Wicked Delight

  Wicked Delight

  An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book Thirteen

  Lily Harper Hart

  HarperHart Publications

  Copyright © 2019 by Lily Harper Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  One

  Jack Harker was a happy man.

  He’d known it for some time, recognized the signs.

  The first was the smile he couldn’t seem to shake, especially when his fiancée Ivy Morgan was around. As a former Detroit police officer, he never found much reason to smile in his previous life. Playing witness to the worst things humanity had to throw around wasn’t a happy matter. Things only got worse when he was shot by his own partner and almost died. He recovered physically, although it was a fight. He never thought he would recover mentally, which is why he left the city and headed to the country.

  His first day on the job in Shadow Lake had been a doozy. That’s when he met Ivy, barefoot at a crime scene because she’d discovered a body in the ditch in front of her house. He smiled at the memory as Ivy fussed over a picnic basket a few feet away, oblivious to his deep thoughts. They’d argued from the start. He didn’t realize it at the time, but it was because she pushed buttons on him he no longer knew he had.

  It didn’t take long for them to realize they were attracted to each other, and in a desperate way. Seemingly, they were both answers to questions the other didn’t know needed asking. They fell in love, moved in together, and Jack proposed over Christmas. Now it was spring and they were happily planning their wedding over a picnic in the park, the first they’d shared since an early date that went terribly wrong.

  “What are you thinking?” Ivy asked, her eyes conflicted as she stared at Jack. She’d finally realized he was in his own little world and she was officially worried.

  “I think you’re the prettiest woman in the world,” Jack replied without hesitation, smiling indulgently as he slid a strand of Ivy’s pink-streaked hair behind her ear.

  “Ugh.” Ivy rolled her eyes. She was a pragmatic woman — sometimes too pragmatic — and she often groaned when Jack said something romantic even though he knew she secretly liked it. Only on rare occasions would she admit that she enjoyed the schmaltz, and only if it was a conversation between the two of them. If her brother Max happened to be around, she pretended otherwise. “I know you weren’t thinking that.”

  “I happen to think that on a daily basis,” Jack countered, leaning back on his elbows, crossing his feet at the ankles, and regarding the woman he couldn’t wait to make his wife with an expression that bordered on impish. “It’s spring,” he noted after a beat.

  “I know.”

  “We met in the spring.”

  “It was closer to summer,” she corrected.

  She had a need to be right, which amused Jack to no end. “We’re not far from summer. In fact, I believe we’re only a week from the official start of summer.”

  Ivy paused as she mentally checked the calendar in her head. “Huh. I didn’t think about that. You’re right, though. It is almost summer. Wow. Do you know what that means?”

  Jack had no idea what topic she was winding her way around. He loved the way her mind worked, though. “No, what?”

  “It means we met a little over a year ago.”

  “I know. I was just thinking about that.” He bolted upright, snagged her by the waist and wrestled her to the blanket so he could plant kisses against her sensitive neck. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

  She snickered. “You did not. You thought I was a pain in your keister.”

  “I might have thought that,” he acknowledged. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t want you.”

  “You fought it.”

  He pulled back far enough to meet her gaze. “So did you.”

  “Yes, well ... I had a reputation to uphold. I couldn’t date a cop. How would that look?” She gasped out a laugh when he started tickling her ribs, causing her to squirm on the blanket. “Stop it! This is undignified.”

  “I don’t care.” Jack felt free in Shadow Lake, a small town in northern Lower Michigan. He grew up a city boy and never thought he would leave. Then he moved to the country to heal ... and fell in love. Now he knew he would never return. Shadow Lake had everything he wanted, including Ivy. “I love you, Ivy Morgan.”

  Her eyes stormed with emotion for a brief moment before she regained control of her faculties. “I love you, Jack Harker.”

  He planted a lingering kiss on her lips before allowing her to sit. “What’s in the picnic basket?”

  “Food,” she replied without hesitation. “I made sandwiches, potato salad, and cookies.”

  “Nice.” He meant it. Even though she was a vegetarian, Ivy was a tremendous cook. The only thing he didn’t like was her morel fascination — a mushroom that was popular in Michigan during the late spring weeks — but they’d come to a meeting of the minds on that. He didn’t get involved when she wanted to pick them and she didn’t press him on eating them.

  “You’re okay, right?” Ivy asked, her eyes serious.

  He smiled at her, genuinely amused. “Last time I checked, I’m fine. Is there a reason why I wouldn’t be?”

  “Well ... .” Ivy broke off, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Tell me, honey,” Jack prodded, grabbing her hand when she moved to drag it through her hair. Thanks to the wind, it looked a bit wild today, the waves falling past her shoulders and making for a tousled look that he found ridiculously appealing. He had no doubt what they’d be doing after their picnic.

  “This is where it happened,” Ivy said finally, opting to get to the heart of matters. “It was essentially our second date and you freaked out and broke up with me. I just wondered if you were having residual guilt about that.”

  Jack sighed as he brushed his fingers over her cheek. She made her own lotions from the ingredients she grew at her plant nursery, a business she’d taken the afternoon off from so they could spend time together on his day off. He always loved the way her skin felt ... and smelled ... and looked. He knew exactly what she was talking about, though, and he very much doubted they would be able to enjoy their afternoon without discussing it.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted after a beat. “I remember being here that day. I was upset when you were shot ... and the memory still upsets me. I don’t know that I’m ever going to get over that.”

  “Grazed,” Ivy corrected. “I was grazed. It was barely an injury.”

  That’s not how Jack remembered it, especially since it was a former enemy of his who injured her. “You were taken to the hospital.”

  “I was fine.”

  “Yeah, well ... .” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I feel bad about you being shot,” he admitted when he pulled away. “I feel guilty, but you’re right. Yo
u’re okay. The shooting wasn’t the worst part of that day, though. That’s what I still think about occasionally.”

  “You mean the part where you left me alone at the hospital?” Ivy said it in a serene manner. But Jack knew there was a bit of underlying tension there, even almost a year later.

  “That would be what I’m talking about,” he confirmed. “I left you alone after you were hurt on my account and ... hid.”

  “I happen to remember you getting drunk as a skunk,” she said. “I think it’s more apt to say you hid in a bottle.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He poked her side. “You like making me feel bad.”

  “I don’t like making you feel bad,” she corrected. “That’s the last thing I want. Although ... when I do remind you of that first picnic I almost always end up with a really long massage out of the deal. I happen to like those.”

  He barked out a laugh at her faux innocent expression. “That right there is why I love you.” He extended a finger. “I fell in love with that sass the minute I saw you. That’s why I couldn’t stay away after I made the terrible mistake, and begged you to take me back.”

  “I don’t remember a lot of begging.”

  “I was pitiful,” he supplied. “I cried. I considered getting on my knees. You were furious, and you had every right to be. I was terrified you would never forgive me. That’s when I knew that something truly spectacular was happening between us. I recognized we were destined to be together back then, even though we’d only known each other for a few weeks at that point.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of cute.” Ivy handed him a sandwich. “Roast beef and Swiss. You don’t have to worry about sprouts or anything.”

  Jack accepted the sandwich. “You know what’s funny?”

  “Reruns of The Golden Girls?”

  “That and the fact that I love you so much I would willingly eat sprouts. I have no idea how it happened ... but there you go.”

  She was ashamed to admit she went soft and gooey all over. “Oh, and that’s exactly why I made you a sandwich without sprouts.”

  “I know. We’re such a good team.” He opened his arms and chuckled as Ivy slipped into them and gave him a long kiss. They were lost in each other, the world forgotten, and well on their way to some unfortunate stares in the family-friendly environment when the sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted the moment.

  Instinctively, Jack wrapped his arm around Ivy’s midriff and tugged her to the blanket, moving quickly to place himself between her and the interloper. He didn’t necessarily sense danger. He wasn’t taking any chances, though.

  “Who are you?”

  The man standing at the edge of the blanket wore an expensive suit, one Jack was certain he wouldn’t be able to pay for with three months of his salary as a police detective for Shadow Lake’s small department. His dark hair was thinning on top but styled in such a way that it was greased back, as if to offer him an air of ostentatious posturing.

  “Hello.” The man’s smile was bright and fake. “My name is Carson Prickwillow. I’m a producer on the show Hearts on Fire, and I was hoping I could talk to you for a brief moment.”

  Jack furrowed his brow as Ivy leaned over his shoulder to whisper.

  “Did he just say his last name was Prickwillow?” she asked on a soft breath, causing him to bite back a laugh.

  “Well, Mr. Prickwillow ... ,” Jack started.

  “Call me Carson,” the man insisted, his smile broadening. “I prefer my business associates be on a first-name basis with me. It makes things less formal, and I hate it when things are too formal.”

  Since he stood in the middle of a town park, ramrod straight, not a hair out of place, Jack had his doubts. “What can I do for you, Carson?” he asked, relaxing marginally as Ivy reached for the picnic basket. Apparently she was no longer worried they were about to be attacked and was more interested in eating than anything else.

  “It’s not about what you can do for me.” The man’s smile was unnaturally wide, almost as if the corners of his mouth were about to fall off his face. To Jack’s mind, the smile reminded him of the evil clown in It ... and he couldn’t quite allow himself to relax. “It’s about what I can do for you.”

  Jack glanced over his shoulder and found Ivy eating potato salad, her demeanor calm as she allowed him to handle the conversation. “Don’t eat all that without me,” he chided. “You know I love your potato salad.” He cleared his throat as he turned back to Carson. “I don’t think I’m in the market for you to do anything for me. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  Ivy chuckled at Jack’s response. “I don’t think he wants to do that for you,” she commented, her eyes speculative. “I guess I could be wrong, though.”

  “Eat your potato salad,” Jack ordered. “Not all of it, though.”

  Either Carson didn’t understand the conversational shift or he opted to ignore it. Jack couldn’t decide which. “I’m here with Éclair Sheridan. That’s with the accent mark, if you’re writing it down. I’m sure you know who that is.”

  Jack’s expression was blank. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

  “She’s a local debutante,” Ivy replied. “I mean ... if you can still use that word. She’s like the Paris Hilton of northern Lower Michigan.”

  Jack’s forehead wrinkled. “Is that a thing? And how do you know that?”

  “She’s made the news up here several times,” Ivy replied, blasé. “She thinks she’s famous but she’s really not. She’s kind of like a Kardashian, but even less impressive or talented ... if that’s even possible.”

  “Okay.” Jack stroked his chin as his gaze traveled back to Carson. “And her name is Éclair?”

  “Like a doughnut,” Ivy said with a laugh.

  Carson’s expression turned sour. “Ms. Sheridan happens to be a rising star in the celebrity world.”

  “Pseudo-celebrity,” Ivy corrected.

  Carson pretended he didn’t hear her. “She is a rising star,” he repeated. “She’s also right over there.” He pointed to a spot about fifty feet away, on the sidewalk where a willowy blonde stood with two other women — both shorter — and enthusiastically waved in their direction. “I’m sure you recognize her now.”

  Jack pursed his lips, uncertain how he should respond. Finally, he opted for the truth. “No.”

  “Jack isn’t much on paying attention to the celebutante crowd,” Ivy offered. “That’s not really his scene.”

  “It’s not,” Jack agreed. “Not to be rude or anything, but is there a reason why you’re over here? I mean ... we’re kind of in the middle of something.”

  “Yeah,” Ivy echoed, shoveling a forkful of potato salad into her mouth. “We’re busy.” She said the second part with her mouth full of food, causing Jack to grin.

  “Is it any wonder you’re my favorite person in the world?” he teased, snagging the potato salad container from her in one quick, fluid movement. “You’re going to eat all that if you don’t stop now. I want some, so ... stop.”

  Ivy’s eyes flashed. “Then make him go away. He’s ruining our day.”

  “I’m working on it.” Jack feigned patience as he turned back to Carson. “What did you say you wanted?”

  Carson straightened, tugging on his suit coat to smooth the wrinkles. He was obviously flummoxed by the couple’s reaction to his presence. He clearly expected a better welcome. “Well, as I said, I’m the producer for Hearts on Fire. It’s a dating show set in this very area ... and Ms. Sheridan is the star.”

  “Wow,” Jack intoned, making a face Ivy found absolutely hilarious. “A dating show, huh? Set here? That should garner a heckuva a lot of attention at next month’s barn dance.”

  Carson cocked his head to the side. “I’m sorry but ... what’s a barn dance?”

  Jack pointed toward the barn across the way. It was tucked into the town square between the horse livery and the yarn store. “Every month there’s a town dance in that barn. It’s a
big shindig and everyone line dances together like we’re trapped in Footloose. How can you not know that?”

  Ivy recognized Jack was playing with Carson, but she didn’t put a stop to it. In truth, she was enjoying the show. She had no idea what the stiff man wanted, but he would grow tired of the game eventually and tell them. Until then, Ivy had to admit she wasn’t even close to being bored.

  “I ... well ... I’ll keep that in mind. The dances might actually be something we can use for the show. The viewing public loves folksy stuff like that.”

  “Yes.” Jack’s expression was sober, but Ivy could practically feel the mirth washing over him. “Who doesn’t love folksy stuff?”

  “I fear I’ve strayed from my original intention when coming over to talk to you,” Carson said, his eerie smile back in place. “I did have a reason for coming over here.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Jack said. “If you didn’t have a reason, all of this would be ridiculously weird.”

  “Right.” Carson missed the sarcasm. “You see, Ms. Sheridan and I were touring the town. We’re looking for different locations in which to film Hearts on Fire. That’s the dating show I was telling you about.”

  “You’ve said the name three times now,” Ivy pointed out. “We know the name.”

  “No matter how much we wish we didn’t,” Jack muttered under his breath, causing Ivy to giggle.

  “Yes, well, the show is about to go into production,” Carson continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Jack and Ivy were toying with him. “It could mean a great deal of attention for this area, and once it airs, it could be a boon for tourism. That’s why the Shadow Lake council has agreed to let us film here for free.”