The Hitwoman Gets Lucky by JB Lynn

Author:JB Lynn [Lynn, JB]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

5

He opened the door to the mall, ushering me inside. I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the respite from the fresh air and wildlife. I could handle air conditioning, incessant advertising, and the familiar hum of commerce.

“This way.” Patrick grabbed my hand, pulling me through the mall when I stopped to stare longingly into the candy store. He jabbed at an elevator button impatiently.

“That won’t make it get here any faster,” I told him. “Where are we going?”

“To the beach.”

I frowned. I’d thought I had managed to escape the beach.

We stood aside to let a mother pushing a stroller exit the elevator before we stepped inside. It was one of those all-glass contraptions. As it slowly began its ascent, I wondered if it was what God’s day-to-day life felt like. If it was, I felt guilty about not letting him out more often.

“Whatchya thinking?” Patrick asked.

I couldn’t very well tell him that I was worried about the lizard’s mental health. “I was wondering how many times they have to clean this every day.”

“I’ve seen your place,” Patrick teased. “I don’t think they’re going to hire you for the job any time soon.”

“My place isn’t that bad.” It wasn’t going to pass any white-glove tests, but it wasn’t like it was a full-blown pigsty.

“You live on the edge of chaos.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Thankfully I didn’t have to since the elevator doors opened.

It didn’t look like a beach. It looked like an upscale food market.

“I don’t see a beach.”

Patrick jutted his chin, indicating where we were headed. “It’s on the opposite side.”

I don’t even like seafood, but the aromas wafting from the restaurants we passed had my mouth watering. I sniffed the air certain I smelled steak.

I didn’t even smell the sand or sea, but suddenly we were at a beach. Of sorts.

A line of beach chairs faced the floor-to-ceiling view of the Atlantic ocean. People sat transfixed watching the ocean ebb and flow, shoes off, toes buried in the inches of sand that lined the area.

This was my kind of beach.

“Let me guess,” Patrick said, as I marveled. “You didn’t have lunch.”

“I was busy.”

“We’ll get something later.”

“I can’t.”

He looked at me, surprised.

“I promised Armani I’d have dinner with her. Something about roller-blades…”

“Dessert then?” he asked, his voice suddenly husky, as though it was the most enticing thought to ever cross his mind.

I swallowed hard and looked away, remembering how amused he’d been earlier when he’d flirted with me.

“That’s him.” Patrick was suddenly all business.

It took me a second to change gears from wanting to melt into a puddle of desire to dealing with cold, hard facts.

Especially when the facts, at least as I could see them, made no sense.

“Who?” I asked dumbly. There was only one person in my line of vision and he certainly didn’t look like a Lucky O’Hara.

“Him.”

I squinted. The increased focus didn’t clarify things one bit. “Him?”

“Uh huh.”

I stared at the lone man sitting playing a game on his phone. I looked up at Patrick to see if he was pulling my leg.

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