Page 73 of Criminally Yours

“Says the man who talked about me crawling to him this morning. How would that Strike play this?”

At that, Millie jumped out. But Strike reached the two women first.

“Hello, happy couple, and welcome to our beautiful corner of the world. I’m Joyce. And this is Merryn. She lives in town with her eighteen-year-old daughter,” the older lady said.

He beckoned Millie closer with a cocked finger, channelling the side he kept hidden. At her deepening flush and cheeky smile, he knew he was in trouble. As she sauntered toward him, her hips swaying, he suddenly felt light-headed

“This is my wife,” he said, his voice thick.

Millie poked him in the back, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her to his side. “Hi, you can call me…” she stuttered on the last word.

“Mrs. Steph Strickland,” Strike said, realising they should have discussed fake names. “And I’m Roy Strickland.”

“Lovely to meet you, Steph and Roy. Jonah told me you’re staying for two weeks.”

“Yes, we’re excited to be here, aren’t we, baby?” he replied.

Millie licked her lips, looking up at him. “We are. We can’t wait to get… comfortable after our wedding yesterday.”

He swallowed at the sensual way she said comfortable.

“I do love a wedding. Was it a big one?” Merryn asked.

“It was small but beautiful,” he stuttered, fighting against the side of him pushing to get out. “Just nice.”

Millie’s eyes twinkled, and she replied, “Please excuse my husband. He’s too polite. Lots of things went wrong yesterday. Would you believe my mum tried to push me off the dancefloor so she could dance with just him at the reception?”

“Oh, really? I love a bit of gossip,” Merryn replied. “Promise me you’ll come to my bakery in town and tell me everything. It’s called The Little Bakery of Joy.”

“I’d love to, even though Roy here would prefer to lock me in the house.”

Joyce and Merryn giggled, but Strike scowled at Millie and whispered, “We’re meant to be undercover.”

“At least I didn’t say ‘tie me to the bed,’” she hissed back.

He pressed his lips tightly, holding in a growl, before saying, “Excuse our whispering. I’m desperate to get her in the house.”

“Honeymooners. I remember my honeymoon. It was a lot of fun.” Merryn chuckled as she grabbed the hamper and held it out to Strike.

Joyce explained, “This is for you, as I suspect you don’t have any groceries.”

“That’s so kind,” Strike said, his voice warm as Millie reached under his shirt and dragged her nails down his back. He choked as he grunted, “Wasn’t that kind of her?”

“Yes, so kind.” Millie’s voice was as sweet as chocolate. He wanted to throw her on a bed and do what honeymoon couples really did.

Joyce pointed out the items in the hamper now sitting in Strike’s arms with her liver-spotted hands. “There’s bread and eggs from the chickens in my garden, honey and spread from our Saturday market, a bottle of wine from the local vineyard, and a few other bits.”

“Including cake from my bakery. I’ll save you a pastry tomorrow morning in case you visit.”

“They’re flakey bits of heaven, and Merryn is a fantastic confidant. If you ever need a bit of wisdom or someone to chat to, she is your woman.”

“Perfect,” Millie said.

Joyce beamed. “We locals care for our visitors, and Jonah has always been lovely to us. He helped make my chicken coop. He’s so handy.”

Strike nodded. “The best.”

“Don’t let me distract you. I hope we see you once ortwice, if you’re not too busy,” Joyce said, wriggling her eyebrows.