Page 40 of Smuggler's Beauty

Before they landed, he’d done the briefest bit of investigation into the local entertainment options and had found the perfect activity to take Evelyn to. They’d make it if he hurried.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Evelyn had satoutside for a while, letting the situation ping around in her brain. Pros, cons, betrayals, confirmations of suspicions she’d long held but had condemned herself as paranoid for having. She played out scenarios. She composed belligerent speeches she’d love to give her parents and sisters. Eventually, she realized she was treading over and over again and decided to take a break.

She opened the sliding door, savoring the smoothness of the glide. It must have been recently greased. She was used to a hitch in the movement, having to jiggle the mechanism to get it to move.

Someone had plumped all the pillows on the furniture before leaving. There was a candle burning on the kitchen counter; a merry little flame helping light purple wax pump out the scents of lavender and lemon. A bunch of bananas and a pint of cherry tomatoes sat next to the candle. Evelyn walked to the fridge and opened it, wanting to see what Corrie felt she couldn’t live without. She couldn’t help but smile at the contents. Organic milk, plump fresh cherries, small balls of mozzarella cheese inoil and spices. The freezer held ice cream, crusty bread rolls, and a slightly depleted bottle of vodka.

The kitchen inspected, she headed to her bedroom. The bed was made more expertly than she’d ever managed. Her desk held a tablet, a communicator, and a note from Corrie.

Evie, the communicator is encrypted. My contact code, as well as Aiden’s, are programmed in. The tablet has your old library uploaded, along with any sequels or spin-offs I thought you’d appreciate having. If you need me, contact me anytime. See you tomorrow. Love, C

Evelyn felt a surge of gratitude. Corrie may have made incomprehensible decisions, but she understood Evelyn better than anyone else in her family ever had.

She turned to her dresser. The drawers held her clothes from before she’d left the planet.I’ll be the envy of every vintage clothing hunter in the valley. Evelyn wondered how much it had cost Corrie to keep everything from decomposing. The expense of keeping personal possessions in stasis had to be astronomical; it was far less common than keeping people preserved. Maybe the technology had advanced enough while she’d been out?

Still, she was grateful. She opened the closet and spied her favorite shoes: expertly broken in black high-top Converse. She grabbed them from the floor, lurching up when she heard the doorbell.

Evelyn headed down the hall clutching her shoes. She briefly wondered if she should be holding the knife Nannette had armed her with earlier instead.Murderers and kidnappers don’t ring doorbells.She reached the peephole and saw Aidenstanding there, hands in his back pockets.Murderers don’t ring doorbells, anyway.

She opened the door and gave Aiden a shy smile.

“Hi,” she said. She tilted her head as she took in his outfit without the distortion of the peephole. He was wearing what she assumed was a band T-shirt, skintight jeans, and checkered Vans.

“Hey there, dollface.” He grinned and pointed to the shoes. “I don’t think those are gonna fit me.”

Evelyn backed into the hallway and gestured for him to come in. She now had no idea what to do with the shoes. She had narrowly avoided using them like an air traffic controller to guide him into the living room. Hurrying to the door to her bedroom, she tossed the shoes inside.

“I take it the trip back to the ship was uneventful?” She turned to find him lounging on the side of the sofa. He was smiling softly, almost absently, like he couldn’t help it. The crinkles around his eyes made her heart beat a little faster. Evelyn still had no idea what to do with her hands. She decided crossing her arms and leaning on the doorjamb was the easiest thing to do.

“Yup. Everyone’s taking advantage of the free night to do their own thing.”

“And what’s your thing?” Her heart started to race, her mind spiraling with possibilities.

His green gaze locked on hers. “My thing is keeping you from freaking out about making a decision the size of the one Vinnie dropped in your lap. So, I consulted my list and found an activity you’ll enjoy. Someone,” he said, drawing out the word and raising his eyebrows at her, “found my sticky note and made some additions. I am here to humbly request you get dressed in your finest early 2000s Earth fashion so I can take you out on the town.”

“This explains the jeans. Not that I’m complaining. You look nice.” She could feel the heat creeping up her neck. “I’m going to go and change.”

“I’ll be right here. I plan to examine the shelves. More list research,” he said with a wink as he turned to survey her movie collection.

Evelyn turned and gently closed the door to her bedroom. She ransacked the drawers, looking for something to fit the theme. Tight, skinny jeans, socks, and a black band T-shirt joined the shoes in a pile on her bed.

She paused as she looked at her selections. Where the hell had Aiden found clothes that matched the contents of her drawers so flawlessly? Where was he taking her?

She rummaged through her closet and found a pyramid studded belt.Thank you, Corrie, for your obsessive attention to detail. Everything she had looked for had been, more or less, where she’d left it. She shimmied into her outfit and then headed for her bathroom to apply dramatic black eyeliner. She shoved a tube of lip balm into her pocket after applying a layer to her lips.

When she emerged from the bedroom, Aiden was crouched on the ground next to a bookshelf, typing movie titles into his communicator. He straightened up when he heard her moving toward him and shoved the device into his back pocket. It bulged out against the tight denim.

“If these pants didn’t inspire men to start carrying bags, I don’t think anything could have.”

“And somehow, I’ll bet your pockets are still more generous than mine are.”

“Conspiracy. Has to be.” He smiled at her and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Ready to go?”

“Lead on.”

The event space was a large,converted warehouse near downtown Las Vegas, decorated to make the audience feel like they were in someone’s garage. But on steroids. With a full bar, a stage, and cabaret seating. The woman who took their tickets had silver rings in both corners of her bottom lip, electric blue hair, and bangs dramatically swept over her face from which her heavily lined eyes peeked out cheerfully.