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Chapter Two
Rafe Carpenter pulled into an open spot and cut the engine. The clock on the dash read eleven-forty-seven. He’d made it.
He looked around the familiar corner of his old Wicker Park neighborhood. A couple of bumblebees and a zombie were waiting at the bus stop on the corner, while a she-devil and a Dorthy in a short skirt and five inch red heels giggled as they brushed past him on the sidewalk. They were pretty, but the only woman he was interested in was the one whose soft hazel eyes and breathy laugh had been causing him to push the limit on every mile he’d covered over the last sixteen hours.
He peered down the street to the orange neon sign glowing bright against the midnight sky. The Black Cat Pub. He’d been in the bar before, but for whatever reason, never when Kayla was working.
Let her be there tonight.
The lights in the second floor apartment above the bar blinked on, and in the front corner window the silhouette of a man filled the frame. Rafe set his teeth, braced for the possibility that she’d found a boyfriend. Who was he kidding? After a year, she might be married by now.
The idea that she was unavailable cut through him like a blade, but there was only one way to find out.
The chilly night air urged him on, pressing and tugging against the backs of his legs with every step. Ahead, the front door of The Black Cat flew open, spilling music, laughter, and the beckoning glow of warm light into the night. And something else too.
His chest tightened. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his head, but the teasing scent of vanilla was in the air, taking him back to the smell of her skin, the fleeting taste of her mouth. Kayla. Soft and sweet, she was still on his tongue, still in his arms. He felt the curve of her hips, and the press of her breasts against his chest.
Blood thundered past his ears, throwing off his equilibrium. Jesus, he had to get inside.
* * * * *
Kayla pushed the pumpkin martini across the bar and turned away from the crowd. Facing the rows of liquor bottles, she wiped at her brow with the back of her hand, trying to slow the racing of her heart.
What the hell was wrong with her?
All night she’d had this growing sense of nervous anticipation, of something building, like a static charge in the air around her. She was jumpy, on edge, her skin prickling hot and cold.
Opal sidled up to the bar, her black hair pulled into a tight bun and her green and purple polka-dotted stockings slinking up her legs to the bottom of her short black shift. “Nice turnout tonight.”
“Sure is.” Kayla pressed her lips together, and the pressure made her think about being kissed. Hard.
Opal leaned over the bar with a solicitous look on her face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just hot.”—and bothered. “Distracted.” From sizing up every guy to walk through that door as a candidate for some feel-good groping…and finding them all lacking. But what had she really thought—that lightening would strike twice, and just because it was Halloween again, she’d meet another guy capable of getting her past her own head and hang-ups? Another guy she wouldn’t be able to forget even a year later?
“You should clock out.” Opal walked around to the business side of the bar and grabbed a towel. “The rush is over, and you deserve the break. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone worthy of a little kissy-kissy.”
“Cut the kissy-kissy talk before Aaron hears you, or half the clientele’s gonna leave with a rash and we’ll be out of business.”
“You’ve got to stop worrying about Aaron. He Ouijaed me that he was feeling kind of drained after earlier, and not to expect him until tomorrow. So maybe just…don’t worry about him tonight. Find someone hot.”
Kayla loved how simple everything sounded when Opal said it. ”Sure, I’ll just swing by the supermarket and pick up some Grade ‘A’ Hottie,” she laughed.
“That’s the spirit,” Opal grinned, either oblivious to her sarcastic tone, or more likely just ignoring it.
A couple regulars were leaving, and Kayla waved as they pushed the door open. Cool outside air swept through the bar in a rush. That glimpse of the night had her skin growing warm and her fingers tingling as a slow wave of yearning washed over her. As if pulled by some force outside her body, she started toward the door.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Kayla murmured absently. “Maybe I’ll go for a walk.”
A goofy sort of smile quirked Opal’s lips. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. You can thank me tomorrow.”
She was only a few feet from the door when it swung open again, and a six-foot-something man, dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, walked into the bar. The worn denim hung low on his trim hips, hugging in all the right places. The fit of his gray cotton shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and powerful arms. But it was the hard cut of his jaw, the crooked set of his nose, and cappuccino brown eyes colliding with hers that left her breathless, staring at the man she’d been waiting for this whole night. This whole year.
“You’re back?” she whispered, barely able to believe her eyes.
His face split into a grin and his brows lifted. “You remember me?”
A nervous laugh slipped past her lips. Better than she was willing to admit.
