“Sorry about that,” I say, trying to smile. My heart’s racing like it’s a freaking Ferrari, going a hundred miles an hour.
“Will you step out of the car, ma’am?” Oh, my freaking hell. He made me roll down my window just to ask me to get out of the car?
“Uh—sure.”
Once I’m out of the car and he’s looked me over, he asks, “may I see your ID?” You’ve got to be joking. Why didn’t you ask for that first, Mister geez-Louise.
I turn around and Cole hands me my wallet out of my purse. I have a hard time getting my driver’s license out of the window pocket it sits in. With a couple of tugs, it comes loose, but so do all my other cards. They all fly out, hitting the officer in the chest, scattering on the ground.
“Holy cow—sorry, so sorry,” I say, bending down, picking up my cards as fast as I can. Except now, I don’t know where my driver’s license has fallen. I get on my hands and knees. There’s my ID under the car. Of course, it is. Why anything in my life could ever go smoothly is beyond me. I lie on my stomach and stretch out my arm, my fingers flail around the license a couple of times until I manage to grasp it.
“Here you go.” I hand my ID to the officer and brush dirt and rocks off my clothes.
“Miss Cook, do you know how fast you were going?”
“Oh, actually it’s Holt. My last name is Holt. I just got married and Mr. Holt—I mean Cole and me—we’re headed to Idaho so he can meet my parents. So, my last name is Holt, not Cook.” I sound like a rambling fool. which I am. I’m a complete nervous wreck, honestly. I’m just grateful I can stand and talk at all at this point.
“Ma’am, your speed?”
“Forty,” I shout. “I was only going forty. I don’t want to wreck Fancy Shmancy. It’s too expensive of a car. I can’t even believe a car can actually cost that much. I’m pretty sure if you add up all the bills I ever accumulated in my lifetime, they wouldn’t beat the price of this car. Holy Moly, this car is expensive.”
“Ma’am, have you taken any type of drugs lately?”
“What drugs?” I’m practically screaming at the police officer. “NO! I’m a good girl. I’ve never done any type of drugs, ever.”
“What about alcohol?”
“Well, sure, I’ve had alcohol before. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I have ever drank as much as I did over the weekend. I drank a lot. Oh, but I wasn’t drunk when Cole and I got married.” I slowly realize he isn’t asking about my history of drinking. He’s asking if I have recently, as in the past few hours. “Oh—but wait, I haven’t had anything to drink today. I mean, I haven’t had any alcohol today. I’m really not much of a drinker. I’m really sorry,” I say for the hundredth time, “you’re making me really nervous and I’m already on edge having to go home and tell my parents that I eloped in Las Vegas. They might hate me. And Cole just told me how much this Ferrari cost him, and I freaked out because, like I said, it was really expensive.” I inhale a large gulp of air and slump against the car. I’m totally going to jail. This guy probably thinks I’m nuts. Which I kind of am at the moment.
I feel an arm wrap around me and jump. It’s Cole. “Oh, hey.” I glance back at the officer, who is staring at me like I belong in a mental institution. “Will you bail me out of jail, Cole?”
The police officer hands me back my driver’s license. “Be careful on the road, Mrs. Holt. We get quite a few drunk drivers on the highway between Ely and McGill. Lots of times when people have had too much to drink, they will drive slow, thinking if they stay under the speed limit they won’t get caught. Which is the reason I pulled you over this evening. Good-luck with your family.” I watch astonished, as the police officer tips his hat to me and walks back to his police car.
I grab the front of Cole’s shirt and whisper, “he didn’t arrest me. I lost my mind, and he still didn’t arrest me.”
Cole kisses the corner of my mouth. “It’s okay baby, you’re just having a rough day.”
You can say that again—hell—you can say it a hundred times.
CHAPTER THREE
It’s around nine-thirty when we pull into the driveway of my nineteen-fifties ranch style home. I’ve been wringing my hands for the past thirty minutes. I’m afraid I’m getting a heart condition from the erratic way it keeps beating. The outside lights in front of the garage come on. I pull my garage door opener out of my bag and click it. It groans to life opening. “Want to park the Fancy Shmancy in the garage?” I ask, eying Cole.
He grins, grabs my wrung-out hand, kissing it. “Yes baby, and then I’m going to do some fancy shmancy things to you.” And he cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Well, get to it, Holt. We’re wasting precious time.” A distraction is exactly what I need to take the edge off my worry. I see the headlights behind us and remember Luke. “Is Luke staying with us? I have an extra bedroom, but it only has a twin size bed.”
“No, he will get a hotel room.”
“Oh, okay. Cole, why is he here? Not that I don’t like Luke, but isn’t it a bit excessive to have him here?”
“He’s here to help run interference with business matters. If there’s something that needs my immediate attention, he’ll let me know.” We get out of the car and Cole and Luke bring our bags in.
I stand on the porch while Cole walks Luke out to the SUV. I peer over at my neighbors whose house is normally quiet this time of night, but tonight it’s all alight with activity. A slew of cars line the driveway and street, all of which I recognize. This is not good. I hear a honk and Luke waves to me as he heads off to some hotel. I wave goodbye and then walk into my house. I sigh, looking around the living room. I really love my little piece of the world. I hear Cole walk in and shut the door. He comes up, putting his arms around me. “Welcome to my home, Mr. Holt.” I croon reaching up and kissing him on the nose.
He turns me in his arms. “Don’t you mean; our home, Mrs. Holt?” And I’m hoisted over his shoulder.
I yelp with surprise, grabbing his waist to help brace myself. “Where’s the bedroom, Cookie? We have some serious house christening to do.”