by RJ Blain
“Most women would kill for a man willing to take her shopping without complaint.”
“I’ll even buy the first dress, but if you bankrupt me, you’ll have to move in with me and pay half my rent.”
She laughed. “Or you’ll have to move in with me and beg for scraps and work off your rent with manual labor. Emphasis on the man part of manual.”
“I’m out of my league in this discussion, but I’m pretty sure my answer is supposed to be okay. Where do you live and will I need clothes for my work?”
“You need clothes to leave the bedroom. It’s a rule. Inside my bedroom, you may dress however you like. View it as gift wrapping yourself for my pleasure.”
“You know, a month ago, I was destined to be alone for the rest of my life, dying a virgin.”
“Why would you think that?”
I pointed at my false eye and scar. “I wasn’t pretty before the scar. Add in the lycanthropy issue, my decision to become a cop in a city that hates lycanthropes, and general inability to figure out what women are thinking, and I was pretty sure I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.”
Marian hopped a few steps ahead of me and pressed her hand to my chest. I halted, loving the way she scowled at me. “Listen here, you.”
When Dad smiled at Mom’s annoyance, she found ways to get back at him, but I understood him. For the moment, Marian gifted me with her undivided attention, and that alone was worth smiling about. “I’m listening.”
She poked my cheek where the scar faded away to nothing. “If I wanted a dainty model, I’d have bitten one. If I wanted a man who preened in front of a mirror and thought himself God’s gift to women, they’re a dime a dozen. Maybe I want a man who has the guts to stand in front of a gun for another living being, sentient or not. Maybe I want a man who understands the value of life. Maybe I want a man who puts his money where his mouth is and has the scars to show for it. And if you never get a functional eye because we can’t afford it, then I’ll happily be your badge babe while you serve as my badge bunny. I’ll even listen when you bitch and moan about missing being on duty, because that’s what the good retired cops do.”
Mom was right. I needed to marry Marian before she got away. “Since we’re going out of order anyway, maybe we should skip the white dress part and go straight to the marriage part, then we can do the white dress part later?”
“I’m going to put my foot down and say a wedding is non-negotiable. It’s the only day I’m legitimately allowed to pretend I’m a pretty princess. For the clueless man in this relationship, it’s the one day you get to pretend to be the handsome prince. The white dress part is happening.”
“You won’t have to pretend. You’re already pretty. Maybe I should take courses on how to act. I may need them. Handsome prince is going to be a stretch for me.”
“Shane!” Marian thumped my chest and her scowl deepened. “You’re plenty handsome.”
“There has to be an eye doctor in this mall somewhere. We should make you an appointment.”
“You aren’t the judge of your looks. I am, and I say you are. That’s final.”
No wonder Dad liked goading Mom so much. I enjoyed Marian bristling over something I’d accepted long ago. “I think we’re going to have to investigate this matter very carefully.”
Marian put her hands on her hips and glowered, then she sucked in a breath. “You’re trying to get me to prove it by wearing sexy dresses for you, aren’t you?”
In reality, I was testing her temper to see how far I could push her, but I liked her idea a lot more. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to get you to try on every sexy dress I see so I can buy the one I like best for you. And if it’s sexy enough, I may have to win the bet so you’re forced to wear it often when you aren’t wiggling into tight jeans.”
I ruined my ploy by laughing, which earned me a solid smack to the chest.
“You have everyone fooled, don’t you? You play this shy, good cop who doesn’t bother anyone, when in reality, you’re a clever little weasel who prefers halos over horns.”
While I would have preferred to be called a wolf, I liked weasels. “Most people would be offended if you called them a weasel.”
“Are you?”
“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but weasels are rather cute, and most people wouldn’t think to accuse me of being clever.”
“Weasels are also vicious.”
“I don’t have much of a reputation for being vicious,” I confessed. “I obviously wouldn’t be a very good weasel.”
“You’re a hell of a shot, though. That makes up for it.”
“I should introduce you to Ed. He helped me go from being a passable shot to a decent one. My godfather taught me the basics growing up, though.”
“Not your parents?” Marian made a thoughtful noise in her throat and pointed down one of the hallways. “I think I saw a clothing store that way.”
I’d never understand why other men found shopping such a chore. I didn’t want to be the one trying on the clothes, but I appreciated the inclusion. I blamed Mom for my opinion; if a woman took a man shopping, she wanted to spend time with him doing something she enjoyed.
I’d make the most of it and enjoy the view the entire time, even though I wasn’t much of a shopper.
“Lewis is a better shot than they are, and he liked his godfather duties. I think it’s because his wife isn’t ready to put up with the hassle of conception with a werewolf.”
“I’ll admit I don’t know why it’s a hassle.”
“Trust me, that was a sex education lesson I didn’t want. If you really want to know, research wolves. I’ve been informed lycanthropes share certain characteristics with real wolves, and they don’t stop until they’re certain of pregnancy, which isn’t not a short process.” My face flushed. “I was informed it was twelve uncomfortable hours for my mother, something she’s in no in any hurry to repeat.”
Marian’s eyebrows shot up. “Twelve hours.”
“Apparently.”
“Should I be worried?”
“I don’t know. Do you want kids?”
“Eventually.”
I thought about that. Then I thought about it some more. I got so distracted thinking about it I almost plowed over a couple standing in the hallway.
Laughing, Marian tugged me out of the way. “I seem to have fried your circuits. Which part got you? The idea of kids, knowing I’m interested in having kids with you, or the practice involved in making kids a reality?”
The idea of woman wanting kids wanting kids with me stumped me almost as much as me having kids with anyone. “I never got past finding a nice woman who might want to settle down with me to think about kids.”
“I’m not nice. I’m actually a bit mean. I also bite.”
“When I get a few minutes, I’m going to research that biting habit so I know if I should be encouraging you to bite me more often or if I need to get better at dodging your teeth. I’m sure I can amuse myself with this research at a later time. Right now, we have more important business to attend to.”
“I’m not sure me trying on dresses is more important business.”
“Sure it is. You in a dress directly influences how elaborate my plans to kidnap you become. Choose your dresses wisely, Marian Peterson. I’ll be watching you.”
“Most women would be seriously creeped out by that statement.”
“Says the woman who keeps pinching my ass.”
She shot me a glare, scanned the mall, and pointed at a shop I suspected contained the most expensive dresses in the mall. “I hope you can live with your regrets, of which there will be many.” Grabbing my hand so I couldn’t escape, she dragged me into the store.
She had no idea how wrong she was, and I’d enjoy her finding out.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Some women could wear red well, but Marian wasn’t one of them. While the dress fit her athletic body, hugged the curves she had, and made i
t clear a strong woman stood before me, the color didn’t do her justice. Such a vibrant shade should have been stunning on her, but it distracted instead of complemented.
“No.” I handed down my verdict with an exaggerated wave of my hand.
“My, my. Aren’t you a bossy badge bunny today,” Marian murmured, putting her hands on her hips, lifting her chin, and staring down her nose at me.
I changed my mind about the dress the instant she shifted her shoulders and the fabric clung to her chest. “Do you think they have that dress in black?”
“My eyes are up here, Shane.”
I grinned. “But you’re not wearing the dress over your eyes.”
Marian shifted her weight and stuck out her leg, which caught my attention and held it rather well. “It’s not covering my legs, either.”
“Thank God for that.”
“They might have it in black.” Marian spun on her heel and marched in the direction of the dressing room, leaving me with one of the two amused store clerks. I had no idea what it was about the black heels she’d partnered with the red dress, but I needed to see her in them again.
“How much are those shoes? I think I’ll buy them.”
“Six hundred and forty, and of course, sir. I’ll grab them when she tries on a different pair of heels.” The woman flashed me a smile and went off to do my bidding.
I didn’t know much about women’s clothing, but I hoped black heels went with more than a red dress. And if they didn’t, maybe I could talk her into wearing them with a pair of jeans. The wait bored me, but when she returned, I had no regrets.
The store did have the dress in black, and I forgot how words worked when she sauntered my way. “Is this better?”
Unable to think anything coherent to say, I bobbed my head. She did a slow turn that showcased her legs, which did terrible yet wonderful things to me. “I don’t need my parents anymore, right?”
Taking her home and unwrapping that dress from her body became my highest priority. Ernesto could keep my parents occupied for another day or two.
“I’m pretty sure you’d miss your parents after a while.”
I flagged the clerk down. “I’m buying that dress, I don’t care what it costs, and if she could just wear it out, that’d be great.”
“Shane!” Marian laughed. “Don’t be crazy.”
“There’s nothing crazy about you in that dress.” I turned to the clerks for help, and the women grinned. “I’m right, right? She’s stunning in that dress.”
“You are, ma’am. The red was nice, but the black is perfect on you.”
“These aren’t my shoes, Shane.”
“I’m buying the shoes, too.”
“What?”
“I’m buying the shoes.”
“But, Shane, they’re—”
“Worth every penny. Can you get a bag for her regular clothes and a jacket that suits that dress for her, please?”
The clerks knew a sucker when they saw one, and both women darted off to do as I asked.
“It’s not white.”
“I’ve changed my mind about the color requirement. There will be one white dress I’ll want to see you in, but you get to pick that one.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’m going to blame my parents for that.”
She laughed. “All right. I’ll wear the dress out, but only because you wore the suit like a champ and didn’t complain about it. Why the jacket?”
“You need somewhere to hide your gun.”
“So practical.”
“I try. We should go have dinner before we call the cab. Preferably somewhere that will take several hours.” I grinned and checked my new phone for the time. “Two hours should do it. That’ll give them enough time to be a little less snarly when we go over.”
“And where would you suggest we go for dinner?”
I looked up the number of a restaurant on the canal, owned and operated by one of Ernesto’s vampire daughters. Dialing the number, I tapped my foot while waiting for someone to answer.
“Michietti’s,” a man barked before stifling a yawn, which made him one of Ernesto’s many children. I thought about the candidates and assumed I was speaking to Quinton, one of Ernesto’s older sons, a vampire able to handle daylight without frying to a crisp.
“Quinton, it’s Shane Gibson. Is there any chance Pierina she can fit me in with a lady friend?”
“Since when do you have a lady friend?”
“She’s a recent development. I’m even wearing a suit, so I shouldn’t embarrass you fine folks too much this time.”
“A private table for two?”
“If you could. Oh, by the way, your father is paying, so make it extravagant.”
“He is?”
“He borrowed my parents, so he owes me.”
Laughter rang out, loud enough I winced. “Give me a minute, Gibby. I’ll ask the boss, but I bet she’ll fit you in. I think the balcony is free.”
The balcony was private for two and hung over the canal where it fell into the abyss of Chicago’s third level, making the view one of the most spectacular in the lower city—and the most dangerous. I waited, wondering if Marian had any issues with heights. No one had fallen from the balcony at Michietti’s since I’d been in the city. It was over the Lower Chicago side of the canal, so if someone did fall in, there was a chance they could be peeled from the grate before they drowned.
“When do you want to come in, Gibby? I translated the boss’s shrill squeal as an affirmative.”
“We’re at the mall, so it’ll take us twenty or thirty minutes to walk there. Can I get one more favor?”
“What do you need?”
“Tell Larry. He’s running his meter while he waits for us.”
“Our Papa did something to annoy you, didn’t he?”
“When doesn’t he?”
“Good point. Your table will be ready for you when you arrive.”
I hung up, chuckled, and headed for the cash registers so I could make my credit card weep from the amount I’d be spending on Marian’s new dress. We lost ten minutes picking the perfect jacket, but it hid Marian’s gun and had space for her wallet, keys, and phone, making it a win across the board.
The shoes cost more than the dress, and the jacket cost more than the shoes and the dress combined, which confirmed I understood nothing about women’s clothing. I slipped the receipt into my wallet before Marian could get her hands on it, grinned, and grabbed the bag filled with her other clothes.
“Michietti’s is one of the better restaurants in Lower Chicago. It usually serves nocturnals, but it caters to humans, too. It’s also one of the few places that doesn’t discriminate against lycanthropes, so it’s a popular spot for them.”
Marian waited until we left the store to say, “And it’s run by Ernesto.”
“One of his daughters.”
“Biologic or vampiric?”
“Both.”
“I thought vampires couldn’t have children.”
“I believe Ernesto and several of his children were all turned at the same time. Ernesto’s sire turned him, and then Ernesto turned his children during his first feeding. It’s a sore point, so don’t mention it around them. I don’t know why, but it makes Ernesto unhappy, which in turn makes his children unhappy, and when all of them are unhappy, it causes trouble.”
“Noted. And this restaurant? Is it any good?”
“Considering Pierina has been cooking for several thousand years, yeah, it’s good. It’ll be different, though.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say the Etruscans had a slightly different opinion about what counts as food. They tend to use everything, and Pierina is no exception. I’ve done some of my more adventurous dining at Michietti’s, but she does feed those with more modern interests, too. If in doubt, let me order for you.”
“I’m not a squeamish eater.”
“If you get a bleeding heart on your plate, it’s not my fau
lt.”
Michietti’s embraced the glory days of the Roman Empire, breaking free from Lower Chicago’s doom and gloom to offer diners a step through time and a glimpse of the luxury enjoyed long ago. Most people believed the decor, from the ancient busts on podiums lining the walls to the gold leafing patterning the crowning near the domed ceiling, were reproductions, but I knew better. The rare times I caught the older staff staring, the weight of long memories dampened their expressions, especially when their attention turned to the frescos on the ceilings.
The entry featured a painting depicting the Garden of Eden and the dawn of humanity. Every room in the restaurant presented a different fresco on its ceiling, each one capturing a glimpse of history—or a variant of it.
Marian inhaled, her gaze locked overhead while Ernesto’s daughter swept across the room, stood on her toes, and kissed my cheeks. Pierina brushed her fingers against my scar but said nothing of the crippling injury. “It’s been too long since you’ve visited, and looking so handsome for your lady. Introduce us this instant, Gibby.”
“Pierina, this is Marian. She’s in the FBI.”
Marian smiled and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Finally found yourself a badge, did you? If she leaves you heartbroken, come to me. I’ll cheer you up.”
I bet Pierina would, and she’d bring a succubus friend with her. “I’m really hoping that won’t be necessary.”
Pierina’s eyes widened. “That serious?”
“He’s hinting very hard he’d like me in a white dress.” Marian chuckled. “I’ve already bitten him.”
Clapping her hands together, Pierina spun and snapped her fingers at one of her vampire brothers. “This calls for a bottle of our best, and charge it to Papa. It’s a miracle.”
I was tempted to pop my fake eye out and roll it across the marble floor. “I wouldn’t go that far, Pieri.”
“I would. Come, come. I’ll take you to your table, darlings. Don’t mind Gibby, Miss Marian. If he gives you any problems, smack him around a bit. He likes it. You’re lucky he let you bite him. He shoots us in the knees when we think about it. So unfair.”
