Page 31 of Sunburned

I took out my phone and pretended to check my makeup on the screen while capturing pictures of Allison with the two men.

The bartender slid our drinks toward us, and I raised my glass to Laurent. “Thanks for escorting me.”

He tipped his glass to mine and we both drank.

“I have to ask, but you do not have to answer—” He evaluated me, his eyes unreadable behind his mask. “Why has Tyson asked you to follow Allison?”

“Oh, it’s—” I racked my brain for how to say it without giving anything away. “I owe him a favor, and it’s kind of what I do for a living.”

He raised his brows. “You follow people?”

“I help attorneys get information that could be useful at trial, which, yeah, sometimes involves tracking people.”

He cocked his head. “How did you get into that?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have all night.”

“Short version, I’m good with computers,” I said. “I used to work in cybersecurity and one of my clients was a law firm. I helped them track down some digital information they needed for evidence in one of their cases, and it grew from there.”

“And you also track people?”

I shrugged. “Believe me, I never imagined it would be part of whatI did, but sometimes the information I need can’t be obtained digitally. And honestly, it’s kinda fun.”

“Is it ever dangerous?” he asked.

“It can be.”

“Do you carry protection?” he asked.

I nodded and he drew back, impressed.

“I’m also trained in self-defense,” I added. “But fortunately, I haven’t had to use either on the job yet.”

“Damn,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. “You are kind of a badass, aren’t you?”

I grinned and shrugged, my pride swelling with his compliment. “Don’t worry, I can protect you if we get into any trouble tonight.”

He laughed as on the other side of the patio, Allison rose from the table, shaking hands with the men. We watched as she quickly walked toward the exit, discarding the fedora and glasses on a table by the door before she slipped into the night.

Laurent nudged me, and I turned to see the pope and the knight headed inside. We grabbed our drinks and followed them past the dance floor into the darkened dining room, across the cheetah print rug to the costume room at the back. “There’s only one entrance to the costume closet,” Laurent said, grabbing my hand to stop me before I could mount the steps.

His palm was rough against mine as he pulled me into the shadows, where we leaned against the wall outside the door, waiting for the men to emerge. We were standing so close, our hips were touching, and again, neither of us moved to pull apart.

“You have calluses,” I commented inanely.

“I lift some weights.” He opened his hand between us, tracing the calluses with his fingers. “Is worse on my fingers.”

He gripped my wrist gently, lifting the sleeve of my robe to trail his fingers down the inside of my arm. Shivers cascaded all the way down my body.

“From the guitar,” he explained. My breath grew shallow as he ran my fingers along his other hand. “Feel the difference?”

I nodded, allowing myself a glance up at him, again grateful for the masks covering our faces. “What kind of music do you play?”

“Everything. Reggae, rock, flamenco.”

I was too hot, I had to get out of these robes, and now that Allison was gone, I didn’t need to worry about anyone recognizing my jumpsuit. I ripped my hat off, handing it to Laurent as I pulled my sorcerer’s costume over my head. I sighed, dropping it to a chair next to me.

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