Page 13 of Southernmost Murder

“Bar okay with you?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I snatched two stools before an incoming pack of college bros could, and they planted themselves farther away on the side nearest Jun. “So,” I said, taking a breath. “Did you have a good flight?”

Jun’s smile was both heart-meltingly sweet and ridiculously hot. It was infuriating how he could pull off the naughty-and-nice thing at the same time. He didn’t have a big smile; rather, it quirked to one side and he kept his lips pressed closed. It was his eyes. Not to sound lame, but they practically twinkled when he was happy.

“It was fine. I much prefer the skip-and-hop of New York to Florida over the fourteen-hour flights to China and Japan.”

Oh right—Jun worked for the FBI’s Organized Crime Team and specialized in Asian Criminal Enterprises. He took out serious bad guys like triads and yakuza. He spoke three languages and worked with international organizations to stop underground crime groups. Basically Jun was a superhero. Which, now that I was totally nuts about him, was scary as hell. People shot at him, after all.

“Hello, gentlemen,” the bartender said distractedly as she approached. “Get you two a drink?”

“Sapporo on tap,” I said.

Jun glanced at me and then her. “Same for me.”

“And can we get some barbeque shrimp?” I added.

She nodded, already walking away to grab our drinks.

“I thought you couldn’t drink,” Jun said, turning in his chair to look at me.

“Yeah, well, one won’t kill me. I’m not supposed to mix alcohol with my stimulants.WhichI forgot to take this morning anyway, so….” I shrugged.

The bartender returned and dropped two paper coasters that had seen better days, then set our full glasses down. “Be back in a few with the food.”

Jun thanked her and picked up his beer. “What shall we drink to?”

“Finding my phone so I don’t leave you at future airports again?” I asked, picking up my own drink.

He smiled again. “Let’s drink to this week and everything that comes with it.”

“The good, bad, and ugly?” I asked, clinking my glass against his. “Because you’ve not seen how much of a hot mess I am first thing in the morning.”

“I’m sure you’re absolutely gorgeous,” Jun murmured before sipping his beer.

Aaaandnow I was blushing. Goddamn it. I took several gulps to busy myself.

“So what has you so flustered?” Jun asked.

“Besides you?” I was so smooth.

“It’s not because of me,” he said, a chuckle woven into his words.

I was so not smooth, apparently. “Nothing important.”

Jun arched one perfect brow. “Try me.”

“Oh, come on,” I whined. “I don’t want you looking at me like I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs on the first day you’re here.”

Jun straightened in his seat. “What’s wrong, Aubrey?” He was all serious now, and it was killing the mood.

I frowned and ran my fingers up and down my drink, collecting condensation until I realized it looked like I was lazily jacking the glass off and abruptly stopped. “The ‘too long; didn’t read’ version is this morning there was a human skeleton in the third-floor closet of the historical home, and when I brought a police officer in, it was gone.”

Jun gave his beer a thoughtful expression, crossed his long, sexy legs, and said nothing.

“You can’t tell me you don’t have a smartass remark or two for that claim. I wasn’t drinking. I wasn’t hallucinating.”