Read Online Shakespeare's Christmas by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online Page A

happy. So did Dad. Dill was beaming like a fool at his bride. Berry raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt my mouth twitch in response.
    “That went well!” Patsy Green called from the back of the church. She began walking toward us, and we all turned to listen to her comments. I wasn’t at all surprised it had fallen into place, since almost everyone in the party was old enough to have played a role in a score of weddings and been a major participant in a daunting number.
    My attention drifted, and I began looking around the church, the one I’d attended every Sunday as a child. The walls always seemed newly painted a brilliant white, and the carpet was always replaced with the same deep green as the cushions on the pews. The high ceiling always made me think up —space, infinity, the omnipotent unknown.
    I heard a little cough and brought my gaze down from the infinite to stare into the pews. Someone was in the shadows at the back of the church. My heart started pounding in an uncomfortable way. Before I had formed a thought, I began to walk down the steps and the long strip of green carpet. I didn’t even feel my feet moving.
    He stood up and moved to the door.
    At the moment I reached him, he opened the door for me, and we stepped out into the cold night. In one move, he pulled me to him and kissed me.
    “Jack,” I said when I could breathe, “Jack.”
    My hands went under his suit coat to touch his back through his striped shirt.
    He kissed me again. His hands tightened on me, pressed me harder against his body.
    “Glad to see me,” I observed after a while. My breathing was not even.
    “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.
    I pulled away a little to look at him. “You’re wearing a tie.”
    “I knew you’d be dressed up. I had to look as nice as you.”
    “You a psychic detective?”
    “Just a damn good one.”
    “Umhum. What are you doing in Bartley?”
    “You don’t think I’m here just to see you?”
    “No.”
    “You’re almost wrong.”
    “Almost?” I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
    “Yes, ma’am. Last week, I was clearing off my desk so I could come down here to lend you some moral support—or maybe morale support—when I got a call from an old friend of mine.”
    “And?”
    “Can I tell you later? Say, at my motel room?”
    “That was your car I saw! How long have you been here?” For a moment I wondered if Jack had revealed his presence just because he’d figured I’d identify his car sooner or later, in a town the size of Bartley.
    “Since yesterday. Later? God, you look good,” he said, and his mouth traveled down my neck. His fingers pulled the scarf away from my neck. Despite the cold, I began to have that warmth that meant I was just as glad to see him, especially after the horrors of the day.
    “OK, I’ll come by to hear your story, but it’ll have to be after the rehearsal dinner,” I said firmly. I gasped a second later. “No, Jack. This is my sister’s wedding. This is a have-to.”
    “I admire a woman who sticks to her principles.” His voice was low and rough.
    “Will you come in and meet my family?”
    “That’s why I’m wearing the suit.”
    I looked up at him with some suspicion. Jack is a little older than I am and four inches taller. In the security lights of the church parking lot, I could see that he had his black hair brushed back into a neat ponytail, as usual. He has a beautiful thin, prominent nose, and his lips are thin and sculpted. Jack used to be a Memphis policeman, until he left the force after his involvement in an unsavory and bloody scandal.
    He’s got lips, he knows how to use ’em, I thought, almost intoxicated by his presence. Only Jack could get me in the mood to paraphrase an old ZZ Top song.
    “Let’s go do the right thing, before I try something here in the parking lot,” he suggested.
    I stared at him and turned to walk back in the church. Somehow, I expected him to vanish between the door and the altar, but he followed