Page 31 of Him Lessons

Also, fifty was a bit of an exaggeration.

Focusing on the swirls of dark ink covering one of the man’s biceps, Andy frowned as something else occurred to her. Luke’s ire about those photos didn’t make much sense given they’d all been taken of Kyle. It would really only makes sense if—

Andy’s brain screeched to a halt, head jerking up as realization dawned. “Wait, are you saying Kyle works here too?”

This was met with more suspicion as Luke scrutinized her through dark, earthy-green eyes. Eyes that were very much like his sister’s, only with a hint of redness in the whites.

Maybe the bloodshot look was because he was so aggravated with Andy at this point. Or maybe it was because he’d been the one toking the reefer she’d sniffed in Mary’s office earlier. Or maybe he was just plain tired. Needless to say, Andy wasn’t about to ask him if he needed any Visine to get the red out when he still hadn’t answered her first question.

What felt like another trillion seconds of awkward silence stretched between them before Luke finally spoke. “No. Kyle doesn’t work here. He works at a nightclub called the Sin Spot one block away.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling slightly deflated.

“But he owns both locations.”

Pulse spiking right back to life, Andy’s gaze swung to the door as though she might suddenly findhimstanding there. Her Henry.

No, not her Henry.

HerKyle.

Her Kyle who owned a nightclub.

Andy grimaced.

Geez, did it have to be that?

Well, maybe she could forgive him this one little thing. Nobody was perfect, after all. Maybe she could get used to all the loud music and overpowering smells. In really, really small doses.

Mulling this over, Andy felt the weight of Luke’s gaze, and when she looked back at him, she found his hostility towards her had waned significantly. Now he just looked incredulous.

“You’re telling me you didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know,” Andy cried, shoulders rising defensively as she stared at the sand dollar screened on his shirt. “Why would I take a twenty-something surfer dude with a ‘BUM’ beach bag for some kind of real estate tycoon?”

“Andy” — Luke said her name with a heavy note of how-could-you-not-know-this disbelief — “thatsurfer dudeis a Taylor-Vaughn.”

Oh.

She’d heard about the Taylor-Vaughns from her father.

They were rich.

No, not just rich.

Andy’s family was “just rich.”

The Taylor-Vaughns were the kind of obscenely wealthy family few people actually knew buteveryoneknewaboutbecause their names were posted on everything from pediatric wings in hospitals to… well… nightclubs called the Sin Spot, apparently.

The front door tinkled again, and they both looked towards it to see a harried-looking woman rush in clutching the hand of a chubby little boy.

“Welcome to the Sin Spot!” Andy greeted them cheerfully.

Luke snorted.

Quickly correcting herself, she shot him a dirty look. “TheSandSpot, I mean. How can I help you?”

But the young mother didn’t seem to have heard Andy’s verbal blunder anyway as she was too busy scanning the store. “I just need some sunblock for my Cooper. He’s getting a bit pink.”

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