“What are they protesting outside the town hall?”
“The fact that the governments, local or otherwise, are hiding proof that aliens are real. They demand the truth at three o’clock every Friday afternoon.”
“What? Do they have a standing appointment with the mayor or something?”
“I wish I could say no. The mayor told them that daily protests were problematic and disruptive, but if they wanted to pick a day and time, he would take five minutes to entertain them.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “For real?”
“I’m not kidding. Go by there on Friday at around three-forty-five and wait. He’ll come out for the final five minutes, tell them they’re crazy, reiterate that he has no proof of aliens and even if he did, releasing it isn’t his call. Then, at four, everyone disbands, and life goes back to normal.”
“That… is a little strange.”
“Creek Keys is a little strange. You get used to it.”
“I’m not sure naked pensioners on the beach at night is something anyone could ever get used to.”
“You are not wrong.”
We shared a smile, and I turned back to my painting.
“I’m going to get some more water. Do you want some?” Elle asked, pausing next to me.
“Sure. Thanks. Do you have any ice?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’ll put it in a glass.”
Damn it.
I was starting to like her.
It didn’t hurt that she was fucking beautiful.
It was pretty hard to hate beautiful people. It was unfair—and also why I could never really stay mad at Arielle for very long.
I turned to dip my brush in the paint, but right as I did, Elle returned. I saw the water glass too late—we collided, and her gasp accompanied the shock of ice-cold water coating me. I was battered by ice cubes, and I let out a loud “Fuck!” when one smashed into my nose.
I was soaked.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” Elle dropped what she was holding—the water bottle and the glass. The glass shattered the moment it hit the wooden floor, sending tiny specks of glass flying across it. “Oh, shit the bed!”
“Bloody hell,” I breathed, dropping my paintbrush into the roller tray. “That’s cold.”
“I am so sorry! Oh, my God! Let me get you a towel!” She froze, holding out her hands. “Don’t move. I’ll get the broom!”
She rushed away like she had a rocket up her arse and grabbed the broom from where it was standing against the wall in the kitchen. She ran back over and swept it all into a pile at the side of the doorframe, then stared at me.
“Oh. Crap! I forgot the towel.”
I rubbed my hand down my face. Jesus, she was right when she’d said that she wasn’t loved for her grace or elegance.
“It’s fine.” I reached down and pulled my shirt up and over my head, then used it to wipe my face. The water had been oddly soothing—it was a million degrees in the humid mess that was Florida, but it was now uncomfortably warm from where it had stuck my shirt to my stomach.
Elle turned and froze, her blue eyes widening. Like the glass and bottle before it, the towel slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor, although that was decidedly less messy than the glass.
“What?” I asked, then looked down at myself.
I was shirtless.
“Oh. Sorry. Do you want me to put it back on?”
Her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. “No. It’s fine. I mean. It’s my fault. I wasn’t watching. Also. It’s, um. It’s your house.”
“I’ll run back to my place and get a new shirt.”
“It’s fine. It’s fine.” She held up her hands, then bent to pick up the towel. “Just, you know.” Her gaze drifted over my upper body, lingering for a second on my stomach before she swallowed. “Warn a girl before you start getting naked. Especially when you look like that.”
“Look like what?”
“A closet underwear model.” She clapped her hand over her mouth.
I fought back a smile. I was not an underwear model, but I appreciated the compliment.
She dropped her hand and parted her lips as if she were about to say something, then jolted when the sound of a phone buzzing filled the air. “That’s my phone.” She ran into the utility, past me, almost brushing right up against me.
I breathed in—not that it did anything—and hated that I caught the smell of shampoo that lingered on her hair. The unidentifiable scent mixed with the paint that was all over her, and I shook off any of those thoughts before it went too far.
The last thing I needed was to get too attracted to Elle.
And that was something that would be all too easy.
CHAPTER EIGHT – ELLE
The good news: Noelle Bond in Texas was willing to take on my case.
The bad news: I was now four thousand dollars lighter—and that was just the deposit.
It was worth it. I hadn’t lied when I told Theo I was conservative with money, but I also hadn’t let on to my earnings.
I made a lot of money.
More than I ever thought I would.
Until now.
There was no denying that my earnings were about to take a huge hit. Hell, they already had. It made me thankful for the lessons my parents had taught me before they’d died—the best one being that money was like the weather; it was always unpredictable.
I didn’t care about my apartment. As long as I could get my belongings, I had enough funds to rebuild my life, and that made me exceptionally lucky.
Or smart.
Maybe both.
With a sigh, I shut down my laptop. I’d spent the past three hours searching for a place in either Florida or Alabama or Georgia where I could stay but I’d come up empty. I’d even searched Cuba and the Bahamas, but that was pointless because my passport was at my sister’s house.
I doubted she would send it to me without packing her entire person into a mailing box with it.
I did not need UPS delivering my older sister in a box.
If I didn’t find a place to stay tomorrow, I was running out of options. There was no other option than having to speak to Theo and see if he would let me stay here longer. I wasn’t in any position to go home to my apartment or even Emily’s house, and I was quite enjoying Florida.
It was quiet here. It was sunny, it was crazy, and nobody cared that I was here.
I would have to publicly deal with the video soon, but that wasn’t today. Thankfully.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t be tomorrow either.
I grabbed a bag of cheese Doritos and stepped out onto the back deck. It was shaded at this time of day, thankfully, and I settled onto the rattan sofa to look out at the beach.
I almost had a flash of yesterday where there were three ladies gathered together, but it turned out the group was just a couple and their extremely large dog.
Thank God.
I was not here for another round of conspiracies with the old ladies.
Not tonight, anyway.
Besides, I was still flustered after spending most of the day painting with Theo. I about had a heart attack when he’d taken his shirt off, and I wasn’t sure I’d even wiped the memory from my brain yet.
He was unfairly sexy. Like straight up, unfair, God was feeling generous with the good luck charms the day he was born.