Wicked Honeymoon (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 19)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “It’s ... interesting,” Jack said finally as he crouched down on his knees and sprang up two times, testing the wooden floor. “It’s rustic.”

  Ivy frowned. “It’s not rustic. It’s ... glamorous.”

  “Yes, it’s glamorous camping,” Jack agreed as he chucked her chin and moved to the other side of the tent. He had to admit, although it was painful, the setup wasn’t nearly as bad as he was expecting. The sides of the tent were sheer but inner shades could be dropped to cut down on looky-loos. The bathroom did indeed include real plumbing — something he was fascinated by — and it was completely closed off from the rest of the tent, located at the back, and segregated from anybody who might be passing by.

  There was a small living room that featured a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table. The bed was off to the right and had a nightstand on either side. It was king-sized and Ivy had immediately hopped on it to test out the mattress. She declared it soft and comfortable, something he’d felt the need to confirm himself, and she looked absolutely thrilled with the setup.

  In his heart, Jack would’ve preferred they spend their entire honeymoon at a five-star resort on a beach. This was something that was near and dear to her heart, though, and she owned his entire heart, so he was determined to make this work for her.

  “It’s pretty cool,” he conceded finally, giving her a small grin. “I like it.”

  “That’s because it’s awesome.” Ivy did a hip-wiggling dance that Jack had only seen on rare occasions — she didn’t tend to trend toward giddy — and then threw herself at him, her arms going around his neck. “I love you.”

  He caught her easily, pulling her tight and burying his face in her neck. He loved the smell of her. She had a unique scent thanks to the body oils she made herself. She often opted for a mix of lavender and lemon, which is what she boasted now, and he found he was ravenous for her.

  “I love you, honey,” he whispered.

  She broke away from him, her grin not even remotely diminished, and gestured toward the bed. “Let’s try it out.”

  He laughed as he watched her skip in that direction, and then bounce on the bed like a little kid. She was on her hands and knees when she let loose a weird purring noise.

  “Come and get me.”

  There was little more he wanted to do. He hadn’t forgotten her reaction at the river, though, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. “Tell me what you felt at the river.”

  Her smile faded. Had she honestly thought he would forget? She felt stupid in hindsight. “What do you mean?” She was careful not to outright lie to him in case she still had wiggle room. She sensed she didn’t but there was always a chance she could somehow distract him.

  “You felt something,” Jack insisted, refusing to break eye contact. “It was something that unnerved you.” He’d grown accustomed to her witchy ways over the course of their relationship. There was nothing she could say to change his feelings, one way or another, but he hated it when she decided to protect him with evasion.

  “How do you know that?” Ivy asked finally.

  “Because I know you.”

  “Better than anyone,” she agreed ruefully, blowing out a sigh. “I’m not sure if I truly felt anything.”

  “You did. You know it. Don’t start our honeymoon out like this.”

  “Right.” She ran her hand over her hair. The wind on the river had done a number on it and she was going to have to fix the ponytail before dinner. “There was a moment, about thirty minutes before we finished up, where I thought I felt a presence in the woods.”

  Jack remained calm. “What was it doing?”

  “I don’t know. It felt like we were being watched.”

  “Was it a ghost?”

  Ivy hesitated and held out her hands. “I honestly don’t know what it was, Jack. That’s the truth. I just felt as if we were being watched, but when I looked, I didn’t see anything.”

  “Why didn’t you mention it then?” He wasn’t angry as much as frustrated. He hated it when she hid things from him.

  “I didn’t want you jumping to the conclusion that it was a bear and tipping us over in your haste to get away.”

  He froze, dumbfounded. “Is that really why?”

  “Of course.”

  “I ... well ... crap.” He dragged his hand through his hair, some of the anger he’d been hoarding escaping on a single exhale. “I thought maybe you sensed another witch ... or even a murderer.”

  She chuckled because there was nothing else to do. “I didn’t feel anything that specific. I promise you that. It was just a feeling. It could’ve been a local fisherman or something who disappeared in the woods when he heard us coming. I can see where constant tours would be annoying.”

  “I can see that.” Jack eyed her for a long beat. “You said you felt it about a half hour out. What about when we landed here?”

  “The feeling went away once we started paddling on the river again. I thought it was just my imagination working overtime. It came back when we got out of the kayaks, though. It was just for a split-second and I didn’t feel anything specific again. It was the same feeling of being watched. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  To give himself time to think, Jack ran his hand down her back and stared out at the campground. The tents were widely spaced to give the couples privacy. He’d been happy about it when Tyson showed them to their tent. Now he felt as if they were a little more isolated than he was comfortable with.

  “Do you think we’re in danger?” he asked finally.

  Ivy immediately started shaking her head. “I honestly don’t.”

  “Are you just saying that because you’re worried I’ll cut the trip short and demand they take us back to the hotel? Be honest, because I won’t do that. I just want to be prepared in case there is something to worry about.”

  “It was just a feeling, Jack.” Ivy grabbed his hand and gave it a good squeeze. “It could’ve been anything ... including an animal.”

  “Just not a bear,” he muttered under his breath.

  “It definitely wasn’t a bear. It was probably a raccoon.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just trying to placate me.”

  “Is it working?”

  She looked so hopeful Jack couldn’t crush her. “Yes.” He snagged her around the waist and rolled both of them onto the bed. “I’m going to need a lot of placating so I hope you’re up for it.”

  She giggled as he rubbed his nose against her cheek. “I’m the perfect woman for the job.”

  “You certainly are.”

  6

  Six

  Ivy had a way of relaxing him that he never expected and Jack was feeling rested and ready for anything when dinner time rolled around. They had limited clothing choices and remained in the same items they’d worn when traveling down the river. Ivy brushed her hair and sprayed both of them with one of her handmade body sprays before they headed down.

  “I smell like a bouquet of flowers,” Jack noted, wrinkling his nose as he sniffed his shirt. “I don’t think manly men are supposed to smell like flowers.”

  Ivy cast him a sidelong look. “Manly men don’t use the saying ‘manly men.’ They just are manly men.”

  “I’m pretty sure there was an insult buried in there.”

  “Not really. “You’re the manliest man I know, but you don’t have to try at it. That’s how good you are.”

  “See, that seems like a way to manipulate me so I won’t say ‘manly man’ again.”

  Her smile was serene. “See how well we get each other.”

  He laughed because he couldn’t stop himself. “Oh, Mrs. Harker, we definitely do.”

  Once they arrived at the dinner tent, which was erected over another wooden floor and covered in a glittery mosquito netting that offered more ambiance than Jack would’ve thought possible under their current circumstances, they settled at the huge table. There were no smaller tables for private meals, which meant the trip was geared for grou
p conversation at mealtimes, Ivy mused. She found that interesting and wasn’t nearly as annoyed about it as she initially expected to be.

  “And there’s our last couple.” Tyson beamed at them as they took spots in the middle of the table.

  “We didn’t realize that everyone would be eating at the same time,” Ivy hedged, casting the woman who sat beside her, who happened to be Vanessa, an apologetic smile.

  “We assumed it would be a buffet thing,” Jack said as he settled next to her. Damien was on the other side of him and they exchanged warm grins. “We thought it would be okay if we were a few minutes late.”

  “It’s fine.” Tyson offered up a breezy wave. “I didn’t lay out the specifics of dinner. Our lunches on the river will be more lackadaisical but, here at night, we serve a full sit-down meal.”

  “I apologize.” Ivy’s cheeks colored when she felt more than a few sets of eyes rest on her. “We won’t be late again.”

  “You were only two minutes late,” Tyson reassured her, offering up a playful wink. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Ivy nodded, but she still felt guilty. When she risked a look at Jack, she found him equally chagrined.

  “I feel like we should be heading to detention,” he whispered, earning a grin from his wife. “Do you want to make out with me later to make the detention go quicker?”

  “Maybe.” She leaned back from the table as a woman delivered a bowl of soup to the spot in front of her. “This looks good.” She inhaled deeply. “Hmm. Squash.”

  “This isn’t the entire meal, is it?” Jack asked in a voice that was louder than he intended.

  Tyson chuckled and shook his head. “It’s just the first course. You literally get five courses.”

  “I thought you were joking about that.” Jack dropped his napkin in his lap and grabbed his spoon, watching Ivy closely as she sampled the soup. “Is it edible?”

  Ivy nodded and shot him a thumbs-up, her cheeks burning a second time when she realized the rest of the table had focused their full attention on the Michigan couple. “You’ll have to excuse my husband,” she said ruefully. “He’s very food-oriented and he’s convinced himself I’ve brought him to the woods on our honeymoon to starve him.”

  That earned an appreciative chuckle from multiple people around the table.

  “It wouldn’t be prudent to kill a spouse on a honeymoon,” Bart offered out of nowhere. He’d been one of the few people who didn’t bother laughing at Ivy’s joke. “People don’t realize that. If you marry someone for money and immediately knock them off on the honeymoon, you’re going to get caught. Nobody gets away with that.

  “Sure, it makes a nice story in your head,” he continued, oblivious to the way people stared. “All people can see is themselves on television as they recount the tragic tale of how their new husband or wife went missing on the cruise ship ... or on the beach at night where they just happened to be walking alone ... or in the middle of the wilderness. They’re always the first suspect, though.”

  Ivy popped her lips and glanced at Jack. “You should probably remember that if you’re planning something nefarious, Mr. Morgan,” she teased to break the pall settling over the table.

  Jack grinned. “And there went all my hard work and planning.”

  “I’m being serious,” Bart stressed. He either didn’t pick up on the joke or refused to acknowledge it. “If you were to off her now, people would never look at anybody else but you.”

  Jack held the man’s gaze for an extended beat. “I don’t plan on offing her, so that shouldn’t be an issue. That being said, most law enforcement officials look at all the facts before they zero in on a suspect.”

  Bart let loose a derisive snort. “Who told you that? I bet you saw it on some talk show or something. Or you probably watch those bleeding-heart shows during the daytime when everybody else is at work, the ones designed to make women cry … or tickle their ovaries.”

  Jack’s eyes clouded. “I believe I learned it at the police academy.”

  Sensing trouble, Ivy decided to dive in and smooth things over before they really got out of hand. “Jack is a police detective,” she explained. “He’s very diligent and good at his job. He takes the law very seriously.”

  Rather than be impressed, or offer up an empty apology, Bart merely shook his head. “You can spout that nonsense all you want. The spouse is always the first suspect.”

  “The spouse is always looked at,” Jack clarified. “Sometimes he or she is ruled out as a suspect right away, especially if there’s an alibi involved.”

  “And how often is that?”

  The other guests were breathless as they watched Jack and Bart go at one another. Ivy noticed, with a certain degree of sympathy, that Lily looked positively mortified at the turn the conversation had taken.

  “I don’t have the statistics with me,” Jack replied easily. “I would agree that spouses are often guilty simply due to the nature of the relationship, how intimate it is. They’re not always guilty, though.”

  “In the case of newlyweds?” Bart challenged. “You’re newlyweds, right? What would happen if your wife didn’t come back from the honeymoon with you? What if she went missing in these woods and was never seen again? How would the people in your hometown look at you?”

  “I would think they’d look at me with sympathy because they know I would never hurt my wife,” Jack shot back. “Everybody in our town recognizes I’m devoted to her.”

  Bart was practically dripping with disdain. “That’s a nice story, son, but the only person who believes that is you. Most people look at a couple, such as yourselves, and try to figure out the angle. What does she hope to get from you? What do you hope to get from her? It’s all a business arrangement.”

  Damien cleared his throat, inserting himself into the conversation for the first time. “Some people marry for love.”

  Carter shot him an adoring smile and nodded. “We’re totally in love. It’s not a business arrangement for us.”

  “Really?” Bart’s tone was dry. “I believe you said you run a business as wedding coordinators, right?”

  Carter swallowed hard and nodded. “That’s right. We were business partners before we ever got married, though.”

  “I’m sure you were. The thing is, now you’re married. What sells the business of marriage better than a happy couple? It doesn’t even matter if you’re really happy. People just need to believe it.”

  “Hold on,” Jack said when Carter made a growling sound. “You can’t equate all relationships to business arrangements. I love my wife beyond reason. We got married because we were in love, not because we wanted something from one another.”

  “Right.” Bart’s eye roll was pronounced. “You’re a cop. What does she do for a living?”

  “She is sitting right here,” Ivy replied coldly. “You can address me yourself.”

  “Fine. What do you do for a living?”

  “I own a nursery.”

  Bart’s forehead creased. “Maybe he wants access to kids or something,” he suggested. “You likely want him because of the steady income and potential for life insurance should he go down on the job. From his perspective, the kids are probably the draw.”

  A muscle worked in Jack’s jaw, but Ivy was the one to respond before he could unload.

  “It’s a plant nursery, you jackass,” she snapped. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a thing for plants.”

  “Definitely not,” Jack agreed. “Just helping Ivy transfer seedlings from one pot to the other gives me hives.”

  Bart opened his mouth to say something that Ivy knew would be snide and calculating. Tyson cut him off before he could.

  “I think we’ve gotten off on a tangent.” Tyson’s smile was friendly but there was a warning in his tone. “A lot of people come on their honeymoons here. I happen to believe in true love. If you don’t, Mr. Coulson, that’s certainly your prerogative. There’s no need to antagonize the other guests, though.”


  “I was simply stating a fact.” Bart pushed his uneaten soup out of the way and offered up his first real smile when he saw the plate that was being placed in front of him. It featured a honking large steak with mashed potatoes, fresh vegetables, and a mushroom glaze sauce that had Ivy’s mouthwatering even though she didn’t eat meat. “Now this is dinner.”

  It was the one and only thing Jack and the man had to agree on. “It looks good,” Jack agreed when the waitstaff switched out his empty soup bowl and the new plate. He leaned closer to get a look at the mushrooms. “Are these morels?”

  “They are,” Tyson confirmed. “They’re grown in a special climate dome locally. We order from them quite often.”

  Jack slid his eyes to Ivy, who had yet to receive her vegetarian entree. “I would give them to you, but they’re covered in steak juice.”

  Ivy almost looked as if she was willing to risk it. She loved morels to the point of distraction. “They look really good.”

  “Here’s your vegetarian entree, ma’am,” a young man said as he appeared at Ivy’s elbow.

  She leaned back and watched as the plate slid into place in front of her, grinning when she saw what she would be dining on. “There are morels in the pasta.”

  “That’s a great dish,” Tyson enthused. “I’m not a vegetarian, but I’ve had that a few times and it’s amazing.”

  Jack chuckled and rubbed Ivy’s back as she grabbed her fork. “I’m sure my wife will clean her entire plate. She’s a morel nut.”

  “Not a nut,” Ivy countered. “I just happen to know a good mushroom when I see one.”

  “I believe that’s what I said.”

  AFTER A DINNER THAT WAS SO filling Ivy thought she might actually have to unbutton her shorts to get comfortable, the couples settled around a roaring bonfire and got to know one another. Lily and Bart were present, but rather than sit close like the other couples, they sat on opposite ends of the same bench and stared into the fire, essentially tuning out the conversation as they acted like total strangers.

  Jack opted to ignore them and drew Ivy down to a blanket on the ground, settling her between his legs and massaging her neck as Cara and Tyson began spinning tall tales about the area.