Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(42)

“How would I know? Obviously, I liked ‘em.”

Well. Obviously.

“Until I stopped liking them,” he finished.

Well, obviously about that too.

I made no reply.

“But, gotta admit,” he muttered distractedly, his eyes sliding to the lake, his hand going to his coffee cup, “none of them were like you.”

I was curious to know what that meant even though I was kind of freaking out about this conversation but I didn’t get the opportunity to figure out how to shape my question so as not to sound overly nosy, fishing for compliments or gossiping cattily because that was when Luci returned.

“Here we are!” she called, gliding forward carrying an open laptop which she rounded Sam with, then shoved my dirty dishes aside with one hand and plonked it on the table in front of me. “All ready. I have wi-fi or whatever; Sam set it up for me the other day so you’re good out here.”

Sam could set up wi-fi. This meant he was trained to kill, trained to read people and was good with computers.

Interesting, useful (ish) and scary.

I leaned forward but didn’t take my heels from my seat as I slid my finger on the mousepad, clicked and plucked out the web address one-handed and called up my webmail then Paula’s e-mail which had the subject line Woot! Woot! Perfect!

I clicked the link and stopped breathing.

It was.

Perfect.

It was one of The Dorchester’s three-story, two bedroom units. This meant it had a dining room rather than dining area. This also meant that it had a study or family room area that was kind of a balcony that opened up over the first floor. This meant it wasn’t awesome, it was awesome.

Therefore, looking at it, I whispered, “Awesome.”

“Let’s see!” Luci cried then suddenly the laptop was twisted away from me and toward her and Sam and, instantly, I felt panic.

This was because The Dorchester was cool and that particular unit was awesome.

What it was not was a swanky, exclusive hotel. It was also not what an ex-pro-football player who had numerous endorsement contracts could afford. Nor was it an Italian villa which had an extended garage that housed five trashy but mind-bogglingly expensive automobiles.

Shit.

“Uh… I, uh…” I stammered then blurted, “It’s in Indiana.”

Sam’s eyes went from the laptop to me and Luci, who was standing beside him and bent to look, twisted to me.

Neither of them spoke.

They thought it was rinky-dink.

I looked to Luci.

“Uh, we don’t have villas in Indiana, er, I don’t think or, at least, I’ve never seen one.”

Luci’s face softened and her lips smiled before she said quietly, “It’s lovely, cara.”

“Uh… thanks,” I muttered then slid my heels off the chair and stood, saying quickly, “I’ll e-mail Paula after I get ready.” My eyes moved to Sam. “Is my stuff upstairs?”

He shook his head, put his coffee cup down and then his hands to the arms of his chair as he muttered, “I’ll get it.”

He didn’t push up.

This was because Luci announced, “Kia thinks she’s normal.”

My breath clogged and I was pretty sure my eyes bugged out.

Sam’s gaze cut to her.

“Come again?”

“She told her French friend she was normal,” Luci explained. “Not like us.”

Sam’s gaze cut back to me.

I wondered if there was additional sentencing if you were tried and convicted for clobbering ex-supermodels.

“Kia, cara mia,” Luci said to me and I tore my eyes from a perplexed Sam to her, “the pictures of your future home are lovely. It’s much like Travis and my home in North Carolina.”

Oh yeah. I forgot Sam lived in North Carolina; he’d stayed where he’d last been stationed.

Wow. That was a long way away from me.

“Except smaller,” Luci finished.

“Uh…” I mumbled.

“Girl, give us a minute,” Sam said to Luci and Luci turned to him.

“How many minutes with Kia are you going to need, Sam?” she asked tartly, clearly wishing to be in on finishing the intervention she’d instigated after outing further pieces of my dramatic conversation with Celeste she’d eavesdropped on.

His eyes cut to her and they stayed locked on her as he stood, his head tipping down to hold her gaze as he straightened and hers tipping back to hold his.

Then he rumbled, “A lot.”

“Right,” she whispered, turned to me, bugged out her eyes then she glided away.

I watched her go then looked to Sam.

“You’re not like us?” he asked.

“That was taken out of context,” I explained. “Luci only heard my side of the conversation.”

“So, baby, tell me, how did she take it out of context?”

“Well –” I started but didn’t finish.

This was because Sam cut me off to ask, “I thought we got past this last night.”

“Actually, I was telling Celeste about last night. That was how it was out of context.”

“Okay, then, why did you look like you were holding back the urge to grab Luci’s laptop and throw it over the balcony when she turned it so we could see pictures of the place you’re thinkin’ of buying?”