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The day out did wonders for Taz’s spirit.
It seemed the sea air agreed with her.
She was even smiling again.
Her hood was off, allowing the air to float through the strands of her dark hair that she hadn’t cut in a while.
Usually, it was cut up to her shoulders with bangs framing her forehead. That was the look I was used to on her—but of late, her hair was down her back and her bangs were entirely too long to be called that anymore.
We ordered food and drinks—skipping booze—while she tried getting to know Beam.
It was as if we didn’t have people after us and we were free to be somewhat normal for a while.
Tex checked in with us to let us know he had information and would send them to our secure email. I chose to keep that from Taz for the moment.
I needed to see her outside of beast-mode.
She needed this break.
Beam went off to find a bathroom and I took the moment to reach across to squeeze her hand. She smiled beautifully at me then lifted her face and closed her eyes.
Her shoulders rose, almost to her ears, paused then fell.
When she looked at me again, I leaned in close.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked in Thai.”
“You don’t have to ask.”
“I do.” I replied. “I do, because I don’t know what we are. We’re in this foggy place where I know I should keep my hands off, but my body wants—”
Footsteps behind me pulled me away from her and I looked up to see Beam standing there. Instead of speaking, I placed money on the table to cover our bill and a tip, then exhaled.
“We should head back,” I said. “Tex has info for us.”
We stopped to get a small printer—Tex had warned me we would need it.
Taz didn’t question it.
All the way back, I couldn’t seem to control the pulse of my body.
She drove us back to the house and Beam set to work printing everything off.
“Darby?” Taz called.
Beam and I exchanged looks, but neither of us said anything.
While Taz moved through the house calling for Darby, I got us cold drinks to help our bodies from the outside heat and sat with Beam to put the papers and pictures together.
When I gathered the information, it might as well have been in French.
“He’s not back?” I asked a worried Taz.
“No. And I tried calling his phone but he’s not picking up.”
“You go through this information, and I’ll talk to Tex to see if the tracker is still online.” I advised her, getting up so she can take my seat.
“Yeah, the tracker has about two hours left.” Tex told me. “He’s heading in the direction of the house. But he made a stop at that club you guys still need to hit.”
