Page 51 of Wilde Nights in Paradise

“Yeah? What grade?”

“Kindergarten.”

“Sounds like a headache.”

“No, it’s fun. She loves—No, wait.” Cursing under her breath, she corrected herself with as much conviction in her tone as she could muster, “Ilove it.”

“Perfect,” Jude said. “And what about James?”

“He’s….” She thought about it, then smiled evilly up at him. “An accountant.”

“Now that’s just cruel. And c’mon, who would believe I spend my days crunching numbers?” With a hand on her lower back, he guided her out of the dressing room. He waved at the cashier as they exited the store. “What about a shark wrangler?”

Okay. Time to get into character for real. Forcing herself not to study every face in the crowd, she slid and arm around his waist. “My dear husband, the only shark you can wrangle is the plastic one in our pool.”

“Hey.” He stopped, whirled her around, and fitted her against his body. “I wrangled you, didn’t I?” As his lips dipped down to brush hers, he added in a whisper, “You’re talking way too loud and sound like you’re reciting a script. Just relax, babe. Pretend we don’t have anyone after us, and I’m someone you actually love.”

Her stomach sank into her toes. Someone she loved. Oh, yeah, like that was going to be hard, considering the only man she’d ever loved besides her father stood in front of her with his arms tightly around her and concern in his pale blue eyes.

“Okay.” She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat and offered a weak smile. “I can do that. I’ll just picture Robert Downey Jr.”

And like that the worry vanished and his eyes narrowed as a scowl creased his forehead. “YouloveRobert Downey Jr.?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Grumbling under his breath, Jude clasped her hand and guided her into the nighttime party crowd on Duval Street.

Chapter Twenty

Jude waited until Libby excused herself to bed before making the call to his brothers. Even after he peeked in on her and found her curled on her side in the big bed, sound asleep, he still puttered around for another half hour before grabbing his cell phone and stepping out onto the patio. Part of that hesitation was because he didn’t want to scare her more by talking about the nitty-gritty of the mission in front of her. Mostly, he was just putting it off because he knew Reece was going to hit the roof.

Fun, fun.

It was nearly a quarter past one in the morning, but he’d try the office phone first. Reece didn’t have any kind of life, but even if he was at home, he’d have the office cell with him. Greer didn’t trust landlines so all business was conducted on burner phones.

The earlier rain had washed away the humidity in the air, leaving the night clear and cool. For once, all was quiet. He knew the party on Duval Street was probably just now swinging into high gear, but this end of town had called it a night early. No music came from the beach, not even the lone guitar that often strummed through the night until the first rays of morning spread over the ocean.

Jude stayed underneath the portico, sat in one of the wicker chairs, and stared at his phone. Pruitt’s lawyer had left three voice mails. He ignored them, but then scrolled blindly through his missed call list, stalling for time. Man, he really didn’t want to make this call.

Thepat-pat-patof soft paws caught his attention, and he lifted his gaze to see Sam had followed him outside. The big cat stopped in front of him, blinked its green eyes, twitched its tail, and in one mighty leap, landed gracefully on his lap.

“Damn cat,” Jude grumbled, but then heard the rhythmic purr pumping from the animal’s throat, and his heart melted just a bit. So maybe he could forgive the beast for scratching Libby all to hell.

Sam rubbed against his hand still holding the cell phone, almost as if assuring him it would all be okay. He sighed in surrender and scratched the cat’s white chin. “All right, Fuzz Butt. You’re cute. Sorta. But don’t tell Libby I said that. She’d have way too much fun I-told-ya-so-ing me.”

Purring like an outboard motor, Sam walked in a circle, plopped down on Jude’s lap, shot a leg into the air, and proceeded to lick his balls. Or the spot where his balls should have been. Poor animal had been snipped. Jude winced and resisted to urge to reach between his own legs to protect his equipment.

“Yeah, you won major sympathy points there, pal.” He rubbed a hand down the cat’s back, then gave him a light push. “Now get gone. Go cuddle up to Libby. She needs it, and I have a phone call to make.”

As if Sam understood, he jumped down and trotted into the house, still purring. Jude watched until the cat disappeared from sight, then turned his gaze back to the phone. Started to dial. Stopped. Tossed the phone from hand to hand.

“Goddammit.”

He hit speed dial before he could talk himself out of it. It rang twice—once more than usual—and to his surprise, Camden answered, sounding as if he hadn’t been to bed yet.

“You got Greer’s message?” he asked.

The tension seeped out of Jude like water from a sieve. Cam, he could talk to easily without the conversation devolving into a shouting match. “About K-Bar’s disappearance? Yeah. Where did that intel come from?”

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