“Did you touch him?” Greyson inquired.
“Hell no! I know better than that. I learned from the best,” he stated. “I told him if he ever spoke about Brynn again, I’d kick his ass.”
Croft laid his napkin down. “I’m going to say this as your boss. What you did was bad and could get you fired. You can’t go around threatening to beat co-workers up, especially when you work for the government.”
“But you said last night…” he started.
Interrupting him, he continued, “I know what I said, but as your boss, I have to tell you that.”
“I see,” he answered, staring down at his burger. “I did it because that’s what you would have done.”
Emma stared over at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is what happens when a caveman gets a following,” she stated. “All hell breaks loose in civilized society.”
Croft winked before going on, “As your friend, I’m going to cover for you and as your ‘dad’, I’m going to tell you way to go at keeping your woman protected.”
Briggs glanced up and was smiling.
Emma stared at her husband incredulously. “Don’t encourage him, Grey!”
He found her admonishment adorable and pulled her towards him to kiss her possessively. Breaking away, he whispered in her ear. “You’re my woman, and I would have personally killed him.”
What could she do? Emma sighed and went back to her salad. There was no changing Greyson Croft. He was beyond conversion.
The detective returned and took her seat. “Sorry, what did I miss?”
Emma had every intention of spilling her guts to teach them both a lesson. Before she could say anything, her husband was kissing her again.
Briggs started laughing, knowing what was going on between them.
Pulling away, there was laughter in her husband’s eyes and Emma couldn’t resist, she started giggling too.
“I love you,” he said softly.
“You’re too much to handle, Grey, but I love you more than anything in life.”
Satisfied that their conversation was safe, he returned to his food. “Are you two ladies ready for your shopping?” he asked as he finished his lunch.
“I am,” Emma stated enthusiastically. “I love playing dress up.”
“So, want to give your husband more clues?” he questioned, staring at his wife. He could only imagine how beautiful she was going to be. It made his heart pound in his chest at the thought of her on his arm.
“Think old school Vegas.”
That was going to be terrific.
“You read my mind.”
Her fingers ran down the scar on his cheek. “It’s kind of my job to do just that,” she replied, picturing him in her mind in a different era. The blush crept up her body as she was thinking about two words--sexy gangster.
Greyson was very pleased. It was what he’d been thinking when he picked his tuxedo and the car. “I think you’ll pull it off,” he admitted.
She laughed. “I decided on it because of you.”
There was confusion on his face. He didn't tell her what was bouncing in his head. “Why me?”
Emma stood, motioning to her partner that it was time to leave. “When I think of nineteen fifties Vegas, I think of gangsters, Hardcore FBI G-men, and old elegance. Then, I think how you were born too late and would have fit in perfectly.”
He was oddly touched. Standing, he placed his hand on her cheek. “Have fun, Em. I love you.”
As the women walked off, Emma turned one last time to blow him a kiss.
His heart skipped at how fortunate he was to have her. It warmed him to know his wife had easily accepted his nature and believed it to be perfectly fine. If he had to come back in another time, he would have loved to see early Vegas. Who didn't want to be a bad guy just once in their lives? Bugsy Siegel would have been fascinating to watch in action.
“You’re a lucky man.”
The comment drew his attention. “I know it.”
“Not many women would tolerate an oaf that had a wicked bossy streak.”
Croft grinned, knowing he’d do anything and everything to keep the only woman who ever owned his heart by his side. “I picked up a present for her.” He described it to his partner.
“You know that could go horribly wrong, right? The meaning behind that could symbolize her job or that you have every intention to make her your possession.”
He laughed, knowing exactly what he wanted it to mean. There was no doubt Emma would get it. “Yeah, but I like to live on the edge.”
That was a little too close to the edge for Briggs. “You better make that presentation just right.”
Greyson Croft wasn’t worried in the least.
It was all in the delivery.
And the woman receiving it.
Standing in the boutique, Emma already had her gown purchased. It was exactly what she was going for and hoped her husband thought so too. When she saw him in his tux, there was no doubt he’d be absolutely amazing.
There was something stunning about him dressed up, but Emma had never seen him in a tuxedo. When they married in the little chapel on the strip, he wore a suit, so this was her first time and certainly not the last.
Being the new director of the FBI in Vegas meant a lot of schmoozing, and she knew this was just the first of many events where she’d be going as Mrs. Greyson Croft. Honestly, it gave her chills. She was proud of the man she had married.
“Emma?” asked Brynn, touching her arm. “Are you here?”
She blushed. “I was thinking about my husband.”
“Oh boy,” her partner teased, holding up the two dresses. “Can I steal your brain away for a second to help me figure out my clothing conundrum? I can’t decide.”
“I liked the pale gold one. It’s more gala worthy. Plus, you looked amazing in it.”
At first Brynn wasn’t sure she’d enjoy the shopping, but she had to admit that it was turning out to be an adventure. It was one that she would never forget. “We’re going to look freaking fantastic,” she admitted, pointing at the shoes. “Which ones are you going with?”
Emma wasn’t sure. Then, she had an idea.
Taking a picture of them side by side, she sent it to her husband. Within seconds came his answer.
“I don’t know how you do it.”
She shrugged. “It makes for so much hotter sex,” she admitted, picking out a clutch to match the dress. “Grey is dominant, I’m more easy going. When we first met, it bothered him that I didn't need him. I found that if I just let go and trusted him, he began to feel more secure in our relationship.”
“Ah, ex issues, huh?”
Emma nodded. “A woman did a number on his heart. By just leaning on him and giving him that one little thing, it makes him feel secure,” she admitted. “When I first met him, I was broken. He put me back together inside, and when I’m with him I feel protected and at peace. I want him to feel the same thing when we’re together, so giving him this matters a great deal. Everyone wonders how I can tolerate his bossiness, but really it’s mostly show.”
“I can tell. I watched you two last night at the pool. Even though he wasn’t happy about the bikini, his eyes were filled with love. When you two went into the water and then slowly came up in each other’s arms, it was beautiful.”
Emma couldn’t live without him. “Grey bosses me around, but he’s used to being in charge and running the show. If he crosses a line, I fight back. Take the bikini for example. I ignored everything that came out of his mouth. He’s strong willed, but he’d never hurt me.”
“I believe it. He has good taste in shoes,” Brynn said, wondering if he’d pick hers or would that be too weird?
“You want Greyson to decide, don’t you?” she teased.
She began laughing. “I almost said yes,” she admitted, going with the ones on the right.
“Hair and nails?”
“Yeah, I think I could get used to this girl stuff.”
Someti
mes, you needed to forget that you waded in death all day, by taking some time to relax and have fun.
Before the briefing began, Croft sent Briggs off to run some searches on Dyer Mason. He was curious about the man and would be heir of the production family fortune. Half a billion dollars was a lot of power to have in your back pocket. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe that Dyer and Randall Mason wouldn’t play dirty. Now, he needed to figure out if murder was in their bag of tricks too.
Everything that Nick Quinn had said to them had tickled the little hairs on the back of his neck and kept grabbing his attention. If Dyer was sleeping with showgirls left and right and impregnating them, he could also be killing them too. Croft’s mind wandered back to the psychiatrist’s office, where the doctor mentioned that some internet sex addicts had to view more violent acts against women to get off. Could that be a possibility with Dyer too?
When Captain Ford entered, they were ready to begin. Croft stared out at the sea of faces. There were uniform cops, detectives and some agents in the mix. He wanted his people there watching his back. Okay, not his per say, but Emma’s.
“Okay, let’s get started,” he began walking them through the basics behind the plan. They were going to plant plain-clothes cops all over the crowd, hoping to keep an eye out for anything unusual. If something looked off, they’d move on it.
Ford took over. “The commissioner wants this to run smoothly. The two detectives inside won’t be wired or armed. Once in the door, there’s no way of assuring a visual.”
Croft interjected. “I will be carrying my weapon. I’m not under the police commissioner’s jurisdiction, and therefore don’t really care about his personal directive.” He glanced over at Captain Ford in time to see him laugh.
There was no way in hell he was going to let his wife be out in the open with a killer running around and not be armed. He’d keep his tuxedo jacket on, and no one would be any the wiser if he wore his shoulder holster. The same would go for Curtis.
They went over the schematics of the locale. “We want everyone to keep an eye on the mouth of the alley situated at the back of the venue. If the killer is going to try and take or drop off a victim, it’ll most likely be there.”
“How do we know this is going down tonight?” inquired Detective Bristol. He was sitting as far from his ex-partner as possible.
“The FBI’s profiler tagged this as a possibility.”
“How’d we get inside on this one,” a cop asked.
Croft answered easily. “I was invited as the new director of the FBI.”
There was a comment from across the room.
“I’m sorry, care to repeat that?” Croft wasn’t going to entertain Detective Laden or his shitty remarks. “If you feel you can’t handle this assignment then you can be pulled.”
The man gave him a dirty look.
He continued. “This gala is scheduled to start at seven for cocktails. If the killer is going to make an appearance, it’ll be when there’s the most attention. That’ll be as the guests are arriving and then leaving. Our killer wants the media attention and this is when they’ll be on the prowl.”
Everyone knew their roles and responsibilities and had their assignments for the night.
“Keep your eyes open. You need to be focused on the possibility that there’s a serial killer in your midst.” When there were no further comments, Croft concluded the briefing.
When everyone left, Ford remained behind.
“Yes?”
“You realize the police commissioner is going to shit a brick when he finds out you broke the rules and are carrying a concealed.”
Croft didn't care.
“You know I’m supposed to tell him things like this when they’re brought to my attention,” Ford paused as he waited for the man to respond.
“You do what you have to do, Captain. I may be friends with Tom, but when it comes down to it, only one thing in this universe matters to me.”
Ford was intrigued to hear his answer. “And that would be?”
There was no contest in his mind.
“My wife.”
* * *
It took almost all day to get ready for the premier. By the end of the primping, they only had an hour to get dressed and ready. Brynn and Emma took the spare bedroom, giving Greyson their personal quarters and Curtis the guestroom.
Of course, the men would be done first, since really all they had to do was shower, shave, and dress.
As Emma and her partner giggled, they helped each other into their gowns.
“I think we look pretty damn good,” Brynn said, turning in the mirror. She’d picked a gown that flared out from the waist all the way to the floor in a pale gold color. The lightness of the dress accentuated the highlights in her hair and the blue of her eyes. She’d slipped into gold sandals, with a slight heel.
“I happen to agree,” Emma answered, putting on the finishing touches to her lipstick. Fixing her hair, she’d gone for big fat curls that sat in an intricate twist. They almost begged to be touched. Emma was well aware that her husband liked her hair a certain way and again, she was dressing for him as much as her that night.
“You look spectacular in that dress,” Brynn added, checking out her partner’s selection. It was made of a jewel toned green silk that fitted her body around all her curves. Over one shoulder, there was Grecian knot holding the dress up, leaving the other shoulder completely bare. The dress dipped low, sharing a slight glimpse of her breast line. “If your husband doesn’t drool, I swear he needs to see a doctor.
Emma laughed. “I hope he likes it. I picked it out with him in mind.” Yeah, she’d chosen it with the after party in mind- the one that was going to happen in their bedroom.
“I hope Curtis likes mine too. I know that’s insane to say, but I really do.”
Emma touched her arm reassuringly. “I wouldn’t doubt it for a second. He’s going to swallow his tongue.”
It was funny, because everything in Brynn screamed ‘yipeeeeeee’ at the prospect. “We’re staying at my place tonight,” she stated. “Can we get dropped off there?”
That didn't bother Emma in the least. It meant she and her sexy FBI gangster could get naked in their condominium and really light up Vegas. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
There was a knock at the door. “Showtime, ladies,” Croft said, giving them their warning. “The car will be here in ten minutes. We have to be out the door shortly after.”
“Coming, babe,” she replied. “I’ll let you go out first,” she said, winking at her partner.
Brynn couldn’t wait. “See you after your husband tries to drag you back in here to have his wicked way with you.”
Emma started laughing. “From your mouth to God’s ears,” she retorted. Taking a deep breath, she stared into the mirror one last time and hoped he would be proud.
In the back of her mind was the scene from today in the attorney’s office. That woman was like the popular girl in school. Just by being alive, she made you feel like you were unattractive. Emma fixed a curl and prayed she pulled it off.
When they came here from Celestia, she never realized her husband was going to be this big of a deal in the city. Granted, he was climbing the ladder, but to her, he was the same man. It was going to take a little time to adjust to her husband being important in Vegas and not just her heart. She was married to a director in the FBI, and that upped the stakes for both of them.
It was a game changer.
When they went out to these functions, it meant playing the role of power wife. His reputation was judged on how she carried herself. Emma simply prayed she could pull it off. The last thing she wanted to do was make Greyson look bad. This was her secret fear in life.
It was surprising how everything had changed in such a short time. It was just a few short weeks ago that Emma feared the blood staining her soul. Now, she dreaded falling on her face and humiliating her husband.
Oh well, like the man said, “It’s
show time.”
Briggs stood there staring down at his watch. When Croft cleared his throat, he glanced up. Standing in the room was the woman he was escorting.
He didn't have words to describe it.
“Uh, am I presentable?” she asked, turning in a circle.
The young agent just stared, unsure how to put a sentence together.
Croft jumped in to save his partner. “You look beautiful, Brynn. Disregard his lack of response.He’s not used to women who aren’t in videos.”
Briggs snapped out of it and moved towards her. “Ignore him, even though he’s right. You look amazing.”
She hoped so, because this was her first shot at being a princess at the gala. Although it had been fun, and she trusted Emma, there was still that nervousness that it wouldn’t come together.
Curtis kissed her on the cheek. “How do I look? Good enough to escort you, I hope.”
She took in the tuxedo and grinned. “You look very handsome. I’m so glad you asked me to be your date.”
Not as glad as he was!
“Where’s Emma?” Croft inquired, dying to see his woman.
“I’m here,” she said, stepping out. Her eyes were on her husband as she prayed he’d be speechless. When she saw him from the hallway, the sight of him made her gasp. He’d picked a tuxedo that was very nineteen fifties, and Greyson Croft looked very dangerous and lethal. It was everything she found sexy in him.
He turned his head and everything around him stopped. He’d never seen his wife look more spectacular. Emma was a beautiful woman, but tonight she appeared ethereal. She glowed in the green silk gown with her coppery curls begging to be played with. Her eyes sparkled, and in that moment, he had even more confirmation that he’d never love another person as much as he adored her.
“Emma,” he whispered, unsure if he could express his true feelings. She outdid herself for the evening. He wanted a beautiful woman on his arm, and what he received was a Goddess. Croft was aware that he’d never be worthy of this precious gift.
She watched as his eyes fill with emotion. “Greyson.”
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 32