May Day! Meddling mamma’s about to bust…
“What now?” Mirabella slapped her hands over her ears and shifted for a comfy spot at the base of the poplar. With her combat boots as pillow and her frizzy braid wrapped around her like a blanket, she’d been about to indulge in some off-duty snooze time.
May Day!
A niggle persisted, and she tuned into the call. “What d’ ya got?”
Matrimony emergency.
“Where?” She yawned and, lifting her lashes, glanced at the rain-drenched heavens. A crystal drop slid from a leaf; she opened her mouth and it landed smack on her tongue. “Mmm … not bad.”
Your turf.
“Uh, uh. Came to California for a little R&R remember?”
Take a rain check.
“Don’t mention rain.” She sprang bolt upright. Southern California was supposed to be sunshine, beaches and cute guys. Huh!
His chuckle crackled through the airwaves, tickling her ears.
“This is very inconvenient,” she grumbled.
Be a trooper, Bella. Shouldn’t take you long to wrap things up.
She hugged her knees and propped her chin on them, the fabric of her fatigues chaffing her skin, but she barely noticed. “Must I care about these humans?”
You must.
“What’s it this time?”
The usual.
“Send a cadet from the rookie force.”
No can do. I need experience. Yours.
“Flatterer,” she muttered.
’Tis truth I speak, Mirabella.
Sheepish, she grinned. “Okay, okay.” She tossed her copper-red plait over her shoulder. It clashed with the pink bandanna knotted at her throat. “Specifics?”
Mother meddling in the match.
She groaned. Didn’t He know she didn’t do well with busybody mammas?
Of course, He knew.
“Another agent …” She tried again. “I’m due forty-eight hours leave.”
After the assignment, the voice boomed in her ears.
“Do I have a choice?”
She could almost hear him grinning. Always.
“Cover?”
Bartender at the local Pub ‘n Grill.
“Wha-a-at?!” she asked. “Isn’t that a little risqué?”
He chuckled. I need reps where lost souls congregate.
“Designer water, here I come.”
I knew you’d set a good example.
“Huh! They hardly ever listen.”
Ahh, don’t I know it. He smiled, lighting up the skies.
“This better be worth it.”
Enjoy … and yes, it’s worth it.
“Wait! Names … addresses. I don’t know who …”
Sam Carroll skidded to a halt at the church entrance in a cloud of Valentino lace and satin. Too bad. The groom had showed up after all.
A bead of moisture slid between her breasts, and her heart hammered so fast, she bet it’d put a hole in her new Victoria’s Secret bra. A brave breath, and she adjusted the double veils that kept her face hidden, but also made everything a blur. She clutched her father’s elbow and squinted down the aisle. He was still there. Argh!
It made her insides shrivel at the thought of saying ‘I do’ to Michael Scott … instead of—instead of—but he’d skipped town. She whimpered and almost turned and fled. Her father patted her hand, and she nearly screamed.
That’d be a shocker to the stiffs at this upper crust event. A giggle won out at the thought, and she felt better. Another pat to her hand. The scream scratched her throat, but got outclassed by the wedding melody filling the church.
Samantha froze in step and prayed for dissolution of these nuptials. Her ingenious plan of hours ago zoomed through her mind at supersonic speed. Her stomach swayed. Suppose it backfired?
Her father smothered a cough with his fist.
She must’ve been in another dimension to have allowed mamma to railroad her with her dramatic groanings of a flailing business. Sheesh, she’d only had a latte or two with golden boy to appease her, and here she was the lead in the society wedding of the season.
Gulping a mouthful of air, she let it whiz out between her teeth. A delicate situation, but time to snuff it out … in style … er … not that exactly, but it should have the groom snapping up the right of first refusal. With that thought in the forefront of