move from this chair until you do.”
“They’ll kick you out eventually.”
“I’ll die here if you don’t tell me.”
He was obstinate enough to pull it off, Ivy realized. With an exaggerated sigh, she held out her hands. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. You have to promise not to be a pain, though.”
“Yeah, that sounds nothing like me. Talk.”
“We’ll have breakfast here at the hotel,” she started. “That will be after a morning of cuddling and telling one another how happy we are to be joined forever of course.”
“That’s every morning.” His stance remained rigid. “I know exactly what you’re doing. Keep going.”
“Then we put our big suitcases in storage here. I told you about that.”
He nodded. “You did. All our beach stuff will be locked in the storage room here because there’s no sense taking it with us. The bags we take glamping will be much smaller.”
“And I’ll sleep in nothing at night as we stare at the stars and chat about how it was kismet that we found each other.”
His resolve was strong, but he was wavering. “Ivy, just tell me.” He was almost pleading. “I need to know. I’m not going to take this away from you. We both know it. I simply need to know how miserable I’m going to be so I can prepare myself.”
She balked. “We’re going to be together. You said as long as we were together that you would always have everything you wanted.”
“Oh, don’t do that.” He wagged a finger. “Just break it down for me.”
She considered going full on huffy to shut him down but that seemed unfair given the circumstances. “I don’t know exactly how it’s going to be, Jack. Once we meet at the launch point, I’m not even sure if we get on the river right away or if we camp there for the entire day. I do know that the tents are really nice, better than this place, and we’ll have a full bed. We’ll also have a view of the stars and actual plumbing.”
“Indoor plumbing?”
“What other sort of plumbing is there?”
“Um, there’s plenty of different types of plumbing. I don’t want a chemical toilet or anything.”
“Well, you’re going to have to deal with whatever they have. There are actual rooms in the tents. We’ll have a bedroom and a sitting area. That’s the package I purchased.”
“And how does the kayaking work?”
“You like kayaking,” she protested automatically.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like kayaking. It’s fun for a relaxing day on a gentle river. My understanding is that we’re going to be on a much more active river than what I’m used to.”
That was true, and Ivy had been mildly worried when she did a little research on the river. Jack was strong, muscular, and in peak shape. He still wasn’t used to a full day of kayaking. They’d only taken shorter jaunts at their home in Shadow Lake, a small hamlet in northern Lower Michigan, over the course of their two summers together. He’d held up fine under those circumstances, but they’d hardly been taxing.
“I picked an easy trip,” she reassured him. “There are some legs of the river that can only be handled by experts. We’ll have experts with us. For those legs, they actually take the kayaks out of the water and transport us to the next stop by vehicle.”
“That all sounds great.” His expression never changed. “Tell me about the food.”
This was the part Ivy was less certain about. She and Jack were both food-oriented individuals. She had an easier time “roughing it” than him, though, and could manage under almost any circumstances. He was a man who was perfectly happy grilling steak and corn every night and then curling up next to her to eat a bowl of popcorn while she read and he watched SportsCenter. When it came to stuff like that, he was very uncomplicated.
“They said gourmet meals,” Ivy offered.
“Is that gourmet like this place is rustic?”
Before they’d landed at the hotel, Ivy had hoped that the food would be delicious. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “I honestly don’t know. I think it will likely be fine. I don’t know that they’re going to be cooking five-course meals for us on a fire, though.”
Jack studied her for a long beat. He hated how drawn she’d become. He didn’t want to be the source of that. He also didn’t want to starve for five days. “Maybe we should see if we can find a store and stock up on snacks.”
She brightened considerably when he didn’t declare the trip over before it even started. He was a reasonable man ... most of the time. She knew he wouldn’t suddenly back out of this trip because it meant too much to her. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t complain the entire time. They were both complainers when the mood struck.
“We can do that.” She flashed a smile. “I don’t know how much room we’re going to have on the kayaks to store food, though. They actually asked that we only bring medication we might need and notify them of dietary restrictions two weeks before our trip rather than pack our own kitchen. I told them I was a vegetarian and they said it was fine. I didn’t give them any restrictions for you.”
“No? You might’ve opened with ‘my new husband doesn’t eat crap’ and see what they said.”
“I’m sure it will be edible.”
“Edible doesn’t mean good.” He tapped his fingers on top of the table and then shook his head. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Because we’re together, right?”
He was determined not to smile ... and failed. “As long as I have you, I have everything.” He collected her hand. “I’m going to make you dress up in a coconut bra and do dirty things when we get to the beach because of all this, though, especially if I’m relegated to eating Spam or something. I’m just making you aware.”
“I think you’re going to like glamping more than you think you are.” Ivy was earnest. “I know our other camping trips have been .... tumultuous.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Honey, don’t kid yourself. They’ve been outright disasters.”
“I don’t know that they’ve been that bad,” she hedged.
“We stumbled across murderers both times.”
“Yes, but technically the first murderer was camping with us. Those were your friends.”
Jack frowned at the memory. Very early in their relationship, when he’d been trying to keep up connections with the friends he’d left behind upon his move to Shadow Lake, he’d invited her on a camping trip that turned into a fight for their lives. He’d felt guilty at the time. She’d found trouble so many times since then the first camping trip no longer ranked in the top ten of horrific events they’d survived.
“It’s
going to be fun.” Her eyes twinkled as she linked her fingers with his. “We’re going to have a real bed, Jack.”
He’d been thinking about that. “Yeah, are we talking a mattress like we have here or a pile of hay?”
She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “I very much doubt they would get return visitors if the beds were made of hay.”
“Maybe they don’t care. Maybe they figure that they can sucker in people with nice pictures the first time, get their money, and then mark them off their list of suckers and move on to the next.”
“That doesn’t seem like the smart way to run a business. I happen to know, as a business owner, that repeat business is key.”
“You run a plant nursery. It’s different.”
“I guess, but I think it’s going to be fine.” She eyed him for a long beat. “I don’t want this to be terrible for you. It’s our honeymoon.” She swallowed hard. “If you don’t want to go, we can call it off. We’ll forfeit half our deposit but ... this is supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. You don’t really want to do this and it doesn’t seem fair to force you.”
He was instantly contrite. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this for her. “No, that’s not what I want.”
“Then what do you want? You already have a bad attitude, and if you carry it into tomorrow, you’re going to hate it no matter what. I know you.”
She did know him, Jack mused. Nobody had ever known him better. She saw into his heart, to the point where she’d healed it when he thought it broken forever. He’d come to Shadow Lake hobbled, believing he would never find happiness. She’d changed all that for him.
She was magic. He’d recognized that right from their first meeting, when he’d arrived at the house they now shared and she pointed out a dead body to him and his partner. She’d had bare feet that day and wore an ankle-length skirt that fluttered in the wind. He remembered thinking when he saw her that it was impossible for one person to carry around all that beauty without being vain or selfish. He’d been wrong. She was even more beautiful on the inside.
Wicked Honeymoon (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 19) Page 1