Page 3 of It Takes a Thief
“Maybe Cole has a more personal interest in our Addie,” Brighton murmurs, her red lips curving in a smirk. With her striking jade eyes and sultry personality, Brighton is our secret weapon—The Sex Bomb. She could seduce a eunuch with a single flip of her raven hair.
“Yeah, he’s interested in throwing my ass in jail.”
“I have no doubt he’d be up for cuffing you,” Brighton says, and I snort back a laugh.
“I said the same thing to Knox!” We bump knuckles.
“It’s not funny.” Addie frowns. “I just talked to The Man, who said Vaughn is stirring up trouble. Now I have fires to put out.”
The Man is our mysterious handler who finds us jobs. Lately, our jobs have been a little different. More legit.
“I’m sure Vaughn will let you use his hose,” Ryder says, and Addie’s eyes practically bulge out of her head.
“What?” she chokes.
“His hose. You know, to put out all those fires,” Ryder clarifies, and we all crack up.
Well, Addie doesn’t. “Keep it up and you assholes can all swim home,” she grumbles, grabbing her suitcase handle.
It’s all in good-natured fun, and she doesn’t stay mad for long. After exchanging goodbyes and promising to keep themupdated on my current job, I watch them walk out and get in the waiting SUV. This is the first time I’ve officially been alone and on my own with Merritt.Should be interesting.
“Linc?”
My head turns, and speak of the devil. Merritt stands there looking every inch the royal princess she is. Her hair is pulled back in some kind of fancy twist, and gold, strappy sandals peek out from beneath the hem of a long floral-print dress. My head-to-toe perusal stalls at her small, pink-painted toenails and desire hits me like a punch in the gut. I want to lay her down on the nearest piece of furniture and suck each lovely one.
“Hmm?” I manage to croak.
“We’re having a late supper on the patio, if you’d like to join us?”
Normally, I’d say no. But I’m hungry. And when royalty extends an invite, you accept. Basic courtesy 101.
“Sure. Thanks.”
I walk beside Merritt through several rooms until we reach the back of the house where large glass doors have been pulled back to allow the warm breeze inside. We step outside and the back veranda glows with soft lighting. Her parents are already seated, each with a glass of wine in front of them. The table is covered with a spread of food, and I’m definitely hungry, but as I look from one strange dish to the next, my appetite cools off fast.
I automatically sit down next to Merritt, and when a server walks over with a bottle of wine, I lay a hand over my glass. “No, thank you.”
I never drink on the job. And when I do indulge, it’s not on some fruity sour grapes. No way. I’m a Heineken man through and through.
The atmosphere feels stilted as I wait for Merritt to take some food. But she doesn’t, so I hesitate, not wanting to seem rude or uncouth. Besides, I’m wary of trying new things. Ryder teases me about having the palate of a ten-year old.
“Please, help yourself, Mr. Decker,” Eliza finally says, and I slowly reach out and serve myself a heaping side of fresh fruit. Seems safe.
When it comes to eating, I’m a fuss-ass. Give me a burger and fries or a pizza any day over whatever exotic local dishes I’m seeing. They eat a lot of fishy stuff here, and I’m not about to start eating seafood despite being on an island. I do grab a piece of flatbread, though. It’s covered with some sort of nuts, possibly oranges and what looks like raisins. Seems palatable enough.
“Did you call Jeffrey?” her mom asks, and my gaze snaps up in the middle of flicking a raisin off my flatbread.
Who the fuck is Jeffrey?My gaze slants over to Merritt, who shifts in her chair.
“No, I didn’t,” she calmly states, sliding her plate forward and folding her hands on the table.
“It’s rude not to reach out to him while you’re home, Merritt. Especially since you’ll be engaged soon,” her father states.
I choke mid-swallow and slam a closed fist against my chest. Why was I never informed she had a boyfriend? And where is this so-called, soon-to-be-fiancé?
Merritt sends me a concerned look and lightly touches my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I mutter. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s beautiful, and a goddamn princess. Why wouldn’t she have a boyfriend?
