Drop Dead Sexy

I grinned. “Thank you.”

Motown and I walked along the side of Catcher’s stretcher. “I’m probably going to get a plaque for this,” Catcher remarked.

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Considering I was wounded in the line of fire taking down a notorious drug dealer and his thugs.”

“If you get honored by the bureau, I will be sitting in the front row, taking pictures and cheering you on.”

Catcher beamed. “So it’s a date, huh?”

“Yep. It’s a date.”

I had a feeling it was going to be one of many dates I would have with Catcher. Our future seemed bright.





As the organ music struck up the familiar chords of Here Comes the Bride, I sucked in a deep breath and tried to once again still my out-of-control nerves. The last thing I needed was to face-plant while walking up the aisle. Today was my big day—the one I’d waited what felt like a lifetime for.

My wedding day.

Allen offered me his arm. “Ready, sis?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He gave me a warm smile. “You’ve been ready for this for years. You’ve been through hell to get here, and you deserve all the happiness in the world. This is your time to shine.”

I blinked a few times at him in disbelief. When had my baby brother become so wise and supportive of both matrimony and me? “Oh Allen,” I murmured.

“Now quit bitching and get your ass down the aisle,” he commanded.

Laughter bubbled from my lips. “That sounds more like you.”

Since I couldn’t have my father walk me down the aisle, I had asked Allen. He had seemed touched in the moment, but then when it came to tuxedo fittings and other wedding oriented events, he had pissed and moaned.

The wedding coordinator waved her hand furiously at us like, “Let’s get the show on the road.”

After sliding my arm through Allen’s, I took one last calming breath before taking a step forward. The double doors to the First Baptist’s sanctuary swung open while every head in the house whirled around to catch a glimpse of me in my strapless ivory gown with the beaded, satin bodice and fluffy toile bottom. A glittering tiara held my long, flowing veil in place. It cascaded over my shoulders to lie against my long train.

Although I could feel every eye on me, there was only one particular pair I was interested in. A set of ocean-blue, bedroom eyes. The ones that belonged to my future husband.

When I saw him, I momentarily faltered in my march down the aisle. God, he looked so gorgeous in his tux. Like James Bond. Instead of his signature drop-dead-sexy smile, he wore an expression of absolute awe. It was the look every bride hopes and prays she sees on her groom’s face. The one that makes you fall in love with him all over again.

I pushed myself forward, wanting nothing more than to get to Catcher—my future husband. It was still hard for me to think I had finally found the one. The one who completed me and all that jazz. The truth was Catcher did more than complete me. He brought out the best in me. He challenged me to be the best person I possibly could. He didn’t want me to conform to what society’s ideas were about what a woman should be personally and professionally.

But better than that was the fact he embraced all the worst in me—my insecurities, my sometimes klutzy moments, my embarrassing sex past, my years of datelessness. For some reason, he was attracted to every part of me—the good, the bad, and the ugly. When I hoped and prayed for someone to love, I couldn’t have imagined the good fortune I would be getting.

As I made my trek down the aisle, I took in the faces of those standing in the pews. The church was packed with our friends and family. There were those I’d known since childhood, those from my career like Ralph and Todd and Earl, and those I had met with Catcher like Patricia Crandall, who thankfully had on a beautiful pink suit, rather than her birthday suit, and Olive and Jewell. Of course, Jill was absent from the pews because she was my matron of honor—yes, I had finally received that call that she and Chase were getting remarried in Vegas. Since I had a matron of honor, I had made Molly my maid of honor.