Page 10 of Vamp

ROAN

I’d taken Claire’s advice from earlier and slapped a ballcap over my dark hair and slid on a pair of sunglasses before I headed for the main stairs. I could have taken the side staircase, but I wanted to see if my little disguise worked.

I heard voices coming from the front desk area as I hit the staircase, and ducked my head as I descended the stairs to the first floor. From the corner of my eye I saw Claire talking to a young guy about her age. He was looking at her with a crooked, slightly goofy smile on his face, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans that appeared to be a size too big.

The first thought that popped into my head was that this kid was way out of his league. Claire was a pretty little thing, with long cornsilk hair and smiling blue eyes, and I couldn’t imagine the gangly guy with hearts in his eyes had a shot in hell. But a peek at Claire showed her head was ducked, her cheeks flushed a shy pink, and a timid smile played on her lips as she listened to whatever the guy was saying.

I hit the foot of the stairs, drawing their attention my way, and offered a two-finger salute in their direction as I kept my face pointed forward, hoping like hell the kid didn’t recognize me.

“Have a good afternoon, Mr. Gates,” Claire called to my back. I appreciated what she was trying to do, using my pseudonym to try and keep my cover under wraps, but the way she stressed my so-called name would have come off as weird to anyone who wasn’t too busy mooning after her.

I glanced back over my shoulder and caught her exuberant smile and double thumbs-up, like she was silently conveying that the disguise was good. I nodded, a smile pulling at my lips, and headed out into the bright, beautiful day.

I gave myself enough time to stroll through downtown Hope Valley before my meeting with Lincoln, taking time to get an up-close look at everything the town had to offer. There was a salon near the town square, the large script adhered to the window read Pure Elegance, and as I walked past, I noticed every station had someone sitting in it, and the chairs that lined one of the walls were all full with waiting customers. Seemed it was the salon of choice for the ladies of Hope Valley.

There were other shops, businesses, and boutiques. The parking lot of a local restaurant, Evergreen Diner, was at least half full, even thought it was past lunch time and not quite time for dinner, leading me to believe the townspeople believed in taking care of their own.

As far as I could see, there were no big box stores anywhere, no chain restaurants or fast food stops. Not a Starbucks in sight. Instead, there was a coffee shop called Muffin Top that must have been popular, given the fact a line extended more than half the length of the space when I pulled the heavy glass door open and stepped inside for an afternoon pick-me-up.

I tugged the brim of my hat farther down on my forehead and kept the shades firmly in place as I shuffled forward with the rest of the patrons toward that caffeinated bliss.

The shop smelled strongly of fresh-roasted coffee beans, sugar, and spice. The tall glass pastry cases on either side of the front counter were stocked with delicious looking treats that made my mouth water.

I made it to the front of the line without being recognized and quickly put in an order for a large black coffee and a blueberry muffin nearly as big as my face before heading out the door and resuming my casual stroll down the sidewalk.

I took the first sip of my coffee and I let out a mumbled, “Damn.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a better tasting cup of coffee. Wanting to see if the pastries lived up to the coffee, I took a chomp out of the muffin, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head as the flavors burst on my tongue.

Whoever the owner was had used fresh blueberries, giving the muffin a bite of tartness that was the perfect balance to the sweet. Seemed I’d found where I would be getting my coffee and breakfast for the foreseeable future.

I passed a bar cleverly called the Tap Room and turned the corner onto the next block where Alpha Omega, Lincoln’s private investigation and security firm, was located.

It was my first time stepping into his domain, and it certainly wasn’t what I’d been expecting. The lobby’s huge floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto the sidewalk beyond. Black leather couches for waiting clients faced each other with a gleaming glass coffee table between them. Where the inn was small-town and full of quaint history, this place was modern and top-of-the-line everything. Hell, there was even a coffee bar on the back wall with a machine that looked like something you’d expect to see on a spaceship.

Thank Christ I’d stopped for a caffeine boost before I got here, because I didn’t think I could work that machine if I’d had a gun pointed to my head.

“May I help you?”

I was pulled out of my exploration by the woman settled behind the reception desk. If I had to guess, I’d have put her somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties. She had a shock of red hair that couldn’t have possibly been natural, because I was pretty sure I’d never seen a color that bright in nature. Her makeup was bold, with bright blue eye shadow, deep pink blush, and a bright red lipstick. From my vantage point beyond the desk, she liked to wear her clothes tight and didn’t shy away from showing cleavage. Yet somehow, the woman managed to make the whole thing work without it coming off as gaudy. She had an air to her that screamed she knew who the hell she was and made no apologies for it.

I moved toward the desk, my charming smile in full force. “Hi. I have an appointment with Lincoln Sheppard. The name’s—”

“Know who you are,” she said before I could give her the alias I’d given Lincoln. “Have a seat and I’ll call him for you.” Her tone was almost bored as she pointed me over to the couches with a long, blood-red nail.

My chin jerked back, and the shock must have registered on what she could see of my face behind the cap and sunglasses, because she didn’t hesitate to explain. “I’m guessin’ you expected me to fall all over myself fawnin’ after you?” she scoffed. “Boy, I got news for you. I’m far too fabulous my own damn self to care about some celebrity.”

Oh, I liked this woman.

I took the sunglasses off and tucked one of the temples into the collar of my T-shirt as my grin stretched wider. “Roan Blackwell,” I said as I extended my hand over the credenza of her desk. “And you are?”

She gave my hand a perfunctory shake. “Roxanne. And totally out of your league, so you may as well take that panty-droppin’ smile of yours somewhere else.”

Okay, Ireallyliked her.

A chuckle worked its way from my chest. “Lovely Roxanne, please tell me you’re single and willing to run away with me.”

Her brightly painted lips curled up in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m married. And my old man would snap you like a twig.”

“She’s not lyin’,” a voice said from behind me. I turned to find Linc standing in an open doorway, arms crossed, his shoulder resting on the doorframe.

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