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“Maybe because you’re a biker?”

He laughed at that. “Nah, I just like to ride now and then. I’m planning a retreat for my staff and will be giving a talk on security to some Wall Street types at a convention in Wilmington in a few weeks.”

Hmm. Leah was right. He was high end.

“How did you find your way to Oceanside? It’s a bit out of the way.”

“I’m here looking for someone," he said. "Doing a favor."

“Do they live on the island?"

He nodded. "Just tracking someone down."

"Do they have a name? I might know them."

"That's classified info." He smiled a wicked smile. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"Then don't tell me." I grinned back. "I don't really want to know anyway."

He said nothing for a moment while I poured drinks.

"What time are you off?" he said finally.

"Midnight, but the answer’s still no."

“Can’t blame a man for trying.” He glanced at the thick watch on his wrist and when he pulled up the sleeve of his leather coat, I saw a tattoo on his arm just above his watch. I couldn't make out what it was, but it seemed to be a dark blue pattern.

A tattoo of some kind.

"Have one drink with me at least, sha," he said, his voice soft, with a bit more of a Cajun lilt than earlier. "It's such a shame when you meet someone special and then have to say goodbye far too soon."

“You just met me,” I said and rolled my eyes. “How do you know I’m special? For all you know, I’m just another girl bartending at some out-of-the-way restaurant in Topsail Beach.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m an excellent judge of character. It’s one of my many superpowers.”

“Oh yeah?” I said in amused disbelief. “What are your other superpowers? Although, let me stop you,” I said and held out my palm. “I can already guess.”

“You’ll just have to have a drink with me and find out,” he replied with a grin.

I sighed. He was so damn gorgeous, his voice so sexy, and I was really starting to regret that I was almost ready to pass out from exhaustion. Even if he was only in town for a night, I would still enjoy a little male attention.

"You never did tell me what you do for a living," I said, unwilling to stop the little game that was going on between us.

"Like I say, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

I laughed at that, but given my family and my current career hopes, alarm bells went off in my head.

"I can't just have a drink with a perfect stranger. Especially one who warns me about having to kill me."

"I was just joking," he said and took out a thin wallet, pulling out some ID. A driver's license and an ID tag. “If you insist.”

I took them both and examined them. The driver's license was from the State of New York. Beckett Tate. The ID tag was for a tech firm in Manhattan – Brimstone Solutions, Inc. His name on that was Beckett Tate. CEO.

Just then, Steve took the ID out of my hands and examined it closely.

"CEO?" he said with a scoff as I took the ID back.

"Yes," Beckett said and took another sip of his drink. “My company develops technology for the military. We also provide security intelligence and technical support for high value assets who have investments or companies that will be operating in conflict zones."