broke off the piece and examined it beneath the light. “It doesn’t look that bad, but you never know with old houses.”
“You never know.”
Matt didn’t know if it was the damp chill seeping into his bones or the almost feral look in the lady’s eyes, but he wanted out of here.
He placed a hand on Kylie’s arm to draw her back from the abyss. “I didn’t even ask if you were okay. How’s your shoulder?”
She rotated it. “Fine, a little sore.”
“Bet you could use a drink. I know I could.” Actually, he could use a few, but he never overindulged…ever. At least not with alcohol. But other pleasures? Kylie’s skin felt smooth and warm to his touch, and she hadn’t even jerked away from him. Maybe saving her life had given him some stature in her eyes. God knows, he hadn’t had any before. She’d whipped right past him in the elevator, barely turning when she’d muttered her apology for bumping his shoulder.
“A—a drink?” She’d pivoted on her toes to face him and with her eyes wide, she looked ready for flight.
“Yeah, you know, that wet stuff we pour down our throats?”
Her long lashes dropped over her eyes and she finally shook him off. “I wouldn’t have guessed drinking was high on your list of fun activities, given your background.”
A slow smile curved his lips. She remembered more about him than she let on, but if she thought that shot was enough to deter his sudden fascination with her, she was as loony as her mom was reported to be.
“One drink. Our hotel even has a bar in the lobby. So we can have a drink and go to bed.”
Her lashes flew open.
He kept the smile on his face and shoved one hand in the pocket of his jeans. “You in your bed. Me in mine.”
She glanced up at the railing where both her and her mother’s bodies had dangled and shrugged. “I could use a drink.”
Matt followed the taillights of Kylie’s car back to the Coast Highway and then through the downtown streets of Coral Cove. He was probably way out of line renewing his acquaintance with Kylie. He had a job to do and couldn’t afford the distraction.
His hands tightened on the handlebar of his Harley. The last time he’d mixed pleasure with work, it had ended badly. But he had no intention of even telling Kylie about his business in Coral Cove. For all he knew, she’d be on her way out of town tomorrow.
He could enjoy a drink with a pretty girl, couldn’t he? He didn’t have to tell her his life story. Or listen to hers. Or bed her. Not that he’d get that lucky with Kylie.
He didn’t know why she’d agreed to a drink since half the time at Columbella she looked like she wanted to do him bodily harm. Must’ve been shaken by that fall. And who could blame her? If she hadn’t cracked her skull on that floor, she would’ve at least broken a leg or two.
Fate brought him to Columbella tonight. She must’ve been on her way here when he ran into her on the elevator. He’d practically followed her over. Maybe things were looking up. About damned time.
While she pulled into the guest parking lot, Matt parked his motorcycle in front of the hotel and kicked down the stand. He pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm as she strolled toward him.
She leveled a finger at his bike. “Still riding motorcycles.”
“For disliking me in high school, you sure do remember a lot about me.”
“You were kind of hard to miss. I think you reached your full height in ninth grade, didn’t you?”
He opened the hotel door for her. “Nah, I was probably about six two in ninth grade—still had a few inches to go. You were hardly inconspicuous yourself.”
“Me?” She smiled for the first time that night, a slow, sultry lift of one side of her mouth. “I always thought I flew under the radar.”
Kylie weaved through the tables in the hotel lobby bar and made a beeline for the grinning bartender. Matt would’ve preferred one of those little tables with the nuts in a plastic cup, but Kylie settled on a bar stool and planted her elbows on the shiny mahogany.
“I’ll have a glass of chardonnay, anything from California, and he’ll have…” She raised one eyebrow in his direction without much interest.
“I’d like a beer. What do you have on tap?”
“We have a good microbrew from Avila Beach.”
“Sounds good.”
Matt perched on the edge of the bar stool next to Kylie’s. “Do you want to sit at a table?”
“I’m good here.”
She’d been the one hanging from a banister, so he let it go. But he didn’t plan on letting her off easy. “What brings you back to Coral Cove and what were you doing at Columbella House?”
She smiled her thanks at the bartender and took a sip of the light gold liquid from her glass. She considered Matt over the rim of that glass. “Isn’t it obvious what I was doing at Columbella?”
Matt took a swig of beer and wrapped his hands around the mug. Was this a trick question? Any ideas he’d had about this encounter being an easy, sexy flirtation just fell flat. Kylie didn’t do easy…but she had the sexy part down to a T.
“Uh, were you exploring like me?”
She snorted into her wine and he found it oddly appealing. “Come on, Matt. You know my mom killed herself in that house, hung herself from that very landing.”
“So were you paying your respects? Putting old demons to rest?”
“Old demons.” Her nostrils flared and she flung back her long, black hair looking…witchy.
Like a totally hot, sexy witch.
“I guess you could say that.” She tossed back half the wine and turned toward him, her knees bumping his thigh. “You know I’m a psychic, don’t you?”
He choked on his beer, and it came fizzing out his nose. He grabbed a cocktail napkin and hid behind it. Had he known that? The kids in high school used to say Kylie could read minds or tell fortunes, but he just figured they’d said that because Kylie’s mom was some kind of gypsy fortune-teller. He just thought the mom was nuts. That’s what Matt’s dad used to say anyway—not that you could ever trust anything that came out of the old man’s mouth.
“You didn’t know?” Kylie hunched forward, her hands on her knees, the tips of her long hair brushing his thighs.
To hell with the fortune-telling. He wanted to kiss her right now.
She backed off and took another sip of her wine. Must’ve read his thoughts on that one, but it wouldn’t take much of a psychic to figure out his intentions since the crotch of his jeans had suddenly tightened and he was pretty sure he’d been staring at her luscious pink lips.
