Page 47 of Devil's Kiss

Dylan nodded slowly and pushed away from the sink. When he stopped opposite Derek, he studied him in silent contemplation. “I figured. And just so there’s no confusion, I’m gay, in case you didn’t get that from the way I was looking at you. That gonna be a problem?”

He’d figured, but having it confirmed made this an even better fit. “Not a problem at all.”

“Good,” Dylan said, then, as if they weren’t discussing such serious shit, he asked, “You surf?”

“Ehh…not really.”

“What? What kind of Floridian are you?”

Derek laughed, thinking how well this guy would get along with Finn. “Apparently a bad one? I love the beach, but I’m not coordinated enough to balance on a board.”

“Well,Derek, if I can pretend to be a surfer and I’m not even from here, you can at least try to fit in.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’m deeply ashamed. And where are you originally from, Prescott?”

“Prescott, huh? I can work with that. And the answer to that would be San Francisco,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly wistful tone. “I’ll get back there one day. Or at least to the West Coast.”

“Never been. Hate to say it, but I’ve never been much farther than an hour out of Sunset Cove.”

Dylan walked toward the front door and Derek followed. Once Dylan locked up and they were both standing on the little balcony overlooking the waves, he clutched his surfboard under his arm and headed toward the stairs leading down to the parking area.

Before he got too far, though, he said over his shoulder with a carefree laugh, “Not a bad place to be, all in all. Nice to meet you, Derek. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten. Don’t come earlier than that or you’ll be sorry. I amnota morning person.”

As Dylan disappeared down the stairs, Derek looked over the balcony and watched him cross the road and jog down onto the beach, and wondered if he really was an angel.

A beautiful figment of his imagination.

Guess he’d find out tomorrow—after ten.

“JORDAN? HEY, JORDAN. Are you okay?”

Jordan blinked and looked across the table to see Brantley frowning at him. It was Sunday morning, and the two of them had met up for their usual brunch and mimosas.

“Hey, yeah, sorry…I spaced for a minute.”

“I could tell. Anything interesting?” Brantley asked as he lifted his glass of OJ and champagne to his lips.

Jordan’s mouth pulled into a tight smile as he shook his head and pushed his eggs around his plate with his fork.

“Seriously. What is the matter with you? You look as if somebody stole your puppy.”

Well, kinda…He’d certainly lost someone he cared about—he just hadn’t realized how much until they were gone.

“Nothing. I’m just not feeling myself. That’s all.”

Brantley lowered his arm, placing his glass back on the table. “Is it August?”

“What?” Jordan asked, raising his eyes.

“Your ‘friend’ August. You told me he was heading overseas last week. I was wondering if he’s the reason you’re so?—”

Brantley’s words were cut off by Jordan’s phone buzzing on the table beside his arm. As his eyes flicked to the screen and he sawHe-Manlight it up, he snatched it off the table.

“Do you mind?” he asked quickly. “I’ve got to take this.”