“You like avocado.”
“I like guacamole. Two different things. And it’s called a BLT for a reason, not a BLAT.”
“With that kind of reasoning, you’d leave off the bread.”
“Bread is understood. And it starts with a B, so that’s taken care of. Even when it’s a tortilla, it’s still bread, just flat.”
His guyness when it came to food never failed to amuse her. On the other hand, he wasn’t picky, which would have driven her nuts.
He set the table and kept watch on the bacon while Bo finished up with the lettuce and tomato part. Tricks stood watching it all with intense interest, positioned by her bowl as a reminder not to forget her when the food was doled out.
“As if I’d forget,” Bo chided gently, keeping one eye on the clock because she didn’t want to feed Tricks early. Tricks looked at her bowl and back to Bo, then nudged the bowl with her foot.
“It isn’t time.” Though it was just two minutes early, a rule was a rule, because if you bent it Tricks would devote herself to bending it even more. When the digital numbers changed, Tricks barked.
“Scary,” Morgan commented, having watched the performance yet again. When the numbers changed, Tricks recognized the magic ones that signaled Food Time.
Bo measured out the food and set it down. Tricks wagged her tail in approval, then began eating. Bo petted her, then a thought struck and she straightened to give Morgan a narrow-eyed look. “Are you marrying me just to get my dog?”
“It’s a thought,” he replied without hesitation, then laughed. “As if marrying you would make any difference. She’s yours and as far as she’s concerned, no one else is even close. I know how she feels.” He winked at her. “I’m yours, too, remember?”
The silver-tongued devil, he knew just what to say. She chuckled and returned the wink, a little amazed at how easy it had become to flirt with him. She didn’t think she’d ever winked at another soul before Morgan.
After lunch she noticed she was running a little tight on time, so she hurried to take a shower and get ready. Morgan would be busy, which meant Tricks was going with her. She would tell the important people in her life about her and Morgan, and put her head together with Daina to start making plans. Now that Morgan’s desire to get married tomorrow had been thwarted, there wasn’t any need for both a quick marriage and then a ceremonial wedding later. They could make some quick plans, Miss Doris would bake them a cake—nothing fancy, but when something tasted as good at Miss Doris’s cakes, it didn’t have to be fancy—and she could go shopping for a dress. A simple ceremony, maybe in the park; simple refreshments and treasured friends. His mother could be here for the actual ceremony. What could be better? But if the situation with Morgan hadn’t resolved itself by then, they’d have to be extra careful and not have the ceremony outside.
A chill went down her back. How many weddings were planned with the idea that a sniper might take out the groom?
Thinking of that precaution led her to think about the larger security areas they had to address. Both she and Morgan would have to be extra careful. As soon as he was cleared to make his “blackmail” call to set events in motion, she would have Daina keep Tricks. She couldn’t bear the idea of Tricks being in danger again—Morgan, either, but this was his show, his job, and his decision. Tricks was as innocent as a child. Being separated would be difficult for them both, but better that than Tricks being harmed.
Because all that was on her mind, she felt uneasy as she went downstairs. “Be extra careful,” she said to Morgan, her brow furrowed. “Take your cell phone, and your weapon.”
He nodded to the Glock lying on the kitchen counter. “Planning on it. How about you? It’s never too early to start getting in the habit of taking extra precautions. Where’s your weapon, Ms. Chief of Police?”
“In my bag.” She’d bought a holster that she could clip to her waistband, but the only time she ever used it was if she and Tricks were going on a walk by themselves, something that seldom happened these days.
“Takes too much time to dig it out of a bag. Get it out, and keep it handy.”
His voice always took on a matter-of-fact coolness when he slipped into what she thought of as action mode, but he knew what he was talking about so she didn’t argue. She got the holstered weapon out of her bag and clipped it to her waistband. “I feel as if I’m masquerading as Lara Croft, Tomb Raider,” she muttered as she pulled her shirt down over the bulge.
“Naw. You’re way cooler,” he said with a quick grin, though his hard gaze swept down her form. “Carry your bag on your right shoulder, and no one will be able to tell you’re packing.”
She got her cell phone and Tricks’s leash. Tricks bounced to the door and stood there looking eagerly at the door handle, concentrating as if she could open the door by force of will alone. Bo figured that in Tricks’s mind that usually worked because if she stared at the door long enough someone would open it for her.
“I’ll call you when I leave,” she told Morgan, stretching on tiptoe to kiss him.
His arm went around her and he pulled her close for more than one kiss. “Drive safe. Love you. See you tonight.”
She hesitated, then said, “I love you too,” a little shyly, because saying the words still felt so strange, because feeling free to say them was nothing short of earth-shattering. She could feel herself blushing as she went out the door, with Tricks darting ahead of her, barking in an excited frenzy as she dashed around the vehicles.