Wrong Question, Right Answer (The Bourbon Street Boys #3) - Elle Casey Page 0,80

so sweet.” She runs over to her fiancé and throws herself into his arms.

He envelops her in a hug but looks up at me. “Congratulations,” he says. “I’m happy for you.” He detaches himself from May and she lets him go. He walks over and stands in front of me.

I look up at him, the silver spoon in my hands. I speak softly because I don’t want May to hear what I’m saying. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier.”

He shakes his head. “Not another word about that. We’re fine. We’re good. Just don’t think you’re going anywhere, because I’m not going to let you. You’re part of the team forever. ’Til death do us part.”

I can’t say a word because I don’t trust myself not to bawl like a baby. I just put my arms around him and give him a hug, so happy he doesn’t hate me or want me to go find a job somewhere else.

“You can keep working in the field like you always have, for as long as you want. I’m going to let you decide what you can and can’t do.”

I nod. “Thanks. It wasn’t so bad today.” I’m telling him the truth, not trying to suck up. It wasn’t crazy and it wasn’t fun, but it also wasn’t dangerous. “I found a lot of great stuff. It’s all right there in the report. You should probably read it and contact the chief.”

He nods. “Good job.”

Relief floods me. Lucky was right. I can’t keep living my life like it hasn’t changed. It’s not just me I have to worry about; there’s a little somebody inside me now who I need to be worried about too. I can’t do stupid shit like I used to do.

I let go of Ozzie and back up, gathering my gifts from the table and shoving them into my bag. “Thanks, guys. Really. I mean it. You didn’t have to do this. It was real nice, though.”

Thibault is standing in the doorway. “I feel like an asshole,” he says. “I didn’t get you anything.”

I smile at him as I walk by. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back in babysitting.”

He scoffs, but then I hear his voice coming from behind me, a hint of worry there. “Are you serious? Are you sure I’m qualified?”

I launch my parting shot as I go through the next door. “You’re just as qualified as I am.” And that’s going to have to be good enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I am now eight weeks pregnant and Lucky has convinced me that I need to go see a doctor. I fought it for as long as I could, but after reading more of those books he bought me, I realized he’s right. I need to have some professional eyes on this baby, because I have no idea what I’m doing. Thankfully the New Orleans Police Department made some good arrests based on the information we gathered in our reports last night, so we have a couple days of breathing room while they conduct interrogations and try to gather more data for our team.

Lucky’s driving, still convinced I take too many risks when I’m behind the wheel. I don’t care enough to argue with him about it. It could be because he was right about one thing: I do have more speeding tickets than anyone else on the team. But in my own defense, I’ve always been a cop magnet. Buying a mini-van might solve that problem, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to do that. My baby’s going to be riding around in style, just like I am.

We arrive at the doctor’s office ten minutes ahead of schedule because Lucky insists on leaving way too early. He parks the car and turns off the engine, but he doesn’t take off his seatbelt.

He looks over at me and gives me a nervous smile. “Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as I’m ever going to be.” I take off my seatbelt and put my hand on the door, but Lucky’s hand on my wrist stops me. I look down at his touch and then up at him. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you letting me stay at your place.”

I shrug. “It’s not like I even know you’re there.” I’m trying not to be bitter about that. He told me that he was going to stay out of my way when I agreed to let him move in, but he’s stayed way