“To get ice cream,” Annie said. “You should come. Daddy, the band can come, right?”
“If they want to,” Derek confirmed.
“I never say no to ice cream,” Logan said.
“And we’re going to find the ghost. You can’t forget the ghost hunting,” Annie said sternly. “That’s the most important part.”
Zach glanced at the rest of his band mates. “What do you say, boys? Ice cream and ghost hunting?”
Nico scooped Annie off her feet, swinging her onto his shoulders as she loosed a delighted shriek. “I’m in.”
Beckett grunted, a sound which his bandmates seemed to take as agreement.
“Is the bossman buying?” Jackson asked.
Derek frowned and shot Jackson a sharp glare, but before he could respond, Annie wiggled impatiently on Nico’s shoulders. “Let’s goooooo. Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream!”
Nico and Annie led the group as they made their way through the wings towards the hotel’s ice cream shop, Derek and Jo lagging behind. His hand still lingered on her lower back as they fell into step with their raucous group.
“What kind of ice cream does a ghost eat, do you think?” Derek asked.
Jo huffed a laugh. “How should I know?”
“You’re the one who let her think ghosts eat ice cream at all.”
“Once she’s got a hot fudge sundae as big as her head, she’ll forget all about the elusive ghost of the Hotel Bellwether,” Jo said. “It’s all about distraction.”
His hand curled around her hip, fingertips lightly scraping across her skin through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “You certainly are distracting.”
Her step faltered, her balance thrown by his quiet admission, and his hand fell away.
“Daddy!” Annie called from the front of their group. “What flavor are you going to get?”
“Oreo,” Kat, Logan, and Beckett chorused.
Annie giggled. “He always gets Oreo.”
A knowing gleam sparked in Kat’s eye. “Maybe tonight he’ll try something different.”
Chapter 10
Annie hadn’t forgotten about the ghost, but she’d been suitably mollified by her three-scoop caramel brownie sundae and let the matter drop. Unfortunately, Annie wasn’t the only one distracted by their little ice cream outing.
Watching Jo lick an ice cream cone had been a special kind of torture that Derek hadn’t anticipated.
After the third group of fans had cornered the members of Midnight Storm for photos and autographs, the guys had called it a night, leaving Derek, Jo, Annie, and Kat to meander through the poison gardens back to the cottages on their own. Annie excitedly pointed out each new variety of plant they passed and Jo made up names for each of them.
Annie pointed to a shrub with pink flowers Derek was pretty sure was an oleander. “What’s that one called?”
“Bubblegum Bane,” Jo said confidently.
Annie giggled. “And that one?” She pointed to a flutedwhite flower atop a stout green stem.
“That is the deadly Trumpeting Terror,” Jo said.
“You’re making these up!”
“Am I?”