Page 57 of Scarred Souls

“What?” I snapped, not appreciating her attitude.

“Settle down, Sherlock Holmes. It’s a new moon next week, which means it’ll be a bumper fishing haul. Solo fishermen often get help on those few nights each month because the nets are so heavy.”

“You know what else a new moon is good for?” I leaned forward. “Doing sneaky shit and not being seen.”

“You’re overreacting.” She took another bite.

“We’ll see.”

“I hope you’re not planning on making a scene, Cousin. Your presence is already drawing unwanted attention in the village.”

Sure enough, when I glanced around the restaurant, there were plenty of eyes on us.

“When you messed with my phone last night, did you block Enrique?” Hope stole my beer and took a drink.

As soon as she handed it back, I sipped slowly from the same place her mouth had been a moment before and noticed the way Hope’s gaze remained fixed on my lips. I rested the bottle on the table. “Looks like I did you a favor.”

“Because you think he’s working for the cartel?”

“Because he’s not good enough for you.” No one in this village was. Me included.

She lowered her chin. “You couldn’t have known that last night.”

I lifted one shoulder. “Then maybe I just felt like being an interfering jerk.”

Hope rose from her seat wearing a puzzled expression and collected the half-eaten plate of food. “Just…don’t touch my things.”

20

HOPE

Relieved to be home from work, I kicked off my tennis shoes and sat at the breakfast bar beside Vaughn. He had his laptop open on the counter, ready for our video call with Brandon and Sage. After going through a procedure to set up a secure line, he dialed.

“Come here.” Vaughn gestured me closer with two fingers.

“Why?” His appealing leather-and-tobacco scent already overwhelmed my senses despite the two-foot gap between us. Any nearer and I wouldn’t be able to concentrate at all.

He pointed at the camera image in the top corner of the screen. “They can’t see us both.” Then he reached across and dragged my seat right next to his. “There. That’s better.”

At this range, his body heat invaded my personal space, and I wasn’t mad about it. What I didn’t appreciate was the way it made my heart beat in a strange fast-paced rhythm and my palms begin to sweat.

If I weren’t already stunned at being manhandled, the way Grim’s intense eyes held mine would’ve rendered me just as speechless. The longer he stared, the more uncomfortable I became.

When his gaze dipped to my mouth, I asked, “What is it? Do I have cilantro in my teeth?” I felt around with my tongue but couldn’t find anything.

His head tilted in an inquisitive way. “Maybe I just like looking at you. Is that all right?” He moistened his lips, and that was it. I was done for. Someone needed to scoop my remains from the floor, because I’d melted into a puddle of Hope jelly.

He hadn’t called me pretty or beautiful. All he’d said was that he liked looking at me, and somehow that was more profound than a vain compliment.

I figured this was how guys like him operated. Set the bar so low that when he actually said something nice, it seemed like a goddamn miracle.

I wasn’t falling for it.

So why was I still staring at him like an airhead?

“Um, hey,” came a feminine voice from the laptop.

Shit.

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