Page 118 of Somebody's Watching Me
“If it pours, I’m guessing we’ll get soaked, thanks to that dress.”
They cut their way through the crowd to the bar sitting in the rear corner of the promenade. Their number one rule anytime they had to come to a Fairweather event was to enjoy a quiet drink together before diving into the mandatory socializing. “I’m used to being wet whenever you’re around.”
Liam stopped abruptly, the horrified look on his face making her want to melt into the pavement and straight into hell where the heat there couldn’t possibly come as close to the burn in her cheeks.
“Are you,” he blinked a few times as if he couldn’t quite process what she’d just said, “attempting to flirt?”
Of course, she was trying to flirt, but damn it, she was five years out of practice. With only the romance books Annabeth loaned her as a guide, she had obviously missed the mark by a long shot.
“Uh, no?”
A smile unfurled at the corner of his mouth, and then the other half joined. It was a slow progression, but with it, her Liam returned.
“Yes, you are,” he argued, his grin turning her to mush. “That was flirting.”
“I promise it was not.”
“And it was bad flirting. Like almost as bad as when we first met.”
Pretending to be offended, she gasped and clutched her invisible pearls. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She really didn’t. When he first came to Haven, there had been so many lame lines falling out of her mouth that she’d forgotten exactly what was said.
“Come on, you weirdo.” He took her hand, and they made their way to the bar. “Let’s get our drinks.”
Security cameras tracked them as they went. Positioned throughout the area, each lens zoomed in on their location.
“Is he watching?”
Liam kept his face blank, shaking his head slightly as Rowan’s voice came through her earpiece. “That’s me. Just checking to make sure we’re good.”
The crowd was a minefield of the outrageous. Aliens, witches, and even a giant man baby clad in a diaper blocked their way.
“I didn’t think people would take the dressing up part seriously,” she shouted at Liam over the music, dodging an enormous pair of fairy wings as best she could. “I guess I was wrong.”
He ducked when someone in a balloon animal costume turned too fast, and he was almost taken out by the tail. “This is insane.”
“The man baby propositioned me when we got here,” Izzy’s voice said. She and Abe were sitting at one of the tables outside the winery. “If I can survive that, you can survive deathby balloon, Cohen.”
Making it to the bar, Liam ordered, already knowing what she wanted. Frozen drinks were for vacations, red wines for quiet nights in, and whites for business.
Passing her the wine, he guided them to where the pavement and greenery ended at the sandy shoreline. With the sun fully set, the white-capped waves crashing on the beach flashed every so often, the only sign of life in the night.
“Hollingsdale PD is here,” he said, settling her at his side. “They’re not familiar with handling something of this nature, but the second I said Fairweather, they all jumped at the chance to help. There should be a total of four spread in and around the party.”
Hollingsdale, the town built off the Fairweather name. It started as a small, sleepy place sitting on the edge of the bay, but once the Fairweathers moved their operations from Haven House further east, the area prospered. Not as large as Port Michaelson, but enough to where the residents remembered that debt over a hundred years later.
“They’re going to work shifts at Samuel’s place, and occasionally Haven once Selah leaves tomorrow.”
“We’re really spread thin, aren’t we?”
“Dangerously so.”
Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m not picking up anything on the feeds.”
“I guess we’re not giving him a good enough show.” Liam pulled her closer, which she didn’t mind. “I’m going to kiss you and I want you to make it look good.”
“Okay, bu—“
