“I’ve never missed a deadline yet, and I don’t intend to start anytime soon,” she replied calmly, delicately pulling a piece from her cupcake and popping it in her mouth.

  Echo and Kel discreetly hugged Missy and slipped out while the two women chatted more civilly about Izzy’s new book, and Missy disappeared into the kitchen to check on a batch of cupcakes that needed to come out of the oven. She hummed to herself as she worked, smiling at the look that she’d seen on Izzy’s face when the young woman watched Spencer work. It’d be interesting to see what developed there.

  **

  Spencer trotted down the steps that led to his basement apartment, not surprised at all to see Janssen sitting in his living room, drinking a craft beer.

  “I’m assuming this was for me?” he raised the bottle when Spencer strode in.

  “You know it,” he nodded and took a seat in a nearby chair.

  The apartment was sparsely furnished and everything was symmetrically arranged. The Marine liked it that way – everything he owned had a specific place, and he could tell if anything had been moved even a fraction of an inch. His cat, Moose, so named for his colossal size, jumped up onto his lap and scrutinized Janssen carefully while feigning disinterest and licking his paw.

  Spencer looked at Janssen curiously for a moment. “She came back early,” he commented, stroking the silky spot between Moose’s ears.

  “She started walking toward the road,” he shrugged. “I couldn’t let her see me, so I followed her for a ways, just to make sure she got out of the woods, so to speak. When she got close to the road, I grabbed her from behind, let her know that she was okay, and just made her stay put until a ride came along.”

  “How’d you manage that?” Spencer sat forward.

  “Called in a favor,” Janssen replied, leaving it at that.

  “You could’ve warned me.”

  “Not in time, I had to work with the situation when it presented itself, bro.”

  “I get that,” the Marine nodded.

  “She gone now?”

  “Nah, planning on hanging out here for a bit,” Spencer replied, suddenly fascinated with Moose.

  “Uh-huh,” Janssen narrowed his eyes. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with you, now would it?”

  “No way. She’s a grown woman, she does what she wants.”

  The scarred Marine, who lived in the wild because it was safer for him than society, regarded the man across from him with grave concern.

  “You can’t get involved, man. You know that. First you get too friendly with these people…” he began.

  “They’re family now,” Spencer interrupted the thought, eyes blazing.

  “That’s what I mean, man. You’re too close to them, and now you’re getting moony-eyed over some chick. You walking a thin line and you know it,” Janssen stared him down.

  “There’s nothing between me and the writer. And I know what I’m doing with these people – it’s part of the job, and it’s how I’m choosing to handle it.”

  “What book did you get that from?” was the quiet reply, as Janssen stood to go. “You know what can happen if you screw up just this much,” he placed his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart.

  “I won’t,” Spencer insisted, his jaw muscles flexing.

  “Uh-huh,” Janssen said again, giving him a long look. “Thanks for the beer, man,” he said quietly, and like a ghost, he was gone.

  **

  Izzy Gillmore thought that she saw a shadow in the trees next to the cupcake shop, but felt no sense of danger as whoever it was continued on their way. She tilted her face to the sun and smiled. She loved the ocean, loved Florida, and loved being out from under the micromanaging eyes of her publisher. Suddenly the future seemed much brighter…almost as bright as a certain pair of blue eyes that she couldn’t even begin to get out of her mind.

 

 

  Summer Prescott, Coconut Creme Killer: Book 2 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series

 

 

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