Death, Taxes, and a Satin Garter
Page 28
I took my father’s hand and led him onto the dance floor.
“I’m a bit rusty,” he said with a chuckle, “but I’ll try not to step on your toes.”
A few other men and their daughters joined us, the flower girl standing atop her father’s feet as they made their way around the space.
“Cute, huh?” I said as we stepped past them.
“Sure is,” my father said. “You know who else would make a cute flower girl? Jesse.”
“She would, wouldn’t she?” Jesse was my favorite niece, a girl after my own heart what with her pink cowgirl boots and sure-shot aim. Of course she had only a BB gun rather than a Glock and fired only at empty root beer cans. But it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she followed in my footsteps and pursued a career in law enforcement.
The song ended, a classic disco number cued up, and the dance floor was opened to all wedding guests. Nick ditched his tuxedo jacket, grabbed my mother’s hand, and pulled her onto the floor next to me and my father, holding her hand above her head and spinning her in a circle.
“Oh, Lord!” she cried, laughing all the while. “I’m getting dizzy!”
“She’s all yours now!” Nick turned my topsy-turvy mother over to my dad for handling and stepped into place in front of me. When a slow song came on, Nick pulled me up against him. “This just feels right, doesn’t it?” he whispered in my ear.
I looked up at him. “Yeah. It does.”
He gave me a soft, warm kiss.
After several songs, the cake was cut and served. Although Alicia made a show of shoving Daniel’s piece into his mouth, the stern look she gave him when he held her bite to her mouth told him he’d better think twice about messing up her makeup.
Alicia’s cousin Melody was back in party-pooper mode. She took one bite of her cake and gasped. “It’s so dry! Ugh!” She slid her plate onto a discard tray and headed to the bar for more champagne.
Christina took a big bite of the cake and moaned in bliss. “Alicia’s bitchy cousin has no idea what she’s talking about. This cake is delicious!”
It was. And plenty moist, too. There’s just no pleasing some people.
After cake there was more dancing; then it was time for the bride to throw the bouquet.
“Go get ’em, tiger!” Nick gave me a grin and a pat on the ass to send me on my way.
Christina was already engaged to Ajay, so she stayed back with him and Nick. I found myself standing on the dance floor in the center of a group of women, many of whom were a few years younger than me but at least three of whom were significantly older, perhaps single for the second time in their lives.
Alicia stepped into place, taking a quick glance over her shoulder to spot me and offer me a grin before turning back to face away from us.
“One!” the gathered groomsmen called out. “Two! Three!”
On “Three!” Alicia sent the bouquet sailing into the air. I rushed forward, nearly tripping on my heels. The bouquet spun in the air, blooms over stems, as it soared toward the ceiling. It seemed to hover in the air over the throng of women for a moment before descending toward us. I took three elbows to the ribs—Umph! Oomph! Ow!—before the bouquet dropped perfectly into my hands. It was as if it knew it belonged there.
“I got it!” I cried. When I looked around me, my gaze met several angry faces. Some relieved ones, too, of young women who weren’t ready to take the plunge yet. Hey, I’d been there once. Not too long ago, either. Finding the right person really changes your perspective.
Nick stepped over to me. “Nice job, there.”
“Those single women are vicious!” I rubbed my side. “My ribs are bruised.”
“Don’t worry.” He leaned in and whispered, “I’ll kiss them later and make them feel better.”
I hid my smile behind the bouquet as I pretended to sniff it. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Daniel placed a chair on the dance floor and Alicia took a seat in it. She kicked off her shoe, pulled the hem of her dress up, and lifted her leg to expose the satin garter. Catcalls erupted from around the room. One of them came from me. You can dress me up, but you can’t take me anywhere.
Daniel slid the garter off his bride’s leg and stood, waving it in the air. “C’mon up, guys!”
The other single men filed toward the dance floor, but Nick made no move to join them. I gave him a hip check. “You better get on up there.”
“Ugh. Do I have to?”
I cut him a look.
“All right, then,” he muttered, casting me a grin to let me know he was teasing.
By that time, a thick crowd had formed and Nick was stuck at the back of it. Though he was tall, his chances of catching the garter were slim. It would have to make it past two dozen grabbing hands for him to even have a chance. Oh, well.
We bridesmaids gathered around Daniel and Alicia to do the countdown.
“One!” we called out. “Two! Three!”
As Daniel threw the garter, the sea of single men in front of Nick lowered their arms and dropped to their knees, leaving only him standing tall.
What the…?
Nick snatched the garter out of air and held it up in one hand, throwing the other fist up in victory. “Woo hoo!”
The other single men stood back up and exchanged high fives with Nick. When they’d finished, his eyes sought mine. I raised a palm in question but got only a mischievous grin in reply.
I marched over to him. “What was that?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Nick raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I just got lucky.”
One of the groomsmen walked past and whispered, “Lucky, my ass. He paid us each twenty bucks and promised to prepare all of our tax returns next year.”
chapter thirty-two
With This Ring
Nick proudly wore the garter around his upper arm the rest of the night. We danced some more, drank some more, celebrated some more. Finally, it was time to send the bride and groom off.
The wedding guests formed two lines on either side of the flagstone path outside. A limo waited at the end of the path to whisk the two off to the wedding suite at the Magnolia Hotel downtown. We tossed red rose petals at Alicia and Daniel as they made their way down the row, smiling and laughing and bidding good-bye to their guests.
Before climbing into the limo, Alicia stopped to give me a tight, warm hug. “Thanks for everything, Tara.”
I hugged her back. “Have fun tonight, Mrs. Blowitz.”
“We will,” she whispered. “I packed the handcuffs.”
They slipped into the back of the car and the chauffeur closed the door. We waved good-bye as the car pulled away.
My mother and father stepped up next to me and Nick.
“That sure was fun,” my mother said. She gave me a peck on the cheek. My father did the same.
“Are y’all sure you don’t want to stay the night at my place?” I asked.
My mother waved a hand. “After all this excitement, you need to get some sleep. We’ll be fine in a hotel.”
“All right then.”
My mother turned and gave Nick a hug.
My father shook his hand. “Always good to see you, son.”
“You, too,” Nick said.
I returned to the dressing room and gathered up my things, adding them to my bridesmaid’s bouquet and the bridal bouquet I’d caught earlier.
Nick helped me carry the stuff to my car. Once everything was safely packed in my trunk, he reached out and toyed with a lock of my hair, running a thumb along my cheek. “Stay at my place tonight,” he suggested softly.
Knowing the wedding would run late tonight, we’d both taken the day off from work tomorrow so that we could sleep in.
I leaned into his warm, strong hand, savoring the sensation. “Okay.”
“Stop by your place first and pick up some of those leftover biscuits. Gravy, too.”
“Forget it.” I pushed his hand away and treated him
to a scowl.
“Aw, come on,” he pleaded. “I’ve got your favorite coffee creamer in my fridge.”
I raised my brows in question. “You’ll get up and start the pot?”
“For your mother’s biscuits and gravy? Hell, yeah, I will.”
“All right then.” Did this guy know how to play me or what? Of course, I knew how to play him, too.
I drove back to my place, stepping inside to grab the biscuits and gravy and check on my cats. They were both asleep. Annie opened her eyes to peek at me, yawned, and promptly returned to her slumber. Henry didn’t move a muscle.
“Where do you want all of this?” Nick asked as he came in the door, his arms loaded with the things from my trunk.
I pointed upstairs. “My bedroom.”
When he returned, we climbed into his truck and drove down the street to his place. As we stepped inside his town house, Daffodil danced around in the hallway, happy to have her daddy home. Rather than turn on the light in the living room, Nick lit a candle that sat on the coffee table. Looked like this romantic night wasn’t over yet.
Still wearing the garter around his arm, Nick took the dog out back for a few minutes while I flopped down on the couch. I supposed I’d have to get out of this pretty red dress at some point, but I wasn’t quite ready yet. The suits and blazers I wore for work made me feel strong and capable, but this dress made me feel flirty and feminine. After making two busts this week, both of them involving violence, it felt good to indulge this softer side of myself.
The back door opened and Daffodil darted in, the garter now around her neck. She bounded over to me, her fluffy tail whipping back and forth, creating a stir of air that set the candle’s flame flickering.
I ruffled the fur around her neck. “You silly girl. That garter is supposed to go on your leg.”
Nick leaned against the door frame that led from the kitchen to the living room, a smile playing about his lips. The top two buttons of his tuxedo shirt were undone, the sleeves pushed up, the bow tie hanging loose. He looked sexy and classy at the same time. His eyes went from me, to Daffodil, and back to yours truly.
“What?” I looked down at the dog. At first all I saw was fur and fangs and a pink tongue intent on licking me to death. But then I noticed something else. Tied to a thin ribbon on the garter around her neck was a ruby ring in a platinum setting.
Oh, my God.
Though I’d known Nick and I were likely headed in this direction, I hadn’t known that he’d planned to propose tonight, that he’d already chosen a ring for me. And what a beautiful, perfect ring it was.…
“Nick,” I said on a breath.
“Your father gave me his blessing when we were out on my boat. Of course I threatened to throw him overboard in the middle of Lake Ray Hubbard if he refused.”
“But you’ve got money in the office pool!” I squeaked, choked with emotion. “You bet you’d propose in September.”
“What’s another twenty bucks?” He chuckled. “Besides, I don’t want to wait anymore.” His face grew more serious. “I can’t wait anymore.”
My heart soared as he stepped toward me, untying the ring from the ribbon and dropping to a knee next to Daffodil. He took my left hand in his, holding up the ring. The ruby glimmered in the candlelight. Nick’s amber eyes looked into mine as he put the ring to my fingertip. “I think you and I should get hitched. What do you say, Tara?”
Tears of joy sprang to my eyes. What do I say? I said, “Yes!”
A fresh grin graced his lips. “That’s just what I’d hoped to hear.” He slid the ring onto my finger, sealing the deal, and pressed his mouth to mine.
Acknowledgments
It takes a team of people to get a book into readers’ hands, and I’m grateful to have such a fantastic force working on my books!
Thanks to my editor, Holly Ingraham, for being so smart and insightful and a joy to work with! Many thanks also to Sarah Melnyck, Paul Hochman, and the rest of the team at St. Martin’s who played a role in getting this book out into the world!
Thanks to Danielle Christopher and Monika Roe for creating such perfect and attention-grabbing book covers!
Thanks to my agent, Helen Breitwieser, for all of your work in furthering my writing career!
Thanks to Liz Bemis and the staff of Bemis Promotions for my great Web site and newsletters!
Thanks to my fellow members of Romance Writers of America, its volunteers, and the incredibly savvy national office staff!
Thanks to my super-smart son, Ross, for answering all of my technical questions and not making me feel as clueless as I surely am. You’re the best son a mother could ever hope for!
Finally, thanks to my fabulous readers! I love connecting with you through the stories, and I know you’ll be rooting for Tara as she pursues the ever-evasive Flo Cash and a catfishing Casanova. Enjoy!
ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY DIANE KELLY
Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure
Death, Taxes, and a Skinny No-Whip Latte
Death, Taxes, and Extra-Hold Hairspray
Death, Taxes, and a Sequined Clutch (an e-original novella)
Death, Taxes, and Peach Sangria
Death, Taxes, and Hot Pink Leg Warmers
Death, Taxes, and Green Tea Ice Cream
Death, Taxes, and Mistletoe Mayhem (an e-original novella)
Death, Taxes, and Silver Spurs
Death, Taxes, and Cheap Sunglasses
Death, Taxes, and a Chocolate Cannoli
Death, Taxes, and a Satin Garter
Paw Enforcement
Paw and Order
Upholding the Paw (an e-original novella)
Laying Down the Paw
Against the Paw
About the Author
DIANE KELLY is a former assistant state attorney general and tax advisor, who had many brushes with white-collar criminals during her career. When she realized her experiences made excellent fodder for novels, her fingers hit the keyboard and thus began her Special Agent Tara Holloway romantic mystery series. Diane is also a proud graduate of her hometown’s Citizen Police Academy. Diane lives in Nashville, Tennessee with her own romantic hero and a houseful of spoiled-rotten cats and dogs.
For more information and the latest news, visit her Web site and sign up for her newsletter at www.dianekelly.com. You can also find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dianekellybooks, and follow her on Twitter at www.twitter.com/dianekellybooks. Or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Acknowledgments
St. Martin’s Paperbacks Titles by Diane Kelly
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the
characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DEATH, TAXES, AND A SATIN GARTER
Copyright © 2016 by Diane Kelly.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
eISBN: 9781250094834
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / August 2016
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