“Of course not,” Hazard said, those scarecrow eyes bright. “Remember? You pulled a fast one on the great Emery Hazard.”

“God damn you. For once in your life I want to surprise you with something.”

“Well,” Hazard whispered, his voice gravelly as he spoke into Somers’s ear. “You’re just going to have to get better at this. Don’t sit out in your car for forty-five minutes making phone calls, and don’t have lunch dates with Wesley at the Astoria, but most importantly,” Hazard grinned, a genuine, huge grin that split his face, “don’t accidentally give Maria my cell number when you’re still making the arrangements for the reception.”

“No, there’s no way I—wait a minute.” Somers pushed back, studying Hazard’s face. “You’re better. You didn’t freeze when the poppers went off or—you’re getting better.”

Hazard shrugged. “I’m married to you now. I don’t know how much better I can get.”

Wiping his eyes, Somers said, “That’s very cheesy.”

“We’re allowed one cheesy line per year.”

“I think I’ll save mine,” Somers said with a grin, and then he wiped his eyes again.

Turning Hazard toward the Mustang, Somers gave him a little push to get him into the car, and then he closed the door for him. He went around to his seat, gave friends and family a last wave, and then they drove off into the night.

“Are we going on a honeymoon?” Hazard said.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“The British Virgin Islands.”

“God damn it, Emery Francis Hazard.”

“It’s very cute,” Hazard said, leaning across the console to kiss him. “Just keep trying.”

After a few more miles, as they headed toward the hotel in St. Louis where they’d spend the night, Somers took Hazard’s hand and threaded their fingers together.

“Do you want me to change my name?” Hazard asked.

“What? No, I hadn’t really thought about it. Do you want me to change mine?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Evie has your last name. It makes more sense for me to change mine. Besides, yours is more distinguished.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.”

Somers smiled and shook his head. “You know what? I kind of like the sound of Hazard and Somerset.”

THE SAME BREATH

Keep reading for a sneak preview of The Same Breath, the first book in a new series by Gregory Ashe.

1

Teancum Leon had barely gotten home from the Division of Wildlife Resources when someone knocked at the apartment’s door. Scipio, his black Lab, was in the middle of doing a welcome dance-slash-please take me out for a walk, but the Lab adjusted his priorities and lunged at the door, barking.

“All right,” Tean said, stroking the dog’s ears as he bumped him out of the way.

Mrs. Wish, his neighbor from the end of the hall, was wearing her usual ensemble, regardless of day or night: a full-length house dress, something Tean could have imagined her picking from a color page in the Sears Catalogue, and a chemically pink terrycloth robe over it. Her long white hair was free of its usual bun, and her eyes were wide.