He didn't reply, but I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was starting to see the humor in it – or at least trying to.
See? My plan was working already.
I smiled. "Aw, cheer up. At least you've got a roof over your head."
He let out another scoff. "Yeah. A leaky one."
This wasn't true.I mean, yeah, the roofhadbeen leaky. But I wasn't atotaldick. I'd had it patched just last week, which was pretty damn generous considering the place was set for demolition later this summer.
I'd kept the ceiling as-is, just to make him think. And judging from his face, he was thinking plenty – probably imagining a faceful of rain as he slept on the narrow bed.
I waved away his concerns. "Eh, better than nothing." But then, concern made me ask, "You sure you can live on ten bucks a day?"
He shrugged. "I've done it before."
"Yeah, but not lately."
His voice sharpened. "I'll be fine."
That was the pride kicking in.I was glad to see it."If you say so."
"Yeah, well I do." His chin jutted in that stubborn way I knew all too well.
There was no way he'd be quitting today.
But tomorrow? Yeah, we'd see about that.
I smiled. "Good thing you have your phone."
"Yeah? And why's that?"
"So you can call me when you quit."
Now hedidgrin. "Dream on, fucker."
I laughed.That was more like it.
Hoofbeats clopped from somewhere outside, announcing the arrival of the carriage I'd hired to take me to the island's only airport. Soon, I'd be on my jet, sipping good bourbon and congratulating myself on a job well done.
But as I turned for the door, I couldn't stop myself from giving my friend a final chance to bail. "Need a ride?"
"In the carriage?" Griff said. "No thanks."
Forget the carriage."I meant in the jet."
He laughed – not a real laugh, but a decent effort. "What? And leavethisplace?" He tossed out another grin. "Home sweet home, right?"
Touché.
Shaking my head, I turned and started down the stairs, calling over my shoulder, "You won't last a week."
Outside, the sun hit the water like a field of glass. The horse snorted, the carriage creaked, and somewhere behind me, a seagull squawked.
I climbed into the carriage, still thinking about Griff – and about a certain blonde behind a coffee counter with eyes full of secrets I wanted to unravel.
It's not that I was interested.It was just that, like I said, I was a curious guy. And Tessa Sinclair? She'd piqued my curiosity like nobody in a long, long time.
11
