James watched until she disappeared in the twilight, knowing he would keep his end of the bargain.
Because although he’d pretended it hadn’t been enough, her first kiss had been perfection, charming in its innocence, devoid of all artifice, and the least ugly moment of his entire, bottom-dwelling life.
CHAPTER 7
“Can you come over?” he said without preamble. They’d never spoken on the phone before, but it didn’t occur to Sonny to ask who it was, even to be coy.
“What’s up?” she asked, caution warring with pleasure.
“Carly invited her boyfriend to dinner.” He would have said the devil was coming in the same tone.
“I thought she didn’t have one.”
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I knew it couldn’t last.”
Her lips twitched. “And you need me as, what? A buffer?”
“I suppose. Carly recommended that I invite some other people, probably to take the heat off her guest. She thinks I’m going to grill him.”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. I feel sick.”
Sonny had no trouble imagining the effect of young, overactive male hormones on Carly’s already troubled psyche. “Does she know you’re inviting me?”
“It was her idea.”
“Ah.” Now she was a distraction, evidently more useful than as a rival for Ben’s affections. “Who else is coming?”
“My mom, my brother, maybe one of his boyfriends.”
“Boyfriends?”
“Yeah. He goes through them like I used to go through surf groupies. I hope Carly doesn’t take after either of us.”
She felt a flutter of panic at the thought of meeting his family, especially under an assumed identity. What a coil!
Although her gut feeling told her Ben Fortune was innocent, she still had a job to do, evidence to collect, and information to gather. If Olivia Fortune had been the SoCal Strangler’s first victim, Sonny had to find out why the killer had chosen her.
Perhaps he’d known her. And Ben.
Surrendering to duty, curiosity, and an overwhelming desire to see him again, she let out a deep breath and asked, “What time?”
Just before six, Sonny walked across Neptune Street, toward Ben’s front door. A teenaged boy was pacing the curb a few doors down, head tilted to one side, his body language suggesting he was practicing introduction scenarios. Hiding a smile, she approached him, deciding to offer her assistance.
“Hey,” she said, startling him with her presence.
When he turned around, her first impression, based solely on appearance, was that Carly Fortune had good taste. Her second, based on what was going on behind those pretty blue eyes, was that Carly was playing with fire.
Physically, he wasn’t threatening. Neither large nor impressively muscled, he had a lean, hungry look that made his cheekbones stand out in his face. Despite those sharp edges, he was handsome, and if one didn’t stray beyond the surface, he appeared nothing more than a better-than-average-looking boy. His dark blue sweater was of good quality, mended haphazardly in a couple of places with black thread, indicating that he’d done it himself. His jeans were faded from too many washings, and his shoes, a scuffed brown leather that must have been quite expensive when new, were worn but clean.
It was amazing what kind of deals you could get in Torrey Pines, shopping secondhand.
The particulars of his clothing were telling, but the flash she’d seen in his eyes upon her surprise approach concerned her more than his socioeconomic status. His defensive, fight-or-flight reaction reminded her more than a little of herself.
In the next instant, he erased the hostile expression and relaxed his stance, regarding her with mild curiosity.
“You must be Carly’s boyfriend. I’m Summer.” She stuck out her hand in greeting, telling herself the kid was sketchy, not necessarily evil.
“James.” His handshake was firm and calloused. Interesting.
“You want some tips?”
“Tips?”
He looked so hopeful that Sonny breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing sinister about a skinny boy with a puppy-dog crush. “Carly’s dad is a nice guy,” she said. “Be polite, and you’ll go far. And he’s kind of…” she paused, searching for one word to convey laid-back, health-conscious, environmentally aware, and liberal, “…a hippie, so don’t try to pull any tough-guy bullshit. It won’t impress him.”
He nodded, filing the information away. “No sports talk, then?”
The kid was quick. “I’m not sure if he likes anything but surfing.” Although he was too young to be a suspect, she gave him another quick once-over. “You surf?”
“Nah,” he said glumly. His eyes lit up. “I fish, though.”
Sonny smiled. “Then you know about the ocean. Currents, wind, waves.”
“I know some stuff.”
“Okay, but don’t go spouting off. The more you talk, the more likely you are to do or say something stupid.”
Taking no offense, he smiled back at her. “Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Ben’s.” Sonny knew exactly how her words translated in the mind of a boy his age, so she cut him off, midthought. “Ready?”
“Yes,” he said, eyeing the Fortune residence with trepidation.
“Oh, and I think Carly’s uncle is gay, so don’t freak out.”
“Why would I freak out?”
Why, indeed? “You’re okay, kid.”
Before they could knock, Carly yanked open the door, her black eyes sparkling with mischief. She looked James over, not bothering to simper or flirt, and gave Sonny a similar perusal. “You two need major help,” she decided.
Taking James by the hand, she dragged him upstairs, motioning for Sonny to follow. In her bedroom, she turned her critical eye on James first. She must have seen the warning in his expression, because she said, “You look good. But can I put some gel in your hair?”
He shrugged, scanning her bedroom, more interested in her private domain than the state of his hair. He appeared to be surveying the windows for break-in potential, when he caught Sonny watching him. Embarrassed, he turned his attention back to Carly.
Predictably, his gaze dropped to her breasts, which jiggled as she worked gel into his hair. His shoulders stiffened, and his cheekbones acquired a dull red stain.
Sonny hid a smile. Oh, to be a teenaged boy, in a constant state of sexual frustration.
When she was finished driving James crazy, Carly stepped back and nodded her approval. Then she faced Sonny. “You, on the other hand, need a lot more attention.” She made a gesture that indicated imperfection, from head to toe.
Pleased that someone besides himself was under scrutiny, the corner of James’ mouth quirked up. Out of loyalty to Sonny, for the tips, he said, “I think she looks okay.”
Carly sizzled him with a glance. “Go make nice with my dad. He’s in the kitchen.”
He paled. “Without you?”
“Yes. Offer to set the table.”
