I wrapped my arms around Owen’s neck and drew his mouth down for a kiss. I’d meant for it to be a quick caress of my lips on his, but Owen coaxed my mouth open, his tongue stroking against mine, his hands kneading my back, and liquid heat pooled in my stomach. It was several seconds before I pulled back, breathless, aching, and yearning for something else besides breakfast. Something that would be even more delicious and far more satisfying.
“You know, that walk on the beach is sounding better and better all the time,” Owen murmured, his eyes glinting with the same heat that thumped through my veins.
“Later,” I promised. “We’ve got work to do this morning, remember? Finn, did you bring the information that I asked you to? Finn?”
He was too busy bending Bria over backward and planting a sound, lingering kiss on her to answer. It took them even longer to come up for air than it had Owen and me, and by the time Finn set Bria back up on her feet, most of the people in the restaurant were staring at them. A few of the wives were even poking their husbands in the chests, muttering about how they never got kissed like that anymore.
Finn grinned, gave an elaborate flourish with his hand, and dipped into a low bow before straightening up and addressing the entire restaurant. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it is done.”
A couple of the older women broke out into enthusiastic applause, and Finn winked at them all in turn. A furious blush flooded Bria’s cheeks at the unexpected, unwanted attention, but her blue eyes were sparkling. Whatever his faults might be, Finn made my sister happy, and that was all I really cared about, even if I’d wanted to keep a lower profile this morning.
We got a booth in the back and sat down, with Finn and Owen sliding into the opposite side from Bria and me. Finn was carrying a silverstone briefcase, but he didn’t open it and put it on the table. He didn’t need to. I knew what was inside already—all the information he’d been able to dig up on Dekes in the last few hours. In addition to his prowess as an investment banker, Finn also dabbled in information trading. Well, perhaps dabbled wasn’t the right word when you had an extensive network of spies and snitches in Ashland and beyond like he did. Either way, there were few things he liked better than unearthing other people’s deepest, darkest secrets, whether it was for cold, hard cash or just his own personal amusement.
There would be plenty of time to sort through the files later. Right now, I was determined to enjoy a meal with some of the people I cared about the most. I was still on vacation, and I was determined to act like it—at least for the next hour or so.
We ordered enough food for an army, and the four us of laughed and talked and joked while we waited for everything to arrive, like we were out on a casual double date instead of getting ready to consider what to do about Dekes. Or maybe this was just our own sort of date, plotting against the bad guys while we chowed down.
Thirty minutes later, Callie came over to our booth with several platters of steaming food balanced on her forearms, with two more waitresses trailing along behind her carrying even more dishes.
Stacks of thick Belgian waffles drizzled with peach syrup, piles of fresh-cooked bacon, sizzling sausage, golden hash browns, deep-fried cinnamon rolls drizzled with sweet icing, toasted pineapple muffins slathered with whipped cream cheese, iced glasses full of mango mimosas. I breathed in, relishing the smells of the sticky waffles, flaky muffins, and hearty meats. They mixed together with all the other mouthwatering flavors in the air, creating a cloud of succulent aroma over the table.
“It all looks wonderful,” Bria said. “Thanks, Callie.”
The other woman nodded. “Sure. It’s my pleasure. I hope you guys enjoy it.”
She smiled, but the tight expression didn’t really lift her lips. Callie looked like she hadn’t slept well last night. Purple smudges had gathered in the corners of her eyes, streaking out across her skin like a football player’s greasepaint, and her whole body was tight and rigid. Even her blue work apron and the casual white T-shirt and khakis she had on underneath seemed stiff and starched with tension.
“What’s wrong?” Bria asked, picking up on her friend’s dark mood.
“Four bodies were found floating in the pool at the Blue Sands hotel this morning,” Callie said in a soft voice. “It’s the talk of the whole island.”
Yeah, I’d figured it would be, and coming into the restaurant had only confirmed my suspicion. I’d heard more than a few folks around us say words like dead bodies and murdered and pool since we’d been sitting in our booth. Not too hard to figure out what everyone was buzzing about.
“The Blue Sands happens to be the same hotel where you told me that you had booked a suite,” Callie continued. “One of the men was Pete Procter, and another was his buddy, Trent. I’m sure you remember them. They’re the two guys who came into the restaurant last night and threatened me. The same two guys that your sister . . . dealt with.”
Callie looked at me, and I met her gaze head-on. If she hadn’t figured out by now that there was more to me than met the eye, well, she hadn’t been paying attention. Callie didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who missed much. She’d already put most of it together, and all she needed now was confirmation from us. How she would react when Bria told her what had happened was what was going to be interesting.
Bria hesitated. “Come back later when you get a break, okay? There are some things that we need to talk about, including what happened to those two guys. In private.”
Callie stared at me another second before dropping her gaze and nodding at Bria. “Sure. Just as soon as I get a chance.”
She turned, threaded her way through the packed tables, and headed back into the kitchen to start on her next order, with the waitresses trailing along behind her. Nobody at our booth spoke for a moment.
“Well, that was rather awkward,” Finn said.
None of us answered him.
But Finn being Finn, he ignored the silence, smiled, and picked up one of the platters of food. “But on to more important matters. Who wants waffles?”
We spent the next hour eating. The food was just as delicious as it had been the night before. The waffles were light and fluffy, the peach syrup was sweet without being too sugary, and the mango mimosas packed just enough of a champagne punch to make you think about lazing away the rest of the day in a chair out on the beach.
Finally, though, the food was finished, the platters were cleared away, and it was just the four of us at the table once more, which meant that vacation time was over—for now.
“All right,” I said. “Lay it out for us, Finn.”
“Why, I thought you’d never ask,” he drawled.
Finn put his silverstone briefcase on the table, popped it open, and pulled out a thick manila folder. He flipped it open, turned it around, and scooted the file over to me and Bria.
“Randall Michael Dekes,” Finn said. “Vampire, real estate mogul, and all-around bloodsucking bad guy. Exact age and magical abilities unknown, but he’s rumored to be more than three hundred and exceptionally powerful, with lots of elemental magic to spare.”