The Taking (41 page)

Maybe she’d like cannons, poverty, and runaway inflation in her wedding as well.

The doorbell rang, praise the Lord. Suzanne had nothing to say at the moment, which was damn near a first for her.

But how in the hell could she slap her name and wedding planning reputation behind a Civil War-theme wedding? She’d be stuck doing theme weddings for the next decade, and everyone who knew her was aware that her well of patience wasn’t very deep.

“I’ll get that. Excuse me just a sec, Nikki.”

Suzanne hustled to the door and opened it. She blinked to see Elec and Evan Monroe, Ty McCordle, and right in front, her gorgeous and annoying ex-husband, Ryder Jefferson.

“Hey guys, what’s up? I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

“We’re here for the wedding planning thing,” Ty told her.

Oh, no. That meant that Nikki’s fiance Jonas had asked them...

“We’re the groomsmen.”

Damn. Just what she needed. None of them would listen or take her seriously. She’d lose control of the whole situation.

Ryder brushed past her, dropping a soft kiss on her cheek, his familiar cologne wafting up her nostrils and acting like a sexual trigger. She smelled Ryder and her nipples got hard. They were just trained that way.

“Good to see you, babe. And lucky me, I’m the best man in this wedding.”

Suzanne fought the urge to grimace. Good God, this fiasco just got more and more ludicrous. Now she was going to have to spend a fair amount of time around Ryder for the next month, and she just couldn’t deal with that on top of all her worrying about her future. He made her crazy, plain and simple.

And there was no way this best man was sitting on her lap.

Ryder handed her a manila envelope. “Oh, and this came addressed to both of us. It’s from our divorce lawyer.”

Suzanne looked at it blankly. It did have their divorce attorney’s name on the envelope, and it was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Ryder and Suzanne Jefferson. Ouch. It had been a long time since she’d seen her name linked with his, and damn it, it still hurt, which pissed her off. It didn’t matter anymore, shouldn’t matter. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t open it. Figured you’d want it.” He moved past her and the other guys did likewise.

Jonas Strickland was coming up her walk and there was a gaggle of Nikki clones behind him, women in their early twenties, tanned and thin and indistinguishable from one another except for the color of their various sweaters. There was red and yellow and aqua and two in white.

“Hi, come on in. I’m Suzanne,” she said absently. “Nikki’s in the dining room.”

Curiosity killing her, Suzanne ripped open the envelope as she walked behind them, their giggles and chatter a buzzing backdrop. There was a pile of papers that looked like their divorce decree. Okay. She read the cover letter from the lawyer.

And stopped halfway down her hallway, the words blurring in front of her.

Oh. My. God.

She was going to kill Ryder. She was going to rip his arm off and beat him with the bloody stump.

This paper was telling her she and Ryder were not divorced.

They were still married.

“Ryder!” she screamed, aware that her voice sounded like a fair approximation of a banshee.

Everyone in the room looked up at her.

“You know,” Nikki said. “I had a thought. I’m blonde.”

Elec laughed and Ty elbowed him.

“What?” Suzanne looked at the twit in front of her and didn’t bother to hide her irritation.

“I can’t do a
Gone With the Wind
theme. Scarlett O’Hara was a brunette.” Nikki pointed to her head. “And I’m blonde.”

Jesus. “Good point,” Suzanne managed to say. “Now would you all excuse Ryder and me for just one teensy minute?”

Ryder gave her an uneasy look, and the guys looked curious, but she didn’t care. She had to discuss this with him immediately before her head exploded off her shoulders.

“What’s up, babe?” he asked her, moving in really close to her, his hand landing on the small of her back as he guided her into the next room. “If we’re going to fight, maybe we should be out of earshot.”

Suzanne got two feet into her kitchen, but then couldn’t hold back. She whirled and smacked the envelope and stack of papers against his chest. “This says we’re still married!”

Ryder’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit? Does that mean we can have guilt-free sex then?”

Oh, yeah. She was going to kill him.

National bestselling author
Erin McCarthy
has written more than two dozen sassy, sexy tales of contemporary and paranormal romance, including the popular Vegas Vampires novels. Erin also writes paranormal young adult novels under the name Erin Lynn. Visit her website at
www.erinmccarthy.net
.

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