Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 03 - Secrets at Sea Read Online Free Page A

know. But remember what happened the last time she came barking at me.” Tom put down the suitcase he carried.
    I cringed. “Oh yeah, the black eye.”
    “Yeah,” he smiled. “I don’t think it would look good in our cruise pictures.”
    I smiled. “That’s true. Coming to bed, love?”
    “Of course.” He started to unbutton his shirt. My heart skipped a beat at the first glimpse of the hair on his chest and broad shoulders. He stopped and asked, “Where’d you put the lockbox I left here?”
    “It’s under my bed.”
    Tom retrieved the box and locked his guns inside, one from his shoulder holster and the other from his anklet. I didn’t grow up with guns and never thought I’d ever fall in love with someone who always carried two.
    Would they let you bring them on a cruise? I wondered. I doubted it. “Where are you leaving your guns while we’re gone?”
    “You know I never go anywhere without my guns. I’m taking them with me.”
    “To Mexico.”
    He frowned. “Okay, I’ll leave my Glock here, but I’m not going anywhere without my ankle piece.”
    He placed the guns in the lockbox and pushed it back under my bed, finished undressing, and climbed into bed.
    I moved toward him and he wrapped his arms around me. His face brushed softly against my back. He worked his way up and kissed my neck. “Thanks for inviting me on your vacation, honey.”
    I turned around and kissed him, long and hard. One thing led to another, as it usually did with Tom. Afterwards, we lay in each other’s arms. It was so nice, Tom’s breathing slow and steady on my neck. He always fell asleep quickly and easily. I, on the other hand, always lay in bed for a long time before I fell asleep, rehashing the day’s events or a lesson I’d taught or planned to teach the next day. Tonight I thought about the cruise and Adam’s and my parents’ deaths. They probably had nothing to do with each other. But at least I would be spending a week on a cruise ship with Tom. My mom and dad had always enjoyed themselves. Maybe we’d make it our yearly tradition, too.
    The next morning, Saturday, I woke up to the most wonderful smell, Tom cooking breakfast. I lay in bed and reveled in the bacon, eggs, and waffle aroma. Did I even have those in my refrigerator?
    I wrapped myself in my robe and strolled into the kitchen. Tom looked showered and dressed, and I could see his little ankle gun bulging under his pants’ cuff. He whistled and fried bacon.
    “Good morning, honey.”
    “Good morning, love,” I leaned in and gave him a big kiss. As I did I reached around him and stole a piece of bacon.
    He frowned at me. “Tricky.”
    “I try.” I pointed to the eggs. “I had that stuff in my refrigerator?”
    “No,” he shook his head. “I brought it with me. You never have anything good in your refrigerator.”
    “I do too,” I said.
    “Oh yeah, I found a pizza box, four Chinese food containers, and cheese covered with some hideous smelling fuzz.”
    “I had Chinese Chicken Salad in there, earlier.”
    “What happened to it?”
    “I ate it.”
    “How many times?”
    “Just twice.”
    Tom shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone else who makes something and then eats it until it’s all gone. No one else would eat it twice in a row.”
    “If it was good once, then it’s good twice.”
    “Most people eat something else in between.”
    “Well,” I huffed. “I’m not most people.”
    He reached around my waist and pulled me toward him. “And I’m grateful you have your own way of doing things, honey.” He kissed me on the nose.
    “Nice sidestep.”
    “I do the best I can.” He smiled and pointed toward the kitchen table. “Have a seat and I’ll bring your breakfast.”
    “Oh.” I winked at him. “I love to be waited on, especially by someone as cute as you.”
    “Just get over there and sit down.”
    “I’m going, I’m going.” I sat down and Tom brought me a plate with two waffles, two eggs over easy, and