Wrong Bed Baby: Crescent Cove Book 10

by Quinn, Taryn

  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.”

  “I’m a teacher,” I said indignantly. “I know my limits.”

  Too bad I never managed to abide by them lately.

  “You have two nieces?”

  I nodded, trying valiantly not to lay my head down in my plate.

  “That’s lovely. I have two granddaughters. My Asher has—”

  “Wait, Asher Wainwright?” The dots connecting made my brain hurt. “The podcast dude? Today’s show is about an ax murderer. Dammit, I missed it.” I put my watch up to my ear.

  “Pretty sure that’s not how that works.” She shook her head and started to rise, swirling the voluminous folds of brightly colored fabric that draped around her. “I’m going to find Luna, see if she has any suggestions for…this.” She waved a hand at me and I couldn’t even object at being a this. I’d have to climb up several levels to hit that status right now. “She’s mentioned a hangover cure that could work for what ails you.”

  “I’m not hungover. I haven’t made it to morning yet.”

  But Bess was looking around, a quizzical expression on her face. “Or you mentioned Lucky? The boisterous one?”

  I snorted. “He’s an asshole. But I don’t need help. I’m good.” I lurched to my feet and admired the stars revolving above my head. How cool. “I got it,” I insisted, holding a hand out directly in front of me when Bess hurried around the table to offer me her support.

  “Lucky can just come downstairs with you, make sure you get in okay. Where did he get off to?”

  “Probably in that girl.” I grimaced and clutched my head. “Sorry, Bess. Ma’am.”

  She sighed. “You think you’re having a good day then you get ma’am-ed.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Or Miss? Whatever. Sorry, lady. I gotta go. Thanks for the advice.”

  “I didn’t give you any,” she called after me as I focused intently on making it to the door of the roof.

  Well, that explained why I didn’t feel any more enlightened.

  Through the miracle of gravity, I made my way down the stairs. I nearly fell into the wall when a pair of women started heading up the narrow staircase, but one of them offered a steadying hand and somehow slipped something in my pocket. I didn’t know if it was a roofie or her phone number. Either seemed equally possible. She and her friend were gone before I could get my wits about me enough to ask.

  I was tempted to shout after her, but at that moment, Christian Masterson appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his uniform hat set precisely on his head and his mouth in a grim line.

  “Beck. Why am I not surprised you’re part of this melee?”

  I frowned. I wasn’t at the peak of my wits right now, but I was pretty sure I was alone in the stairway—other than Christian himself of course. But looking around did not seem advisable right now, so I focused on the good officer’s unsmiling face.

  “It’s Lucky’s fault.”

  He nodded. “Also not surprising Roberts is involved.” He took out a notebook. “We’ve received numerous noise complaints. As well as,” he cleared his throat, “a report of a large male exposing himself as he urinated over the side of the roof.”

  I shouldn’t have laughed. It wasn’t funny. Or it wasn’t that funny. But hell if I didn’t have to grab my stomach as I barreled into the wall yet again.

  Christian, however, was not amused.

  “That wasn’t you, was it?”

  I grew serious immediately. Even toasted off my ass, I remembered just fine that I was employed by a Catholic elementary school, and Sister Tobias would not be amused by such antics from her educators. “Absolutely not. I’m more than the average eight inches, but I wouldn’t say—” I was pretty sure I giggled at Christian’s look of disgust. “Okay, fine, I can’t say I’m not large, but I didn’t pee off the roof. I don’t even have to go.”

  “Thank you for that needless explanation. A yes or no would’ve sufficed.” He started to push past me then stopped on the stair above me. “You live in this building?”

  I nodded, the movement seeming sluggish even to me. Obviously, I’d have to sleep this off. I was a hot mess, as the kids would say.

  God, I was getting old. Not even thirty yet, and I couldn’t handle my drink. Again.

  “Okay. Think you can get to your apartment on your own steam?”

  “Of course.” I stepped off the last step and fell into the door forehead-first at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Right. You seem in great shape.” Shaking his head, Christian blew out a breath and snapped his notebook shut before ascending the
last few steps to the roof.

  Once he’d gone, I took a deep breath and opened the door to the hallway. I could do this. A few more feet, and I’d be at my apartment.

  I shambled up the hall, cocking one eye open to watch the passing numbers. Just a few more doors and I’d be able to fall into my bed and sleep it off. And when I woke up, I would ensure there wasn’t any more alcohol in my apartment. Not even one drop.

  I tried one door and found it locked. Not mine. I’d left mine open. Crescent Cove was safe. Pretty safe, other than the risk of getting peed on if you passed by the Forrester Apartment building at the wrong time.

  Giggling again to myself, I leaned against the wall until my feet worked. My damn toe ached like a bitch. I was sure it was absence of Luna. Like that was a physical condition.

  Hey, if I could make it outside, maybe I could serenade her at her window. That was in a movie once, and the heroine had probably banged that dude senseless. Chicks loved sappy romantic gestures.

  Then again, if I even managed to get it up at this point, that’d be romantic enough.

  I continued on down the hall and turned another doorknob once I was reasonably sure I was in the right spot. This door swung open easily, and I smiled in triumph.

  Bingo.

  And Christian had wondered if I could handle finding my apartment. Pfft. I hadn’t had any issue.

  I stumbled inside, immediately assaulted by a cool water scent that made me sigh. Smelled so good. So soothing. That would appeal to all the hordes of women I wouldn’t be having sex with because of my ninja swimmers.

  Bummer for them.

  I bumped into something and frowned. That wasn’t where my couch was. Or was it? I’d moved things around more than once since moving in. Since when had I been so indecisive? I needed to put stuff in one place and keep it there.

  A shaft of moonlight through the wide windows illuminated a table with a vase of some green fern-y stuff. I frowned again. Did I have flowers? I didn’t think so. But I continued on, lured by the intriguing items strewn upon the floor of the open plan apartment so like my own. I followed them to the bedroom with its large dark blue bed, finally stopping by the foot to pick up a lacy bra dangling from the post. That definitely wasn’t mine. I checked the tag.

  38 DD. Damn. I had good taste.

  Hmm. I turned my head and took in the space. I noted a few girly touches like candles and glittery gems in piles or circles on top of pieces of furniture that could’ve come from my sister-in-law’s and my brother’s vintage shop. Then my gaze zeroed in on one particular artifact, one that I couldn’t forget in this lifetime or any other.

  Luna’s gleaming silver stripper pole.

  Shit, wrong apartment. What the hell was I doing here? New building or not, how did I screw up so badly? We were right across from each other, but this clearly wasn’t my place.

  I frowned as I stared at her bed and rubbed my aching temple. Bedding was piled high, with enough pillows that it probably felt like sleeping on a cloud. Not that I cared about such things when a woodpecker wasn’t trying to drill his way out of my skull. But right now, I wanted to dive in and sleep for a century.

  At least for a dozen hours or so.

  I gathered a handful of her silky sheets and breathed deep. Her bed smelled like a mixture of wildflowers and the ocean. All beachy and floral and sexy as hell. The combination shouldn’t have made me lightheaded, but none of my reactions to this woman made sense.

  Then again, the alcohol was probably helping. I was never drinking again.

  Nope.

  I glanced over my shoulder than back at the bed. Maybe I could just take a little nap? Luna wasn’t even here, and besides, it was the neighborly thing to do to offer comfort if possible. I was clearly ailing.

  Once I’d had a nap, I’d be on my way, with my head full of things that I shouldn’t know.

  Like her choice in bras. And her cup size. And what it was like to sleep in her bed, even if she didn’t happen to be there at the time.

  “Just a few minutes, I promise,” I muttered, slipping between the cool sheets. I groaned so loudly at the feel of her pillows beneath my aching head that I went still, fearing I’d somehow alert her wherever she’d gone. I didn’t think I was physically capable of getting up and leaving at this point.

  All I wanted was some time alone in her luxurious, sweetly fragranced bed. Please God. Just long enough to make the stabbing in my brain stop.

  This time, it wasn’t even caused by a homicidal neighbor. Although it just might be when Luna found me in her apartment.

  I grabbed for the item I’d dropped in my haste to lay down and brought it to my nose. And smiled at the scent of Luna on my face as I closed my eyes and prayed for oblivion.

  Six

  I climbed the stairs to my apartment. I’d be glad when the renovations were done and the elevator would be in working order. The stairs didn’t bother me for the most part—mostly just on grocery days.

  Right now, this sore body would have taken the elevator gladly.

  I had not intended to sleep on Ryan’s couch last night. I’d escaped the impromptu roof party to rescue my bestie. This heat wave was doing a number on everyone—including Ryan’s car. It had only made it a few blocks before overheating.

  Instead of dragging her back to the chaos of the roof, we’d decided watching This Means War with a bottle of wine was a way better use of our time.

  I’d lost count of how many times we’d watched that movie. But it was a comfort and the friendship in the movie matched our own. Funnily enough my new neighbor and his burly best friend reminded me a little of the male counterpoints in the movie.

  With more hair.

  There was definitely an air of competition between them, layered with an obvious love that few guys liked to show. I was waiting for Lucky to grab Caleb by the face and say, “I love you, man,” much like the guys in the movie.

  Maybe I’d get the chance with another party. I had a feeling it would be a recurring thing based on how quickly people arrived. There was little to do in the Cove after eight o’clock. Oh, there were a few restaurants like the Haunt, the Cove, the Mason Jar, and the Spinning Wheel that catered to the younger people in town—but when it came to summer there was nothing quite as good as a rooftop.

  Especially when those places required spending a bit more money than the average twenty-something had at hand.

  Speaking of…Responsibility weighed on me as I got down the hall. I really shouldn’t have left cleanup to Tabitha and Bess. Normally I enjoyed a bunch of happy people and I even got off on the energy exchange most of the time. However, I’d had a full week of heavy readings and the heat had kicked my ass.

  Even now, the hallway was oppressive at nine in the damn morning. I just wanted a shower and to sit under my overhead fan with the air conditioning on blast.

  “Come to mama.” I sighed and glanced down the hall. “After I check the roof.”

  Dutifully, I took a quick run up he stairs and found nothing amiss. The chairs were set back in their respective quadrants. There was even a new hammock set up that I didn’t recognize. “Bless you, Bess and Tabitha.”

  I could have kicked up my heels cartoon style as I got back down to my floor. I dug into my rainbow hemp bag for my keys, ignoring my buzzing phone. Ryan had sent me on my way this morning with thanks and a croissant. The only other person who would contact me right now would be looking for an “emergency” reading.

  Because tarot readings were not an emergency no matter what some of my regular clients thought, I ignored my phone. I gripped my doorknob and was about to insert my key when the door opened freely. I frowned.

  Had I forgot to lock it last night? I’d been in and out with all the food prep for the small party. Maybe the SOS call from Ryan had me running out without double checking.

  I frowned at the sandal in the middle of my floor.

  And because I’d been on my own since I was seventeen, I grabbed the retractable baton I ke
pt in the drawer of my kitchen island. I snapped it out and peered around my space.

  It didn’t look like anything had been stolen. More like someone had lumbered their way through Hulk-style. A few of my crystal towers were toppled over and a package of incense cones lay crushed on my rug.

  I scanned the room as I blindly rummaged into my bag for my phone, prepared to call for reinforcements. Luckily the Sheriff’s station was a short trip from my building. There were advantages to being located on Main Street.

  I held the baton facing down and away from me as I quietly crept through the main space. It was an open floorpan that was cut up by my furniture and, of course, the stripper pole I’d installed. Nothing seemed amiss beyond an orphaned sandal. My altar was the same way I left it yesterday. The swing I’d hung with August’s assistance was still, the little crystal sun catcher above it sparkling in the morning sun.

  The room didn’t feel wrong per say, but it definitely was full of energy that was not my own. I moved further into the adjoining hall that led to the bathroom and bedroom. The first thing I saw was a man splayed out face first on my bed.

  Naked.

  Well, mostly naked.

  I tightened my fingers on my baton.

  Khaki colored shorts were pooled next to the bed and a blue checkered shirt was twisted around his waist as if he’d only gotten it half off before crashing into my bed.

  My bed.

  What in the goddess?

  Was he…a snore answered the question before I could even ask it. One of the man’s feet was dangling off the edge of the bed since he was laying diagonally. I frowned at the tattered bandage on the toe.

  “Caleb?”

  He just kept snoring on.

  I resisted the urge to slap his bare foot with the baton. The thin tip would make him sorry he was alive—especially if I went for a particular part of the sole of his foot. I was an accomplished reflexology student. I knew where to hit where it would hurt for days.

  Unfortunately, I used my powers for good, not evil.

  And he’d been bumbling along adorably last night about his toe while trying to flirt with me. I was secure enough in my own self-worth to know when a man was into me. Even if I’d felt a tiny twinge about it since Tabitha had seemed interested enough to invite him to our little get together.