Seven Up - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,52

until I found my black lace thong underpants and matching bra. I covered the undies with my usual T-shirt and jeans and swiped on some mascara and lip gloss. If I was going to get kidnapped and tortured I was going to have some fun first.

Bob and Morelli bounded in just as I was pulling on socks.

"I've got egg rolls, vegetable stuff, shrimp stuff, pork stuff, rice stuff, and some stuff that I think was supposed to go to somebody else but found its way into my bag," Morelli said. "And I got beer."

We put everything on the coffee table and turned the television on. Morelli flipped Bob an egg roll. Bob caught it midair and ate it in one gulp.

"We've talked about it, and Bob has agreed to be my best man," Morelli said.

"So there's going to be a wedding?"

"I thought you bought a dress."

I scooped out some shrimp stuff. "It's on hold."

"What's the problem?"

"I don't want a big wedding. It feels dopey. But my grandmother and my mother keep dragging me into one. All of a sudden I've got this dress on. And then next thing we've got a hall reserved. It's like someone sucked my mind out of my head."

"Maybe we should just go get married."

"When?"

"Can't be tonight. The Rangers are playing. Tomorrow? Wednesday?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Are you going to eat that last egg roll?"

My heart stopped dead in my chest. When it started back up again it was skipping beats. Married. Shit! I was excited, right? That's why I felt like I might throw up. It was the excitement. "Don't we need blood tests and licenses and stuff?"

Morelli turned his attention to my T-shirt. "Pretty."

"The shirt?"

He traced a line with his fingertip along the lace edge of my bra. "That, too." His hands slid under the cotton fabric and the shirt was suddenly over my head and discarded. "Maybe you should show me your stuff," he said. "Convince me you're worth marrying."

I raised a single eyebrow. "Maybe you're the one who should be doing the convincing."

Morelli slid the zipper on my jeans. "Cupcake, before the night's over you're going to be begging me to marry you."

I knew from past experience that this was true. Morelli knew how to make a girl wake up smiling. Tomorrow morning walking might be difficult, but smiling would be easy.

MORELLI'S PAGER WENT off at 5:30 A.M. Morelli looked at the readout and sighed. "Informer."

I squinted into the darkness as he moved around the room. "Do you have to go?"

"No. I just have to make a phone call."

He walked into the living room. There was a moment of silence. And then he reappeared in the bedroom doorway. "Did you get up in the middle of the night and put the food away?"

"No."

"There's no food on the coffee table."

Bob.

I dragged myself out of bed, shoved my arms into my robe, and shuffled out to see the carnage.

"I found a couple little wire handles," Morelli said. "Looks like Bob ate the food and the cartons."

Bob was pacing at the door. His stomach was distended, and he was drooling.

Perfect. "You make your phone call and I'll walk Bob," I told Morelli.

I ran back to the bedroom, pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt, and rammed my feet into boots. I clipped the leash onto Bob and grabbed my car keys.

"Car keys?" Morelli asked.

"In case I need a doughnut."

Doughnut my foot. Bob was going to do a great big Chinese-food poop. And he was going to do it on Joyce's lawn. Maybe I could even get him to hurl.

We took the elevator because I didn't want Bob moving around any more than was necessary. We rushed to the car and roared out of the lot.

Bob had his nose pressed to the window. He was panting and belching. His stomach was swollen to bursting.

I had the gas pedal almost to the floor. "Hold on, big fella," I said. "We're almost there. Not long now."

I screeched to a stop in front of Joyce's house. I ran around to the passenger side, opened the door, and Bob flew out. He rocketed to Joyce's lawn, hunched over, and pooped what appeared to be twice his body weight. He paused for a second and horked up a mixture of cardboard box and shrimp chow mein.

"Good boy!" I whispered.

Bob gave himself a shake and bolted back to the car. I slammed the door after him, jumped in on my side, and we took off before the stench could catch up with us. Another