A Fabulous Wedding

by Dianne Castell

  Nick leaned against the side of the building as Barney secured the front doors. “Why do you think I’m searching for Dixie? I could be out taking an evening drive.”

  “Not with that look in your eyes. You got a woman on your mind, boy, and we’re all willing to bet it’s Dixie. I put some nice tomatoes, squash and a yellow pepper in back for you. Stop by tomorrow morning and pick them up. Good luck with Dixie. You two go well together.”

  Nick watched Barney mosey down the sidewalk to his house on Laurel. His wife, Ruth, probably had dinner waiting, and then they’d take a stroll down by the lake. He knew the people in Whistlers Bend and they knew him and trusted him. What would their reaction be when they found out he’d deceived them all this time? Not good, and that was a damn shame. He liked it here a lot.

  Nick parked the truck and walked toward the movie house. The marquee lights overhead illuminated—a Cary Grant festival this week. Charade played tonight. The scent of fresh popcorn wafted out onto the sidewalk; there was a special on Milk Duds and Snickers. Made him hungry. He hadn’t eaten all day, thanks to a certain bear.

  He crossed the street, cutting through the stand of pines in the town square. Dixie had to be around here somewhere. He wanted to be with her. Would so love to be taking her to see Charade. She intrigued him, wowed him, seduced him without even trying. One smile from Dixie and his whole life got a million times better. ’Course, once she found out who he really was he probably wouldn’t have a life, because she’d beat him to a pulp for having lied to her. His only hope was to come clean as soon as possible and explain his actions. That he didn’t take her into his confidence was not in his favor—more like an inscription on his tombstone.

  He was having no luck finding her here, so he took off for the lake. The town wasn’t that big so 5-K of anything had to involve the lake. The sun drenched the mountains in golds and purples that reflected in the water. Dixie stood by the abandoned boat rental, weather shutters closed, the place needing a coat of paint. She was gazing at the scene. No one else around. People in Whistlers Bend took the dinner hour seriously.

  “We need to talk,” he ventured as he approached.

  She cut her eyes to him, a desperate glint there. “You want to talk? Here? Now? You and me? What a waste!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. This was so much better than talking!

  His heart slammed against his ribs, desire tore through him, frustration pushed him to the edge and he pinned her against the side of the building, taking her in his arms and nearly ravaging her on the spot.

  His tongue captured hers, then hers did the same. Her breasts firmed against his chest and her legs parted; his erection nuzzled into her. She tugged his shirt from his waistband, her fingertips pressing into his skin.

  “If we do this,” she said…At least, that was what he thought she’d said, because he was sucking her lower lip into his mouth, distorting her speech right along with his brain. “We’ll be on the front page of the Whistle Stop.”

  “No one’s around. It’s dinnertime.” His tongue traced over her top lip.

  “This is the Bend. Everyone knows everything. If this shop wasn’t locked…”

  He pulled out his wallet. Got a condom and held the foil package in his teeth as he took out a wire and wiggled it into the lock, springing it in record time. A man motivated. He snagged her hand, dragged her inside and kicked the door closed behind him. Rays of light slipped through the shutter slats. He unbuttoned his jeans as quickly as she undid her slacks. She yanked off her boots, then her jeans. He simply lowered his, not wanting to mess with boots again. He dropped his shirt onto the table, lifted her there, and as she wrapped her legs around his middle, he slid on the condom and then slid into her, his heart pounding, his desire for her stronger than any force on earth.

  DIXIE FELT her head spin. How could she want Nick so badly when he was so…bad? He thrust into her again, then again, then he gripped her as his climax ignited hers. “Oh, Nick!”

  “Dixie!” He hissed into the stillness. He kissed her neck, her ear, then claimed her mouth. He rested his cheek against hers. “Holy hell.”

  “I don’t think it can be both.”

  “We just proved it can.”

  Meaning what? she wondered.

  He framed her face between his palms and kissed her again.

  “We just took friendship to a whole new level. What you do to me…” He exhaled. “What we do to each other. I—”

  “Yoo-hoo. Anybody in there?” came Barney’s voice from outside the bait shop.

  “There’s no one in there,” said Ruth.

  “I tell you I heard voices.”

  “That’s just wishful thinking because you want the boat shop to reopen.”

  Nick’s gaze met Dixie’s and he made a ssh sound. He grabbed the door handle and held it in place as Barney tried to open it from the other side.

  “See,” said Ruth. “The place is locked up tighter than the Denver mint.”

  “I tell you I heard voices.”

  “It’s your age. Give it up, old man, and I’ll buy you a piece of apple pie at the Sage.”

  Nick stood still; Dixie didn’t move, either, the sound of retreating footsteps on gravel fading. “That was damn close,” he whispered into the stillness. “Being the brunt of town gossip is not my idea of fun.”

  But this was! Way too much fun. She studied Nick, wanting him again…right now! “We should leave separately. You sneak out first, then I’ll follow. There’s a path through the pines out back that leads into town.”

  His fingers raked through his mussed coal-black hair. “I hate sneaking around.” He gazed at her for a moment. “Maybe we shouldn’t sneak. Maybe we should get everything between us out in the open.”

  “The open?” Except he was a big fat lying smuggler. Okay, so he wasn’t fat, but the lying smuggler was true enough. She didn’t want to get that involved with him. But she was already involved majorly so. “We just made the jump from friend to…whatever. Maybe we should wait.”

  He smiled at her, a sincere warm smile, making her smile, too. “But I can’t wait too long, Dixie girl.” He turned, cracked the door and peered outside. “Remember to lock up and be careful out there.” Then he slipped outside, his steps fading into the woods.

  What a total mess, she thought as she shrugged into her jeans. She liked Nick a lot, tons in fact. And he was breaking the law big-time. But somehow, for some reason he didn’t seem the type to do that.

  Get a grip, Dix. What type was a smuggler? What did a smuggler look like? They didn’t wear a bandana with the Jolly Roger emblazoned on it and a patch over one eye. But why would someone like Nick Romero, who seemed concerned about other people and their welfare, smuggle things that hurt so many? Nothing made sense.

  She peeked outside to see if anyone was around, reset the lock and closed the door behind her. She headed into the trees, walked over pinecones and rocks till she got to the sidewalk. She looked both ways before easing out onto the town. She straightened her clothes and headed for the sheriff’s office. This whole situation had to end—she and Nick and the smuggling operation needed to be shut down before she went completely loopy. She’d turn this whole mess over to Jack and let him figure it out. No matter how attracted she was to Nick—and she was plenty attracted—she couldn’t let him get away with smuggling.

  She crossed the street and opened the sheriff’s office door. BJ sat in a wood chair, holding a baby dressed in soft pink. Flynn stood behind her, looking happier than Dixie ever remembered him being, and Maggie and Jack gazing on.

  “Well, isn’t it just the gal we were looking for,” BJ said. She beamed. “Come meet the newest adopted addition to the MacIntire family.” She glanced up at Flynn. “And heaven knows there’ve been a lot of additions in the past month. We stopped in to introduce Angela to Jack, then Maggie came along, and now you’re here. It’s perfect.” BJ smiled. “Everything’s perfect.”

  Flynn kissed her. They trusted eac
h other to the end of time. Dixie would give anything to have that trust with Nick. But once again her taste in men sucked. Dixie scooped the baby into her arms. “She’s darling.”

  “We called Margaret and Drew and Petey in Martha’s Vineyard. They’re thrilled. I think they spent a whole day in New York shopping for the baby.” She bit her lip. “I hope they can come home soon. The boys are really getting homesick.”

  Dixie handed Angela back to BJ. “That’s why I’m here.” She pulled in a big breath. “There’s a break in the smuggling operation.”

  Jack folded his arms. “There is?”

  Dixie continued before she could chicken out. “We should be able to put an end to this very soon. Fact is, someone in town connects to the smugglers.”

  Jack nodded. “We’ve decided that someone in town is a snitch. Whoever it is seems to be aware of when Roy and I are out or in town and makes a move then.” His brows pulled together. “How’d you know?”

  “Because I’ve been spending a whole of time with this snitch. Nick Romero’s in with the smugglers.”

  Jack’s jaw dropped a fraction. “Come again?”

  Dixie held up her fingers to count the ways. “He has the merchandise in his house. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He meets with trucks in the middle of the night. I’ve been there for that, too. He has the perfect cover and can break into locked buildings like no other.” She blushed. “But the point is, these are not practices of a normal chef. The man’s got more going on than his…cannelloni.”

  “Thought you liked my cannelloni,” said Nick from the back hallway.

  She spun around and blushed deeper. Oh, damn! Not only had he caught her ratting him out, but he was clearly referencing their latest meeting at the bait shop. Guess turning in your lover was a bit over the top. But what else could she do?

  He came into the room. Everyone’s eyes went from her to Nick. Then everyone sat back and watched. The scene was like a blasted soap opera.

  “So,” he said as he stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, “you think I’m in with the smugglers.”

  She folded her arms, her gaze meeting his, neither backing down. “You are not just a chef.”

  “Have you looked at my place lately? If I’m not a chef, what’s all that stuff doing there?”

  “That doesn’t mean there isn’t more going on in your life than great recipes.”

  Jack picked up a paper from his desk and handed it to her. “I had Nick and Wes checked out. With the smuggling going on and strangers in town, it was a good idea.” He nodded at the report. “He is just a chef, Dix. Wes is just a photojournalist. Period. This is from the Denver Police Department.”

  Dixie studied the paper, which listed places he’d worked, previous addresses. All very authentic. Feeling totally stupid and idiotic and completely mortified, she cut her eyes back to Nick. “Just a chef?”

  His eyes softened. “Just a chef.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Pots, pans, menus. Chef.”

  BJ stood. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that straightened out, I’m going to put Angela down.” She studied Maggie, then Dixie. “Lend a hand? I’m new at the baby stuff. Just because I’m a doctor doesn’t mean I can practice what I preach.”

  Okay, this was just a little embarrassing. But when Dixie Carmichael was wrong she was wrong, and not afraid to admit it. She faced Nick. “Then I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I accused you of smuggling.”

  He shrugged. “I’m nothing but an innocent bystander with a spatula in my hand.”

  But he didn’t seem like an innocent anything, and not just because he was dynamite in the sack. Something hummed below the surface besides spaghetti sauce. She knew it the way she knew when people ordered food at the Sage and wouldn’t be able to pay for it, or if they were going to leave a big tip or were going to hit on her…she could just tell.

  Dixie followed BJ and Maggie out to the street and helped BJ strap the baby in the stroller. “I’m not good company right now,” she said. “I’m going to take off. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Without giving them time to protest, Dixie headed for Gracie’s to get her car. Dusk hugged the town as the last rays of sunlight dropped behind the mountains. She wanted to be alone, think things out. Nick had completely upended her, in more ways than one. Danny’s Delight was available, and a perfect place to sort through this mess. To figure out how she could be so wrong about Nick Romero.

  NICK GAZED ACROSS the sheriff’s office from Flynn to Jack. “Oh, boy. When those three find out we’ve been lying to them about who I am, they are not going to take it well.”

  Flynn gave a dry chuckle. “They’ll skin us alive because we didn’t level with them right off.”

  “Who’s leveling what?” Wes asked as he strode in through the back door.

  “You wouldn’t have to ask if you were here on time and not sniffing around Gracie Carmichael,” Nick said.

  Wes shrugged and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Would I be doing that? This is business.”

  “Hell. Fooling-around business,” Nick added. “But watch what you say near Gracie. If she and the other three realized what was going on, they’d be hounding us for information. Dixie would be glued to my hip to get her story, and BJ and Maggie wouldn’t be far behind because they’d be watching out for Dixie.”

  “And because they’re the nosiest females in Montana,” Jack added. “We have to take our chances with the women finding out later rather than sooner. The three of them running around hunting for smugglers is not what we want right now.”

  He nodded to the back. “Being out here, where the whole town can see us together, is not a good idea. Let’s go into the storage room. It’s like a second office. For when we need to keep things quiet.”

  They trooped to the back and Jack turned to the map of the area, tacked on a big board. With a blue marker, he circled spots, saying, “I’ve been thinking about the smugglers meeting up. They’re due to be here the night after next. There are five areas we should cover and five of us, counting Roy.”

  “We’ll use satellite phones to keep in touch,” Nick said. He peered at the others. “We’ll be on our own out there and these guys are getting antsy. If we don’t get them this go-round, I’m betting there won’t be a next time. They’ll move to another state and we’ll have to start over searching for leads. None of us wants that. We get to nail these bastards so Dixie and Drew will be safe. No one takes these guys on their own. Call for backup. We all walk away from this in one piece.”

  His insides tightened as he gazed at the three men—great guys with a hell of a lot to live for. Jack was marrying Maggie, Flynn had a new family, Wes was getting real chummy with Gracie and he had…His restaurant? Hell of a substitute for Dixie. But once she wrote her story she was moving on, and that was that.

  “Okay,” Jack said, interrupting Nick’s thoughts. “We meet at Nick’s night after next. We’ll tell the womenfolk we’re having a poker night there. Mention cigars and there’s no way they’ll want to tag along or stop in.”

  Nick followed Wes out the back door of the office into the darkness, a single light brightening the stoop. “Heading to Gracie’s?” he asked.

  Wes gave him a half smile that seemed a little vulnerable and a lot happy. “She’s a good woman, Nick. Her kids come first, she’s true and caring and lots of fun, and she trusts me.” The smile vanished. “Damn, I hate lying to her. Her no-good ex did that. Played her for a fool. He used her, double-crossed her, and now I’m doing the very same thing…sort of. Damn, I hate doing that.”

  Nick had never heard Wes talk this way. The bureau and whatever was needed to get the job done had always been his priority, until Gracie Carmichael dropped into his life. “Something about those Carmichael women.”

  Wes shook his head, determination etched on his face. “I don’t want to leave Gracie, Nick. I’ve never met anyone like her, someone I connect with. But when she finds out I’ve lied to her and used her, she
’ll throw rocks at me.”

  “Tell Gracie you did all the wrong things for all the right reasons. For the national good. She’ll understand and you could have a great time convincing her. She’s not unreasonable and you didn’t hurt her for personal gain. She understands that BJ will get her family back when this is all over and Dixie will be out of danger.” He slapped Wes on the back. “It’ll work.”

  “But I’m an agent. How will she feel about that? Things happen to agents and she doesn’t need that danger for her children.”

  “From the sound of it I’d say you were headed to be an ex-agent, and when this is all over, there’s no reason we can’t pass you off as a concerned citizen, or a nosy photographer who got in the way. People might suspect otherwise, but they’ll never be a hundred percent sure. You’ll have to level with Gracie, of course, but you’ve already got a cover in place. Use that.”

  He fell into step beside Wes, who asked, “And what about you and Dixie?”

  “In two days she’ll have her story and be out of here, on her way to a life I want no part of.” He nodded ahead. “Any special reason we’re heading to Gracie’s?”

  “The wallboard’s in and I’m going to help her paint, get the place ready for the grand opening.”

  Nick felt a grin split his face. “Paint? You? Have you ever painted anything?”

  He blushed. “I painted her toenails the other night. Does that count?”

  Nick chuckled. “I think it counts a hell of a lot.”

  The light was on in the Carmichael house, and when Wes knocked, Katie and Cameron rushed for the door. They’d each drawn a picture for Wes, and said their mom was in the basement. Wes told them to lock the door and not answer without an adult present. Nick followed Wes down the stairs to the lower-level.