AVERY
“You can’t marry a man you just met.” Mr. Lou chuckles. “Just kidding. Our grandkids love that movie. Frozen.” He turns to me. “Shall I start making arrangements for the ceremony?”
“Yes. The sooner the better.”
“Of course.” Mr. Lou claps me on the shoulder. “May and I thought it would never happen for you, but now we couldn’t be happier.”
“Wait.” Marigold steps between us. “Elsa was right, though. I can’t marry a man I just met.” She reaches for the ring.
I stay her hand. “You’re marrying me, Goldie, whether you like it or not.”
“So you can keep me quiet about the murder thing?” she huffs.
“No, I’d like you to get quite loud, actually.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “What?”
“Once we’re married, I expect you to be loud every night when I’m between your luscious thighs and–”
She slaps her hand over my mouth. “Oh my God.” She glances over her shoulder at Mrs. Lou. “They can hear you!”
“No worries.” Mrs. Lou waves her spatula. “How do you think Claude and I wound up with so many grandchildren?”
Mr. Lou walks over to her and kisses the side of her neck.
“Oh, stop, you silly goose.” She swats at him playfully as he goes to one of the cabinets and begins pulling out plates.
I pull her hand from my mouth and kiss her palm. “The ring is yours.”
“Right, because I stole it,” she sasses back.
“If you like.” I’m not going to argue the point, not when my ring is on her finger.
“And I’m leaving. I’m not letting myself be kidnapped anymore. I have stuff to do. So I can’t stay here when I need to be working or volunteering at the shelter. Like I said, I have to go.”
“No, you don’t.” I scoot her over to the island and put her in her seat. “You aren’t leaving.”
“Yes, I am. I have a volunteer shift at the shelter today.”
I suppose that’s important to her. There’s no need for her to work–especially if that work puts her in harm’s way via buffoons like Hoover–but I’ve seen the way she is with Heirloom. If she wants to help cats looking for a home, I don’t have an issue with it. “Oh, well that’s all right. I’ll drive you.”
“I can drive myself.” She sips her coffee.
“Not in that deathtrap.” I take a plate from Mrs. Lou and place it in front of Marigold, then grab the syrup and pour her a hefty amount.
“Woah.” She takes a bite of her crisp bacon. “That’s plenty. I don’t need to flirt with diabeetus at this early age.”
I smirk at her pronunciation. I rather like it when she’s cheeky, I’ve found.
I fill her glass with fresh orange juice. “I’ll drive you to the shelter. I have some business in the city, and then I can pick you up when your shift is over.”
She shakes her head. “I can drive.”
“Is this a sticking point for you, little thief?” I ask her.
“Yes.” She shrugs. “I like driving.”
“All right then. But you won’t be driving your car until I’ve had a thorough inspection and repair done on it.”