A GRAND AFFAIR
Joe ushered me to the SUV. He held the door open and I got in. He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. I saw a woman watching us from the window of her two-story duplex. Joe was about to get into the car when two police cruisers came speeding down the street, sirens blaring and lights flashing. They blocked Joe from moving the car. I guess the nosey old lady called the cops when she saw Joe jump the curb. The officer in the car in front jumped out of his cruiser and walked toward Joe. I recognized him immediately. It was Brian Simon, original owner of Bob.
While Brian spoke to Joe, the officer from the cruiser behind us walked to my side of the vehicle and tapped on my door. I rolled down the window. I didn't know this officer. He was very young. Young usually meant cocky.
"Miss, are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. We had an argument and I got mad. I needed to walk. Joe just wanted to apologize."
"Well, he shouldn't be pulling up onto the sidewalk. That's reckless driving."
"He's a cop," I explained.
The officer stood up and addressed Brian across the hood of the SUV. "He's a cop?"
"Yeah, Joe Morelli and you are talking to the Burg's famous Stephanie Plum."
"Holy shit!" He leaned back into the car. "I heard you got shot protecting a Rangeman employee."
"I was wearing a vest."
"I just want to say I'd take you on my team anytime."
"Thank you."
Joe plunked down into the driver's seat. "Can we go now?" Joe asked obviously annoyed with the situation.
"Absolutely, Officer Morelli. You take care of this little girl."
"Yeah, I'll do that," he scowled.
The officer backed away from the window and headed back to his cruiser. I rolled the window up. "Joe, you didn't have to be so rude."
"Did you see that? The guy just met you, and he's already got a crush on you!"
"No, he doesn't. He was just being nice."
"It's God damned embarrassing being pulled over for domestic abuse," he growled.
"Well, you were pretty pissed off when you got out of the car. Are you planning on going there again? Maybe I should get out now."
"No," he said in a calm voice.
I leaned across the console. "Can I get a kiss?"
Joe leaned in and gave me a quick peck. The officer behind us was still parked.
"More," I demanded.
"Can I get off the sidewalk before someone else comes along and tickets me?"
"Sure, if we die in a tragic accident on the way home, I hope you're okay with turning me down."
Joe growled. He placed his hand on my face and gave me another kiss. This one lasted about ten seconds and included tongue.
I smiled at him. "Thank you."
Carl was already gone. Joe started the car and pulled into the street. The officer behind us pulled out as well and followed us to the end of the street. We turned left toward home and the cruiser turned right.
"I'll never live this down at the precinct," he lamented.
I tried to put a positive spin on it. "Maybe you'll get a few more guys to place bets on the wedding."
"Lately, I'm almost tempted to bet against myself."
"Why? Do you think I would stand you up?"
"Yes!—no!—I don't know what to think anymore."
I was hurt by his answer. I stared out the window at the row houses with their neat postage stamp lawns.
"Steph, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
I continued to stare out the window. I didn't want to fight, but it seemed as though Joe was still angry. Joe pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. He reached over and grabbed my hand. I pulled it away and opened the door. I quickly angled my way out of the SUV. Joe caught up to me as I reached the steps.
"Let me put Bob in the back yard."
I didn't answer him.
Joe climbed the steps and opened the front door. Bob tried to scramble past Joe, but he snagged him and dragged him back into the house. I, in turn, climbed the steps and entered the house. Joe was out back with Bob. I was depressed and tired. I hated fighting with Joe. I dragged myself up the stairs. The first thing I noticed was the gaping hole in the spare room door. I entered the bedroom and unzipped my jacket. I let it slide off of my arms to the floor and I plopped on the bed. I crawled under the covers.
"Steph?" I heard Joe call out from downstairs. "Stephanie?" he called again. I heard him sprint up the stairs and into the bedroom. "Stephanie, what are you doing?"
"I don't feel good," I muttered.
"Is it because you're still mad at me?"
"No," I lied.
Joe sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers back exposing my upper body. "What if I let you call me snookums?"
I couldn't help but smile at the thought of calling Officer Joe Morelli, hard-nosed Italian stallion, snookums. "Would you really let me call you snookums?"
"Hell, no! But I got you to smile, didn't I?" He brushed his fingers lightly across my lips. "You know, yesterday you said you were frisky. What can I do to get you in the mood?"
"Take your clothes off," I said adamantly.
Joe rolled off the bed and immediately began to peel his clothes off. When he was naked, he dove onto the bed.
"Get up," I ordered.
"Steph, a little persuasive action might help," he replied.
"I meant stand up."
"What?" He was clearly confused.
"Get off the bed!"
"Why?"
"Just do it!"
He rubbed his hands together. Are you gonna suck my dick?"
"Maybe." I hadn't planned on it, but it wasn't a bad idea. I loved Joe's dick. Joe sprang off the bed. "Now get into your cop stance."
"My what?"
"You know your cop stance. Put your hands on your hips and rest all your weight on that foot."
He grinned. "You mean like this?" He struck the pose that he always did whenever he scrutinized something.
"Oh, yeah. That's it."
He raised an eyebrow. "You find this sexy?"
"Hell, yes. That's the pose that got me behind the cannoli case."
"So, does this work with clothes on?"
"Either way."
"Good to know."
I climbed out of the bed. "Do you want my services clothes on or off?" I asked as I stood in front of him.
"Clothes off. That way there's no interruption when it's my turn to please you."
Joe helped me remove my sweater and my bra. Of course, he kissed and caressed my breasts before I lowered myself to my knees. By now, Joe was semi-hard. I began to lick him like an ice-cream cone and his hard-on reached full strength in less than a minute. I went to work on him allowing his dick to slide into my mouth slowly. Joe was very verbal in his assessment of my actions. I had been afraid that it would be difficult to use my left hand, but surprisingly, it wasn't. I knew Joe was getting close when he grabbed my head and began to drive it home. Besides being deep throated against my will, he was pulling me off balance and regaining that balance meant using my shoulders. Using my shoulders meant pain.
"Joe, stop!" I mumbled as best I could considering I had a mouth full of dick. I slapped him in the thighs as I said it. He released my head and I fell backwards onto my ass.
"I'm sorry. I guess I got carried away."
"Ya think?"
He knelt down next to me. "It just felt so good."
"It's not that I didn't enjoy doing it, but…"
"I understand. Why don't you lie down on the bed and let me administer a little first aid."
"That sounds like a plan to me." I was expecting the full treatment. Joe helped me up and onto the bed.
"I'll be right back," he said softly as he kissed the tip of my nose.
"Where are you going?"
"To get the Tylenol, of course." And just like that, he was gone. He returned a minute later with a couple of pills and a glass of water. "Here you go."
I made a face. "This isn't what I had in mind."
"No?"
"No!" I put on a pouty face.
"Here, lie back." He leaned over and kissed me. "It's good to see that you've managed to keep your ring almost a whole twenty-four hours."
"I told you, I'm never taking it off."
He kissed me again. His kiss was gentle and his tongue moved slowly in a circle around mine. "Is this better?"
"A little," I said coyly.
He kissed me below the ear on my right side and then moved carefully over the bruise at the break in my collarbone. He kissed it gently and then kissed my neck on the left side. My nipples stood at attention.
"How about now?"
"That's pretty nice."
He moved to my breasts using both hands to caress them. He sucked on each nipple before moving to my belly. It was here that he did something unexpected. He spoke, but he wasn't speaking to me.
"Hey, princess. How are you doin' in there? Soon, me and your mommy will get to see our first pictures of you. I can't wait."
I felt nervous. "You think they'll do a sonogram?"
"Your sister told me it's routine now on the first visit."
"Wow."
He went back to speaking to the baby. "Now, be a good girl and let me make mommy happy." He kissed my belly and continued to go lower until he parted my legs by caressing my thighs and gently pulling them apart. Joe was never one to disappoint and today was no different. A shiver ran up my belly to my breasts. I placed my feet on his shoulders. Joe used one finger to tease me as he continued to tickle me with his tongue. I wanted so badly for him to ram his fingers into me, but he wouldn't. He continued to tease the opening to my vagina with that one finger, I started to squirm, lifting my hips in hopes he would respond, but he wouldn't take the bait. Finally, he shoved one finger into me as he sucked on my clit, and I gasped from the sensation that rushed through my body. I could feel my body preparing to orgasm. Yes, yes, YES! I gripped the blanket with my hands and my body tightened. I breathed out a long, low moan drinking in the pure exhilaration it produced.
Then as suddenly as the climax came, I became over stimulated and like a child who was being viciously tickled, I pushed with me feet. Joe almost fell off the bottom of the bed. "Stop!" I giggled. Joe got up on his knees. His hard-on was raging. He parted my legs again and crawled over me.
"You like that?" He was proud of his accomplishment.
"I like everything about you, Joe Morelli."
"Good. I hope you'll like this." He slowly pushed his way into me. "Tell me if I hurt you."
"It feels good," I whispered.
"I meant your collarbone."
"Oh."
He leaned forward and kissed me. I can't say there was no pain, but since he hadn't had an orgasm and I did, I thought the pain was bearable for his sake. Ten minutes later, Joe finally released the tension and fury he had been holding inside. His body spasmed and he threw his head back like a great lion and roared his accomplishment. I giggled because I was happy, for both of us. He lay on the bed next to me and kissed me on the cheek. "Are you okay?"
"I'm awesome."
"Do you know the only time we don't fight is when we are having sex?"
"Then maybe as soon as you feel your temperature rising, we should have sex."
"I'm up for that," he replied enthusiastically.
I touched his now defunct erection. "Um—no—you're not."
"I'm not mad at you right now," he said in his defense.
"So what if you don't get mad at me? Then, what?"
Joe made a face at me. "Seriously?" He leaned in and kissed me briefly on the lips. "How would you like to go out to eat?"
"Now, you're speaking my language, loverboy."
"Loverboy—really?"
"No?"
Joe shook his head. "No."
"It'll come to me."
"Cupcake, I've been in your life for almost five years. If it hasn't come to you by now, it's not going to come."
"Then I'll just have to call you snookums."
He shook his head as he pulled his boxers on. "You know, I'm not really taking you out to eat. We have an appointment at Grand Affair at four o'clock. They have several events tonight, so we can go and sample some of the hors d'oeuvres and main courses they are preparing today."
"That sounds like fun!"
"You want to work on the guest list until then?"
"Sure."
Joe and I spent the rest of the afternoon filling out the envelopes for the invitations we were sending. In many cases we had to call the person invited to get their address. Most of the people on Joe's mom's list were invited. Joe only nixed a few he said he really didn't know. My mom called and invited us for Sunday dinner and we accepted figuring we'd have plenty to report on the wedding after our trip to Grand Affair.
I'm not sure if it was the sex that relaxed me or if I was healing, but the pain was not nearly as bad as it had been for the last few days.
We had seventy invitations completed by the time we had to leave for The Grand Affair. Tomorrow, we would have to finish the rest of the invitations. We arrived for our appointment a few minutes early.
We were assigned a wedding planner. His name was Peter. I noticed another couple speaking to their planner. They were dressed nicely. He was wearing a suit without the tie and she was wearing a dress with low heels. Joe and I were both in jeans. He was wearing a V-neck knit top and I was wearing a sweater. I was wearing sneakers and Joe was wearing hiking boots. Peter finally appeared. He was wearing grey dress pants and a European cut dress shirt with a mauve tie. He looked to be in his late twenties and his hair was full and brushed back behind his ears. He spoke with a fake English accent and he was flamboyant. It didn't bother me, but I could tell that Joe was bit uncomfortable. Joe was as homophobic as they come. The only reason he put up with Sally's alternative dress was because he knew that in reality, Sally was as straight as he was. Peter was cute in a feminine sort of way. One look at his eyebrows reminded me that I needed to get mine done. Even his nails looked better than mine. Note to self: go to the nail salon and get the full treatment—TOMORROW!
Peter gave us the once over and then introduced himself. He sounded just a little disappointed that he didn't get the nicely dressed couple. First, he showed us the room we would be using. It sat up to two hundred and fifty people. We were sending out one hundred invitations. Worst case scenario, we would have 200 people at the wedding. I shuddered at the thought.
The room was large with three huge amber-colored crystal chandeliers. Peter informed us that we had to make choices on the linen, dinnerware, and flatware. He said they also had several florists that they worked with. They even had a house band who just happened to be playing for a wedding tonight.
"What do you think?" Joe asked.
"I thought we were going to go with a D.J."
"It couldn't hurt to check them out," Joe pointed out.
Peter suggested we go home and change after we finished our food tasting and menu selection. He said he would put us on the observe list, which meant we could sit on the outskirts of the room and observe the band for an hour.
We chose the linen and the plates and the silverware pretty quickly. One thing about Joe and I, we had very similar tastes. I chuckled at the thought that if it had been me and Ranger, he'd be going for black. We chose plates with large champagne colored flowers in the center and gold edges. We chose black table clothes criss-crossed over a muted gold. The silverware was also gold in color. I envisioned my centerpieces in my mind.
"Joe. I know what the centerpieces will look like. I wanted cylindrical glass with gardenias and black branches and strands of fake pearls running through it." It was difficult to describe, but Joe could see that I was getting excited about the wedding.
"You can get whatever you want."
"Maybe I'll go to Michael's and see if I can make it myself."
"Sounds like you've got plans for Monday. See, you won't even miss working."
"That's one day, Joe, besides I have my doctor's appointment, remember?"
"Right. We get to see the baby." He smiled.
Peter returned to us and handed us brochures on photographers and florists. Then he took us to the kitchen. "This is where our chefs create," he said as he led us past several stoves each emitting a different and yet enchanting smell. I was starving. I saw a tray filled with a smorgasbord of appetizers. I was hoping it was for us. Peter led us to a small private dining room. He advised us to sit next to each other to make it easier to read the diagram. One of the kitchen staff appeared carrying the exact tray I had been ogling. Peter placed the diagram he mentioned on the table. It listed the items on the tray in the exact spots that they had been placed, like the inside of a chocolate box, only it was hand written. He handed each of us a card that listed all of the hors d'oeuvres.
Peter suggested that we start at twelve o'clock on the tray and work our way clockwise. The items not on the tray were crossed off on the cards. There were sixteen different foods on the tray. He instructed us to each make notes on the card and to compare the results afterwards.
"Would like a glass of our house wine? It is a fabulous merlot."
"Got any beer?" Joe asked.
"No," he said rather curtly.
Joe shot me a quick look. "Sure, I'll have a glass. Stephanie won't be drinking alcohol."
Peter looked like someone shoved a stick up his ass. He looked down his nose at me like I was a recovering alcoholic. "Coca cola?" he asked still using the fake accent.
"Diet, please."
He walked out of the room. Joe and I burst out laughing.
"He's kidding, right?" Joe asked.
"I guess he takes his position seriously."
Joe laughed even harder. "Position—oh that's rich."
"Stop it! He's going to come back."
"Okay, let's just concentrate on the food. He said to start with this. It says on the diagram that it is spinach and feta stuffed mushroom caps, topped with parmesan cheese."
We each picked up a mushroom cap and bit into it.
"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, still chewing. "This is delicious!"
"So write it down," Joe instructed.
Peter came back with the drinks. He also brought water.
"You should cleanse your palate between each serving. It will help bring out the true flavor of the food." Now the English accent was gone, replaced with a French accent.
"What happened to your English accent?" Joe asked.
"I am European. I have many accents," he replied.
Oh, boy. I kicked Joe under the table, and he reeled in the smile that was fighting to break free.
"The mushroom caps were fabulous!" I said trying to break the tension.
"Oui, that is one of our most popular dishes."
"I can see why."
"I will leave you now. I have another couple that I am meeting with. I shall return in thirty minutes, oui?"
"Oui," Joe replied with a huge smile.
He again left the room and Joe couldn't hold back the laughter. He actually had tears in his eyes—he was laughing so hard. I tried my hardest to reel him in. Since we were sitting next to each other, I did the one thing that I knew would bring him back to reality. I grabbed his package.
He jumped. "Hey!"
Well that got his attention. "Can you please focus on the reason we're here?"
"Well not when you're grabbing my dick! Don't worry. I'll take care of you when we get home."
"I just wanted you to stop laughing at our wedding planner."
"Come on, Steph. Can that guy be any more fake? He's probably not even gay."
"Oh, he's gay all right."
Joe took his wallet out of his back pocket and set it on the table. Then, he retrieved his shield from his coat and pinned it to his wallet.
"Joe, what are you doing?"
"Let's see how stuck up he is now."
"Joe, be nice."
"Hey, I'm always nice—especially when she's pretty."
"You mean like Anarosa."
Joe picked up the second item off the tray. "This looks good."
"You deliberately ignored me."
"Because I love you. Now taste this." He held the spring roll up for me to taste. I bit into it. It was good, but it didn't measure up to the mushroom caps.
"This is okay, but we can only choose three, right?"
"I think we get four if we choose the most expensive menu."
"Joe, don't you think that's a little extravagant?"
"I only plan to get married once."
"Well, technically, you're getting married twice. You're just marrying the same woman both times."
"I'd marry you ten times, if that's what it takes to keep you."
"Awwwww!" I leaned over and kissed him.
"Okay, so no to number two."
"Right."
We continued to try each appetizer. The ones we liked we marked and the ones we didn't like we crossed off. In the end there were seven left, and we couldn't decide which ones we liked.
Peter entered the room and his eyes immediately focused on the police badge.
"So how are we all doing?" His accent was clearly Jersey.
"We can't decide," I lamented.
"Okay, how many are you down to?"
"Seven," Joe replied.
"Let me see your card and I'll see if I can get a second helping. Usually, a second taste helps in the decision making."
"Well, that would be real nice of you," Joe said with a smile.
"Anything for Trenton's finest."
Joe shot me a look and then looked back at Peter. "I'll take another glass of wine while you're at it."
"You're not on duty, right?" Peter asked.
Joe looked him dead in the eyes. "Sweetheart, I'm homicide. I'm always on duty." Peter nodded and picked up the tray. Then he turned and sashayed away.
"Joseph, you called him sweetheart."
"And?"
"You're killing me."
"No, I'm not. I'm killing him—with kindness. You told me to be nice."
I rolled my eyes.
Joe took my hand in his. "I'm enjoying myself."
"I see that. I guess I should plan on driving home."
"Steph, I've only had one glass of wine."
"I know. I just don't want you to feel like you have to stop enjoying yourself."
"Cupcake, I'm enjoying myself because I'm with you."
"You want sex again tonight, don't you?"
"Am I that transparent?"
Peter returned with the tray of appetizers before I could answer him.
"I managed to get them all. I'll bring your wine in a minute. Would you like another diet coke?"
"You know what. Nix the wine. I'll take a sprite if you've got it."
"Very good," Peter replied before he left the room.
I looked at Joe. "Thank you."
Joe and I tasted our second round and we finally agreed on four after Joe talked me into going for the expensive menu. As much as I loved sweets, I thought having a chocolate waterfall and wedding cake was a bit much. I still wasn't completely sold on the Gala menu.
"Are we ready for the main courses?"
"Absolutely," Joe replied.
"I've got most of your choices here. I couldn't get the lasagna or the roasted pork, but I have the other six. You can choose three for the Gala menu."
It was surprisingly easy for us to choose. We were in agreement on two of them. The third was a toss up.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart. You choose."
"Really?"
"Promise."
I took a deep breath. "Okay, I think we should stick with the two entrees we agreed upon and cut back one of the hors d'oeuvres and go for the Fiesta menu. It will save us eight hundred dollars especially if we end up inviting two hundred people."
"Now, see? That's why I love you."
"I thought it was because I'm good in bed."
"Nah, that's just a plus."
We made some hard decisions and completed our menu. It looked like this:
Joseph and Stephanie's Wedding Menu
Hors d'oeuvres
Spinach and Feta Stuffed Mushroom Caps topped with Parmesan Cheese
Crispy Asparagus with Asiago and Fontina Cheese wrapped & baked in Puff Pastry
Citrus seared Rosemary Scallops on Bamboo Skewers
Winter Salad with Apples and White Cheddar
Chicken Scaloppini with Lemon Butter Linguini
Sliced Tenderloin of Beef with Port Wine Shallot Sauce
Roasted Red Potatoes
Whole Green Beans with Slivered Almonds
Fresh Baked Flaky Croissants
Wedding Cake
We arrived home and I felt like a stuffed chicken. Joe pulled me into his arms.
"Are you ready for bed?" His eyes got dark. He kissed me and I went into a daze. Mmmmmmm, I thought to myself. Dessert.
Suddenly, Joe's phone began to ring.
"Fuck!"
"Don't answer it," I pleaded.
"I have to."
Joe picked up the phone. "Yeah?"… "No."… "I tagged it."… "Look in the box marked Huyler Street, victim number three."… "Sure. I'll be in at eight."… "Thanks, man." Joe hung up.
"You don't have to go in?" I asked, hoping I was right.
"No, not till the morning." Joe began to dial a number on his phone.
"Who are you calling?"
"Your buddy, Cal."
"Why?"
"I'm not leaving you here alone. Did you know when you took off on me today, I saw a burgundy corvette pass us when Brian was talking to me?"
"You don't think…"
"That's exactly what I think." Joe began to speak into the phone. "Hey, Cal. If you get this message, call me. I have to go to work in the morning for a few hours and I don't want to leave Stephanie alone. If I don't hear from you, then I guess I'll drop her at her mother's." He hung up and pushed the phone into his pocket. "Now, where were we?"
"Um, you were going to make me a very happy girl."
"Right."
Needless to say, we never did make it back to see the band at Grand Affair.