Cupid in Crisis

by Amanda M. Lee

  Cupid in Crisis

  A Moonstone Bay Cozy Mystery Short

  Amanda M. Lee

  WinchesterShaw Publications

  Copyright © 2019 by Amanda M. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  One

  It was hot.

  Of course, on Moonstone Bay it’s always hot. That’s what you accept as a default when you decide to make a tropical island your home. Still, it was hot even by Moonstone Bay’s standards, which was saying something.

  I used the back of my arm to brush sweat off my forehead as I gripped a paintbrush and focused on the task at hand. I was supposed to be painting the fence surrounding the Moonstone Bay Cabana Clutch Hotel. No, I’ve never understood the name. To me, a clutch is a purse, and the hotel looks nothing like a purse. I suppose that’s why I wasn’t in charge of naming things. Apparently I lack vision.

  “Booker, I brought you a fresh pitcher of iced tea,” a voice called out.

  I looked to the east and fixed the woman walking onto the back patio with a surprised look. June Seaver, the owner of the hotel, is a nice woman I’ve known my entire life. She could never be considered stealthy. I pride myself on being aware of my surroundings, so I really must have been lost in thought for her to be able to sneak up on me.

  I mean … I’m not a super spy or anything. I have only one word for a name – Booker – so I could be a spy if I wanted to. No, seriously. Booker would make a great spy name. I’ve often thought that. The only thing I don’t like about the idea of being a spy is all the espionage stuff … like jumping from planes and risking my life. I would like to be a spy who paints fences. What? Painting calms me.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Seaver,” I sang out in the way I knew she would enjoy. She’s eighty and still feisty, and a big fan of sarcasm. She told me that when I was a kid and she separated me and another boy because we’d been fighting. She used our ears to do it, and I remember it hurt, but not enough that I didn’t give her a little lip. The kid I was fighting, Galen Blackwood, did the same. She was having none of it, though, and put us both in our places.

  It’s no wonder we are still loyal to her twenty years later, which is exactly why I’m painting a fence in heat and humidity strong enough to choke the life out of a tropical forest.

  “I cut up lemons and everything,” she supplied as she rested the pitcher on a wrought-iron table in the shade. “I know how you like things that are sour, which explains your disposition.”

  Despite myself and the discomfort rolling through me thanks to the oppressive heat, I chuckled. “I do like sour things.”

  “Uh-huh. I knew that.” She bobbed her head and grabbed two plastic cups from the edge of the table. “You want some, don’t you?”

  “Actually, that sounds great.” I dropped the paintbrush into the tray and trudged over to her. “It’s even hotter than usual today. I guess I know what it’s like to live inside a furnace now.”

  “Oh, it’s not so bad,” she chided, handing me a glass of iced tea, which I greedily downed without taking a breath. She arched an eyebrow and waited for me to finish, making a tsking sound when I wiped my mouth with my arm. “Give me that,” she commanded, and then refilled my glass. “That right there is the reason you can’t keep a woman.”

  I scowled as she shot me a knowing look. She was practically daring me to argue with her. On a normal day, I wouldn’t have bothered. Given how I felt today – the heat and humidity were tag teaming to give me one heckuva migraine – I considered taking her on. That would be a mistake, but apparently I couldn’t stop myself. “I’ll have you know that women everywhere throw themselves at me. They can’t get enough of me.”

  Mrs. Seaver didn’t look impressed with the pronouncement. “Yes, you certainly do attract them,” she volunteered after a beat. “But you can’t keep them. There’s the difference.”

  “What makes you think I want to keep them?” I threw myself in one of the chairs and sighed when the air conditioning from the nearby open door blasted me full-on. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  She chuckled as she poured her own glass of iced tea. She’s slight in stature, but has a voice that can carry over three beaches – and she’s never shy about making her opinion known. That’s only one of the reasons I adore her. She’s like the grandmother I never had.

  Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have grandmothers. Two of them. They’re both still alive. They’re cranky old birds, and they both hold high stations in the cupid hierarchy. That’s right, I’m a cupid. Go ahead and laugh. You won’t be the first to find my genetics entertaining. If I didn’t hate being a cupid so much, I would join you.

  As for my grandmothers, they believe they’re above everyone else. They never once pulled my ear when I was a kid out of fear of touching wax … or sweat. In fact, if they had witnessed me fighting with Galen they would’ve encouraged me to kill him. Did I mention they’re lovely women?

  “Do you think I don’t keep track of you even when you’re too busy to stop by for a visit?” Mrs. Seaver challenged pointedly. “Just because you don’t have time for me doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you. I happen to know that you’re not dating anyone seriously, because the whole town would be talking if you had finally settled down.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re still aces when it comes to guilt trips, Mrs. Seaver.”

  “I do have a gift,” she agreed, grinning. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re not settling down with a nice woman and preparing to raise a family. You’re getting to about that age.”

  I involuntarily shuddered at the image. “I don’t think I’m geared for domestic life,” I offered after a moment’s contemplation. “I’m like a tumbleweed. I blow wherever the wind takes me.”

  Mrs. Seaver rolled her eyes. “You’re like a fertilizer plant.”

  “Full of crap?”

  She grinned and pointed. “You’re smarter than you look. You still need a good woman to settle down with. You’ll miss out on the best things in life if you don’t get yourself together.”

  Apparently we didn’t agree on what constitutes the best things in life. “I don’t think that’s in my future.” I chose my words carefully. “Some men aren’t meant to settle down, have kids, and spend most of their lives with one woman. Some men – and I’m not saying I’m definitely one of them, but it’s starting to look that way – like to spread the wealth.”

  June didn’t look impressed with my philosophy. “Oh, you’re so full of it.” She wrinkled her forehead. “You want children. I know you do. I’ve seen you with the kids at the park. You play soccer with them … and even baseball sometimes. You like kids.”

  “I can still like kids without having any.”

  “It’s not the same thing.” Mrs. Seaver said firmly. “If you don’t have kids of your own you’ll regret it.”

  “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

  “Who knows you best?”

  That was an interesting question. I didn’t have an answer, so I decided to change the subject. “I have to find a woman who doesn’t annoy me after three hours. That miraculous feat has yet to happe
n.”

  “What about the Potter girl?”

  It took me a moment to realize who she was referring to. “Hadley?” I almost choked at the notion. “I would have to deafen myself with Q-tips if I tried to date her. Her last name is Hunter, by the way.”

  June didn’t look convinced. “You spend a lot of time with her. I’ve seen you together. Heck, I’ve heard from others who have seen you together. There’s a rumor you’re having an affair.”

  That was news to me. “She’s not married. It would hardly be an affair.”

  “Ha!” June extended a finger in my direction, her eyes lighting up. “You’ve thought about it enough to convince yourself it wouldn’t be an affair. You have feelings for her.”

  In truth, I did have feelings for Hadley. They weren’t even close to what Mrs. Seaver insinuated, though. “I like her as a friend,” I stressed. “There’s nothing else between us … and I mean nothing. She’s with Galen. You remember Galen?”

  “I do.” June bobbed her head without hesitation. “He’s another of my favorite island sons. He checks on me more frequently than you, even though I worry about you more. What do you think that says about me?”

  I looked up into the blazing sun. “I’ve never really thought about it. What do you think it says about you?”

  “That I’m not particularly worried about Galen,” she replied without hesitation. “He’ll settle down like a good boy. He was built for one woman, and will be happy to get married and start popping out little wolves.”

  Galen was a wolf shifter, but it was still an amusing image. “I agree with you. About Galen, I mean. Hadley is his one woman. You probably shouldn’t be trying to give her to me.”

  June made a face. “That’s not what I’m doing. I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to encourage you to steal Galen’s girlfriend. I don’t condone that stuff … and you did enough of it in high school.”

  I smiled at the memory. As a cupid, I possess a unique ability to attract women. They can’t help themselves. As Galen and I continuously competed over the years I occasionally went after a girlfriend or two to keep him on his toes. He’s not a fan of being reminded of it … and he often watches Hadley like a hawk when we are hanging out together.

  “I couldn’t steal Hadley even if I wanted to,” I volunteered as I swirled the ice in my glass. “She’s immune to my powers.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Seaver appeared even more intrigued. “That must make her all but irresistible to you.”

  That was an interesting way of putting it. “Not really. If you’d ever spent time with her, you would know she never shuts up. She’s a fountain of annoying questions. I mean … we’re talking ridiculous stuff. She’s new to the paranormal life, but she wants to learn everything she can in five minutes flat.”

  “And you don’t want to teach her?”

  “I need quiet.” That was the simplest answer I could provide. “She refuses to just sit still and be quiet for even five minutes. Even though she’s pretty and sometimes funny, we’re not a match. She belongs with Galen.”

  June cocked her head to the side, intrigue flitting over her soft features. “Ten years ago you would’ve said the same thing. Only then you would’ve headed out to flirt with her just to annoy him. What’s changed?”

  I shrugged. That wasn’t easy to answer. “I don’t know,” I replied finally. “Galen isn’t as annoying as I thought he was. I’m not saying I want to be best friends with him or anything, but he has a job to do and it’s not always comfortable.”

  “Not at all,” June agreed readily. “Galen has an orderly mind. He’s very good when it comes to his job. He has a pretty good temperament for law enforcement. But I’m curious. You said this Hadley is talkative. Galen doesn’t strike me as someone who would be comfortable listening to a woman spout drivel for hours on end.”

  “I didn’t say she was spouting drivel,” I cautioned, searching for the correct words. The last thing I need is Mrs. Seaver repeating what I said to Galen. It would make him cranky. “It’s just … she likes to hear herself talk. She wants to know about paranormals … and Wesley and May … and Galen’s work … and my work … and how Lilac is half-demon but doesn’t turn evil. She’s exhausting.”

  Mrs. Seaver chuckled, genuinely tickled. “She sounds delightful. I’ll have to take some time to visit the lighthouse and talk to her one of these afternoons. She sounds fascinating.”

  “Better you than me.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re fond of her. That’s written all over your face. You recognize she belongs with Galen, though. I find that … interesting.”

  I bit back a sigh. “Listen … .”

  “I’m not done talking.” She held up a hand to still me. “Young you would’ve tried to go after her just to prove a point to Galen. You can deny it all you want, but you know it’s true. I think that shows real growth. I’m proud of the man you’ve grown into.”

  I swallowed hard, surprised at the lump in my throat. From Mrs. Seaver, that meant everything. She couldn’t possibly know that, though. “I’m just a man who doesn’t like chatter.”

  “You’re trying to be an enigma,” she countered. “You try to deflect from your true emotions. The act sometimes gets annoying, you know.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I reached for the pitcher to refill my glass. “What’s going on with you? How has business been treating you?”

  “It’s all right.” She was suddenly evasive. “You know how that goes. There are good times and bad when it comes to running a business.”

  She was a master at covering, but I could read her better than most. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not wrong,” she replied hurriedly. “It’s just … there’s a lot going on.” She exhaled heavily when I kept my eyes pinned on her. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Not if I can help.”

  “You can’t help. This is something I have to handle.”

  “I prefer being the judge of that.” Externally, I was calm. Internally, I worried. If she needed help, I would see that she got it. I have a few friends who would join with me to make certain she was okay. She was important to a lot of people, even if she didn’t realize it. “Tell me.”

  “The DDA has been making noise,” she started, causing me to growl at mention of the Downtown Development Authority, a group of small business owners who had managed to take control of the island. “They want to buy the property.”

  “Why?” I wasn’t exactly surprised that the DDA was sniffing around. Mrs. Seaver is old and has no heirs. She’s nowhere near shuffling off the mortal coil, though, so there’s no reason for them to push her quite yet. Property on Moonstone Bay is at a premium. People wait years to get their hands on it. Apparently the DDA was jumping the gun where Mrs. Seaver’s hotel is concerned.

  “I don’t know why,” she shook her head. “They haven’t said. I guess they want to tear down my hotel and build a newer, flashy one. They’re always complaining that we don’t have enough rooms for tourists, and my place is old. If they get their hands on the property they could add hundreds of rooms.”

  I didn’t like that idea in the least. The hotel is definitely old, but it has charm. Personality is underrated when it comes to hotels, if you ask me. “I’ll talk to them,” I offered before I got a chance to seriously consider what I was saying. “You don’t have to worry about this. I’ll fix it.”

  She almost looked amused at my reaction. “I’m not worried about it. They can’t take the hotel unless I fall behind on a fee, and I haven’t done that yet. In fact, I have some modeling shoot that’s going to be held here this weekend. The organizers are paying me enough money to cover my DDA fees for an entire year. I’ll be sitting pretty for the foreseeable future. You have nothing to worry about.”

  That was a small comfort, but I wasn’t ready to let it go. “I still don’t like that they’re bothering you.” I meant it. “They should find something better to do with t
heir time.”

  “I’m pretty sure anyone who has ever crossed paths with them agrees with that.” Mrs. Seaver’s smile was benign. “I don’t want to talk about serious stuff. Go back to Hadley. I want to hear about how she’s perfect for Galen.”

  I made a face. “I don’t want to talk about them. I mean … they’re my friends, but the subject is boring.”

  “Galen is your friend?” She arched an amused eyebrow. “I thought I’d never see the day you’d admit that.”

  My cheeks burned hot under her amused gaze. “Don’t get too excited. I didn’t mean it the way you took it. We’re not friends. We’re just not the sort of people who want to kill each other.”

  “No. You said friends.” A delighted laugh bubbled up as she stood and grabbed the pitcher. “I’ll get some more iced tea. You need to keep hydrated in this heat. I don’t want you to get sick. Your friends would miss you.”

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I glowered as she laughed and headed for the door.

  Her knee buckled and she pitched forward, the iced tea pitcher clattering across the floor as she held out a hand to brace herself. There was a twisted expression on her face and I knew she was in pain. I couldn’t get to her side fast enough.

  “June!” I raced toward her.

  This wasn’t good. This so wasn’t good.

  Two

  She was unconscious when I got to her. For the first time since I’d met her, I gave real thought to her age … and then called for help when a wave of nauseating fear threatened to overwhelm me. I like to think I’m calm under pressure, but I’m not ashamed to admit I was a basket case as I sat with her waiting for the ambulance to arrive. By the time the paramedics poured onto the patio, she was beginning to stir.