Casanova(21)

“You and I have a different idea of fun.”

“Of course we do.” I laughed lightly. “Your idea of fun was always browsing the library shelves for hours upon end until you found the right book.”

“Was? I’m offended. It still is fun, thank you. You should try it sometime. It might keep you out of trouble.” She glanced toward me and the briefest smile flickered across her lips.

“You might be right,” I agreed. “But the likelihood that I’ll find anything I want to read is pretty slim.”

“That’s right—there are those tricky things called words in those books.”

“Ha, ha, ha.” The sand beneath my feet wasn’t as dry as my tone. “Funny.”

“I thought so.” She flashed me a smile—a real one this time. One that lit up her eyes with a genuine spark of amusement. “You know, the library might not be a bad idea.”

Groaning, I slowed my pace until I stopped. The heels of my hands dug into my knees when I bent forward and took a deep breath.

“What’s the matter, Brett? Tired already?”

I lifted my head in enough time to see Lani’s light pink lips curl around the open cap of a water bottle. I swallowed hard. “No. I am feeling a little distressed at the prospect of a library though.”

The bottle cap left her mouth with a light ‘pop.’ Or that could have been the sound of her rolling her eyes. Either was possible.

“Oh, for the love of god.” She snapped the cap down and put her hand on her hip. “I’m not going to make you trawl down aisle after aisle of kinky erotic books or good old bodice rippers.”

“You read kinky, erotic books?”

She clicked her fingers in front of my face. “Focus. With this brain.” Then she tapped the side of my head.

I laughed and straightened up. “Then why else would you take me to the torture house?”

“Okay, if you swear like that again, I’m going to beat you with an encyclopedia.” Her face was so deadly serious with her hard stare and pursed lips that it took all I had to control more laughter. “But no, I have a plan. Clearly we can’t be alone without fighting—”

“Whose fault is that?” I asked with an extra bite of sarcasm.

“Yours, obviously,” she threw back at me. “But in a library, we have to be quiet. We can’t fight there.”

I blew out a long breath and rubbed my face with the bottom of my t-shirt. “I’m not going to library, kitten.”

“You’ll be going to the hospital if you call me that one more time today.”

I let my t-shirt fall out of my hands and gave her a lopsided grin. “So, I can call you it tomorrow?”

She blinked. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“I tell people things I don’t mean all the time. Like, ‘Oh, yeah, this cake isn’t dry.’ Or ‘Gee, Connie, you make the best coffee.’ Or my personal favorite, ‘Oh, yeah, that was great sex. I totally came.’” She rolled her eyes.

My lopsided grin quickly became a full-blown one that hurt my cheeks.

Lani froze the moment she realized what she’d just said. “Fuck it,” she hissed.

Laughter burst out of me. “That’s why you’re being such a bitch to me. You need an orgasm.”

I stopped laughing when she held up two fingers and waved them at me with a smug smile. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of that, thank you very much. Now, back to the library.”

Fuck...now I was definitely not thinking about the library.

“The library at my house. Camille can make sure we don’t fight. Meet there in an hour.” Because after what she just said...well. I adjusted my pants and turned away from her.

She sighed heavily. “Fine. One hour. Don’t be late. I have better things to do than wait for you.”

Speak for yourself...





CHAPTER SEVEN


LANI



I just couldn’t help but agree to things I didn’t want to do, could I?

In my defense, I was naturally curious. I had a ridiculous urge to find out how Brett had fallen so hard and so fast. I didn’t understand how he’d gone from the person I remembered him as to the person he was today.

The stories didn’t lie. Or maybe they did, but I’d learned one important thing about stories in my job.

There’s no fiction without truth.

No doubt, the stories I’d heard about Brett Walker had a whisper of a truth to them. Most probably had a little more.

I wasn’t surprised about them. He’d never been a gentleman, not really. He’d always toed the line. He was the guy who’d let you walk through a door first then turn around and smack your ass.

Sidenote: I’d seen him do that before.

He got away with it, not only because his surname gave him a royal-like status in Whiskey Key, but because he was charming. He oozed charisma and charm. One smile was all it took for him to wrap you around his pinky finger and then you were done for.

It’d taken me eight years away from him to break the spell I’d be under as a naive high school student. Now I was back, I had the antidote.

I stopped by the newspaper office on my way to Walker’s to drop off the articles I’d rewritten last night. Mr. Reeves was more than impressed after a quick read-through and offered me the job on the spot. I accepted and made agreements to meet him the next day for the special assignment he’d mentioned the day before.