Bound For Murder Read Free Page A

love for the printed word as well as the digital. The luck of the draw.”
    “And a talent for choosing the right girl, too,” said Gabby, obviously pleased at the fine catch her cousin had made. She put a hand on Carmela’s arm and lowered her voice. “Your place cards are gorgeous,” she said. “Thank you.”
    “My pleasure,” said Carmela. She’d put them out earlier according to Wren and Gabby’s seating chart.
    Gabby laid a hand across her heart and ducked her head. “You’ve done so much, Carmela,” she said, her dark eyes filled with gratitude. “Designing the wedding invitations, the place cards tonight, helping Wren and Jamie with tons of arrangements . . .”
    “How can we possibly thank you?” bubbled Wren.
    “Just have a lovely wedding Saturday night and live happily ever after,” said Carmela. After all, she decided, isn’t that what wedded bliss is really all about? Is hopefully all about?
    Carmela smiled at Jamie as he listened attentively to Wren and Gabby chit-chat back and forth. She decided that Jamie seemed like a nice enough guy, acted like a nice enough guy. Of course, the true test lay ahead. Could Jamie Redmond, this good looking, dripping-with-charm bookseller, put away his bachelor habits? Could he slip his old ways into his sock drawer without a single twinge of regret and settle down to a nice, long monogamous relationship?
    Carmela shook her head to clear it. Of course he could. What was she thinking? It was Shamus, her husband, who’d been unable to succumb to a full-time commitment. Shamus, her adorable husband who swore he loved her, but still craved freedom. Who claimed they were soul mates, yet continued to sling barbed arrows into her heart. Ava had lectured her sternly about proceeding full steam ahead on a divorce, and she was probably right. Still . . .
    Gazing across the crowded room, Carmela caught sight of Quigg Brevard, the owner of Bon Tiempe. Darkly handsome and oh-so-suave, Quigg made no bones about the fact that he was interested in Carmela.
    But am I interested in him? she wondered. Yes. And No. Yes, because Quigg is charming and courtly and talks a good game about honesty and relationships. And no, because somewhere, in the dark recess of my aching heart, I still believe Shamus and I might find our way back to each other.
    “Honey,” said Ava, coming up behind her, “that man is about as subtle as a Zubaz track suit.”
    “You’re talking about Blaine Taylor?” asked Carmela, slightly amused by Ava’s apparent discomfiture. “Old B.T.?”
    “We shall henceforth refer to him as Mr. Calamari,” snapped Ava. “The man is a veritable octopus . Had his grabby little hands all over my sweet little bod. Didn’t wait for an invitation or nothin’.” Ava smoothed her dress, managing to look both pleased and outraged. “Can’t say I care for a man who doesn’t wait for my say-so.”
    “You don’t think your come-hither dress and springloaded bra aren’t the next best thing to an engraved invitation?” asked Carmela. Dressed in her skin-tight gold dress, Ava had caught the roving eye of nearly every man in the joint.
    Ava grinned widely. “Sure, I dress to advertise my assets. But what’s a girl supposed to do? Skulk around like a nun? Wear skirts below her knees?”
    Carmela had to choke back a chuckle. For Ava Grieux, whose bursting clothes closet looked like something a drag queen would kill for, there was no middle ground. Dress like a meek Carmelite or boldly strut your stuff. That was it.
    Ava nudged Carmela as her eyes roamed the room. “Monsieur restaurateur is gazing your way,” she said in a coy voice.
    Carmela glanced over toward Quigg Brevard again. Even though he was deep in conversation with one of his high-hatted chefs, he was indeed looking in her direction. Smiling at her, in fact. Carmela waggled her fingers at Quigg in greeting and he waggled fingers back.
    “Now that’s the man you should be involved with,” whispered Ava.