Driving Mr. Dead

Page 24


“Hmph,” I grumbled.


“And for the record, Ophelia’s sister was turned when she was a child. Ophelia does everything she can to make life more interesting for Georgie, including collecting very rare, very expensive toys. That teddy bear we were transporting was worth more than five hundred thousand dollars at auction. It’s one of a kind. And I only managed to track it down by threatening several of my sources with …” He spared my mother a glance. “A very harsh scolding.”


“A half-million-dollar teddy bear?”


“A very, very rare half-million-dollar teddy bear.”


I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I hate you guys. I really, really do.”


“Oh, Miranda,” Mom scolded.


“I am sorry,” he said. “I never meant to make you feel foolish. And I know I have been churlish and arrogant and—”


“Pigheaded,” I suggested.


“That seems fair,” he conceded as I stepped toward him.


“Demanding,” I added.


He slipped his hand through my hair, cradling my cheek against his palm. “I’ll accept that.”


“Dickish,” I said.


“I’m not sure that’s a word,” he protested.


“Which would be a problem if we were playing a board game, but since this is supposed to be an apology to me, I’ll say whatever I want. Mmm-kay?”


His lips twitched, even with my mom’s horrified gasp in the background. She never cared much for my way with words. “I can’t say I love you yet, but I know that I want enough time to figure it out. I’ve been alone for so long. And I was unhappy, but I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t know what I was missing. And then you came stumbling into my life and I saw that it was you. I can live without you, but I don’t want to.” I stood motionless, gaping at him. He grimaced. “Too far?”


I shook my head. “No, that was just about perfect.”


“I do find myself curious—have you finally broken ties with the ‘butt-dialer’?”


“Yes. Decidedly. What exactly are you asking from me?”


“I was thinking that after spending much more time together, we could determine whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Whether you feel the way I do. I think I could make you happy … barring natural disasters, mechanical failure, inadvertent public nudity, and pestilence pouring forth from the sky.”


“Not funny, but I accept,” I murmured against his lips as he moved in to kiss me. I could hear my mother sniffling in the background. She was clearly eating this up with a spoon, and who could blame her? This was every suave-ass Cary Grant moment ever filmed, wrapped up in a much hotter package.


“Iris doesn’t accept your resignation, by the way,” he told me. “She said that anyone who can deliver a client safely, on time, with all of the mishaps we suffered and the, er, difficult nature of said client, is definitely someone she wants on the payroll.”


“Even with the damage to the car?”


He shrugged. “She said to think of it as a prototype. Clearly, a built-in GPS system is the first feature she will be ordering in the next model. She would like you to take a few days off to recover, then return to work on Friday, with a pay raise.”


“A raise?” Mom exclaimed.


“Ophelia found my description of our adventures to be highly entertaining. I think Iris is afraid that Ophelia will try to poach you to be her personal driver. Either way, Iris has another assignment for you.”


“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I said.


“It’s a bit closer to home this time, from the Hollow to New Orleans and back. Jane has a vampire author coming into the shop for a book signing, and she prefers to see a bit of the country when she travels.”


“I don’t know if I can face another motel for a while,” I told him.


“She specifically mentioned the Peabody Hotel in Memphis. Luxurious accommodations and a minibar you can ransack to your heart’s content.”


“Memphis?” I squealed. “I’ve never taken pictures of Mud Island. Oh, I can get kicked out of Graceland!”


Mom sighed. “Oh, Miranda, not again.”


“That security guard had no sense of humor, Mom.”


“Well, you wouldn’t be alone,” Collin said. “I’ve requested that you drive me back to Washington … at some point … which I haven’t determined yet.”


“Let me guess.” I snorted. “Return date wasn’t mentioned in that sixteen-page contract rider.”


“No. I expected to return immediately. But I’ve found that Half-Moon Hollow has certain … attractions I did not anticipate.”


“I thought you were the master of anticipation.”


He slipped his arms around my waist. “Well, some things are even better than anything my paltry gift could conjure up.”


“You are too much,” I told him.


“And by the way, Iris has a new policy. All client-requirement riders are to be a maximum of three pages. Her exact words were, ‘You will never have to put up with anything like that again.’”


“Will wonders never cease?” I said, smirking at him. “So we have a few days before I have to report back to work. We can get into a lot of trouble in a few days. If only we had vampire-safe transportation.”


“And I just happen to have vampire-safe transportation available,” he said, pulling the curtain aside to reveal a dark SUV.


“How did you rent a car without ID?” I asked.


“Did you know that the Council can issue valid vampire identification without a waiting period? And negotiate money transfers with Swiss banks? And replace vampire-safe vehicles destroyed in the course of Council business?”


“I did not know that.”


“And they managed to wrangle a replacement for the credit card that motel clerk cut up.”


I asked, “Do I want to know how they knew my account numbers?”


He shook his head. “No.”


Because the housekeeper had finished the laundry, my traveling clothes were already clean and neatly folded. I stuffed them into my battered bag and slipped into jeans and one of Collin’s shirts. He would get it back … eventually.


I tromped down the stairs and could hear Mom tittering about the romance of a spontaneous weekend trip and how she and Daddy used to do that all the time together. I’m not sure which marriage she’s remembering, but I certainly didn’t recall Daddy whisking Mom anywhere that didn’t involve a deposition.


Collin was shooting a pleading look at the stairs just as Mom said, “I’m so sorry Lyle wasn’t home tonight to meet you. He’d planned to be here, but he got held up at work, which is typical. But I suppose Miranda won’t have to worry about that with you, will she? She mentioned that you work from home. How fortunate for her …”


Was I mistaken, or was my mother sort of flirting with my vampire almost-boyfriend?


“Ready?” I asked, snickering.


“Yes, please.”


“Be careful, sweetheart. Do let Collin drive every once in a while.”


“Actually, Mrs. Puckett, we tend to fare better when Miranda is driving.”


“Really?” Mom lifted her brows. She rubbed her sternum, just over her heart. “I think I just stopped worrying, just the tiniest bit. What a refreshing change of pace.”


“She’s hallucinating,” I told Collin. “Run for it.”


I trotted out to the rented SUV, which looked like the Batmobile’s clone. I patted the boobless hood fondly. “I dub thee the Batmobile Two. I would crack champagne over your grille, but I think we all know how that would turn out.”


“A busted headlight?” Collin guessed. I nodded. “Well, she’s been christened in spirit, if not in spirits.”


“If that’s the quality of humor I can anticipate on this trip, it’s going to be a long drive,” I told him, climbing into the driver’s seat.


“Can we discuss your damaged knuckles?” he asked as I handed him the atlas. He bent his head over my hand to inspect the bruises. “Does this new injury have anything to do with your fiancé’s poor taste in jewelry?”


“I think it’s best to leave you wondering.”


“I would expect nothing less of my girl.”


I chuckled. “Memphis is only going to take a couple of hours. Did you want to swing around on our way back and visit somewhere else? I’m thinking Branson. It’s the Las Vegas of the Midwest.”


He frowned. “I was thinking something closer for our first stop. Someplace like your bedroom.”


“I haven’t had time to get an apartment. I was staying with my parents. I just woke up. Did you think I normally looked like that in the evening?”


He ignored that verbal land mine and chirped, “Branson it is, then.”


“It was just a suggestion. We don’t even have to go to Memphis if you don’t want to. We can just drive until we find a nice little bed-and-breakfast … or the closest available flat surface …”


“I like that last option.”


I angled my chin toward the atlas. “So which way do we go?”


He tossed the map into the backseat, where it landed in a heap. He leaned over the console, catching my mouth in a hot, sweet kiss. “You decide.”


Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.