“The bounty hunter is messing with your head?”
“He’s like eating a spicy breakfast burrito after years of having oatmeal for breakfast.”
He wraps his arm around me tighter. “Dammit, right?”
“Yup. Dammit.”
“The worst part is…I like him. I like him. At first I thought he was flat out mean, but now I just find him honest. And when I think back to the dates I’ve been on with potential husband material, none of those conversations seem remotely authentic. I like being around Myles because I know exactly what I’m getting. He doesn’t lie. Ever. And so when he says something meaningful or kind or complimentary, it’s like…Christmas morning. That sounds so stupid—”
Someone clears their throat behind us.
My heart flies into my mouth, denial like a red-hot poker between my ribs.
Intuition is already telling me who just made that chugging sound.
And I’m right. It’s Myles.
The bounty hunter towers behind us, boots sunk partially into the sand. Scowling.
That scowl is all for me, but his eyes? Those are soft. Surprised. Vulnerable.
“Hey, man,” Jude says, finally breaking the awkward silence. Myles heard me. He obviously heard everything I said. Do I just adopt a new identity and join a commune now or what? How is this kind of thing usually handled? “Busy morning?”
Myles jerks out of his trance. Sort of. He’s still looking at me. “What?”
“I said…” Jude isn’t even bothering to suppress his smile. “Have you had a busy morning stalking my sister?”
“Protecting,” he bites off.
“Right.” Jude splits a look between the two of us. “Me and Taylor were just about to head up to the house and make some breakfast burritos.”
“Funny,” I mutter, finally gathering the wherewithal to stand up, dusting the sand off my butt. I face Myles reluctantly and it takes me a few beats to realize what’s different about him. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Usually they are confidently crossed or gesturing or making notes in his phone. But they just seem kind of lost in space right now. My embarrassment over being caught mooning over him—out loud—dissipates slightly. “Do you want to have breakfast burritos with us?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I blink at his abrupt tone. Nod. Start walking toward the stairwell.
“I have a meeting at the police station later this morning. Ballistics report is finally in,” Myles explains, following me. “I need to get my ducks in a row first.”
“I understand,” I say, passing him a smile.
“I can’t tell if you mean that.”
“Our version of a breakfast burrito is basically everything that was in the taco last night, except the tortilla is soft and we add eggs,” Jude says. “Taylor never lets leftovers go to waste.”
“You can’t tell if I mean what?” I ask Myles, the three of us stopping at the base of the stairs.
The bounty hunter plants both hands on his hips, searches the sand, as if trying to find an explanation. “It seems like you’re not okay with me skipping burritos.”
I’m completely confused. “So what?”
Now he’s getting irritated. “So I just want to commence my day without you mad at me, Taylor. Is that so much to ask?”
“Since when do you care if I’m mad at you?”
“Hell if I know!” he roars.
“Usually we add avocado to the burritos, but we didn’t find a ripe one at the market, so…” Jude scratches his eyebrow. “No avocado today.”
Myles is back to having no idea what to do with his hands. I know what I would like him to do with them, but I’m really beginning to think letting this man touch me was self-destructive from the start because now it’s all I can think about.
“What are you thinking about now?” Myles steps closer, narrowing his eyes and searching my face. “I can tell it’s not good.”
“My thoughts are private, Myles. Go get your ducks in a row.”
“Fine. I’ll come for the fucking burritos.”
I throw up my hands. “Oh my God.”
“We tried adding refried beans once, but that’s a lot to handle first thing in the morning,” Jude says, patting his stomach. Several beats pass. “Hey, can you two stop blocking the stairs so I can get the hell out of here?”
I step to the right. “Sorry.”
Jude takes off hobbling as fast as possible on his injured foot.
“What is with you this morning?” I ask Myles.
He rakes a hand down his face, drawing my attention to the dark circles beneath his eyes, the weariness bracketing his mouth. “Everything was fine until I heard what you said about me.”
My cheeks heat. I already strongly suspected he’d overheard my confessions to Jude, but having it confirmed turns my face into a furnace. “I don’t understand. It was difficult hearing that you have some positive qualities?”
“I don’t know what it was.”
“See? Honest. I like that about you. So what? Take me to court.”
He looks like he’s chewing an invisible stick. “Well I like that you’re stubborn and compassionate. And brave, even though you don’t see it.”
Those words are a warm hug. A tight one that grows more and more snug until I have a hard time breathing. “Thank you.”
With a succinct nod, he paces away from me to stare out at the ocean. It’s incredible, really, what has been unlocked inside of me since the start of this trip. First, I realized I’m a lot stronger and more resilient than I ever knew. And now? Right this very moment? This blunt, infuriating human is confirming it. What I’ve secretly hoped is true about myself all along—and I’m becoming more determined than ever to embrace those more unshakeable parts of me.
What do I want?
Do I want to give up on this case I’ve become invested in? No.
My Killer Vacation
Tessa Bailey's books
- Baiting the Maid of Honor_a Wedding Dare novel
- Protecting What's His
- Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)
- Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)
- Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)
- Crashed Out (Made in Jersey, #1)
- Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
- Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)
- Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)