Page 15 of Falling for the Wrong Guy

“No, I doubt hers was the best Irish stew because Nonna—I mean, my grandmother, made the world’s best Irish stew, so your grandma’s would have been second best.”

His smile returned. “Well, what do you know? We’ve got something in common.”

“And that’s where the similarities end. Enjoy your omelet.” I walked away, chin in the air. I’d been doing that a lot lately. I also peeked back at him when I reached the kitchen. Another mistake. He was still watching me, and he threw in a wink.

I hurried into the safety of my extremely hot kitchen.

ChapterEleven

Dex

Ireluctantly left the aromatic warmth of the restaurant and stepped into the brisk morning air. I’d been having far too much fun flustering Aria. She’d formed an opinion of me based on a few brief meetings. Of course, her opinion was pretty spot on. Not that I made a point of causing trouble. I’d just always had a natural affinity for attracting it. This time, I had to give myself a break. I hadn’t chased or attracted this latest bout of trouble. That was all on Quinn. Thinking of him reminded me I needed to send Angie a text.

“Saw Q last night. Talked to him about our trips to the county fair. I wish I could tell you he reacted. Hang in there, Ang. We’ll get through this.” She returned two heart emojis. I knew she was at work, and her boss didn’t allow personal calls except for emergencies.

I reached the marina. Gus was nowhere to be seen. For a second, I wondered if he’d pulled a Flipper and followed a flock of passing gulls. That thought actually made me sad. There were a few other gulls on the marina, but I knew Gus from the rest of them. You got to know a bird after he spent a lot of time as your best friend.

I was sure he’d just found something interesting down on the beach or out on the water. He did occasionally go back to his roots and act like a gull. He just preferred to spend more time acting like a dog with wings.

I stepped onto the deck and headed into the cabin to see if he’d wandered inside. “Well, well, this is quite the impressive boat,” a deep voice said.

Every muscle in my body tensed with adrenaline. The guy was stretched out on my bunk, eating a bag of sunflower seeds and spitting the shells everywhere. I quickly tried to figure out my next move. I needed the intruder out of my cabin. I also didn’t want to destroy the place. It was my home.

“Let’s talk, shall we?” he asked before spitting out more shells. The guy had a shaved head beneath a black beanie. There was a bloody dagger tattoo on his neck, along with a bunch of other ink that was so crowded together I couldn’t tell one tattoo from the next.

“Why don’t you get off my bed, and we can talk outside, on deck? You’re stinking up the place.” Right then, something sharp pressed into my back, and someone’s foul breath floated over my shoulder.

“Just came from the deck,” the man behind me sneered. “It ain’t that impressive. In fact, this whole pile of rust looks like it’s one short voyage from the bottom of the sea.”

His friend laughed, spraying out a flurry of seeds. The bed creaked as he sat up on it with his bulky weight. “All we need is the location of the coins, and we’ll be on our way. You won’t have to see us again.”

“That’s all you need, eh?”

“Either that or we can find the information elsewhere. I’ll bet your buddy in the hospital is just faking it, so he doesn’t have to say anything. Maybe a good shake or two. Or maybe he told his sweet little wife, Angie, where?—”

I took a step forward. The knife followed me, and the sunflower man sat up straighter.

“You go near Angie, and I will personally break every bone in your body. Twice.”

He laughed. This time, spittle flew from his rubbery lips.

Bringing up Quinn and Angie had filled me with a silent rage. I glanced around and noticed my cast iron skillet, the one that made rubbery eggs and not much more, was sitting within reach. I snatched it off the hotplate and swung around so fast the guy with the knife had no time to react. I smacked the side of his head with the skillet, and he stumbled back with a dazed look.

It took a second for his overly tattooed friend to realize what had happened. The boat shifted under his weight as he pushed off the bunk and launched himself toward me. I ducked out of the way as he lunged at me. He grunted in pain as he fell to his knees on the deck.

His friend had been knocked senseless, but he was still conscious. I readied my fist to slam the first one to come at me. A shadow crossed over us, and Gus shrieked loudly as he dove at the big man on his knees. The man covered his head and did a little shrieking himself. He flailed his arms at Gus, but Gus had a big advantage with those amazing wings.

“Get this bird off me before I twist its neck,” the guy growled.

I whistled and motioned for Gus to fly up to the wheelhouse where he’d be safe. The knife that had been in my back was glistening in the sunlight pouring onto the deck. I picked it up and tossed it overboard before helping the knife-wielder to his feet. He was still unsteady.

“You might want to keep an eye on this one,” I said to the man with tattoos. “He took a mean one to the head. And I have no idea where the coins are, and whoever your connection in prison is, whoever has sent you to find those coins, well, they did such a thorough job beating it out of Quinn, I doubt he’ll even remember where the coins are. Now get off my boat before I throw you both overboard.”

“Like to see you try,” he said with a sneer.

“Oh, it wouldn’t take all that much trying. I think my gull could get the job done, and I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Should we see if I’m right?” I looked back up toward Gus. He was still on high alert with fluffy feathers and his shiny black gaze trained on the intruders.

The boat shifted again as the guy walked over and grabbed the arm of his dizzy friend.

---