“I don’t know. Does spending five nights a week together count as serious?”
Bek grimaces. “Uh. As in evenings, or hubba-hubba nights?”
“Hubba-hubba nights.” I can’t help it. I grin.
The man has a GPS that gives him a shortcut to my G-spot, and let’s just say that Little Miss G is loving the visitor. For a part of my body that should be used to tourists, she was neglected in previous months.
Thankfully, Detective Nash and his skillful usage of his cock has rectified that. Swiftly.
“I’m gonna say you’re in the honeymoon phase just so you don’t freak out on me.”
“Thank you. You get me,” I say, sipping my coffee.
“Yeah, but it also means that, if you piss me off, I can throw out the big guns.” She winks. “Don’t forget you’re helping me stalk my guy in a couple hours, so don’t run off.”
“Hey, bitch. I’m the boss here!”
She pauses at my door, turns, and blows me a kiss. “Love you.”
“Whatever.”
I think I need to bleach my eyes.
“Well, that closes that case,” Bek sputters. “They didn’t even make it into the hotel!”
“No shit.” I swipe my finger under my eye to wipe away the lingering moisture from our giggle fest. “You see that shit? It was attraction at its finest. They were like opposite poles snapping together.”
She shudders, starting her engine. Then she passes me her camera. “It’s vile! It’s his wife I feel sorry for. She’s pregnant and she’s gonna lose her shit.”
I purse my lips. The pregnant wives are the worst, on account of their hormones. Thankfully, most of the time, their husbands really are faithful and just organizing a surprise—where we refuse to disclose all the details—or are working super hard to give their family a financial boost. But the times where they aren’t… Let’s just say we’ve called the paramedics more than once since Bond P.I. has been in business.
Still, I commiserate with Bekah. She’s the one who has to deliver the information, after all. I may sign off and authorize all of their cases, but when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, it’s up to them. I deal with my clients. It isn’t too much to ask them to deal with theirs.
Bek drives us back to the office, and I head straight for my car after saying goodbye. It’s better for my sanity if I get this conversation with Nonna over and done with.
Oh my fuck. I have to meet the parrot, too. Holy fuckballs. What if the colorful rat sides with her?
Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it’s gonna side with Nonna.
Shit. Clearly, I can be swayed by the desperation of my future sister-in-law. I’ve really gotta get a handle on that crap. This should be Devin having this conversation, not me.
That thought hits right as I pull up behind Mom’s car on the drive. I take a deep breath, apprehension coiling in my lower stomach, and get out of my car. This feeling always hits whenever I get to my parents’ place, but today, it’s particularly strong. I know that Nonna will play the innocent card and make everything a lot harder.
I walk across the front yard, and a loud squawk rings in my ears. My heart stops for a brief second, and I bite my tongue. That thing is loud. How are Mom and Dad coping with that?
I knock on the front door twice before I push it open.
“Ye cruel wench! Ye vile wench! Cazzo! Cazzo!”
Nice to meet you, too, Gio.
“Hello,” I call hesitantly, closing the door behind me.
“Aye! Ye bloody wench!”
“Oh, shut up, you little shit!” Mom yells.
I walk into the front room in time to see her cover the offending bird’s cage with a bedsheet.
“Wench! Wench!” Gio squawks from beneath the black sheet.
Mom smacks the cage. “I’ll wench your beak real soon!”
Oy vey. Things have sure gotten violent in the Bond family home.
Nonna shuffles into the front room and, upon seeing Gio covered, gasps. “Kellie, you-a let-a him go-a!”
Mom snorts. “Believe me, Liliana. If I could imprison the little shit, I would! My curtains are ruined!”
I glance at the window. There’s a giant rip in one of the drapes. The ones she bought two weeks ago.
Nonna gasps and rushes across the room, her cane nothing more than a steadying tool. “Gio!” she exhales, whipping the sheet off. “You-a okay?”
The concern on her face is comical. Oh, Nonna.
“Vile wench! Vile wench!” Gio shrills, violently flapping his bright-green wings. “Kellie, ye vile wench!”
I squint. Doesn’t seem like Gio’s conversational skills are up to much unless he’s going to hop on the Black Pearl.
“Hello?” I try again, stepping fully into the front room.
Nonna is leaning forward, cooing at the parrot, and ignores me. Mom turns, her nostrils flaring.
She’s mad.
“Nonna, do you know you can hear that thing halfway down the street?” I inquire.
“He is-a no thing,” Nonna murmurs. “He is-a Gio!”
Yeah, whatever.
Gio’s wings flap again, and Nonna stands. Two beady, black eyes focus on me, and it’s surprisingly uncomfortable. A high-pitched noise that sounds awfully like a whistle emits from the cage, and I blink harshly.
“Did he just—”
Gio interrupts me with a loud, unmistakable wolf whistle.
Holy shit. The parrot just wolf-whistled at me.
What the hell?
“Hot wench!” Gio shrieks, his pure-black eyes still on me. Then he flies to the corner of his cage and grabs a bar with his feet. “Hot wench!” Another wolf whistle.
“Uh. Nonna? Why is your parrot hitting on me?” I look between the bird and my grandmother.
“He has-a good taste.” She sniffs, unaffected.
“Yeah, that’s great, but he’s looking at me like I’m a cracker and Polly wants it!” I’ve never been so scared of a bird in my life.
“Hot wench!”
Mom grabs the sheet and throws it over the cage again, much to Gio’s displeasure. “I can’t stand the damn thing,” she snaps, storming into the kitchen.
I see I came at a good time.
Nonna waits until Mom is fully out of view before uncovering the bird again. Jesus, he’s gonna have a misconstrued idea of night and day if they keep that up.
“Is-a okay, Gio,” Nonna coos once again, poking her wrinkled finger through the bars.
My eyebrows shoot up, but Gio lovingly rubs the side of his head against her fingertip.
Ooookay. Just when I thought my family couldn’t get any crazier.
“Something-a wrong?” Nonna asks me, sitting on the chair next to the cage.
I eye the creature suspiciously and make my way to the sofa. “Actually, I need to talk to you.”
Gio whistles at me again. Wow. He really is repetitive, huh?
“About the wedding. Devin’s wedding,” I add hurriedly when her eyes light up.
She doesn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “Ah. I see-a. Well?”
Oh God. How do I put this without offending her? Wait. I don’t think I can. I could bundle this in all kinds of Bubble Wrap and it just won’t go down well. Okay. Here goes.
“Amelia came to see me this morning—”
“Aha! She has-a listened about-a the dress?”
“No…”
“She is-a okay-a with-a the menu?”
“Not exactly…”
“She want-a the—”
“She wants you to stop, Nonna!” So that’s a little harsher than I planned. I bite down on the inside of my bottom lip and continue. “She’s overwhelmed. They weren’t planning on a summer wedding. More like…a spring one. At the earliest.”
Nonna waves her hand. “Si, si. It is-a a lot-a to organize! It is-a why she has-a me!”
“She doesn’t want you to organize it. She wants to organize it. In her own time. Like normal people with normal families do.”