Chapter Six
Charlotte cinched the tie on her robe and headed for the kitchen. As she rounded the corner, she gasped, waking the pirate on her couch.
Keegan sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He shook his head, meeting her eyes. “You get up early.”
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was strident, her nerves jangled by the surprise of someone being in her house. “How did you get in?”
“Pirate, remember?” He followed her into the kitchen. “But I refrained from pilfering your silver.”
She spun around, pointing at his chest with a shaky hand. “If you ever show up unannounced again, I’m calling the police. God, you gave me a heart attack.”
His features softened. Not quite regret, but it was clear terrifying her hadn’t been his intention. “Sorry, love. It was late when I realized the serpents might already know where you live. I came back over and picked the lock.” He glanced at the door. “You need a security system.”
“I’m fine, and I can protect myself. I have a Taser and I know how to use it.” She tried to stay annoyed with him, but damn, Keegan managed to make messy hair and puffy eyes sexy, and his intentions seemed to be on the up and up.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He leaned against her fridge. “Just wanted to keep the snakes out, lass.”
She popped an English muffin into the toaster.
“Why would the Serpent Society come after me? They don’t even know I exist.” She buttered the English muffin and allowed herself to glance his way. “And why do you care?”
His lips quirked into a sexy smile. “Because you puzzle me, lass, and that’s a rare thing when you’ve been alive as long as I have.” His eyes slid to her door and back, his expression somber. “There’s enough blood on my hands. I’m not plannin’ on addin’ yours to the mix.”
She put another muffin in the toaster and handed him a plate with the buttered one. “Can I ask you something?”
He took it, the spark returning to his green eyes. “You can ask, but I may not answer.”
“Fair enough.” She rested against the cabinet next to the toaster. “Most of your crew cashed in some of their treasure and bought land in Savannah, but you waited. Why?”
He took a bite of the English muffin. “Didn’t see a need. I had a place to stay. Didn’t want to be tied down. Any of those reasons would be true.”
“I checked the address. For more than a hundred years, it was the St. Mary’s Home, one of the oldest orphanages in Savannah. It belongs to the diocese now.”
He set the plate aside. “What are you really asking me?”
The toaster popped, giving her an excuse to break eye contact and put the toasted muffin on a plate. “I’m asking why you donated your property to the nuns for the orphanage.”
He crossed to her and took her shoulders, turning her around to face him. His body heat reminded her that only her robe and a thin nightgown separated their bodies. When she looked up, his gaze was intense, demanding her attention.
“The only thing that can turn immortality into torture…is love.” He took a step back, his hands falling to his sides. “I best be going.”
“Keegan, wait.” Her heart stuttered as he met her eyes. The twinkle was gone, overshadowed by a sadness she didn’t understand. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you for watching over me last night.”
He nodded. “Get an alarm system.”
And without another word, he walked out. Charlotte locked the door and pulled in a slow breath. The pain in his eyes haunted her. She’d obviously poked at an old wound.
It was none of her business anyway.
Right now, the top priority was getting to work and digging up something on the Serpent Society.
…
Charlotte settled behind her desk and opened her email. Before she could read any, Bruce filled her doorway. “Morning, Dr. Sinclair. Can I interrupt you for a moment?”
“Sure.” She gestured to the seat across from her. “What’s up?”
Bruce took it, but he didn’t settle back into the chair. His posture was upright, ready to leave at any moment. “It’s about Agent Bale.”
She raised a brow. “All right.”
“I’m regretting that I gave him access to you.”
“And why is that?”
“You’re our lead on the upcoming Pieces of Eight exhibition. Without your full attention, I don’t see how we’ll meet the deadline.”
Charlotte chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about. I was ahead of schedule before this project fell in my lap. Everything will be ready.”
His expression lightened. “Good to hear.” He glanced at her desk. “Anything I can help you with?”
“Sadly, no.” She met his eyes. “Weird as it sounds, my work for Agent Bale is classified. National security.”
Bruce nodded slowly and stood. “I guess I’ve taken enough of your time.” He went to the door and turned back. “Maybe we could get a drink after work?”
Her toes curled in her pumps. Did Dr. Bruce Trumain just ask her out? A few weeks ago, she would’ve been a puddle on the floor, but now, she stared at his broad shoulders and wild black curls and saw…a peer. Her boss.
“Sure. That’d be nice.”
“Great. Maybe the pub around the corner?” He smiled, a dimple forming in his right cheek. She used to live for those rare moments when that precious divot would appear.
Today, she barely noticed it.
“Sounds good.” She nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
He walked away, and she rocked back in her chair. This would be a chance to get to know Bruce better and maybe get a certain pirate out of her system.
She brought up a map of Savannah from the early 1800s and started digging. If the Serpent Society hadn’t died out, where would they hide?
Lunch was a blur, consumed at her desk while she pored over street maps, bank notes, and business licenses, searching for…she wasn’t sure. All she could do was hope she’d recognize it when she found it.
“This is your five-minute warning.”
Charlotte popped her head up from the survey maps. “What?”
“Almost closin’ time. ” Louise chuckled, shaking her head. “You work way too hard, girl. You’re gonna wake up one day and realize you missed your life while you had your nose buried in the past.”
Charlotte tidied her desk. “Have you been talking to my mother?”
“No, but she sounds like a wise woman.” Louise smiled as she turned to go.
Wise? Not really. A poor woman, living from paycheck to paycheck.
Charlotte shut down her computer, unwilling to wander down that well-worn path of memories. Once her desk was back in order, she grabbed her purse, stopping in the ladies’ room to reapply her lipstick on the way out.
The pub was dimly lit and loud, but the location was tough to beat, a block away from the river and walking distance from the maritime museum. She stepped inside, waiting for her eyes to adjust when a familiar hand waved from the back. She made her way to Bruce’s table and took the chair across from him.
“Good to see you.” He smiled, and she waited for her heart to race or her palms to sweat.
Nothing.
She set her purse beside her feet. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“What can I order you to drink?”
“I’ll take a Guinness, please.”
“I’ll be right back.” He went to the bar, and she scanned the room.
Her mind was far from the pub. Right before Louise interrupted her, she’d found an interesting anomaly. Three buildings in the historic district of Savannah, rebuilt after the great fire of 1796, weren’t lined up the same as they had been before the blaze.
The new buildings were staggered, with a path among them that made a serpentine shape. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?
“If you ordered rum, I would’ve been hurt.”
She’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Charlotte spun around in her chair. “Keegan! What are you doing here?”
He nodded toward the stage. “Scallywags tonight. No rest for the wicked, lass.” He pointed at the bar. “Who’s the lubber in the tie?”
“Be nice.” She chuckled. “He’s my boss.”
Keegan raised a brow. “Boss is buying you a drink? He wants to sign more than your paycheck.”
She shot her elbow back, connecting with his side. “Like you don’t.”
“We do have unfinished business.” He leaned in closer, his lips teasing her ear as he whispered, “He’s all wrong for you anyway.”
She glanced back at him. “I’m dying to hear this one.”
His gaze went to the bar where Bruce was handing over his credit card. Keegan stayed in close, his body heat warming her back. “First off, Char is too much woman for him. He’d never understand her need for freedom. Look at those shoes. He’s never stepped in the dirt, let alone left the land. And he probably keeps a calendar on his phone, checkin’ it over and over until he misses out on your date because he’s too busy worryin’ about the future.”
He shook his head, meeting her eyes. “Char likes to dance and sing.” He tugged the stick from her hair, smiling as her long tresses fell down her back. “And she should always have her hair down.”
Bruce came back with a glass in each hand and questions in his eyes.
She smiled. “Dr. Trumain, this is Keegan, the lead singer for The Scallywags.”
“The Scallywags?” He set the glasses on the table and straightened to offer his hand.
The two men were about the same height, but that was where the similarities ended. Keegan was sporting ripped jeans and a tight distressed tee, with just enough guyliner to make his green eyes impossible to miss and a barely five o’clock shadow across his jaw. While Bruce was still in his sport coat and khakis, his tie pinned to his white button-down shirt, and his face was freshly shaved.
The only hint at wildness were the chaotic black curls in his hair.
Keegan took his hand, tipping his head toward the stage. “We’ll be playin’ tonight.”
“Music?”
Charlotte bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Since she started working at the museum, she’d put so much effort into catching her boss’s attention, but she obviously missed how out of touch he was. His studious mind had been what first attracted her.
Keegan’s rough hand rested on her shoulder, short-circuiting her thoughts for a second and making it tough to think of anything else.
“Aye. Southern rock mostly with some seafarin’ flavor on the side.”
Bruce nodded, but it was plain on his face, he had no idea what any of that meant.
Charlotte cleared her throat. Time to end the awkwardness. “Hope you have a great show tonight.”
Keegan squeezed her shoulder. “Unfinished business.”
He walked away, giving her a great view of his ass in those jeans. Damn.
“What business?”
She flinched, snapping her head toward Bruce. “Oh. Um. Just. I like the band and I was…making some posters.”
God, she sucked at lying. She did her best not to cringe and prayed he’d buy it.
“You’ll have to share some of your time management tips with me later. I don’t know how you juggle a special project for the government, heading up our upcoming exhibition, and doing graphic design for a local band, too.”
“It’s a balancing act.” She took a sip of her Guinness.
In her head, a date with Bruce shouldn’t have been awkward. They’d talk about history, new discoveries, and restorative techniques. Maybe they’d even postulate about unsolved historical mysteries.
She never imagined she’d finally be sitting with him, only to find herself wishing she was at the bar with a pirate.
This was insane.
Keegan glanced her way, the corner of his mouth curving when he caught her eyeing him. She forced herself to focus on Bruce.
And he was checking his calendar on his phone.
She rubbed her forehead, biting back the laughter aching to break free.
He finally set his cell on the table. “Sorry about that. I was just shifting around a couple of things on my schedule.”
“No problem.” She placed her glass on the table and settled back into her chair. “I can’t believe we’ve worked together for two years and this is our first beer after work.”
Smooth, Charlotte.
“Has it been two years already?” He shook his head and froze as he met her eyes. “Was your hair down before?”
“No.” She reached up to start twisting it back into a bun, but he caught her wrist.
“Leave it down.” He swallowed. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Finally, her heart responded, pounding in her ears. She dropped her hands into her lap. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “When you first came to the maritime museum, I admired your work ethic. I guess I’ve been too busy to admire much else. Thanks for giving me the chance to change that.”
His awkwardness and honesty warmed her belly, or maybe that was the Guinness. Either way, in spite of Keegan’s warning, she was going to enjoy spending time with Bruce.
Or at least try.
…
Keegan paced along the side of the stage, trying his damnedest not to look at Char laughing with her boss. Why the hell should he care?
He shouldn’t. Caring could ruin his relationship with immortality.
But fuck it all, seeing her with another man pissed him off. He slammed his glass on the bar harder than he intended, his jaw tight with frustration.
“You okay, man?” Gary asked, hooking his bass guitar over his shoulder.
“Aye.” Keegan nodded. “Just need to be onstage.” With any luck, the spotlight would blot out the crowd.
The music took some of the edge off. Sweat rolled down his back as the patrons made their way forward to dance. Gradually his agitation faded, all his energy channeling into the songs.
Until he noticed Char out of the corner of his eye. No sign of her boss, though. He leaned into the mic. “This one is for unfinished business.”
Her gaze met his as they started their cover of “Just A Song Before I Go.” God, if he didn’t get this woman out of his system, he would most definitely get burned. Or go mad. Or both.
After the final chord, the crowd cheered, and the band took a bow. Keegan jogged off to get his coat for the final encore. As he reached for the second sleeve, someone lifted it onto his shoulders. He turned to find Char staring up at him with that wicked smile begging to be kissed.
“‘Leaving of Liverpool,’ know that one?”
“Aye.” He chuckled and brushed a kiss to her forehead, not bothering to cover his accent. “Ye’ve got mighty fine taste in pirate shanties, lass.” Grabbing his guitar, he took the stage. “Fare thee well, me hearties!”
The audience roared as he belted out the shanty, but he barely noticed. Char danced at the edge of the stage, her smile turning him inside out. She was so damn beautiful. Free.
He picked up the tempo, grateful that he could sing the verses in his sleep.
Because right now, he was completely preoccupied with unfinished business.