Act it Out (A Hailey Webb Mystery, Volume 2)

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Act it Out (A Hailey Webb Mystery, Volume 2) Page 21

by Deany Ray


  Soon, my new friends and I all had steaming bowls of chowder, served up in plastic clam-shaped bowls complete with googly eyes. My new waitress friends settled in at an empty table while I went to grab some beer for the three of us. A band was playing nearby; I thought I recognized the lead singer from high school algebra. I didn’t think he sounded bad. A few people were dancing in the street as the band sang some oldies.

  As I stood in the long line for drinks, I felt someone touch my shoulder. I turned to see the pair of piercing blue eyes that mesmerized me earlier on that same day.

  “It’s you again,” he said with a gentle smile. “You must be new in town.”

  “Actually, this is where I grew up. I was just gone—for a while. Well, not completely gone. I came for visits but not so often. I’m here now…visiting.” This was embarrassing. Just shut up, Charlie. Maybe the best thing would be to nod and smile; that way it would take longer for my awkwardness to show.

  He winked. “That’s good news for me. Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into you again. Hopefully not with a plate of fries.” His eyes crinkled when he laughed. Which was kind of adorable. “Isn’t this a magic Monday? Crossing paths with a beautiful girl two times in one day.” He smiled the easy smile of a man who knew he was attractive.

  What a flirt this guy was. But he also was…deliciously hot.

  “Enjoy your night,” he told me, brushing his hair out of his face, then lifting his hand up in a wave. “I’ll keep an eye out for you if the band starts in with a slow song. The night is very young.” And with that, he was gone. I admired his long and muscular legs as they carried him into the crowd. And suddenly, I felt very, very warm. Surely, the reason for it had to be the mild air of that lovely July night. Yeah, that was probably it.

  When I reached the bar, the bartender gave me three beers and my change along with a folded note.

  “What’s this?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Just some note. Some guy left it here. Said to hand it to you when you came up in the line.”

  I moved to the counter’s edge where I could put the beers down and unfold the note. You could say I was confused—if not terrified—when I read the note.

  Go back home to Boston. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.

  JAMMED

  GRAB YOUR COPY HERE

 

 

 


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