CHAPTER ONE
JULY
After leaving the police station we headed back to Braden’s place. As he turned the key in the door to his apartment, I heard rapid click click click sounds followed by a whoosh and then a thud and a scrambling scratching, sounding not unlike a small dog trying to peel himself off a wall. Bruno still hadn’t mastered those hardwood floors. When Braden swung the door open, Bruno was waiting there to greet us as if nothing had happened. He gave us a happy yip and wagged his tail so hard that it almost shook his little Chihuahua butt off.
I reached down to pick him up and give him some attention, walking over to the large windows overlooking Rittenhouse Square. I loved the way that those windows made the place feel warm and open during the day and at night provided a breathtaking view of the twinkling city lights. It was a hot, clear sunny day in Philadelphia and the Square was filled with people walking, playing, reading … and what was that guy doing? Okay, I didn’t see that and it was not going to be stuck in my head all night. I moved away from the windows. Braden had tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and gone into the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.
“So, Bruno, did you guard the place for Mommy and Daddy?” He looked up at me and panted with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I took that as a “yes.” Actually, I took it more as a “do you really need to ask?” I knew that while the world may have seen him as an itty bitty ankle biter dog, Bruno saw himself as a ferocious killer.
I wandered around the apartment that would eventually become my place too, stopping to look again at the pictures hanging on Braden’s wall, the Harvard Crew he rowed with, Braden with Adam and Mark at Georgetown Law, Braden with his family in Martha’s Vineyard, and finally, the most recent addition, Braden looking debonair in his tux and me not looking too shabby in my gown at his family’s fundraiser last month. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy. I had made “the wall.”
I went over and sat down on the soft leather couch and settled Bruno on my lap, where he promptly flipped over with a not terribly subtle hint that he wanted a belly rub. I obliged. What could I say? The dog had grown on me.
Braden came out of the bedroom looking as good as always. Just to let you know, that was pretty damned good. You know how Phoenix was hot but the tropics were hotter? Well, Braden was like the planet Mercury. Not everybody could rock khaki shorts and an old Phillies T-shirt like he could. He was like a big, blonde, blue-eyed, Norse god. Notice I didn’t say Greek God by the way. Have you ever seen a statue of a Greek God? Well, trust me, there was nothing on Braden that a fig leaf could cover.
He sat down next to Bruno and me and took out his cell. First he called Adam, who as it turned out, was with Mark, who as it turned out, was with Cameron. They were watching baseball and drinking beer together at a local sports bar. I guess they were warming up. We had decided that despite some pretty wacky events the night before, Sunday Game Night was officially on.
We still didn’t know who had sent me a couple of anonymous notes that seemed aimed at getting me to leave Braden, but we had decided that even though we would be cautious, we were going to go on with our lives as usual anyway. Of course that meant I was probably going to have to talk my father out of borrowing some Navy SEALS to guard me and hiring someone from the Louvre to install a burglar alarm in my apartment. Dad could be a little protective. After hanging up with Adam, Braden checked his voicemail and found a message from his own parents.
“My mom said that she and my dad are going to be in D.C. this weekend. They’ll be home Sunday at noon. And Beth is visiting friends until Sunday morning. Drew will be here all weekend though. She suggested that we spend time at their place with him. We can hang out by the pool and there’s a music festival in town on Saturday.”
“That sounds fun. Are we going to tell them about our plans when they get home?”
“Probably not yet,” he said, getting up and heading toward the kitchen.
I started to get a little nervous. I hadn’t even completely gotten used to the idea of dating Braden, let alone marrying him. Not only was he gorgeous, he was so sexy. He had this way of looking at me that always gave me the proverbial butterflies in my tummy. His eyes would get darker and he would get this cocky grin on his face like he knew a hundred and one ways to make me see God. I called it his “hot Braden sex look” and it made my panties melt because I knew what he was thinking about when he looked at me like that. Actually being in bed with him was almost like an out-of-body experience except, believe me, you didn’t want to leave your body if you were in bed with Braden.
Even more important than all that gorgeous sexy, though, he was also strong, well-grounded, confident, compassionate and intelligent. Best of all we were amazingly compatible. From the very beginning we just clicked and it was like we belonged together. We spent our evenings talking about books, history, politics, law, and a million other things. Then we would cuddle up and watch shows on PBS that would make us popular with the geriatric crowd down at the senior center. Even though we argued passionately in court sometimes, we rarely argued privately. We discussed things and we usually saw eye to eye. The only tense point between us was the potential risk that was inherent in our respective jobs. We loved each other so much that the thought of anyone threatening the other was devastating.
As I was saying, though, his answer made me a little nervous because it still kind of blew my mind that this man who I had fantasized about for months, and never expected to even date, actually wanted to marry me. I had pretty good self-esteem and I was decently self-confident, but facts were facts. I could be pretty eccentric and rather awkward at times. I made corny jokes and odd observations. I was the queen of too much information. I was uncoordinated and could manage to trip while standing in place. I had some unconventional ideas and my life often resembled an episode of I Love Lucy. Let’s just say that I was an acquired taste. Luckily, it seemed that Braden had acquired me, so I wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to let his parents know that he had proposed the night before.
“Why don’t you want to tell them?” I asked hesitantly, putting Bruno down and then getting up and following along after him.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to tell them,” he answered over his shoulder. “But I’d like to ask you properly and give you a ring first. I’m not sure I’ll have time to do that before they get home.” He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, offering it to me. I shook my head and he opened it and took a big swig himself.