at keeping secrets than I gave him credit for.”
She went rigid again. “My parents… my parents died in a car crash. He was up for the partnership my dad got just a few weeks earlier. You don’t think he could have done that?” She sounded shaken to the core.
“I’ll find out, if I have to rip off his face to make him talk,” Tex snarled, hearing how ridiculous it sounded.
Laura’s answering laugh was strained. “Right now, I will settle for solid land under my feet again,” she said plaintively. “Gory revenge can wait.”
The phone, even though it declared a few percent battery remaining, gave a chirp of protest and shut down. The sudden darkness was stark.
Laura shivered, and Tex wrapped his arms around her, willing more of his warmth into her. He couldn’t imagine how it felt, finding out someone she’d trusted had betrayed her.
“I wonder where the otter went,” Laura said softly.
“I guess it figured it had done its duty by saving us,” Tex shrugged.
There was a streak of light at the horizon, and just as Tex was wondering if he’d imagined it, a star of light exploded in the sky above it, followed by a distant boom.
“We’re missing the fireworks!” Laura said with a little laugh.
“You kidding?” Tex said, determined to maintain morale. “We have the best seats in the house. From the resort, there’d be palm trees marring up the view. Everyone fighting over the best chairs.”
“Jessica Linn would be drunk and bitchy,” Laura chuckled. “I’d be sorely tempted to tip her into the pool.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Tex agreed. “Wish I thought of it sooner.”
The first fireworks were swiftly followed by more. It was a great show, with swirling white candles, and trailing golden globes. A series of red crackers looked a little like a dragon before fading into smoke.
“They’ll be having a bonfire on the beach now,” Laura said wistfully. “It must be past midnight.”
“I’d be set up at the beach bar,” Tex said. “And no one would be able to understand that no, I don’t have anything on tap there. And no, I didn’t haul down the entire collection of single malt scotches. Bastian is probably already out of tiny umbrellas.”
“Who do you think won the Mr. World Shifter competition?”
“Mr. Brazil,” Tex guessed. “He took the Mr. Speed contest without trouble, and his speech was lovely.”
“Nah,” Laura said. “He just didn’t have the same charisma as some of the others. And Mr. India was a better speaker.”
A green shower of sparkles lit up the water in reflections, followed by a rainbow of explosions and a coil of white, sizzling lights.
“Mr. Ireland got the most popular votes,” Tex said thoughtfully.
“That will get him the Mr. Internet title, but it won’t win him the Mr. Shifter title,” Laura said decisively. “His speech went over on the time, so he probably lost points for it. I desperately hope Mr. Canada goes away without placing. I can’t believe he won the swimsuit portion.”
An amethyst waterfall of spinning lights sparkled off of the waves.
“I wouldn’t discount Mr. South Africa,” Tex said. “He was in second for the race.”
“You were keeping pretty close tabs on these standings,” Laura observed wryly.
“It was a little hard to miss what was going on, even if I was being distracted by the hottest thing I’d ever seen in life,” Tex told her.
Laura waited a beat, then teased, “You mean Mr. Brazil, right?”
“I mean, you, you sexy vixen,” Tex told her, managing to goose her with one quick arm.
She squeaked and giggled, nearly capsizing them.
They stilled, watching the fireworks continue to dazzle the sky, and Laura poked Tex. “Why haven’t you ever sung to me?”