He was off his rocker. Either that, or I was – because I was completely lost.
Or maybe my head was still too full of Tessa Sinclair. Even now, as the guy yammered on about this being his third ride around the island, I couldn't stop picturing Tessa's smile, that purple bottle, and the way she'd lit up when I'd tossed out that movie line.
She'd been gone for barely thirty minutes, and already, I wanted to see her light up again.
Instead, I was staring at a shark-riding stranger.
Out of the blue, he announced, "I call it Shark Bike."
I gave a solemn nod. "Good choice. I mean, you can't exactly call it Bunny Bike."
"Hah!" the guy said. "The Sharkster eats bunnies for breakfast."
It was so ridiculous, I laughed. "Yeah? And what about for lunch?"
"Laugh all you want," he said. "But we both know you're jealous."
If so, that was news to me. "I am?"
"Damn straight, you are." He gave the bike another pat. "This baby? It was reserved for a different VIP – a big secret name." He grinned. "Butthen, look whoIspot a few blocks away, heading for Pickett's Pedals."
Pickett's what?It had to be a bike rental place, but I hadn't been anywhere near one. In fact, after hitting a few fudge shops, the only place I'd been heading was back to my suite to make a surprise acquisition.
And I didn't mean of real estate.
When I said nothing in reply, the guy asked, "Ring any bells?"
"Nope. No bells here."
His eyes gleamed as he leaned forward. "Sure, dude. ButIwas the one who got it, not you."
From a few feet away, the woman turned to the tourist next to her – a beefy guy in a blue shirt – and said, "I'm gladsomeonegot it, because honestly? I'm a little confused."
The tourist replied, "If you thinkthisis confusing, you should see what's going on at the coffee shop. It's like every man for himself in there."
Thatgot my attention. "Wait, what coffee shop?"
The tourist hitched a thumb toward the place where Tessa worked. "That one."
I frowned. "So there's a problem?"
He snorted. "That'soneword for it. It's so crazy, the customers are serving themselves. It's likeLord of the Fliesin there."
I wasn't liking the sounds ofthat.
I was still eyeing the coffee shop when the shark rider called out, "Hey, Vaughn." When I turned to look, he smiled like we were suddenly best buddies. "No hard feelings, alright?"
My thoughts were still tangled up with Tessa. Absently, I replied, "About what?"
"Oh, come on. You're Ryder Vaughn, a mega VIP. It must be hard getting told no."
True, it wasn't a word I heard often, but I still had no idea what he meant. And I sure as hell didn't call myself a VIP.
Into my silence, he said, "But you can't wineverytime, right?" And with that, he pushed off like a guy leading a parade. Over his shoulder, he called back with a snicker, "Anyway, good luck with aregularbike."
He said "regular" like the bike in question would chew off my balls and spit them into traffic.
I just stood there, watching him go – but not for long. Shark or not, I had bigger fish to fry.
