Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(108)
Author: Laurelin Paige

“Not a word.”

“Goddammit. How do I roll down the window?” I began searching for the button to lower the privacy screen but stopped when I caught sight of JC’s ear-to-ear grin.

Then I forgot all about what Drew said or didn’t and what JC had known and hadn’t, because I’d been the one who’d gotten to tell him, and that was pretty special. And from the look on his face, he was beyond thrilled.

“It’s really mine?” he asked, his voice tentative.

I laced my hands around his neck. “Yes, you fool. I told you it was all along.” But I was smiling too because he was so happy, and really, I was too.

“I didn’t want to believe it. I was afraid I’d get my hopes up.” He wrapped his arm around my neck and drew me into him. “I meant it when I said I’d love her either way. But I’m so fucking glad this baby is mine.”

“Me too. So glad.”

He kissed me, his tongue dipping in between my lips, his eyes locked on mine. “I love you, Gwen,” he murmured in between kisses. “I love you so much.”

I got lost in his embrace, my mouth molding easily to his, my body pressing into him while he kept a protective hand splayed across my belly.

“I hate to interrupt you two back there…” We jumped apart at the sound of Drew’s voice over the intercom speaker. “But we have a change in travel plans.”

JC stretched across me and hit a button on the door. Immediately the window between the front and back descended. Oh, that’s where that was.

“What change?” JC asked, his voice tinged with nervousness, and I wondered if that would be our life now—always jittery, always on edge.

Drew shifted so he was facing us. “Just got a phone call informing me that Greg Thompson, Steve Stockbridge’s lover, pulled a gun on Ralphio Mennezzo in a restaurant earlier this afternoon. Shot him three times in the head before turning the weapon on himself. Both of them were pronounced dead at the scene.”

We sat quiet for several seconds while Drew’s words settled around us.

“Gwen!” JC exclaimed.

I blinked. “Steve Stockbridge’s lover killed him out of revenge?”

Drew nodded.

“And we don’t have to go into hiding? We’re safe?”

“Unless you have some other enemies I’m not aware of, yeah.” Drew grinned. “You’re good.”

I squealed then hugged JC so tightly, forgetting about his wound, that he winced. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy.”

“I barely even noticed. Is it incredibly wrong to celebrate when two people are dead?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m fully willing to be wrong if you are.”

“If we’re doing it together, it has to be all right.” His gaze lingered on me for a moment before turning his attention back to Drew. “Is it possible to get this car headed back toward Columbus Circle? We have a reception to attend.”

“Already on our way.”

***

Our friends harassed us when we finally arrived at The Sky Launch, suggesting we’d been late because we couldn’t wait for the honeymoon. We didn’t tell anyone the real reason we’d been delayed or that Mennezzo had been killed. Though JC and I were ecstatic to finally be free of him, the world would find out soon enough, and we had enough to celebrate without focusing on him.

The rest of the night was spent being happier than I could ever remember being. Ben and Laynie gave toasts, and Norma snuck me a glass of non-alcoholic champagne so I could participate. After a delicious dinner catered by our new chef, we cut the cake. JC was kind with the bite he fed me. Me, not so much. I smeared his face in buttercream and regretted nothing.

We separated for a while so we could mingle with our guests accordingly. “Chandler told me to send you both his regards,” Laynie told me when she had me alone. “I hope that’s not strange to bring him up, but he really wanted me to tell you he thought it was best that he didn’t attend.”

“I understand completely. It was probably a wise decision.”

“Congratulations,” Hudson said, joining us. He slipped an arm around his wife. “I hear there’s more than one reason to celebrate.”

There were several, but I knew he was referring to my pregnancy.

“H,” Laynie chided, “that’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Marriages don’t have secrets,” he explained. “At least not the good ones.”

“And ours is pretty damn good,” Laynie said, lifting her chin up to kiss him.

I feigned disgust, covering my eyes. “Ah, get a room.” I leaned in and lowered my voice. “I hear the bubble rooms are a spectacular place to get it on.”