A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,131

more.”

Hailey Ravinder answered Sun’s soft knock on the front door to the Ravinders’ sprawling ranch house. The Ravinders used to live in squalor, their shacks, little better than tin cans, peppering the landscape. Levi started Dark River Shine and changed all of that. He’d taken them from the backwoods to Hollywood as his corn whiskey was very en vogue, a favorite among celebrities.

“Quincy Cooper?” Sun asked her, a wicked grin on her face. Yes, she was a twelve-year-old.

Hailey stepped over the threshold and eased the door closed. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see your brother.”

“Oh. Okay.” She seemed to deflate.

“Are you disappointed?”

“No. Not at all.”

Sun couldn’t help but notice Hailey had curled her hair and applied a touch of mascara and blush. She really was a beauty. Though her party years did roughen the edges a bit, she would be called a looker in anyone’s book.

Still, Hailey and Quincy? Her brain couldn’t quite make the connection.

Hailey chewed on a nail. “Did he say anything about me?”

“He didn’t give me a note to pass to you, if that’s what you’re wondering, but I do know he’s going to be at the hospital for a while. All alone. With no one to talk to.”

She smirked. “He’ll have Auri and Cruz.”

“Exactly. You know what it’s like talking to teens. He’ll lose what few marbles he has.”

“Jimmy has been bugging me to go see her.”

“See?” Look at her, all Cupidlike. “So, he’s apparently been interested in you for a while.”

“Why? Did he say something?”

“No. He won’t tell me anything. My question is, how long have you been interested in him?”

She thought back. “Okay, do you remember when his shoulders got all wide and his biceps got all round and bumpy?”

Sun giggled.

“It was somewhere around there.”

“So, a while ago.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, every other girl in Del Sol noticed his transformation, too.”

“I don’t think he’s interested in every other girl.”

She wiggled her shoulders in delight, then said, “The dark lord just got back,” referring to Levi. “He’s in his room.” She opened the door and gestured to the stairs behind her.

“And Clay?” Sun asked, worried about having to deal with their toxic uncle.

“He’s at the plant.”

“Good.”

Sun took the stairs as Hailey went in search of her son. Having been inside the veritable mansion once before, she knew which door to knock on, but that knowledge didn’t help her. No one answered. She tapped her knuckles on the thick wood again. Nothing. She just needed to give it a minute. Maybe he was on the phone or in the shower.

She looked around at the rich wood appointments, trying to decide what to do. Levi had amazing taste. Everything about him was lush and hard and masculine. His truck. His house. His furniture.

Giving it one last go, she knocked again. Softly, at first, then harder. She had a job to do, damn it. She and Levi may not be destined for the altar, but they could have fun.

When he still didn’t answer, she grew frustrated. She opened the door and stormed inside his massive bedroom, only to come face-to-face—well, twenty or so feet apart—with Levi Ravinder stepping out of the shower. He’d been in the middle of wrapping a towel around his waist. His dark, lean waist on which she could do her laundry if the zombie apocalypse ever happened and they lost power.

“Levi,” she said, stopping short.

He let his gaze travel the length of her and her very pink summer blouse, which was so unlike her. She was going to kill Auri.

“Vicram.” He finished securing the towel—damn it—and stepped into the bedroom.

“I didn’t realize you were …” Humiliation surged through her. What had she been thinking? “You know what? I’ll go. I just came by to—” She looked on a side table by the door where he’d clearly emptied his pockets as he came in. Keys, wallet, and a stack of hundreds any drug dealer would be proud of littered a decorative tray. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. It was the coin. The gold coin that matched the one Quincy just got.

“You’re Sinister.”

“I’ve been called worse,” he said from so close behind her she jumped. He reached past her and pushed the door closed.

She turned to see him towering over her. His skin still damp. His hair and lashes spiked with wetness. His full mouth framed by a day’s worth of stubble.

“For or against?” she asked, her voice less confident than she’d hoped. When he raised a brow, she explained. “They said Sinister had

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