Page 42 of Just Beachy

“Hmmm. Why don’t you go in, put the fear of God into everyone as quickly as possible, and then…” She pauses. “Then I’ll call you and you act distraught or worried or, I don’t know, you’re the actress. I’m sure you can pull it off. Then you tell A.J. that you have an emergency and absolutely have to leave. You know, be all apologetic and everything.”

“I don’t know. What if he doesn’t buy it? What if he knows I’m lying?”

Kyra spears me with a look. “Despite all evidence to the contrary, the man continues to believe that you’re Cassie Everheart. How hard could it be to convince him you have an emergency?”

“But—”

“I know,” she says in a pure “Eureka!” tone. “Maybe Luke would be willing to stop at Harley’s and then offer to help out when you have to leave. Off-duty police take security gigs all the time, right? Then you could come join us at Bella Flora, and Luke could come once Harley’s closes.”

“But…” I begin to protest.

She grins. “You would like Luke to join us at Bella Flora, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I admit.

“And you’d like to come, too, right, Luke?”

“Absolutely.” He smiles.

“Good. It looks like we have a plan then. My work here is done.”

“Okay,” I say. “But if I get fired, you’re going to have to hire me to do something.”

Luke snorts.

Kyra gives me a look. “That man is never going to fire you. Or believe you’re anyone but Cassie,” she points out, which, alas, is true.

Sure enough, when Luke ambles in Friday evening, A.J. is thrilled to see him. In fact, even before I receive my emergency phone call, A.J. is having a bit of a bromance with Luke. So when I explain that I have to leave, A.J.’s thrilled to have Luke cover for me.

I grit my teeth and barely hold back a sigh when A.J. immediately offers him a drink.

• • •

Bella Flora islit up like a Christmas tree. Children and dogs run wild, while the adults drink and mingle. Best of all, when I belly up to the bar in the Casbah Lounge, no one, including Chase Hardin, who’s playing bartender, gives it a second thought. Soon I’m happily sipping a deliciously dry martini and chatting with Kyra and Troy while Dustin unsuccessfully attempts to get his Great Dane, Max, to roll over and “play dead.” Unfortunately, Max would rather lick people’s faces and any other reachable body parts, which is why I no longer have makeup on half of my face.

By the time Luke arrives, kids and dogs have been put to bed, but the party is still going strong, and I am feeling no pain.

We mingle with the others for a while then carry our drinks outside, where the moon is bright and shards of light sparkle on the dark water.

He leans down to kiss me, and for a while, the feel of his mouth on mine blots out everything else.

I don’t know whether it’s the alcohol talking (I’m no longer used to drinking!) or my automatic reaction to how good it feels to have Luke’s arms around me, but I look up mid-kiss and say, “I think we should go on a date.”

He takes a step back and checks my expression. “A date?”

“A date. You know, where we go out somewhere together to consume food and, hopefully, alcohol. Or go to a movie. Or out dancing. Or…”

“I do understand what a date is.” He smiles, regrouping. “But aren’t dates usually the thing that helps you get to know each other better and makes you want to have sex in the first place?”

I blink at this example of male logic in which dating’ssolepurpose is to make youwantto have sex with them.

“It’s not like we just met. I mean, we’ve known each other since you were an annoying child,” Luke points out. “When you were a teenager, you made it clear that you wanted to have sex with me. As I recall, there was begging involved.”

“I never begged!”

He smiles. “You looked like a whipped puppy when I said no. And I felt like a heel for turning you down. But you were way too young, Syd. And we were practically family.”

I grit my teeth. I have never forgotten the humiliation I felt when he said no. Or to be precise, “Don’t be silly, squirt,” which made it infinitely worse.

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