Page 2 of Viper

“Siesta Key.”

“Hmm. I can’t remember, is that where Paige is?”

As if you don’t know. “Not sure man,” he said, managing to sound disinterested and genuinely irritated. “Listen, I’m sweating my bag off. Did you need somethin’?”

He sighed. “I’m going to sound stupid, but⁠—”

Viper’s senses piqued. “What?”

“Did you hear about that body that washed up in Siesta Key a few days ago? Not gonna lie, scared the shit out of me. I’ve been looking into the case and it’s more gruesome than it originally sounded.”

He’d seen the news articles. Annamay Lewis, age twenty-five, had been visiting the area from Tennessee. A few locals had said that part of the beach had been taped off during the investigation but was now open. “I thought her death was accidental.”

“Not anymore. They’re now ruling it a homicide due to suspected foul play. ’Course they’re not saying much more than that.”

He grunted. “Did you talk to Paige about it?”

“I did. Told her to be careful. Well, actually I told her to get her ass home. She refused. She’s so hardheaded.”

“Takes after her brother. So whaddya want me to do? Find her and drag her to the airport?”

“If you’re up for the task. At least talk some sense into her.”

He scoffed. “You and I both know the odds of that happening. All right, I’ll try to track her down and get back to you.”

“Thanks, dude.”

He hung up and blew a breath through his lips. A group of kids ran past him squealing. Sand pelted his shins.

He’d waited too long to ask Paige out. And he’d come all this goddamn way. The least he could do was let her know he was here and wanted to see her. If she shot him down for Douchebag, then fine.

He felt like less of a creep now, having Atlas’s blessing to talk to her. Turning back to where he’d last seen her, he froze. She was gone. A family with five kids played at the shore.

He stalked closer to the sea, standing almost exactly where she’d been moments before. He gazed over the rippling, clear water. Several people on floaties and boats speckled the crystal blue oasis, but no sign of Paige, her friend, or the douchebag.

Fuck.

He hadn’t gone as far as to find out where she was staying in Siesta Key. Knowing Paige’s love of diving and snorkeling, he’d lucked out finding her at the beach.

He’d just have to call her. Not right now, though. He’d go back to his short-term rental and shower, maybe have dinner, then reach out.

And if she was still with Douchebag, well, he just might be fucked.

Paige accepted the second glass of wine from Craig and curled her legs under her on the bench seat of Craig’s yacht. Stars twinkled overhead, and dark water danced around the boat. They were a mile or so offshore. The lights of several beach restaurants shone in the distance.

Craig sat beside her, curling his hand easily around her exposed calf. She wore a black maxi dress. Given all the sun she’d gotten this week, her tan was on point.

“You’re not drinking,” Craig said.

She smiled. “I’m full. Dinner was so good and I already had some wine.” She leaned forward and placed the glass on the table. “It’s been such a nice evening. You’re quite the diver.”

He chuckled, his warm brown eyes alight with confidence. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

She wrinkled her nose modestly. In truth, she’d been diving for a few years and always got a thrill when she and Chantal got to swim with sea animals. “I was a little disappointed we didn’t find that bull shark.”

He took a long swig of his red wine then laughed, setting down his glass next to hers. “You like the rush too much.”

“It’s hard not to,” she said, combing her fingers behind her ear. “Although, after what happened to that poor woman— Gosh, I just can’t get it out of my head.”