Xander rolled his eyes, but the two UFO experts didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Quit bragging, Lois.” The colonel threw a beefy arm around Xander’s shoulders. “Let’s brief this young man on the transmitter. Or has your uncle already trained you in its operation?”
Xander flushed and spluttered, “Oh for cripes’ sake, enough with the UFO BS! There’s no such thing as ETs.” He smacked the cosmic transmitter, which wobbled on its metal base. “This hunk of junk doesn’t transmit anything but suckers wishful thinking. And there’s nothing beneath this building but a cement pad.” His voice rose to a ragged shout. “There is no freakin’ cosmic vortex.”
Darting forward, Hannah yanked him out of the colonel’s grip. The two experts gawked, as did dozens of customers drawn by the ruckus.
“You’ll have to forgive Xander,” Hannah cooed. “He’s not thinking clearly after such a terrible loss. He’s the one who found his uncle’s body. I’m sure you can understand how traumatizing that must’ve been.” She squeezed his arm hard, hoping he’d catch on.
They exchanged a loaded glance. His nostrils flared in a deep inhalation.
The colonel clapped Xander’s shoulder. “Of course. Terrible loss. It’s a grave responsibility you’ve inherited, son. When you’re ready, you know where to find us.”
Lois gave Xander a bear hug, her voice husky with emotion. “Gus was a good man. You’ve got some big shoes to fill.”
When the colonel and the professor moved away, muttering over her tricorder thingy, Hannah smacked Xander’s arm. “Way to drive away your best customers. Whatever you believe about UFOs, you need to zip your lip in front of these people.”
Xander scoffed. “My customers will be tourists who come to Trappers Cove for fun and relaxation. I’ll offer what they want, not this UFO crap.”
Hannah crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “What can you offer that isn’t already for sale on Main Street?”
His harsh glare softened as he tapped his pursed lips. What would those lips feel like against hers? Heavenly, she bet. And those strong arms around her? Mmmm, delicious.
“Good question,” he said at last with a wry smile. “Help me figure that out?”
“Huh?” She blinked hard, struggling to recall what they were talking about.
“Show me Trappers Cove. My only hope of keeping this shop alive is to find out what needs and wants aren’t already being met. Teach me what makes this town tick.”
His words were all business, but playful energy sparkled in his mahogany eyes.
Well, why not? This might be her best shot. Once he saw the competition, he’d recognize the importance of maintaining his niche market.
She lifted her chin. “Okay, you’re on.”
“Excellent.”
His smoldering smile ignited giddy tummy flutters.
Xander rested his palm on the “mermaid’s” glass case. “Who knew people could get so passionate about this ugly old fish monkey?”
She giggled. “Correction: this uglyalienfish monkey. Mind if I take a photo?”
“Don’t you have one on file?”
“Not with the handsome new owner.”
He rolled his eyes. So much for her flirtation skills.
“C’mon,” she wheedled, “it’ll attract new customers. A smart business owner knows how to maximize his advantages.”
He scoffed but flashed a panty-melting smile for the camera.
“So.” He rubbed his hands together. “When can we get started with my Trappers Cove lessons?”
Her stomach rumbled, a reminder that she’d had nothing but a cupcake since breakfast.
Well, a woman’s gotta eat. And there’s no harm in mixing business and pleasure.
