Thugs and Kisses Read Online Free PDF Page B

to Greg? To anyone? Forget legendary male commitment phobia—my own inability to commit was sharp enough to put an eye out.
    “I do,” I said again with conviction.
    “Funny way you have of showing it,” Zee said.
    “Shit or get off the pot, Odelia,” Seth added.
    “Seth!” scolded his wife.
    “I mean it, Zee.” He paused. “Odelia, girl, you know I love you, so I’ll say it straight. Greg Stevens is a great guy. He deserves to be treated better. You are not being fair to him or to Dev Frye.”
    On my end of the phone, I was starting to tear up. What Seth was saying was true, but I had already decided to marry Greg. I just hadn’t told anyone. But if that was true, why had I taken Dev to the reunion? Was it just to prove to everyone I could get a date? Was it to prove something to Donny Oliver? Donny, who was now dead.
    The conversation was getting out of control. I didn’t want to think about how I had screwed up. Better to get back to the dead body, the one I didn’t kill.
    “Dev said he was only shot once,” I said into the phone. “Donny Oliver, I mean, not Dev. Once in the chest.”
    There was silence on the other end. Either the Washingtons were mulling over this information or they were rolling their eyes at each other about my quick change of subject. I’d bet the scrambled eggs and sausage in my dream it was the latter.
    I was about to bridge the silence with another tidbit of police information when my call waiting sounded. I told Seth and Zee to hold on and clicked over with the flash button to answer the other call. As soon as I had, I wished I hadn’t.
    “It’s me,” said a flat voice.
    I hesitated just long enough to take a deep breath. The Washingtons were the least of my worries.
    “Good morning, Greg,” I said with forced cheerfulness.
    Silence. Another mine exploded, this one silent but more deadly than the others.
    “How are you feeling, sweetie?” I asked, praying he hadn’t read or heard the news.
    “The question is, Odelia, how are you feeling?” He wheezed and sniffed. “Especially after last night. Seems your reunion was a real killer.”
    Ouch.
    “Why don’t I get dressed and come on over, Greg?” I continued with the forced cheery tone. “I’ll stop and pick up some fresh bagels on the way.”
    “No need. I’m in front of your place right now.” His voice was still flat, and I knew it wasn’t just because of his cold. And it wasn’t lost on me that not once had he called me his usual sweetheart . Not a good sign.
    “Why don’t you just come in? You have a key.”
    There was pregnant pause. Not a first-trimester pause but a full-blown eight-and-a-half-month hesitation.
    “We need to talk, Odelia.”
    No good conversation ever starts with the words we need to talk , especially when that statement comes from a significant other.
    As soon as Greg hung up, I clicked the call waiting back to Zee and Seth and told them that Greg was here and I’d call them later in the day.
    Zee told me she’d be praying for us.
    Seth advised me not to blow it.

I jumped out of bed and made a dash for the bathroom. By the time I had brushed my teeth and hair, I heard Greg entering downstairs, soon followed by an awkward galloping sound as Wainwright, his enthusiastic golden retriever, bounded up the stairs to greet me. After receiving hugs and kisses from me, the dog bounced into the bedroom, where he found Seamus once again back on the bed.
    When Greg and I started dating, Wainwright had fallen in love with Seamus immediately. The affection, however, was not returned, and there had been several one-sided battles between the friendly dog and the irascible feline. Now they get along fine, though I suspect it’s more tolerance on the side of Seamus than warm fuzzy feelings. When I returned to my bedroom, Wainwright was standing with his front paws on the bed, licking Seamus’s ears. The cat withstood the slobbering with stoic patience.
    I was about to head downstairs when I