“Maybe you should come spend the night at our house,” Mom turned to look at me. “You had quite the scare.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Keep going Dad, I’m a half a mile down.”
“I know,” Dad muttered.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” Mom insisted.
“Gage is coming by,” I said. “I won’t be alone.”
“How is that going?” Mom asked. “No one thinks it’s weird that you broke up with Bobby to start going out with his best friend?”
“Mom.” I had to work hard not to roll my eyes. “I told you, I out grew Bobby. I broke up with him before anything happened between Gage and me.”
“Not that I was ever his biggest fan, but how does Bobby feel about all that?” Dad asked as he weaved in and out of traffic like an Indy 500 driver.
“It doesn’t matter what Bobby feels.” I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest like a twelve-year-old. I wondered why being around my parents had us all regressing about fifteen years. “Gage asked me out and I’m willing to see where it goes. I’m taking it slow. I promise. Right now I need to put every waking hour into my new business.”
“Tell me exactly what you do again?” Dad asked. Whenever I would start talking about the details of my new business, his eyes would roll back in his head and my words would go in one ear and out the other.
“It’s called Perfect Proposals, Dad. I plan proposal events and then the engagement party. Like I did for Felicity. You liked my Great Gatsby engagement theme, didn’t you? I’ve got this other guy who wants to do a Serendipity-themed proposal. His girlfriend loves the movie.”
“See, there’s another thing I don’t understand,” Mom said, her face to Dad as if she knew I would tell her she was old-fashioned and he wouldn’t. “What is the big deal about proposals? In our day a guy asked a woman’s parents for permission and then got down on one knee and popped the question. There may or may not have been a ring involved. And marriages lasted. Nowadays you kids have to have elaborate proposals, wear quarter-million-dollar dresses, and spend thousands on a wedding so you can spend an equal amount on the divorce six months later.”
“Not everyone spends huge sums of money, Mom,” I said. “People have budgets they work within. Not everyone is as extravagant as you see on television. And, not everyone gets divorced. There are marriages that last. Probably just as many now as in your day.”
“People had more sense in our day,” Mom grumbled. “If you ask me, anyway. Not that you did.”
“Dad, my place is on the left. On the left!”
He took a left curve into the parking area of my apartment building. Tires squealed and I rolled around the backseat wishing that the big Buick had shoulder seat belts instead of the old-fashioned lap belts.
“There you go.” Dad put the car into park and turned back to look at me. “Be careful with that new guy, do you hear me? Lots of people rebound after a long-term relationship. Don’t expect too much.”
“Yes, Dad, I hear you.” I unbuckled and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and then I gave Mom a kiss as well. “Take care of you.”
I scooted out of the backseat, opened the car door, and stepped out into the cold and dark. The rear door to the complex was brightly lit so I moved toward it. Dad peeled out behind me. My cell phone rang as I entered the building. I pulled it out of my purse and saw it was Gage. “Hello,” I said as I stuck my key in my lock and unlocked the door. “Are you headed over?”
“Nearly there,” Gage said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine now.” I let the door slam behind me and I tossed my keys in a small basket by the door and slipped my shoes off.
“I heard that you witnessed another murder.” There was sincere concern in his voice. The emotion warmed my heart. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy sounded like that when he spoke to me.
“I didn’t witness it, exactly.”
“What does that mean?” Gage asked.” ‘Exactly’? Are you hurt?”
“No, no, I’m fine . . . really.”
“I’m in your parking lot. Hang on. I think this is a story I need to hear in person.”
“I’m not dressed for our date,” I warned him as I glanced in the mirror above the entry shelf.
“You’re always beautiful to me, Pepper.”
I couldn’t help the smile that lifted the features of my reflection. The sound of the front door buzzer jerked me from my warm and fuzzy thoughts. I pressed the button to let Gage into the building. Then I quickly fluffed my wild-child red hair and bit my bottom lip to bring some color to it. There wasn’t any time to fix my face. We might have known each other for ages, but Gage and I had only just started dating.
He knocked at the door and on instinct I peeked through the peephole. Gage was a handsome man. He wore his dark brown hair short and well styled without being fussy. His nose was straight and his jawline chiseled. Gage was one of the few men I knew who didn’t have that thirty-something softness in his face. Maybe because he worked out regularly. Something I couldn’t seem to find the time to do.
I opened the door. “Hey.”
“Hi.” His dark blue gaze lit up at the sight of me. It was enough to give a girl a shiver.
“Come on in,” I stepped aside and he wiped his shoes on the rough mat outside my door and entered. His hands were in the front pockets of the leather jacket he wore. It wasn’t a biker’s jacket like my ex-boyfriend Bobby loved to wear. Gage worked a nice Italian leather jacket cut to show off a man’s shoulders.
“Wow, you’ve really done the place up.”
I colored at the praise. “I know, right? After I got rid of Bobby’s stuff, I realized I didn’t have much of my own. I started picking up whatever appealed to me.”
“Well, you have good taste.” The blue of his eyes darkened and my brain fell out. I stood there like an idiot, staring, until he winked.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with my manners.” I stepped over to the coat closet and opened the door. “Let me take your coat. It’s going to be a while before I’m ready to go out.” I held out my hand and he shucked the leather coat in one quick movement of his wide shoulders.
Gage was six foot two and toned. He never had any trouble finding a date. Women had a tendency to trip over each other to get to him. It made his attraction to me seem all the more incongruous.
Tonight he wore a barely pink long-sleeved dress shirt, without a tie. It was open at the collar, exposing the strength of his tan neck. I happened to know that he never went near a tanning salon. So how he managed to stay tan in Chicago was beyond me. I could only speculate that he did enough outdoor work that he didn’t need to go the artificial route.
The shirt was tucked into dark dress slacks, highlighting his narrow waist.
“Okay, so, you look nice and I’m not even close to ready to go out,” I worried out loud as I hung up the coat.
“No problem. After I heard about the murder, I called and changed our reservations to nine.”
I caught myself looking at him as if I’d never seen a man before. “You made reservations?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head slightly and smiled. “It’s what a guy does when he takes a beautiful woman out on a date.”
“Huh,” was all I could say. Bobby never made reservations. In fact, our last Valentine’s Day date had ended up at the bar across the street because even Denny’s was packed full.
Gage reached over and lifted my chin with his index finger. “Are you still up for going out?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “If a man makes reservations, I’m so there.” Thankfully I had a little black dress in the back of my closet. I’d bought it for one of Felicity’s dinner parties. “Let me pop in the shower.”
“A woman says ‘let me pop in the shower’ and I’m unbuttoning my shirt,” he teased and pretended to unbutto
n the second button on his shirt.
“Oh, no,” I said and wagged my finger. “We have reservations.” I scooted to the bedroom. “Make yourself at home. There are glasses and a variety of drinks in the antique liquor cabinet.” I waved toward the corner of the living area that didn’t contain my home office.
“Nice,” he said. “Where’d you get the cabinet?”
“It was a flea market find,” I said as I rushed into my bedroom. I slipped off my socks and shoes, grabbed clean, date-appropriate underwear, and my brand-new silky robe. “I won’t be too long.”
“Take your time,” his voice trailed behind me. “I like the idea of being here when you get ready for a date.”
Wow, why did that sound so darn sexy? When did getting ready for a date become romantic? Bobby and I had dated since my sophomore year in high school. It occurred to me that I had missed out on a lot of things normal women experienced.
I was in and out of the shower in record time. The humidity of the bathroom had my hair curling in mad ringlets. I figured why not go with it. Gage didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t wear the latest straight style. I had tried it once, but after ninety minutes spent with a straightening iron in my hands, I took one step outside and my hair bounced right back to its frizzy self. I wrapped the robe around me, spritzed curl spray in my hair, and let it do its thing while I applied makeup.
There was a knock at the bathroom door. “Are you decent?”
I laughed. “Now that’s the real question, isn’t it?” I opened the door and enjoyed the way his pupils widened in his dark blue eyes. Did I mention that he had the longest, thickest black lashes? Something any redhead would give her eyeteeth for. It took me five coats of mascara to achieve his natural look.
“Nice.”
“Thanks.” I saw that he held two glasses of white wine. “Is one of those for me?”
“Yeah.” He passed one my way. “I thought maybe you could use it as you got ready.”
“Thanks.” I took the glass from his hand and sipped the cold wine. “Okay, I’m closing the door. A girl needs to work her magic far from a man’s watchful gaze. It’s too early in this relationship for you to know all my secrets.”
Gage chuckled as I reluctantly closed the door on him.
Ten minutes later I scooted from the bathroom to the bedroom, threw the dress over my head, put on earrings and a necklace, and tossed back the last of my wine. I walked out in the living room to find Gage staring out the window.
“Hey, I’m ready,” I said as I slipped on my shoes.
He put his wineglass down on the coffee table and strode over. “You look beautiful.”
Why was it that whenever anyone said that to me I thought they were lying? I swallowed my protest. “Thanks.”
I opened the coat closet and pulled out his soft leather coat and my own princess-seamed black wool coat. “What were you looking at?”
He put on his coat and then helped me with mine. “You have a view of The Naked Truth.”
“I know.” I slipped my hands through the sleeves and then buttoned up my coat. “Kind of weird, right? Bobby picked this apartment.”
“I thought you two never lived together.” Gage reached the door handle first and opened it for me.
“We didn’t. He went with me when I was apartment shopping. When he said this was his favorite of all that we looked at, I signed the lease. A week later I realized the reason he liked it so much was that it was so close to his favorite bar.”
“Did you call him on it?” he asked as I locked up and we went out the front door.
“I did. He said that he thought it was a great idea. With the bar so close we’d never have to drink and drive.”
“Wow,” Gage said flatly, then took my elbow and helped me down the steps and over to his car. “Bobby’s a real prince sometimes.”
“I know, right?” I lifted a corner of my mouth into a half smile. “I’ve been here going on five years now. It sort of grows on you.”
He opened my door for me. “Will it be hard for you to live so close to the bar now?”
“It’s better than living with my mom and dad.” I climbed into the car and was happy to see Gage smile when I flashed a little leg getting in. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes.” He closed my door for me and went around the back to the driver’s side.
The restaurant was an intimate little place that served gourmet local food. I took in the beautiful candles and the cozy atmosphere. “I didn’t know you were a foodie.”
“Isn’t everyone in Chicago a foodie?” Gage asked. “We do have some of the best restaurants in the United States.”
“Bobby preferred beer gardens to gourmet. I don’t think he even knows what eating local means.”
“All you can eat from the grocery store salad bar?” Gage joined in the teasing.
I took his hand. “Let’s not talk about Bobby anymore. Okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, his gaze soft. “I’ve been trying not to pry, but I have to know what happened this afternoon. Can you tell me or is it not dinner conversation?”
“It’s definitely not romantic dinner conversation,” I said, and placed my free elbow on the table and rested my chin in my hand.
“Then I won’t make you talk about it.” He squeezed my hand and ran his thumb softly across my knuckles. It was a soothing gesture.
“It’s a little awkward, isn’t it?” I leaned toward him and asked.
“What?”
“Dating you. I mean that in the best possible way. I’m so used to being around you that I want to tell you everything as if you were still my buddy.”
“I am your buddy.” He winked at me.
“No,” I said low enough for his ears only. “No, I certainly don’t think about making out with my buddies.”
“And you’re thinking about making out with me?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. His look had my heart beating fast and my voice sounding breathy.
“Good.” He sat back, breaking the sudden tension. “Let’s think about that then.”
“Okay.”
The waiter came over, bringing the bottle of wine Gage had ordered and two wineglasses. The cork was pulled and Gage was asked to inspect it. At his okay, the waiter poured a small amount of the red and offered the glass to Gage. He swirled it like a pro, sniffed it, and then took a small swig.
I watched in fascination as he swished it around in his mouth a moment then swallowed.
“Very good,” Gage said.
The waiter nodded and poured a small amount in both glasses. “Enjoy!”
“Really.” I leaned in to Gage so that my voice wouldn’t carry. “You know about wine tasting?”
He smiled. “You really don’t know me as well as you thought you did. Do you?”
“No.” I shook my head and picked up my glass. “But I look forward to finding out.”
“That’s the spirit.” Gage lifted his glass. “Here’s to us. The most interesting people we know.”
I laughed. “Hear, hear.” We touched glasses and I enjoyed the wine.
Dinner was a slow, relaxed affair with several courses. It was so strange to have dinner with a man and not have to worry about putting it on my business credit card. It was also different to tell him about my hopes and dreams and listen to his. Time flew by until we were the last people in the restaurant.
Gage paid the bill while I went to the ladies room. The restrooms were well appointed with soft candles and fresh flowers. I made a note. It would be a nice place to contact for Perfect Proposals. I could really see someone proposing here.
Gage drove me home. He parked in the lot and turned to me. “I had a great time.”
“Me, too.” My heart beat faster and I fidgeted with my purse. “Do you want to come in?”
His eyes glittered in the lo
w light. I felt just a tiny bit daring. I’d never been with any other guy but Bobby, so I didn’t know how these things went. Do you wait until the third date? Or was it that you had to know a guy ninety days? Either way, Gage wasn’t exactly a stranger.
“I would love to come up, but it’s probably best that we wait a little longer.”
“Oh.” I tried to hide my disappointment but it was tough. “You’re right, of course.”
“How about I walk you to your door?”
“Okay.” I sounded like a pouty child.
Gage chuckled, reached over, and raised my chin with the crook of his index finger. “You are precious, Pepper Pomeroy.” He kissed me. It was a long and lingering kiss, and I would have continued it for the next ten years if he hadn’t pulled away first.
We looked deeply into each other’s eyes. The moment was interrupted by a loud knocking at the window on my side of the car.
Startled, I whirled and bumped my head on the rearview mirror and my left elbow on the stick shift.
“What?”
Bobby’s face floated into view as he leaned down to peer in the window. “Pepper, get out here now!”
“What’s he doing here?” Gage asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied.
Bobby banged on the window and tugged on the door handle. “I said, get out here now!”
It would have been easier to stay in the car and let Gage get out and fight with Bobby. But then I was never one to take the easy route. If a situation was going to be uncomfortable, I usually faced it head on. That way there was no blind side. Right?
Chapter 4
“What are you doing here, Bobby?” I asked as I stepped out into the crisp air. Gage came around the car to stand beside me.
“I’m finding my girl out with my supposed best friend.” Bobby spit out the sentence as if he could spit fire.
“Dude, you’re drunk,” Gage said. “You need to take a step back.”
“No, you’re the one who needs to take a step back.” Bobby shoved his finger into Gage’s hard chest. “What the hell kind of friend are you anyway? Out with my fiancée.”
Bodice of Evidence Page 4
