Wrong Bed Baby (Crescent Cove 10)

I had to chuckle. “Actually, Lucky brought all these dudes.” I gestured around us.

The rooftop area was pretty packed. Most everyone had broken off into couples or groups to talk and laugh. Bodies pressed close flirtatiously. Some people were even dancing.

Not me. With my toe, I’d probably somehow pitch myself off the roof.

Then again, a lawsuit might set me up for life. Forrester had the cash to spare. Assuming Luna didn’t tell anyone how much questionable rum I’d consumed like a dumbass beforehand.

“He didn’t stay in school long enough to learn how to count very well,” I added, chewing on a piece of cucumber since it was there. “I said a couple. Max three.”

“Seems like he tacked a zero onto the end of that number,” she said drily.

It wasn’t quite that bad, but Lucky was on my shit list, regardless. Especially since he had some tiny little thing on his lap as he fed her from a skewer of tropical fruit. I didn’t know if she was another neighbor or where she’d come from. Maybe he’d brought a date. Why not, since he’d invited half of Crescent Cove anyway?

“I wanted her to find someone. You know, since she couldn’t find me.”

Bess nodded with sympathy for my plight, although I wasn’t sure she knew who or what I was talking about. “That was kind of you.”

“I thought so. Maybe not. I think I’ve lost my game.”

She stopped assembling her own mini sandwich with an assortment of vegetables to lean forward, her brow furrowed. “Like a handheld device?”

My laugh sounded rusty. “No, like you know, my ability with women. I used to be extremely popular.”

“Oh. Naturally.”

“I’m not going to say I had to beat them off with sticks or anything, but it was pretty close.”

She nibbled her sandwich delicately. “I can see that.”

“You can?” I hated the desperation in my voice. I’d probably regret this conversation tomorrow when I sobered up—because my current state could not be my real personality now, nope, nuh-uh—but right now, I appreciated any crumb an attractive woman threw my way. “If I could dance, you’d be impressed with my moves too.”

“Oh, would I now?”

I jerked a shoulder. “Just saying. I have them.”

“I would think nothing less of you.”

“Luna left, didn’t she?” I asked moodily, swinging my gaze around the rooftop in a wide arc that almost levered my head right off my neck.

“No, I don’t think so.” Bess shifted around to check. “She was dancing with Kylie a little while ago. Then Justin, Kylie’s beau, came up here and then they disappeared. Not sure where Luna got off to. Knowing her, she went to replenish the refreshments.”

“You think so?” I swiveled in my chair to look behind me just as Lucky climbed up on a chair and shouted about changing the playlist. His bouncy, fruit-loving friend was nowhere in sight.

A minute later, hip hop music boomed out of unseen speakers, the kind of stuff fitting for a club. That wasn’t Lucky’s preferred genre usually, but he hopped down to bump ’n grind with yet another woman, this one with long dark hair and a giggle piercing enough to make me rub my temple.

“Where did all of these people come from,” I said under my breath to no one in particular.

Bess seemed similarly mystified. “Did he pass out flyers? I don’t recognize most of them.”

“You and me both. I know a few new tenants just moved in, like me. Hey, you live here too?” I cocked my head at Bess.

“I do.” Her small smile was indulgent. She probably saw me as an equivalent to a dopey grandson, assuming she had one of those. “In fact, if local legend can be believed, I’m reasonably sure your niece was conceived in my apartment.”

I’d made the mistake of taking a sip of something alcoholic. I choked and it spewed over the leftover vegetables on my plate as Bess handed me a cocktail napkin without blinking.

“Which one?” I forced out. “I have two.” Then I held up a hand. “No, please. I’m already seasick.” I frowned. “Is this roof moving?”

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t.” She leaned forward to press the inside of her wrist to my forehead. “You’re not feverish. Must just be too much drink.”