Murder_ A Sinful Secrets Romance - Ella James Page 0,191
the little pewter holder. “Yeah, Nic’s parents kinda have a hard Christmas, you know, so we thought that would be better.”
“Will he be sneaking in your window like last year?”
She smiles. “No. We’re an old couple now.”
“I didn’t say it.”
“Pshh. Not lately. You’re too busy with your own man.”
I can’t even help it. I start beaming like a kid with candy.
“He’s nice looking, G. I mean, nice looking.”
Cue more beaming.
“It’s too soon to say, but I think my girl might have gotten lucky.”
I’m giggling, even as I roll my eyes and throw my head back. Which reminds me I should pull my hair up. Which I do.
Jamie starts to wash her face, so I can talk without her omniscient eyes on me.
“I think so too,” I say to her bent shoulders. “He’s pretty wonderful.”
“Your mother sculpted for him. That’s a sign.”
I nod. “She never did like Elvie.”
“No. I don’t think anybody did.”
“Except me.” I arch a brow at myself in the mirror. “Young, dumb Gwen.”
She pats her face with a towel. “We’ve all been young and dumb, G.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” I yawn. “I should go join Prince Charming in bed.”
“I think it’s kind of funny that he has a headache.”
“Bitch!” I swipe at her. She laughs. “Not funny. But isn’t he like Mr. Secret Agent Man. They go to mountains sometimes, right?”
“He has a brain injury, Jamie.” I give her a for-shame look and shake my head.
“Well go take care of him,” she says, giving me a little glare. “These men, wrecking our girl time.”
“I know, right?”
“I think you kind of love it, though.”
I hug her. “I so do.”
“I love you, Gwennie.”
“You more, Jam.”
“I’ll think of something for you for tomorrow.”
“Yeah—you better.”
We trade smiles and then I’m in the dark, quiet, second-floor hall, heading toward mine and Barrett’s room, positioned at the far end of the floor for reasons not unknown. I grin.
Tomorrow night, Nic is hosting a giant costume party at his family’s place next door. Jamie said it was only going to be a normal party, but one of Nic’s friends is the tattoo artist who did my snowflake, and he has some Zelda costume, so they made a party around his desire to wear it. Ha.
Zelda reminds me, strangely, of Zoro. Maybe I should convince Bear to dress up as Zoro. Isn’t he that masked marauder who wears all black and carries a gun? That would be so hot.
Maybe I should go as a bear. If I can find a bear suit. Which, okay, is 100 percent unlikely. I could go as a bandit. Then I could wear a bandana over my face.
In Breckenridge, I’m sort of…known. I wasn’t ever really famous or anything, but enough people knew my face that when I had the accident, the papers in this area chronicled my recovery. Especially given how dramatic it was. I guess that made me all the more interesting.
I don’t know. But my mouth draws attention, and with my red hair, I’m just worried people will ask about the accident. So I’ll need some kind of mask.
I hear something behind me, and turn in time to see Jamie striding toward me in a black dress. “Hey, you. Hang on.”
I give a low whistle. “I thought you were just going to ‘some Southern place with fried stuff.’”
She shrugs. “It’s a bar type place. You know Nic. He gets the invites every time a new place opens. I remembered something, though, G. Something I thought you might be interested in.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Some guys came by here last night. Said they’d seen the snow plow toppled over near the street.” The house’s maintenance guy did, indeed, topple the plow; thank goodness he wasn’t hurt. “Anyway. I could be wrong but I thought they looked familiar. I think we saw them that night.”
“Really?”
She nods.
“Interesting. What did they act like?”
“Just normal.” She shrugs. “You told me to tell you anything that came up that reminded me of the accident, so I wanted to try.”
“Thanks. And have fun out.”
“Will do.”
As I turn, I realize I didn’t ask their names. And strangely, I don’t stop her. I don’t need to know right now. Not right before it’s time for bed. I just want to snuggle up with Bear and have a dreamless night.
TWENTY ONE
NICCOLO
January 1, 2012
1:28 a.m.
My motherfucking father: popular as all fuck politician, shithead of a person. Everyone in Breck knows it. I can’t imagine how Kim bears it. I’d have left him years ago. When I get back—I’ll have to go home