Page 16 of Still A Cowboy
Cal strolled along the beachfront, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, the cool air biting at his cheeks. It was early evening, colder than it had been the last few days, dipping into the forties, the kind of cold that made his knee tighten and his breath puff out in short clouds.
The street was quiet. Tourist season had clearly thinned out, just a few stragglers snapping photos of the water and wandering through the shops still clinging to late hours. Some of the windows were already decked out in Halloween decorations, grinning pumpkins and fake cobwebs tangled around display stands.
He took his time, not really in a rush, as he made his way toward the upscale rental house across from the Seaglass Saloon. Curiosity had pulled him out here. He wanted to get a closer look at the back of the place where the masked couple had put on their show the other night.
The house was even fancier up close, big glass windows, a wraparound deck, the kind of place built for people who liked to be noticed. Thecurtains in the second-floor window were drawn tonight.
Cal smirked to himself, and deciding to get a look at the front of the house, he kept walking.
Kept thinking.
Kept trying to tamp down this need building inside him. The need for Willa. Too bad he hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. Not since she bolted from his apartment as if she’d caught on fire and was trying to outrun it. She was probably avoiding him again.
Maybe that was smart.
But smart didn’t mean he approved. Well, his dick didn’t approve anyway. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since she left. That heat between them had sunk in deep, impossible to shake.
And no matter how many times he told himself to stay out of it, to let it go, his gut told him they were nowhere near done.
Cal was about to turn back to go back to his apartment when Fia came bouncing up the footpath, wearing…well, whatever the hell it was. She had on white feathers stuck to a gray hoodie, orange leggings, and a beak perched right in the middle of her forehead.
He blinked. “Are you supposed to be… Edgar, the dive-bombing seagull?”
She struck a proud pose. “Obviously.”
“Why?” he had to ask.
“Halloween party. Someone had to representthe town’s most aggressive citizen.”
Cal chuckled. “You nailed it.” As she adjusted the makeshift wings on her arms, he asked, “Is Willa avoiding me?”
Fia sighed, her energy dipping for the first time. “Yeah. She is.”
A loud screech split the air, and Cal instinctively ducked. Edgar himself swooped low, clipping just over their heads before circling back toward the beach.
Fia jumped aside. “Okay, that was a little too real.”
Cal narrowed his eyes at the bird. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Edgar has strong opinions.”
Cal glanced at Fia’s costume. “Think he objects to you dressing like him?”
She smirked and flapped her arm-wings. “If he does, he’s going to have to deal with it.”
They moved onto the footpath that ran between the beach and the row of businesses and rentals. Edgar followed them from above, his sharp cries echoing like he was tracking their every step.
Cal paused when they reached the front of the fancy house where he’d seen the masked couple, and he frowned when he saw the small sign at the base of the steps. Larkin Property Managers. There was a little picture in the upper corner of the sign that grabbed his attention.
“That’s Brent,” Fia provided, following hisgaze to the photo. “Wish Edgar would dive bomb it and leave a big blob of bird shit on that face.”
Cal found himself wishing the same thing. Even though he’d never met the man, he didn’t have any good feelings about him.
Shifting his attention, he looked up, studying the big windows and the drawn curtains. “You know who’s renting it?” he asked.
Fia shook her head. “Nope. Place gets booked all the time though. Big money. But I haven’t seen anyone come and go recently.”
Well, he’d seen someone come, but that wasn’t in the sense of exiting the place.
