Scotty smirked. “Oh. Now I’m the love of your life, am I?”

  I brought my hand to his jaw, stroking the coarse stubble. “Yeah. You are.”

  He blew out a breath I felt against my skin as I leaned close. “For the record, you are, too.”

  “Mmm. But you still have doubts.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but I didn’t let him deny it.

  “Yeah, you do. Some part of you is still insecure about me, Cariño. You made up your mind what kind of guy I was even before we got started and I screwed up a bit in the beginning, which convinced you that you were right to be skeptical.”

  Scott closed his mouth, then gave me a sort of sheepish look. “I try not to be.”

  “I know. But the trust isn’t completely there.” I gave him a brief kiss before getting out of bed. “Honestly, I thought about waiting to ask you to marry me, because I’m not sure it’s completely smart to get married when one half of us is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I love you, Scotty, and I want you to be a part of me forever, so I went for it.”

  I went into the bathroom, and didn’t wait for his reply. I took a brief shower and dressed in the bathroom. When I came out, he was still lying in bed with his eyes closed. Either having gone back to sleep or pretending to, I wasn’t sure which.

  Either way, I left to make breakfast.

  * * * *

  The weather wasn’t the greatest. That was the first thing I noticed as I moved into the kitchen. It was sunny, yeah, mostly anyway, with the fog moving out of Haydon Cliff, but the winds were whipping around, kicking up trash and dust, and dry nasty conditions.

  It had been my experience during my time on the force that crime elevated in the Cliff during the wind. There was probably some psychology to that or something, but at the moment, those theories, if they existed, escaped me.

  It had been relatively quiet in the city since Callahan and Mantegna had solved their serial killer case. Which had basically been some sleazeball killing elderly women to cover up the murder of his own mother. And Scotty and I had put our own serial killer case, the homeless murders, to rest before that.

  It was weird having two serial killers in a place as small and mostly picturesque as Haydon Cliff, but things like that had stopped surprising me long ago. Crime and evil were everywhere.

  I turned to the coffeemaker. Neither Scotty nor I could go five minutes without our required cup of joe. I got it going and opened the fridge to survey the contents.

  Scotty generally preferred eggs and toast to anything more involved, but since I was doing the cooking this morning, I decided to do waffles. I got the stuff I’d need from the fridge, then the waffle iron from the cabinet.

  I had already made three of them, which I kept warm in the oven, when Scotty trudged out, hair wet, fully dressed, and looking a little remorseful.

  I waved toward the coffeemaker. “It’s ready.”

  “Edgar.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I do love you.”

  I chuckled. I tried to make it warm. “I know. That’s why we’re getting married. Sit down when you’re done making your coffee and I’ll bring you a plate.”

  Scotty opened the cabinet and pulled out two mugs, one for each of us. He poured the hazelnut-smelling brew into the cups, then added half-and-half for each of us, and sugar into mine.

  When he was settled at the dining room table, I brought him a waffle, with butter and syrup. One for me, too. But I only used butter. Never cared for syrup.

  Scott’s gaze swept over the magazines and brochures I’d left on the table for planning purposes. But then he looked at me. “Edgar, I do trust you. I really don’t believe you’re going to go out and cheat on me.”

  “No?” I smiled to let him know I didn’t take it all that seriously. Because I didn’t. I knew Scott was loyal and true and eventually he would know I was, too. And it wasn’t like he was a screeching jealous shrew.

  “I do.” He sighed.

  “You’ve been hurt before,” I acknowledged. “I know. And when we first slept together, I didn’t act properly.”

  Scott snorted at that. “You mean right after we had sex, you got together with someone else.”

  “Not right after.”

  He smiled a little. “I just…are we crazy, Edgar? Trying to have the house and the white picket fence and all that like heterosexual couples? Some would think we aren’t capable.”

  “I don’t care what others think, Scotty. What do you think? What do you want?”

  Scott blushed and looked away, his gaze once more on the brochures. “LBGTQ friendly, huh?”

  “Of course. I’ve done my research on florists and caterers and bakeries.” I took his hand. “I don’t want any unpleasant surprises.”

  “Yeah. I want that fairytale, Edgar. The house and the picket fence and you as my husband.” He paused. “I want monogamy and support and in sickness and in health.”

  “With me.”

  His dimple in his cheek showed now. “With you.”

  * * * *

  “So…Ofelia is meeting us there,” Scott told me in the car as I backed out of our driveway.

  Ofelia was his sister and a nurse. Her and her husband, Ryan, had two children. Cute little kids.

  “Oh?”

  “I told her I was a little nervous about telling Mom, and she offered. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Why would I mind? I like your sister a lot and if it makes you feel better, it’s all good.” I patted his leg. “Are you going to have her stand next to you at our wedding?”

  “You mean as my best man?”

  “Or matron of honor, whatever. I don’t know all the proper terms and titles.”

  “No. I mean, I want her there and all. But I was thinking of asking Parker. Stop sign, Edgar.”

  I slammed on the brakes and winced. “Sorry. I was just a little…Frank Parker?”

  “You know any other Parkers, babe?”

  “Well. No.”

  “Look, Parker’s all right. I mean, yeah, he’s kind of an obnoxious practical joker, but he was really nice to me when I first started. And I guess I could ask Andy, because he’ll be my partner, but I don’t really know him that well, and you can’t be my best man for obvious reasons. And Parker is still…he treats me like a person.”

  “You are a person, Scotty.”

  “I know. But he’s never once said anything, you know, derogatory. About me or about you. He’s an ally, Edgar. Not saying he’s perfect, he’s probably still learning, but…”

  I blew out a long breath. “If you want to ask Frank Parker, then okay. But if he says ‘no,’ are you going to feel bad?”

  Scott shrugged. “A little. Sure. But I’ll get over it. Not everyone is going to feel comfortable standing up at a same-sex wedding. I’m not naïve, Edgar.”

  I nodded.

  He fell silent as I continued to drive toward the assisted living place, but then he eventually asked, “What about you? Are you going to ask Sean Callahan?”

  I laughed. “Get real. No way.”

  “Your sister Gloria?”

  “Nope. I was thinking of my cousin Bobby.”

  “Ah. Okay. Good.”

  My cousin was a patrolman on the force. A good kid.

  “Oh. Mom wants us to come to dinner. Speaking of family.” I glanced his way. “You in?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Chapter 4

  I didn’t know the whole story regarding Mrs. O’Hara. Scott and Ofelia had told me some and the rest I’d guessed. Scott’s mother had Alzheimer’s disease. Apparently she’d had it for a number of years and it was suspected that she’d had it quite a while before she’d even been diagnosed. Early Onset Alzheimer’s they called it.

  It was not the sort that usually was passed on through the family, according to Ofelia. She’d made sure I knew this early on when Scott had first introduced us after we’d started dating. I guessed so that, if we were serious, I wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing. I hadn’t told Scott about that conversation as I wasn’t sure his sister wanted him to know.

  In the end, it wouldn’t matter to me. I loved Scott and had every intention of honoring vows with regard to “in sickness and in health.” Neither of us had to worry about the “richer” part. And we had the “poor” part down pat.

  Ofelia waited for us outside the assisted living facility. She still wore her work scrubs and gave us a weary smile as we got out of the car.

  She hugged Scott, then me.

  “Hey, sister,” I greeted.

  She squeezed my hand and turned to Scotty. “It’s not a good day, sweetie.”

  He deflated instantly and I went to him, rubbing his back. “You saw her?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to check on her before you got here. I just finished a few minutes ago. She didn’t recognize me and got a little violent. The staff recommends you not tell her about the wedding today.” She glanced at me sympathetically, then back to him. “But you can make a quick visit with her, if you’d like. Since you came all this way.”

  The place wasn’t that far from us. Just in the next city over from Haydon Cliff, but yeah, I knew he’d want to. And for some reason, maybe being with him the time I had been, I knew he didn’t want me to go in with him.

  “Hey,” I said. “It’s okay. I’ll wait out here with your sister.”

  “Edgar,” he whispered. I could tell he was upset. Torn between wanting to protect me from her and wanting me near.

  “Cariño.” I put my hand on his jaw and kissed him softly. “I’m here. Whatever you want. Out here, in there. Up to you.”

  He nodded and blew out a breath. “Out here. I won’t be long.”

  I kissed him again, then let him go.

  Ofelia was watching me.

  “What?”

  She shrugged. “You’re good with him. He hasn’t always had it easy. Even before this, with Mom, she wouldn’t have ever made Mother of the Year.”

  “Parents do the best they can, whatever they are capable of.” I paused. “Some just aren’t capable of much.”

  “You said it.” She gave a derisive snort. “Anyway, she was a drunk a lot of the time and sometimes mean. He tries to overlook a lot of that. He wasn’t sold on you in the beginning and neither was I, but I’ve come around.”

  “So has he.”

  She grinned. “Apparently. I’m thrilled you’re getting married. Ryan, me, and the kids can’t wait. Have you decided on a honeymoon?”

  I blinked. “Shit. I didn’t even think about that. We’re going to have to talk about that, too. Where we want to go. How much we want to spend. Getting the time off from work. Ugh.”

  Ofelia laughed. “A lot goes into all that wedding stuff.”

  “Shut up, you’re making me think I should have listened to Scott and go to Vegas.”

  “There’s still time,” she said gently.

  “Nah, I’m doing this up right. We are. Once in a lifetime.”

  * * * *

  After Scott came out from the assisted living facility, his usual quiet contemplative self, we went to the nearest Starbucks with Ofelia for some coffee before heading back to the Cliff. He’d become quite a bit more talkative once we were chatting at a table.

  But now that I was driving us back, and to my own mother’s house, I asked him, “How’d it go? Was it awful?”

  Scott shrugged. “She didn’t really know me, like Ofelia said. She seemed to think I was a staff member. I let it slip about getting married, but she didn’t seem to hear and I didn’t repeat it.”

  “Sorry, honey.”

  “I know, but I was warned. And the truth is, I know she’s not going to get better. Only worse. She has good days still, but they’re far fewer than they were even before. I need to start accepting that she’s probably not going to be at our wedding.”

  “You think she’s that bad then?”

  “Probably. And I don’t want her disrupting things. Having her there in a pretty dress all calm and serene was probably just a pipe dream anyway.”

  “Hmm. Your sister brought up something today I hadn’t really thought about.”

  Scott gave me the side-eye. “Uh-oh. What?”

  “Our honeymoon.”

  He visibly relaxed. “Oh. Is that all? Babe, we don’t even have to have one.”

  “What? Of course we do. That’s what people do when they get married. Hawaii?”

  Scott shrugged. “Maybe. The thing is, we already live in a seaside town, right? So, I don’t know, maybe somewhere away from the beach?”

  I frowned. “Like where?”

  “Italy? France? Ireland?”

  “Europe? I don’t know.”

  “An Alaskan cruise.”

  I perked up at that. “A cruise, huh? Being pampered on board a ship, our every need seen to. That does sound pretty good. We could get a suite.”

  Scott laughed. “Edgar, we’re not made out of money.”

  “No. But we should make this all special.”

  “Marrying you is what makes it special, dummy.”

  I felt all warm inside, and to my surprise, I felt my face warm also. It didn’t happen a lot, that Scott could say something so romantic, but when he did, yeah.

  “You say the sweetest things,” I joked, making both of us laugh.

  “I’m serious, though. I don’t need all these bells and whistles, Edgar. I just want us to get married.”

  “Maybe you don’t need them, Scotty. But you deserve them. And okay, we don’t have to have a suite, but I want us to have something nice. Please?”

  Scott rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Fine. You win.”

  I whooped.

  “You always win.”

  Chapter 5

  I’d had so much on my mind lately involving Scott and our wedding, I’d almost forgotten Mama had invited us for dinner. When she had texted to remind me, it all came back to me, that when she mentioned it, I suspected she had some kind of ulterior motive.

  It turned out I was right.

  Oh, she was gracious and welcoming as usual. More to Scotty, who she absolutely loved, but she got us settled in the living room, bringing us glasses of wine, since she was aware we were on a wine kick after taking a long weekend to go wine-tasting recently, and giving us big smiles.

  “What do you want, Mama?”

  I had followed her into the kitchen when she’d excused herself to bring us some appetizers.

  “You didn’t leave Scott alone, did you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s a police officer. I am sure he can handle being there in the living room sipping wine by himself for a few minutes.”

  “The wine not to your liking?”

  “It’s fine.”

  She sniffed and leaned against the kitchen counter. “That wine guy…what are they called?”

  “Sommelier.”

  She nodded. “He assured me it was quite good.”

  “Mama, the wine is great. Stop stalling.”

  “Well. Good. Because I think I want to order some for your wedding.”

  I stared at her.

  She grabbed my arm and brought me to the back door. “Picture it.”

  “Who are you, Sofia from The Golden Girls? Picture what?”

  “Your wedding to Scott in our backyard. I know from your sister that you’ve been looking at expensive venues.”

  I shrugged. “Not all of them are expensive.”

  It was true, though, that I had checked into some out of our price range. The Gardens of Haydon Cliff came to mind. It was a place you could walk garden paths and see all kinds of flora and fauna native to the state and Haydon Cliff and they also did weddings. For thousands of dollars.

  But there were also places like the local Moose Lodge that would be a bit less.

  Mama swept out her hand across the glass. “Sure, sure. But most of them are. And all of them require a fee, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “We can rent one of those wedding arches. Decorate it with flowers. Tiny little white roses or something. Gloria and I can go to the flower market for those, so you save some expense with a florist for that. Your sister has found a party rental place that rents the arches as well as chairs for the ceremony, then tables and chairs for a sit-down dinner. Much cheaper than one of those fancy venues you’d have to go into debt for. And this venue costs nothing.”

  “Even if I said ‘okay,’ there’s still setup, a caterer, a bar…”

  “We can buy beer and wine ourselves at one of those warehouses. The caterer, yes, you’ll have to get someone for that.”

  “But, Mama.” I frowned. “I didn’t want to nickel-and-dime this. This is my wedding. My only one. Don’t I want to do it, right?”

  “It will be right. This isn’t nickel-and-diming. It’s being wise. Then you save your money for your honeymoon to Hawaii…”

  “We’re going to go on an Alaskan cruise.”

  She shrugged. “That then. And for other expenses, like life. You rent tuxes. We all wear nice dresses, but nothing crazy. I don’t want to look like a magenta tulip.”

  That made me laugh because I could completely picture that.

  “I’d have to see what Scotty says.”

  “Scotty says that sounds great to him.”

  We both turned to see him standing a few feet from us, holding his half-drank glass of wine, raising both eyebrows.

  “Yeah?”

  “Definitely. Edgar, I’ve been the one saying let’s make it simple. I’ve never needed the big venue and the fancy trappings. What your mom is talking about sounds completely perfect to me.”

  “Hmm. What about music?”

  “My friend Suzy’s son is in a mariachi band,” Mama said, “and she thinks he’d give us a good rate.”

  “Mariachi?” I asked dubiously. “Scott might not—”

  “I like the idea,” he interrupted.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re just agreeing to everything. You get a say in this, babe. This is your wedding, too.”

  “I know. But I’ve said all along, all that matters is marrying you. The rest is, pardon the pun, icing on the cake.”

  I put my arm around his waist, kissing him.

  “Yeah, the cake. And Mama, you and Gloria aren’t going to make one in your kitchen.”