Kylie leaned over and stared at the image. “So did you ask Burnett to see if he could help find out if your uncle is still alive?”

Della inhaled. “No, I don’t want to get the FRU involved.”

“You think your uncle could be rogue?” Kylie asked, sounding concerned.

“No, if he’s anything like my dad, he’s a rule follower. But if he isn’t registered or something I don’t want to be the person who gets him in trouble.”

“Burnett didn’t turn in my grandfather and aunt when he first discovered them,” Kylie said.

“That’s because they were chameleons. If they were anything else, he’d probably have done it. Being an agent, he’s officially obligated to report them. He actually told me that once when he asked me about Chan, my cousin.”

“So how are we going to find out?” Kylie asked.

The “we” in Kylie’s question tugged at Della’s emotional cords again. That was the kind of friends they were. When one of them was in trouble, they stuck together. But what wasn’t normal was Della feeling those tugs on her emotions. Was something wrong with her?

Pushing the emotion aside again, this time with a little more force, she said, “I was thinking of asking Derek if he might help. You said he worked for that PI once, and I know he’d helped you figure out a couple of your ghost issues.”

“That is a great idea. I think he and a bunch of guys were playing basketball when we headed up here,” Kylie said. “Why don’t we go see if we can find him?”

“Do we have to?” Miranda sighed. “There’s nothing worse than watching a bunch of sweaty, good-looking guys playing ball. I mean, they might even be taking off their shirts.” She grinned. “Not that any of them on the court could hold a candle to Perry. But eye candy is eye candy.”

Giggling, they started out. Della, her heartache eased, ran back to the table to get the photograph in case Derek needed to see it. When she slipped it back into the envelope, she got another whiff of Chase Tallman, the panty pervert. The emotional ripples of danger, of fear, hit again and chased away her lighthearted mood.

She really needed to figure out when and where she could have come in contact with him before. And the sooner the better.

“Told you they might have their shirts off,” Miranda whispered, and elbowed Della.

While it was October, fall had fallen behind and summer had snuck back in. At two in the afternoon, the sun beat down on the court. Della’s gaze, of its own accord, shot across the court of guys looking for one chest in particular. The sexy shape-shifter, Steve.

She found him, the same time his light brown eyes found hers. He had his shirt on, but it molded to his damp chest. Sweaty, his brown hair looked darker, and flipped up on the ends. He had the basketball in his hands and he smiled at her. Her heart did a tumble, and she fought to keep from putting off any pheromones.

“Oh, my, Kylie’s right, the panty pervert is cute,” Miranda said. “No wonder he got to you.”

Della panicked and her gaze zipped around until she found Chase. Chase without his shirt. His chest looked wider, and more muscled than it had with the white T-shirt on. She swallowed and remembered Miranda’s remark about eye candy. Escorting that thought from her addled brain, she became determined not to show any appreciation at his … his lack of clothes. Then she realized it was too late. She’d stared a fraction of a second too long and he stood, one arm on his hip, looking right at her, relishing that fraction of a second. He smiled. Crap! Had he heard Miranda, too?

“Well, if it isn’t Smurf girl!” He ran his hand though his dark hair. And no sooner had the words left his lips than the basketball whacked him in the head.

Everyone laughed. Even Della. Especially Della. She cut her gaze back to Steve and sent him an appreciative smile. And that’s when she heard Chase’s growl and saw him swing around toward Steve.

Chapter Four

Della’s shoulders came back and she was prepared to get right in the middle of it. But before the guy took even a step, Derek and Kylie’s boyfriend, Lucas, had moved between him and Steve.

“Rule number one, no trouble on the court,” Lucas said. “A fight breaks out here, and we’re all grounded from basketball for a week.”

While Lucas took the more direct route, Derek moved in and placed a hand on Chase’s shoulder. “It was just an accident,” he said.

It wasn’t an accident—Della knew Steve had done it on purpose—but let Chase believe it if he was that gullible.

Chase shook off Derek’s fae touch, which no doubt had been to shed the tension. And while Chase did seem calmer, he still managed to shoot Steve a cold look. Steve didn’t back down for a second, and Della worried the two would go at it. Not that she worried Steve couldn’t hold his own. She’d seen him in action when they were on their mission. But she didn’t want him getting into trouble because of her.

Steve wasn’t the get-into-trouble kind of guy.

“Why don’t we just call it a day,” Lucas said, and Della noted he was looking at Kylie like he was parched and she was a cool drink of sweet tea. The two were so in love that they couldn’t look at each other without getting that silly grin on their faces.

Another reason she was staying the heck away from love. Vampires didn’t do silly grins.

Lucas came walking up, grabbing his shirt from the bench by the court. “Hey,” he said, eyes and pheromones only for Kylie. “You want to go for a walk?”

“Yeah, but first I need to talk to Derek.”

“About what?” Lucas asked, sounding a tad jealous.

“An issue for Della. Can I meet you in front of the office in about five minutes?” Kylie asked.

“Yeah,” he said. He was frowning slightly, but he leaned down to kiss her.

Della looked the other way. Unfortunately, her eyes landed right on Miranda and Perry sucking face.

“We could kiss and show them how it’s done,” a deep Southern voice said at her ear. A voice belonging to a body that she hadn’t heard approaching. What was with her on-and-off hearing?

She turned around and stared at Steve. He stood so close his scent filled the air; his eyes, brown with some gold highlights, filled her vision. Leaning in just a bit, she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

Her first thought was to give in, let him kiss her, let herself kiss him, and show these amateurs how a kiss was supposed to go. Butterflies filled her chest at the thought of how good it would be. They’d kissed the first time when they were on FRU camp business. And against her better judgment, several times since. She blamed the weird electricity that snapped and popped whenever they got close. He studied her expectantly and her instinct said to spout out something off-putting about him expecting a kiss when they weren’t … an item. But she remembered he’d thrown the ball at the panty perv. Steve didn’t deserve any lip. He probably deserved a kiss, but not now. Maybe she’d pay up when they were alone.




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