Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5) - Page 23

Telling comment. Was one as fictional as the other? “Because you’re you.” Hoping not to have to explain—not at all sure he could—he released his seat belt and got out of the car.

She leaned across the console. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, choux. You figure it out.”


“We had our reception at the Riverview Inn. It was magical.” Eden watched Lou Ann’s excited gaze fly to her husband, sitting beside her in their booth midway along the pub’s far wall. “Wasn’t it, hon?”

Junior nodded and aimed a finger at Swain, who sat next to Eden on the opposite side of the booth. “Swear to the sweet baby Jesus, magical’s the word, man. Ten grand disappeared from my bank account like”—he snapped his fingers—“magic.”

“Shut up, you.” Lou Ann slapped her husband’s meaty shoulder before turning her attention back to them. “They did a spectacular job, despite some hiccups in the schedule.” Her eyes narrowed as someone approached the booth. “Don’t get this slacker to be your DJ. He may or may not show up. Hire Roxy to sing.”

Eden turned to see Kenny and Dobie approaching their booth.

“Hey, now, Lou Ann,” Kenny said, “I apologized, didn’t I? It’s not my fault the Honda crapped out that night. These things happen. But I made it there eventually, and everybody got to do the Hokey Pokey, so all’s well, right?”

Junior reached out, snagged a chair from a nearby table, and spun it around. “Set your butts down, boys. We’re wedding planning.”

Beside her, Swain shook his head. He actually managed to look a little pale under his tan. “Uh-uh. Not at ten fucking grand we’re not.”

Kenny took the chair by Junior while Dobie grabbed another empty seat and placed it at Swain’s side of the table. “Have the wedding here,” he suggested.

“I am not having my wedding in a bar,” Eden said quickly and aimed a finger at Swain. “Don’t even think about it.” To Lou Ann, she said, “I want magical. I’ve got my eye on this gorgeous dress I saw in Cleveland. It’s from the same shop where my sister got her dress, but hers was really plain, if you ask me. Plain and overpriced. The one I like has crystals all along here”—she gestured to the V of her camisole—“and lots of Italian lace. It’s worth every penny.”

“Baby…” Swain started, but Lou Ann cut him off.

“It sounds stunning. Perfect for you. It’d be a crime if you don’t get it.”

“It’d be a crime if she gets it,” Swain corrected. “A crime like credit card fraud. That dress cost…I don’t even remember. My brain blocked it out. Choux, I work construction. We cannot afford the kind of wedding your sister had.”

She started to push her lips into a pout, but Dobie leaned in. “Eden, you’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear. In fact, you look really awesome right now.” He pointed to her shirt. “Get a dress like what you have on.”

She smoothed a hand down the side of the silky top. “Do you like it? It’s new.”

“Baby!” Swain turned an exasperated expression on her. “We talked about this.”

“Ruh-roh,” Junior joked.

Swain took her hand and held it to his chest, rubbing his thumb over the engagement ring. “We’re saving for a wedding, and I’m still paying off this ring. We gotta tighten our belts.”

Now she did unleash the pout—Jesus, did this really work on some men?—and looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Don’t you like the shirt?”

“It’s sexy as fuck, but you’re sexy as fuck stark naked, and that doesn’t cost a dime.”

She pulled her hand away. “I can’t walk down the aisle stark naked, now, can I?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Swain countered, sounding seriously stressed. “But you’ve got loads of clothes at home, plenty of pretty wrapping to show off my treasure. If you want a fancy dress and a big wedding, you’ve gotta stop spending all my money on other shit.”

“You could get a job,” Lou Ann pointed out, “to help pay for the magic. What’s your specialty, girl?”

What was her specialty? Certainly not police work. “I…I worked as a salesperson for this amazing boutique back in New Orl

eans. Maybe I could find a job like that here…?”

“Hell, no.” Swain cut the notion off with a jerk of his hand. “That job cost you more money than you made.” To the table, he said, “She spent every penny of her paycheck, and then some, on stuff at the shop. I think she was their best customer.”

Incredibly, she felt real indignance on behalf of her alter ego. “You don’t want me to work, but you don’t want to pay for the wedding I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl, not to mention the ceremony that kicks off our lifelong journey as husband and wife. You don’t care to invest in us?”

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