“Do you have something to wear yet? Or have you had time to shop in between shoot-outs and running for your life?”

I shook my head too. I wondered how Luke was going to feel about shopping tomorrow. I was pretty certain Luke wouldn’t be too happy about that. Furthermore, according to Luke Rules, I was not to be anywhere that I couldn’t see him or wasn’t close enough to touch him. That meant Luke would have to sit in the dressing room with me.

Shit, shit, shit.

I shoved the thought aside, deciding to worry about it later and looked to Annette. “We’l go shopping tomorrow.”

“Fuck that,” Tod cut in. “You’re shopping at The House of Burgundy. Tomorrow night.” Tod glared at Indy. “They’re coming to the Wedding Summit, after that, we’l get everyone situated with party outfits. Do not even argue, we have to have a meeting of the minds about this pink and ivory business.”

“It’s my wedding, Tod,” Indy pointed out.

“Girlie, you think I’ve been supplying you with champagne, shoes and accessories for the last God knows for how many years for my health? ” Tod snapped. “It’s payback time.”

“Oh dear,” Jet said.

Annette laughed.

Daisy emitted a tinkly giggle.

I sent Indy a commiserating look. She didn’t catch my look; she was glaring at Tod.

I figured Luke would probably like the Wedding Summit slash Drag Queen Closet Trawl a hel uva lot less than shopping.

For the first time that day, I smiled.

The bel over the door went and we al turned to see who it was.

Luke was standing there.

“Oh my,” Tod whispered. “I think I just creamed my pants.”

“Tel me about it,” Annette agreed.

“Dinner,” Luke declared in Luke Speak.

“Gotta go,” I said, grabbing my purse.

“We’re meeting at Smithie’s, nine o’clock,” Jet cal ed after me.

I nodded to her, waved at everyone and stopped in front of Luke. “I’m ready,” I told him.

He did a ful body scan.

Then he did his sexy half-grin.

Then I heard some noises that sounded like moans behind me.

Then Luke wrapped his fingers around my elbow and propel ed me to the door.

“Wear something sparkly!” Daisy yel ed as the door swung closed.

Shit, but I was in trouble.

Chapter Nineteen

Denver Men Are Men

Luke took me to Lincoln’s Road House (clearly the Nightingale Investigation Team hang out) for dinner, where not surprisingly, he didn’t say much

Also not surprisingly, I babbled on enough for the both of us.

Then he took me to Indy’s to get Hank’s key.

She was in a bit of a dither about the evening’s dress code as demanded by Daisy, and loathe to ask Tod for another loaner for fear her Tangerine and Chocolate Wedding would turn into an even bigger nightmare.

We spent half an hour sorting through Indy’s closet and drawers for something “sparkly” for her to wear. We’d almost cracked it when Luke walked in.

Without a word, he grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the house to the company black Explorer.

Guess he was done waiting.

* * * * *

I, on the other hand, did not have trouble with sparkle. I was the Sparkle Queen. At Hank’s, I washed my face and put on Drama Night Makeup; heavy on the charcoal eye shadow and black kohl eye liner, dark raspberry lipstick on lined lips and glitter dust on my col arbone and shoulders.

I wore a black top that was tight across the midriff and bosom, loose around the waist. The thin sleeves and low, scooped neckline were designed to look torn, not finished.

One sleeve fit over my shoulder, the other one fel off by design. The torn bits were adorned here and there with glittery jet beads, a hint of sparkle. I put on a pair of tailored, slightly tight, wide-leg, low-rider, black trousers with a sharp crease. The trousers had a thick line of black beading al the way around my upper hips. I wore a bunch of spangly, thin black bracelets and dangly jet earring. I put my hair up in a messy knot, secured with bobby pins on the ends of which were baby, black rhinestones and I let lots of tendrils float down. I finished off with a spritz of Boucheron.

I walked out of the bathroom, al done up, to see Luke’s long, lean body stretched out on Hank’s bed, his hands crossed behind his head, eyes closed.

Shamus was sprawled and asleep beside him.

“Good God,” I whispered.

His eyes opened, his head turned and he did a slow body scan.

Then his lids lowered to half-mast. “Fuck,” he murmured low.

I pul ed myself sternly into recovery.

“You ready?” I asked.

His eyes went to my feet. “You aren’t wearing shoes.”

“Damn! I knew I forgot something, hang on.” I ran to the weight room slash junk room and tore through boxes and suitcases until I found what I wanted.

I walked into the living room carrying my shoes, a little red suede bag and wrap. Into the bag I transferred the necessities, running back to the bathroom for lipstick, lip liner and extra sparkle powder for emergency re-application, and put in credit cards, money, phone and the VIP passes Jet gave me.

I sat on a couch and slid on one of my (four) pairs of sexy, Jimmy Choo shoes (online auction, brand new, nearly ful retail price but worth every penny). These were pumps, pointed, red suede toe and matching suede four-inch spiked heel, the body of the shoe was red snakeskin.

The shoes were hot.

I settled a red pashmina around my shoulders, flipping an end around my neck.

Luke was standing at the door.

“Ready,” I said.

Luke didn’t move.

Then he asked, “You know what I said in the store today?”

“You said a lot in the store,” I told him. He hadn’t said a lot of words, but al of them had a lot of meaning.

“The last part.”

My eyes got big and I nodded.

“I was f**kin’ with you,” he told me.

I let out a breath. “I thought so,” I said.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

I wasn’t keeping up with him. He wasn’t exactly going fast but I stil wasn’t keeping up with him.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve decided I wasn’t f**kin’ with you.”

Holy Mary, Mother of God.

“Are you flirting with me in Hank’s living room?”

“I don’t flirt.”

I crossed my arms on my chest. “Seems like flirting to me.”

“Flirtin’ is me tel in’ you that you have pretty eyes. I’m not tel in’ you that. I’m tel in’ you, it doesn’t work with Hank, I want you in my bed. That isn’t flirtin’.”