Intuition. Carol Ericson
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“Still riding motorcycles.”
“For disliking me in high school, you sure do remember a lot about me.”
“You were kind of hard to miss. I think you reached your full height in ninth grade, didn’t you?”
He opened the hotel door for her. “Nah, I was probably about six two in ninth grade—still had a few inches to go. You were hardly inconspicuous yourself.”
“Me?” She smiled for the first time that night, a slow, sultry lift of one side of her mouth. “I always thought I flew under the radar.”
Kylie weaved through the tables in the hotel lobby bar and made a beeline for the grinning bartender. Matt would’ve preferred one of those little tables with the nuts in a plastic cup, but Kylie settled on a bar stool and planted her elbows on the shiny mahogany.
“I’ll have a glass of chardonnay, anything from California, and he’ll have…” She raised one eyebrow in his direction without much interest.
“I’d like a beer. What do you have on tap?”
“We have a good microbrew from Avila Beach.”
“Sounds good.”
Matt perched on the edge of the bar stool next to Kylie’s. “Do you want to sit at a table?”
“I’m good here.”
She’d been the one hanging from a banister, so he let it go. But he didn’t plan on letting her off easy. “What brings you back to Coral Cove and what were you doing at Columbella House?”
She smiled her thanks at the bartender and took a sip of the light gold liquid from her glass. She considered Matt over the rim of that glass. “Isn’t it obvious what I was doing at Columbella?”
Matt took a swig of beer and wrapped his hands around the mug. Was this a trick question? Any ideas he’d had about this encounter being an easy, sexy flirtation just fell flat. Kylie didn’t do easy…but she had the sexy part down to a T.
“Uh, were you exploring like me?”
She snorted into her wine and he found it oddly appealing. “Come on, Matt. You know my mom killed herself in that house, hung herself from that very landing.”
“So were you paying your respects? Putting old demons to rest?”
“Old demons.” Her nostrils flared and she flung back her long, black hair looking…witchy.
Like a totally hot, sexy witch.
“I guess you could say that.” She tossed back half the wine and turned toward him, her knees bumping his thigh. “You know I’m a psychic, don’t you?”
He choked on his beer, and it came fizzing out his nose. He grabbed a cocktail napkin and hid behind it. Had he known that? The kids in high school used to say Kylie could read minds or tell fortunes, but he just figured they’d said that because Kylie’s mom was some kind of gypsy fortune-teller. He just thought the mom was nuts. That’s what Matt’s dad used to say anyway—not that you could ever trust anything that came out of the old man’s mouth.
“You didn’t know?” Kylie hunched forward, her hands on her knees, the tips of her long hair brushing his thighs.
To hell with the fortune-telling. He wanted to kiss her right now.
She backed off and took another sip of her wine. Must’ve read his thoughts on that one, but it wouldn’t take much of a psychic to figure out his intentions since the crotch of his jeans had suddenly tightened and he was pretty sure he’d been staring at her luscious pink lips.
He cleared his throat. “I guess I knew that, sort of. So that’s why you’re back in Coral Cove?” He waved his arm toward the lobby. “Because if you’re staying here, I figure you’re just visiting.”
“It’s not exactly a visit, not social anyway.” She ran a fingertip along the rim of her glass. “And the stuff with my mom…it’s not my primary purpose for being here.”
He waiting politely, taking another sip of his beer, but she didn’t finish her thought, and he was left wondering about her primary purpose for being in Coral Cove. Instead, she wiggled her fingers in the air, signaling the bartender. “We’ll close out now, unless…” She threw a glance his way.
“No, I’m good, and I’ll get this.”
“That’s not necessary. In fact, I owe you.”
As she reached for her purse, her cell phone rang. She checked the display and said, “Excuse me a minute. I have to take this.”
She swiveled away from him and hunched over the bar.
Boyfriend? Husband? He hadn’t even asked. Didn’t want to know.
He lifted his hip from the bar stool to retrieve the card to his room and leaned toward Kylie, not that he was trying to eavesdrop or anything.
Her low, musical voice reached his ears. “Nothing yet, Mrs. Harris. I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”
A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw. Mrs. Harris?
Kylie clicked her phone off and dropped it back into her purse. “Sorry. I was supposed to call that person earlier and got completely sidetracked.”
“By your mother.”
“Uh-huh.” She made a grab for the check. “I really didn’t take that call to avoid paying the bill.”
He scribbled his signature and room number on the bill and shoved it toward the bartender. Harris, common name. There were lots of Harrises in the world, right?
The man on the bar stool next to Kylie’s spun around, a fake smile claiming half his face.
“Kylie Grant, right?”
Kylie jerked back from the man’s eager-puppy-dog enthusiasm. “That’s right. Oh, you’re Tyler Davis.”
“Correct.” The man’s teeth gleamed in the low light of the bar. “Mayor Davis now.”
“Mayor of Coral Cove? That’s—” she turned to Matt and rolled her eyes “—impressive.”
“I heard a rumor about your presence in town, Kylie. Is it true?”
“Depends on the rumor.” She narrowed her eyes and Matt almost felt sorry for Mayor Davis as a chill settled on the bar.
“Not a good idea, Kylie.” Davis wagged his finger in Kylie’s face and Matt felt like breaking it off. “We should let sleeping dogs lie.”
“And murdered dogs? Should we let those lie, as well, Mr. Mayor?”
Matt drew his brows over his nose and tried to catch Kylie’s eye, but she’d zeroed in on Davis.
“The girl ran off. There was never any evidence of foul play, and with the Coral Cove Music Festival about to get underway we don’t want any bad publicity surrounding the event.”
Matt froze and his jaw tightened. What the hell was Davis talking about?
Kylie’s lip curled. “You were mayor at the time Bree Harris disappeared, too, weren’t you? You and that Chief Evans. That’s why there was no evidence of foul play—you and the chief weren’t looking for any.”
Davis hopped off the stool. “Just don’t stir up any trouble for the festival. This town has endured enough this summer. We deserve to end it on a high note.”
Kylie muttered something under her breath as Davis sauntered away, stopping to shake hands with a couple by the window.
Matt planted his hands on his knees and swiveled around to face her. “What are you doing in Coral Cove, Kylie?”
She blew a wisp of hair from her face. “I guess you can’t keep secrets in small towns, or at least not many. I’m here to