Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(34)

Derek dropped onto a green pillow at her left. He handed her an open bottle of beer. Any other man, any other night, and she wouldn’t have accepted an open container. But if Derek had wanted to screw her over, all he had to do was point her at the nearest soul magic user. Or ask his boss to renege on the deal. She’d trust a beer from him, even take it graciously.

She thanked him, and he tapped the neck of his bottle against hers in lowbrow salud. They both took long pulls, but when he lowered his, half the drink was gone. She hadn’t made nearly that kind of dent. He was double her size and double the drinker.

Had he licked the brew from his lips in slow motion, or was her brain fucking with her? There had to be some other magic woo-woo at play here. She sucked in a quick breath through her nose and let it out her mouth. A little de-stress breathing would calm her overexcited nerves.

“You been to something like this before?”

What? Were they skipping work tonight or was this the plan all along? Callie’s mind was spinning too fast to parse his shift in tone. Had he known she needed a distraction? A healthy distraction?

“First timer here. Though, I thought you said you were taking me dancing. Looks like it’s all pros here.”

Years disappeared when he smiled at her. She could almost pretend he wasn’t old enough to buy her that beer. “Right now they’re dancing. Later they’ll teach people, and usually everyone’s drunk enough not to care if they look like an idiot.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” She leaned her shoulder into his side.

He tightened his arm around her, keeping her in close. The Indian spices in the air mingled with the cologne she’d smelled earlier, combining in a heady mix that made her melt into him. “Of course.”

She craned her neck to meet his gaze fully. “For real? You’ve belly danced?”

“These hips don’t lie.” He rocked his hips from side to side for effect. Laughter bubbled from her belly. He continued to jostle her and chuckle. His seated dance moves didn’t up his sexy factor, but the laughing might.

Callie eased back into the plush cushions, and crossed her legs. Her knee grazed his. “So you can dance. What other skills are you keeping secret?”

Bemusement brought a single dimple to his right cheek. “When I was fifteen I could throw an eighty-mile-per-hour fastball.”

“Damn. Do you still play?” Baseball was the only stick-and-ball sport Callie could get into.

“No. Life got complicated in high school. It’s been more than a decade since I’ve been on a diamond.”

“You’re probably terrifying at a batting cage,” she said, picturing him dropping his leather jacket on the concrete and overwhelming the batter’s box with muscles and straining cotton.

“You mean because I can hit a baseball like a beast?” A wry smile played at his lips.

The next half hour passed quickly. Derek was better at small talk than Callie would have guessed. His grunts were few and his jokes plentiful. His attention was divided, though. He was constantly scanning the room, watching everyone around them. The lack of his full focus was disappointing, but having experienced both focused attention and neglect, Callie had to say she preferred the latter. Too much attention and you were bound to disappoint, but if you’re frequently forgotten, it was far easier to impress when you were noticed. Derek’s smile almost made her think she’d be able to make him grin on command.

Or perhaps not.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “One of my sources is here.”

“That’s good?” His tone suggested otherwise, but wasn’t that the point of the night? Callie could pretend it was a date all she wanted—the atmosphere and the beer almost enough to make her forget her job, Derek’s job, and the flask in her pocket—but the truth was they were here for information. This was work.

He grumbled and stared so hard at a slender man across the room in a larger group of people, the guy’s black cowboy boots should have set fire.

The intensity left Callie’s mouth dry and her throat tight. She indulged in a few nerve-soothing swigs of beer. “Should I hold him down while you beat him with noodles?”

Derek scowled. So much for her make-him-laugh-whenever idea. “You stay here.”

“So that’s a no on the noodles?” she tried again.

He finally looked her way, as though remembering she was there. “I don’t want him to know you.”

It should have sounded protective, but instead it reminded her how small and useless she was here. Even her newly magical fingertips did jack tucked away at the edge of this restaurant. Had Derek kept her away to keep her fingers from going aglow? The Soul Charmer had stuck him with her, and now he had to be worried she’d fuck up something important. “Sure,” she muttered.

His brows furrowed, which only made Callie’s stomach sink lower. “He’s not a friend.” The emphasis was on not, as though he thought she might run up to Cowboy Boots, wrap her legs around him, and tell him everything she knew about the Soul Charmer.

“Got it.” She took another hard pull from the bottle to give herself something to do.

Derek’s source excused himself from a group of people. He was alone, and Derek was ready to pounce. “Don’t leave,” he said as he stood.

Because she had so many other engagements. “Right.”