Page 33 of Resurrection
“She is in no danger from me. We took her phone out of an abundance of caution. It will be returned.”
“Okay, but when can I see her?”
“You’re welcome to join us. I’ll send Nic our coordinates.”
“Wait, what?”
“Otherwise, it might be a while. We’re doing a sea trial.”
Imogen stared at Nic, and he plucked the phone from her hand.
“Drop me a pin. I’ll holler if we’re coming.”
“Bon. Au revoir.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Well, today definitely wasn’t going as Nic had planned.
Eat beignets, paint a pretty girl, maybe grab some lunch, kiss her again. And now …
He studied Imogen’s face. “You want to go on a boat ride? Or let your sister deal with the consequences of her own actions?”
“What is even happening right now?” She seemed a bit overwhelmed, but she wasn’t freaking out, so that was a plus.
“Your sister got herself into a bit of a pickle.”
“As per usual,” Imogen sighed.
“I kinda figured. What do you want to do?” His phone vibrated in his hand, and he looked down to see coordinates. “We can go. Or not.”
“We?”
“You want to do this alone?”
She shook her head. “No. I guess not. I do know boat captains down on the island. But that’s hours away.”
Nic knew he had a choice to make. Either send her on her way to deal with her crazy sister’s stunt by herself or have an adventure with a pretty girl. He wasn’t a fucking idiot. He just hoped Leo was planning on being back by next week.
“Let’s see what he sent me.” He tapped the screen, and the map popped up. “Belle Chasse Ferry Landing. It’s a thirty-minute drive. We don’t have a lot of time to decide.”
“Let’s go. I’ll call a rideshare.”
“What about your folks?”
“I’ll deal with them later.”
“All right. Let me grab a few things. Be ready in five.”
Nic jogged out of the studio, down the hall, and into his room. He knew Leo, which meant anything could happen. He texted his neighbor to ask her to watch the house and then tossed some stuff into a leather duffel. For all he knew, they could end up in fucking Cuba. Leo was unpredictable, and although you had to know him, he’d sounded pissed on the phone. It was that annoyed, contained French restraint that had hidden it so well.
Well, at least Imogen wasn’t bailing her sister out of jail. And bonus: he got to spend more time with her.
After he packed clothes and toiletries as best as he could for both of them, he zipped his leather duffel and met her in the hallway.
“I closed and locked all the French doors.”
“Perfect. I’ll close up the rest of the house. How long until the ride shows?”
