“She reversed into a statue made out of garbage welded together, and a pointy piece jabbed her in the ass. She stumbled forward, but her stiletto heel got caught, and she went flying—”
“Right into Jayden’s arms. And I knew in that instant it was love at first sight. Not only was he tall, strong, and handsome, we shared the same opinion about the artwork.” She bats her eyelashes at me, and I choke back a laugh.
“So what happened to the woman you wanted to impress with the high-priced pet supplies?” Mildred asks me.
“I was so taken by Isabelle’s beauty and grace, I forgot all about the woman.” I stroke my thumb against Isabelle’s cheek, and my breath catches at the raw, unexpected emotion in her eyes.
Ignoring the part about being in a busy restaurant, I lower my lips to hers. It’s not a hungry, dominating kiss. It’s a slow kiss that gives as much as it takes.
My heart stirs, and it feels as though something has finally woken up inside me. Like I’d been half-dreaming, half-awake until now—vaguely aware of the truth but not completely certain what it is.
Without realizing it, I’ve been falling in love with Isabelle. But unlike in our fictitious story of how we met, there was no lightning-bolt moment. No neon sign telling me what was going on. It had been subtle, happening a bit at a time for months now, easy to overlook.
Uh. Oh.
That’s not good.
Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away.
Like an itch.
A voice in the back of my head cracks up, reminding me: the more you ignore an itch, the worse it becomes.
Until you get to the point where you can’t stop dwelling on it, can’t stop scratching it.
But that’s precisely what I’ll have to do. Even if I want to confront the truth, I can’t while we’re on a mission. Our focus has to be on our job.
My phone vibrates in my shorts pocket. I remove it and check who sent a text.
Connor:Decided to do a more in-depth background check on Blake and Virginia. Spidey alert warned that something is off about them. Looks like they aren’t who they claim to be. Am only able to find limited information on them.
Me:Witness protection?
This wouldn’t be the first time that has happened. It just makes our jobs harder. The last thing you want is to storm into the wrong castle because you’re chasing after erroneous leads.
Connor:Possibly. If they are, then the agency who has them under protection is doing their job. I have to be careful about how I tread if that’s the case. I don’t want to piss off the wrong people.
I’ll tell you if I discover anything else on them. Otherwise, please be advised.
Me:Will do. Thanks.
For a moment, I consider keeping the information to myself. But as much as I want to barricade Isabelle in a safe place, we’re still partners on this mission. And as her partner, I have the responsibility to share everything pertaining to the case with her.
I hand her my phone, and she scrolls through the messages. Without looking at Blake and Virginia, she nods and gives it back to me.
Her fingers thread with mine on my lap, and she gives them a light squeeze. Message clear—she won’t take any unnecessary risks with them until we know who they are and why they’re staying at the resort.
I don’t text Landon since the three of us are meeting in three hours, after he hacks into Bernard’s computer.
We finish eating our meal, and the waitress checks if we want anything else.
“I’ll have the chocolate cake, please.” Isabelle hands her the menu.
“I’ll have a bite of yours,” I tell her.
She pokes me in the chest. “There’s no freaking way that you’re”—poke, poke—“eating mine.” Poke. “You want some”—poke—“then you order your own, mister.” Poke.
The last poke is given with a little more oomph than the previous bunch.
