Murder Has a Sweet Tooth Read online

Page 21


  Even if the cake was bigger than I thought it was going to be.

  I hardly had a moment to think about it. Our guests urged us to cut the cake, Marc put on an appropriately upbeat song, and, hand in hand, Jim and I approached the cake table.

  “It’s wonderful,” he said. “Like you, Annie.”

  “It’s perfect,” I agreed.

  And it all was. There was nothing in the whole wide world that could ruin that moment or that day.

  Even when Doc popped out of the cake.

  “LIFE IS GOOD.” MY HEAD ON JIM’S SHOULDER, I stood on the walkway that led up to his house—our house—and enjoyed the moment. “Everyone was so nice. And they all seemed to have a good time.”

  “It was the best wedding ever. Of that, I’m certain. And now . . .” He stepped in front of me so that we were face-to-face and I don’t think I was imagining it: Jim looked a little nervous. He ran his tongue over his lips. “I think there are some formalities. I’m supposed to carry you up the steps and into the house and over the threshold, yes?”

  I laughed, took hold of his hand, and pulled him toward the house. “Oh, no. I need you to save your energy!” Side by side, we raced up the steps together.

  “And you . . .” Jim unlocked the door and pushed it open. “You can finally get a look at your home.”

  Now I was feeling nervous. I took a deep breath and stepped into the living room for my first look at the work Jim had planned and Alex had carried out.

  My breath caught, and I smiled, twirling all around for a better view. “It’s wonderful!” I said. “No more cabbage roses! No more red walls! It’s all wonderfully, beautifully beige!”

  And sure, I knew it before, but this sealed the deal: From that moment forward, my happily-ever-after was official.