Page 95 of Stone Temptation

“Tea?”

“Got anything stronger?”

He hung his keys up on a little hook by the door. “Already?”

“Been a long night.”

“It’s morning.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’ve got some beer, I think.”

“No cocktails?”

“Maybe another night.”

“Beer it is.”

He sorted that for me, getting one for himself.

We clinked the glass bottles, taking a deep swig at the same time. Even did the ‘Ah!’ thing with impeccable timing.

“Show you upstairs?” he suggested.

Where your bed lives? “Lead the way.”

The black-and-white décor of his bedroom wasn’t too cold, but pretty minimal compared to mine. But the black carpet was nice and plush under my feet—the only carpet in the lighthouse, wooden flooring everywhere else. His room smelled of jasmine, his shelves loaded with a massive vinyl collection.

“All jazz?” I asked.

“Yes.” He patted his record player over by the window. “My baby. Anyway, the bathroom is next door,” he said. “Just the one.”

I swigged more beer.

“Finn’s room is on the floor above this one. Off limits. Past that is the watch room. Feel free to go up there. Views are awesome.”

“Does the lantern still work?”

“No.”

“Cool. Got it.”

He sat on the bed, taking a sip of beer. “How about a film later?”

As nice as that sounded, I had to be real here. “I’m gonna need to explore the town first. You’ll have to come with me.”

He nodded, saying nothing.

“Then it’s all about Titanic.”

Ah, his smile was glorious.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, Luke. Followed by Die Hard.”

“Deal.”