“Stop it, Althea. You're stunning,” Luna said immediately and I reached out to squeeze her arm. My best friend, always championing for me.
“Right, I get it. Statuesque goddess and all that, but seriously, why for me?” I asked Beau, pinning him with my stare.
Beau shrugged. “I don't know. Instinct? Bartender intuition? I'll introduce you guys when they get up from dinner. You'll like him. On top of being drop dead yum, he's actually an interesting guy and so far doesn't seem to be full of himself.”
“Who’s the guy next to him?” Luna asked and I turned again, pretending to casually glance through the restaurant. I'd missed the handsome guy sitting next to Cash as I'd been momentarily blinded by Cash's raw punch of hotness. The man to his right looked to be Cuban or Puerto Rican, with warm brown skin and brown hair slicked back from his face. A gold chain glinted from the deep V of his silk dress shirt.
“He looks like a Miami club guy,” I said, turning back to Luna.
“He might be; I think he works with Theodore,” Beau said.
“He's cute,” Luna offered.
“You think? He's a little too sleek for me,” I murmured, refusing to look back at the table – then immediately looking back at the table. This time, Cash met my eyes and I felt my cheeks flush. Feeling bold, I nodded at him and a smile split his handsome face.
“Oh lord,” I breathed, turning back to bury my face in the seltzer water that Beau had pushed across the table.
“Maybe take him in small doses,” Luna said, running a soothing hand down my arm.
“I'd take him in any dose,” Beau observed and I snorted.
“Okay, enough with all this, tell me where you are thinking of setting up this restaurant,” I pleaded, desperately wanting to change the subject.
“Well, you didn't hear it from me, but Luca is closing his deli,” Beau said, leaning over and keeping his voice low.
“No!” Luna and I both said simultaneously. Luca's Deli had been serving up sandwiches and the best pickles in town since I was a kid. I couldn't imagine Tequila Key without him.
“There are other investors who are looking at the space, though, because it has a prime beach spot. I'm not sure if we'll get it. That being said, I have two other options for spaces, so I'll be okay either way.”
“Wait, but, why?” I asked, still focused on Luca making the decision to leave. He was as much a staple of this town as the faded Tequila sign out by the highway.
“Supposedly, Luca met a special lady friend. Special lady friend wants to travel Europe. Luca didn't think twice about it.” Beau shrugged again, and then moved to fill a drink order.
“Luca's leaving, wow,” I said, turning to Luna. Sadness crossed her beautiful features before she snickered.
“Luca wants to get lucky,” she said.
“Shhh,” I said, shushing her. “That's like talking about our grandfather!”
Her shoulders shook with laughter and I couldn't help but join her.
“Good for him,” I said, lifting my seltzer in salute, before clinking the glass against Luna's. She sipped her Moscow Mule, served in a copper mug, and then straightened and turned to me.
“Okay, let's get back to why we came here. Tell me what you think is going on,” Luna said, her eyes tracking my face.
“I don't know. I really don't. But, get this – my mother emailed me a warning. And…” I reached in my purse and pulled out the cloth bag that Miss Elva had given me. Luna drew in a sharp breath. You didn't have to tell a witch what a gris-gris bag was for.
“Two warnings,” Luna breathed.
“I know. I just wish I could see why. I just have this super heavy sense of something…I don't know. It makes me antsy. But I'm getting no visuals,” I said, pointing at my head for emphasis.
“Let's do a seeing spell at the shop tomorrow when you get in. We'll see if we can clear the fog out,” Luna decided.
“Yeah, I could use the help,” I said, ashamed to admit that my typically formidable gift had failed me.
“It's okay, hon, you can't always see everything. Even your mom misses things once in a while. If she had seen something important, she would've given you details,” Luna said.
“You're right, Abigail rarely holds back,” I said, feeling somewhat comforted. No way would my mom have seen something that was going to harm me and not give me a heads up. Unless…
“But it goes against her rules to interfere with a vision,” I said, reminding Luna of one of the rules that most psychics, including myself, practiced. No matter the vision, one shouldn't interfere with Fate.
Because Fate always finds a way.
“I suspect she'd break that rule in your case,” Luna said dryly, taking another sip from her mug. I watched a bead of water drip down the side, missing her dress.
Naturally.
“So we wait,” I said.
“We wait.”
Chapter Four
“Hello,” a voice – like whiskey-laced sin – said at my side and I felt a small ripple of lust in my gut.
I turned to see Channing, I mean Cash, leaning casually on the bar, his demeanor open and friendly, his eyes assessing us.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
“Hi, I'm Luna and this is my friend Althea,” Luna said, jumping in to cover my awkwardness.
It was hard for me to look at him. My heartbeat had picked up and I was certain that my pulse did a rat-a-tat-tat tempo in my wrist.
“Nice to meet you both,” Cash said. “I'm Cash Williams and I've just moved to Tequila Key.”
“Moved?” I said, finding my voice, turning to look at him for real this time.
“Yes, moved. Is that okay?” Cash said lightly, crinkling what I could now see were gray eyes at me. Of course they were gray. My favorite. I sighed.
“Why the sigh?” Cash said, calling me out.
“You're too good-looking for your own good,” I blurted out and then slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Thea!” Beau chided from across the bar, but Cash chuckled. I'm quite certain that every woman in the bar went a little lightheaded at the sound.
“I could say the same of you,” Cash said, fixing his eyes on me.
“Me?” I said, whipping my head around to look at Luna. “Her, you mean.”
Beau shook his head at me in disgust from across the bar.
“Well, both of you are lovely, of course,” Cash said gallantly.
“Ignore her,” Luna said, “you'll get used to her mouth.”
I blushed even more furiously, thinking about Cash getting used to my mouth.
Beau choked and turned away, but I could see his shoulders shaking at Luna's choice of words.
“I find her to be charming,” Cash said smoothly, covering the double entendre of Luna's words easily.
“So, Cash, you're an investor?” I asked brightly, trying to push thoughts of my mouth on Cash's from my brain.
“Among other things,” Cash said with a smile.
“What other things?” I immediately demanded. I needed to get a read on this guy if he was going to be working with Beau. My protective instincts kicked in and I narrowed my eyes at Cash, all business now.
“I own a few restaurants straight out. I've invested in others. I've worked in private security as well, which pairs nicely with protecting investment properties and such,” Cash said, a dimple winking from his cheek. I studied him and dropped my shields.
And immediately blushed.
The man wasn't lying.
About his business or the fact that he found me charming. I was surprised to find a healthy lust directed my way. Snapping my shields back up, I trained my eyes back on Beau where he was serving a customer.
“Good to hear. Beau is the best in this business. And his heart is pure gold. Remember that,” I warned.
Cash held his hands up.
“Hey, I know that. Why do you think I want to invest in him? He's great.”
“You know he's gay, right?” I said, wanting to see how
much that would matter to Cash. Not everyone always picked that up right away about Beau.
“I'm aware,” Cash said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“Just checking. Some people have issues with that,” I said simply.
“My brother's gay. And he's my best friend. No issues,” Cash said, raising his hands in the air.
“Did I hear you say you have a gay brother?” Beau piped up from across the room, proving that he did, indeed, hear everything in his bar.
Cash laughed and turned his head over his shoulder.
“Yes, and he's single. I'll bring him down next month,” Cash called and Beau fanned his face, causing Cash to chuckle again.
Was there anything wrong with this man?
Remembering who his dining companions were, I looked at Cash again.
“Why were you eating dinner with Theodore?”
“He's on the board of, like, everything in this town. We'll need permits and such. It's a good idea to make nice,” Cash said, reading me perfectly.
“Sounds like you are a very smart businessman,” Luna said, and reached for her purse. “I'll just be on my way.”
I turned and grabbed her arm.
“No, don't go. You've only had a drink.”
“I want to prepare stuff for our thing in the morning,” Luna said quietly and shot a quick smile at Cash. “Nice to meet you.” She waved to Beau on her way out and was gone faster than I could say don't leave me with this hot man who I have no idea what to do with.
“What thing in the morning?” Cash asked, sliding onto a stool next to me. I swear to God I could feel his heat, and I did my best to concentrate on his words.
“Um, just a thing at our shop. Nothing,” I said.
Cash just raised an eyebrow at me. “You own a business?” he prompted.
I blew out a breath. Ah, well, it was fun while it lasted. This was typically the part where the men went running.
“Yes, I'm a psychic and I do tarot card readings and other services for my clientele. Luna offers healing potions and other home remedies on her side of the shop.” I smiled brightly at him, waiting for the typical flash of fear or confusion.
“Far out,” Cash said with a smile.
“Far out?” I echoed.
“Yeah, how neat. I'd love to learn more about it. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?” He leaned in, his eyes radiating his interest, his heat all but making me dizzy.
“You want to take me to dinner?” I asked, wondering if he'd just heard me correctly.
“Yes.”
“You? Mr. Investor. Want to have dinner with the local psychic?” I asked again, wanting to make sure we were on the same page.
“And why wouldn't he?” Beau demanded, coming to stand in front of us, his hands on his hips.
“Yes, why wouldn't I?” Cash asked, turning to study me with curiosity.
“It's, um, it's just that not a lot of guys are fans of my talent,” I said, whipping my finger in the air in a circular motion by my head.
“It doesn't bother me.” Cash shrugged, casually dismissing it. I also shrugged my shoulders. If he didn't have a problem, then I wasn't going to make it a problem.
“Okay then,” I said, watching his face.
“Great, it's a date! Can I pick you up at your place?” Cash asked and Beau rattled off my address before I could even respond.
“Wonderful. Looking forward to tomorrow, Althea,” Cash said as he leaned in and brushed a kiss over my cheek before sauntering out.
“I…I…” I'd damn near lost my voice. Words were something that I was rarely without and I gaped at Beau. He hooted in laughter at the expression on my face.
“Told you I had a man for you, Althea Rose. Looks like you are getting a well-deserved treat. Served up on a yum-yum platter,” Beau murmured, his eyes following Cash down the walkway.
“I can't believe this. I can't date guys like him! He looks like a model. Or something…” I began, totally flustered.
“Stop it this instant, Althea. Where is the badass woman that I've known my whole life? Who fights for her friends, says what's on her mind, and fills out a dress with every inch of her jaw-dropping curves? Hmm? Stop acting like a wilting flower and embrace it, girlfriend,” Beau ordered.
“Yes, sir,” I said meekly and slid from my stool, leaning over to hook my arm around his neck. “I love you.”
“You too. Now don't come here for dinner tomorrow night or I'll be hanging on your every word. Make him take you someplace out of town. Or better yet, cook at your house.”
Laughter bubbled up inside as I leaned back and met Beau's eyes.
“Oh shit. You don't cook. Order takeout. I'll drop it off.”
“Stop. I'll get some appetizers. He can figure out dinner. Now, I have to go, I'm getting up at the crack of dawn to go diving with Trace.”
“Hmmm,” Beau trilled, moving a little away.
I snagged his arm.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Looks like you have two hotties hanging on you,” Beau said, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Trace?” I said, genuinely shocked. Trace was just a buddy of mine. We'd always had a platonic friendship centered on our love of diving.
“I see a love triangle shaping up,” Beau called and waved me out, turning to help another customer.
Conversation over.
Which left only about a thousand questions darting through my head.
So much for sleep tonight, I thought, fighting to keep a silly grin off my face.
Chapter Five
Morning came far too quickly after a night of spotty sleep. I grumbled my way through the morning ritual Hank and I had established, almost burning my hand with hot coffee as I poured the liquid into a to-go container filled with ice. Dreams of Cash and Trace, and not necessarily apart, had kept me up and caused a blush to heat my face again this morning.
“It's been too long,” I said out loud, knowing it was time for me to date again. It appeared I had been ignoring a few of the more basic needs in my life.
“Hank! New toy!” I called, pulling a new squeaky ball from my toy drawer. Hank's snorts echoed in the room as he raced across the floor and skidded to a halt at my feet. I sighed again, knowing that my wood floors would never be the same after having a dog, but one look at Hank's squishy face made me not give a damn.
“Ball!” I shouted and tossed the ball across the room, laughing as Hank went tumbling to scramble across the floor to retrieve it. Joyous squeaks greeted me and I smiled, knowing that would hold his interest for at least part of the day. I'd be back in a few hours to change after my dives and to let him out. Scanning the room for anything that I had missed, I grabbed the mesh bag filled with my dive gear and slipped the straps over my shoulders before stepping out onto the front porch. At just past 6:00 in the morning the light was low but the heat was already kicking in.
“There go my curls,” I murmured, knowing my hair would poof out with the humidity. I hopped on my beach cruiser and pedaled my way down our street, turning left to follow a small bike path that would carry me directly to the wharf where Trace's dive boat was docked.
Scuba diving was in my blood. My parents had put a regulator in my mouth around the age of seven, and I'd never looked back. The absolute best way to start my day was 115 feet deep in water, taking pictures of turtles or whatever else crossed my path. Underwater photography had been a natural extension of my love of all things ocean, and I still surprised myself with how well my pictures sold. At first it had been a passion, but after people kept asking me for prints, I'd invested in some serious gear and now turned out some pretty phenomenal shots, if I do say so myself. Each year, my reputation grew and my two careers were now neck-and-neck for which brought in the most money.
Being a psychic certainly paid the bills, but I did it more out of habit than anything. I hadn't chosen to be a psychic; it had chosen me. Imagining life in a cubicle, though, was enough to make me forever grateful for the opportuni
ties I did have. A wide smile lit my face as I wheeled my bike to the rack outside the entrance to the dock.
Here the wharf bustled with activity at this early hour. Between dive boats getting ready for their clients to deep-sea fishing boats stocking their bait, making money from the ocean was a way of life in the Keys.
“Thea.” A crew member of a threadbare fishing boat nodded at me and I waved at the crew as they lined up their poles in the holders that ranged along the back of the boat. I was a regular on these docks and continued to nod and wave at people as I walked down the floating planked dock until I reached Trace's smaller dive boat at the end. Painted white, with a neon red strip running along the hull, Trace's boat was leaner and faster than many of the larger scuba diving boats. Because of this, he kept his dive groups small and was able to take his clientele to some of the best places that were not overcrowded with larger groups of divers. Trace had gotten his nickname from his love of drawing, but it had followed him from art school to the Keys where he was also known to be one of the top search-and-rescue divers in the area. Whether for looking for stranded boats or searching for missing persons, Trace's was always one of the first boats called after the Coast Guard. Oftentimes, he would even get to a stranded boat far before the Coast Guard could.
“Whooeee, look what the cat dragged in.” An exaggerated southern drawl greeted me from the back of the boat and I laughed as I slipped my shoes off and stepped onto the gleaming white deck of the boat. At six foot two, Trace towered over me, all lean muscle and tattooed skin. His hair, bleached from the sun, was just long enough to pull back in a small nub at the base of his head. Shades covered what I knew to be deep blue eyes, and teeth flashed white in his face as he sized me up.
“Rough night?”
I blushed and looked away, moving to slide my dive bag onto the bench where Trace had already hooked up my buoyancy control device, or BCD in diver-speak, to a tank.
“I didn't sleep well,” I said over my shoulder, forcing the thoughts of my naughty dreams from my mind. “Water will wake me up.”
“Up for a current dive? The water along the south wall is prime and we're bound to see some larger stuff,” Trace said, firing up the engines. I moved past him to where the front of the boat was tied and jumped on the dock to un-loop the rope from a hook. I held the rope as Trace reversed the boat, moving slowly so I could jump on the bow at the last minute.
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