Dangerous Secrets (Tall, Dark & Deadly #2)(17)

Blake pushed to his feet. “Yeah yeah, you grumpy ass, we know. But you can’t throw Lauren over your shoulder and run to your cave until after the wedding. We’re going to have fun whether you like it or not.”

And Luke was going to keep Julie safe, whether she liked it or not. It was the one thing in their relationship he considered non-negotiable.

***

It was 1:25 p.m. the next day and Julie had managed to send Lauren on her way to the spa without her, giving an excuse about taking care of last minute dinner details. At the sound of the bell, Julie rushed to open the door, feeling her knees go weak at the sight of Luke. His silky black hair fell over his forehead and dipped down to his strong brow. The man did for a dark suit and long coat what an engagement ring did for a bride’s finger. He made it look like perfection that couldn’t be undone.

“I’m ready,” she said, slipping her purse over her shoulder. “Or as ready as I will ever be for a funeral. Everything is set for the rehearsal dinner. We’ll just have to change before we show up, so we don’t look like we’ve been to a funeral. Some people think black is bad luck for weddings.”

“You don’t?”

“When it comes to marriage, I say don’t trust luck or fate to be in our favor. We should change.”

“I’m all about getting more comfortable,” he said, “but right now, you’re going to need a coat. He gave her simple black dress a once over that was so hot that she might argue his point, until he added, “It might not be snowing like in Chicago, but the wind is vicious and cold today.”

And they were only invited to the outdoor cemetery service which she found odd, but then, she didn’t know much about normal when it came to funerals.

“Right, thanks. I’m a wreck trying to organize tonight on top of this.” She reached behind the door to the coat rack and grabbed her long wool jacket. He reached forward to help her put it on and they ended up with his hands on her lapels. She stared into brown eyes that had her melting like chocolate.

“You don’t have to do this today,” he said softly.

“I do,” she insisted. “I have to.”

He considered her a moment.“Have you talked to the judge?”

She shook her head. “He never returned my call, but I figure that part is probably expected.”

“I wish you’d reconsider this,” he said. “I don’t want you any closer to this situation than you have to be when we don’t know what’s really going on.”

“You keep rephrasing that and saying it over and over.”

“And I’ll probably say it at least one more time before we get to the cemetery.”

“It feels important to me.”

He brushed the hair from her brow, his expression and his voice turning gentle. “Then it’s important to me.”

Her throat went dry and her breath caught in her throat. Men had told her she was beautiful, told her she was sexy. Told her they wanted to pleasure her. Things all women knew that men said when they wanted to get a woman into bed and keep her there. No man had ever made something as grim as a funeral, or for that matter anything she cared about, important just because it was important to her.

He seemed to sense her loss of words and stepped back to give her room. “Let’s get this over and move on to the wedding bliss, shall we?”

“Yes, please,” she said, pulling the door shut behind her and then locking it. “Where is Royce?”

“Blake took him to the shooting range for me, so he wouldn’t ask questions, and because he was climbing the walls with pre-wedding jitters.”

They started the walk to the stairs and she wondered what it would be like to have siblings that came through for you like Luke did. “I owe Blake a few thank yous it seems.”

He snorted. “Blake likes holding a gun almost as much as he does a different woman every night.”

“I’ve gathered from being around him that he’s a real player.”

“Fast women, fast cars, and danger,” he said. “He’s an adrenaline junkie since Sara died, trying to feel something aside from pain.”

She cast him a sideways look as he held open a door to the private parking area to their building, which was a rare find in Manhattan. ”You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

“Blake is like jogging with a bomb in your hand,” he said. “He’s going to explode, it’s just a matter of when and how badly, which is exactly what he thinks about the Elizabeth Moore situation.” He clicked the lock on his Black Dodge Ram. “Let me help you up. The step is high.” He opened the door.

“Does that mean that you’ve uncovered something concerning?”

“Elizabeth Moore ending up dead after she threatened her husband is plenty in my book,” he said, “and we have a couple of our best men digging around. We’ll know more after the wedding.”

Julie sensed he wasn’t telling her everything. “If Blake is a bomb certain to explode on a scale of 1-10, where does he rank?”

“Seven on a good day. Nine on the other 364.”

“And this situation?”

His expression remained unchanged, emotionless, but the several seconds of hesitation was almost as telling as his answer. “Eleven.”