Samhain Publishing Ltd, Ebooks and Books in Print

Chapter One

“Show your tits! Show your tits!” The chant rattled Faith’s head and she looked down at her camisole to make sure everything was covered. The shout got louder, threatening to smash her two-rum-and-coke buzz and making her wonder, again, what the hell she was doing here.

Here was Mardi Gras. No, not the hedonistic New Orleans blowout that preceded Lent, but a small-town New England bar packed with frat boys and locals alike. Posters of New Orleans, neon signs of local brews and gator heads hung on the wall, and the bar’s only virtue was how close it was to Faith’s condo. Where she could be now, enjoying microwaved s’mores and the newest Entertainment Weekly, a much better end to the week.

The chant turned into a roar of appreciation when a woman ripped off her shirt and the crowd showered her with strings of plastic beads. Faith glimpsed young, perky breasts before the woman was surrounded by the rowdies taking a closer look.

All a little too Lord of the Flies for her and she turned to voice this observation to the person responsible for getting her out of the condo and her jammies. Sadie didn’t look like she wanted conversation enthralled as she was by the ruckus. Her upper lip curled and showed a glint of teeth. Anyone who didn’t know her would think she was sneering.

Faith recognized her best friend’s smile. “I’ll flash if you flash, but you go first.”

Sadie grinned for real. “I think this crowd’s looking for more than what I got.” While her hair—short and stylish and expensive—and her body—long and lean in marathon form—might make women want to bite their toes, her cups didn’t threaten to spill over. In fact, her tank top was her only support and her breasts were still at attention. Despite the lack, and really it wasn’t a lack, Sadie oozed sexiness. Her brown eyes smoldered when she was pissed and her dark hair begged to be mussed or grabbed.

Faith couldn’t decide if she minded the study in contrast. Her five-six didn’t compare to Sadie’s height. Where her friend was lean and put together, Faith was curvy with hair that begged to be tidied. On bad days, it was a curly mop of everyday brown. On good nights, it obeyed in reluctant waves with a thorough coaxing of product. She adjusted her camisole.

“Those puppies are going to end up at your chin if you don’t stop it.” Sadie took a sip of her dirty martini. “Let them play.” Another roar from the crowd rose up as another woman lifted her shirt. Their table was far enough from the dance floor to avoid the crush of people and close enough to the bar to get service. Faith’s heels scraped the rung of the tall chair and she tried not to feel short.

Her friend pushed Faith’s drink into her hand. “Too bad Bradley went home so early.”

Bradley was a fellow teacher whose smug self-confidence made his company tolerable in small doses. Earlier in the evening, he regaled them with stories about his days as a re-enactor at the Lethe Maritime Museum before succumbing to the sway of two lite beers. The alcohol compelled him to get a little too interested in Faith’s cleavage. Sadie’s don’t-mess-with-me attitude held him at a distance no amount of alcohol could overcome. When he’d left, Faith had felt relieved. Better it was the two of them. She immediately felt guilty for the thought.

Sadie raised her glass. “Let’s toast to another banner school year.”

The first drink of the evening had toasted Faith’s divorce, finalized over the past summer. The second had celebrated Faith’s ex-husband’s transfer from the high school to the middle school at the beginning of the school year. Getting him fired was out of the question and Faith had detected a certain amount of disbelief from the principal when she’d recounted her ex’s stalking. He’d looked at her as if she was somehow to blame because in his acorn-sized brain guidance counselors didn’t stalk and harass their ex-wives. His reaction produced the reason and shame that kept her from going to the police, but now there was nothing to worry about. A few hang-up calls were easy to deal with when compared to the burden of him in the school building.

At the bottom of the principal’s largesse Faith was sure Sadie’s handiwork could be seen. She had no idea how her friend pulled it off, but since August, running into Craig on a daily basis was no longer a problem. Faith caught herself pushing nonexistent glasses up her nose in a nervous gesture. The night out called for contacts and dress-up, yet Faith couldn’t shake the feeling that someone watched her. Thinking about Craig brought the simmering anxiety to a boil. The packed crowd could hide anyone. Faith crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re starting to make me nervous. I thought you went to the range after school. Isn’t target practice supposed to get rid of stress?”

Usually Faith’s gun, a bright idea of Craig’s, stayed in her underwear drawer, but some days called for a couple rounds of relief. The release worked for a little while until the residuals of her married life built up and she found herself jumping at shadows again. Anxiety was a hard habit to break.

“Put him out of your mind.” One of the many benefits to Sadie as best friend was her ESP.

“He knows we come here.”

“He won’t show if he wants to live another day to screw up some poor kid’s life. Besides, this isn’t his style.” Sadie peered through the crowd despite her words. The spied-on sensation expanded between them. “You’re out of practice in public places. We need to go out every weekend.”

“Can’t next week. The protest’s supposed to last all day.” A group of students planned to demonstrate against the development of a parcel of woodland. A local real estate hotshot, Bernard Francisco, had decided to build another strip mall.

“I don’t see why you want to spend a precious weekend marching and waving signs.”

“You should join us.”

Sadie drained the last of her drink and didn’t reply. Faith didn’t blame her. The only reason she had cleared her weekend for it was on direct invitation from two of her students. She couldn’t refuse them.

Her stomach growled and she chewed on an ice cube to get something solid inside her. Faith started to ask Sadie if she wanted to order food when a server plopped down two loaded plates on their table. Faith gaped at her friend. “You know they hanged people who read minds as well as you. I’ve visited the museum in Salem and taught The Crucible.”

“Wasn’t me.” Sadie reached across and snagged a fried shrimp, dragging it through the sauce before popping it in her mouth. Her eyes rolled back at the taste. “They’re doing something different with the batter. Taste this.”

A fissure of fear opened in Faith’s stomach, overriding hunger. She stopped the server as he whipped by. “We didn’t order these.”

Smiling, he said, “No mistake. They’re yours.” He darted off before Faith could respond.

“Shrimp?”

“Not until I know where they came from.” Faith’s fingers fumbled at the buttons on her sweater.

“He’s not here, Faith.”

An ugly voice drowned out the rest of Sadie’s words. His voice. Nobody wanted to see twenty-eight-year-old tits on display. She shouldn’t believe her legs looked better in a short skirt. She was a pathetic whore who didn’t know better than to stay home. She rose from her seat.

Sadie shook her shoulder. “You’re as white as Caspar. I didn’t waste a good bottle of instant tan on you for one of your panic attacks to ruin my efforts. You are going to keep your healthy glow and not turn green again, because that bottle cost me seventy bucks. Eat one of these spicy crabby things.”

She took the proffered bite and sat down. The spicy crabby thing was delicious and fried, and her stomach’s friendly purr drowned out the inner monologue. She dug into the plate before her. They were down to the last shrimp, getting ready to flip for it when a voice at her shoulder startled Faith out of her sated reverie. “Glad you liked the food.”

The deep voice soothed her startled nerves, pouring over her like caramel spiked with bourbon. Looking down at her were the deepest blue eyes. Clichéd as it might be, the clamor of the bar faded away, and although violins did not start twanging or whatever they did, the sped-up drum of her heart filled her ears. Stunned by her response, Faith absorbed his appearance. A wink of a blue eye and a smile. “I’m Dean.”

Good God, he speaks. He has a name.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you. But you looked hungry. And I wanted to talk to you.”

Sadie shoved the last shrimp into her mouth. “I forgot you worked here. My compliments. You’ve made the food nearly edible.” An empty plate showed that she was teasing.

Faith wondered how Sadie knew him, but figured her best friend was bound to know people outside of school. It always came as a surprise when Faith didn’t know them as well. The two looked at her expectantly. She blurted, “I liked the crab thingies.”

“Good to hear.”

“This is my friend, Faith.” Sadie nudged her arm. When Faith didn’t take the hint, Sadie said, “Forgive her. She’s been living on frozen dinners and cold cereal. Real food put her in shock.”

Not in shock. In lust. Very deep, penetrating, sweaty lust. Faith shook her head to clear it and offered her hand. His grasp was firm and rough, and his smile was sweet. Not that he was perfect. Only one dimple dented his cheek. Her pinky twitched, but she didn’t place it in the crevice.

“I’ve seen you here before, but couldn’t get free of the kitchen before you left. Tonight I was lucky.”

Speech came back. “You’re a chef?”

He must be here for Sadie. No way some chef with a cowboy smile was here for her. Why did he keep looking at her?

“A cook. Head cook.” Dean straightened his shoulders when he said that. A small orange spot stained his white chef’s jacket and his pinstriped pants hid his build. He took the chair next to Faith and sighed when he sat.

She had to say something. “Tough night?”

Another grin and another urge to give his dimple a pinky kiss. Where was this feeling coming from? She sat on her hand. He piled their empty plates and handed them to a passing server. “Busy night.”

As they indulged in this stunning repartee, a man approached Sadie to dance. With a smile, she got up and shimmied across the floor, man in tow. A surprising quirk of her personality was Sadie’s willingness to dance with anyone who got up the nerve to ask her. Also one of the many reasons Faith considered her a best friend.

“I hope she doesn’t take off her shirt.” Faith took a quick gulp of her drink. Tell me I didn’t say that.

“No one would mind.”

“She’s a teacher. We both are. Teachers don’t do that.”

Dean leaned in, his hand close to hers on the table. “I bet teachers do a lot of those sorts of things.” He unbuttoned his chef’s coat and raked a hand through his short black hair. His worn T-shirt hugged his chest and ribs. A thin line of dark hair peeked over the neck of the shirt. His chest and stomach muscles weren’t enough to make a girl think he was juiced, but they were a nice strong foundation for many before-bed fantasies. He rolled up his sleeves as he drank his beer. Even in swallowing, he managed to give off a masculine vibe. His forearms were marred with burns and scars and on the underside, a Celtic cross in black stretched across his skin.

The ink seemed familiar.

“Nice tattoo.” Running her forefinger over the cross, Faith tried to recall where she’d seen it before. His skin was soft beneath the touch and she followed the whirls of the ink until her brain told her to stop touching him.

“Got it for my mom.” At the bottom of the cross, a year could be seen. Five years ago. A brief look of sadness as he contemplated his tattoo, then he raised his eyes to her. “I was seventeen.”

“I’m sorry.” Blundering into awkwardness remained her special talent even with Craig gone. She covered the tattoo with her hand. The jolt of the connection didn’t diminish the comfort she wanted to give.

“It was a long time ago. Want dessert?” He didn’t wait for her reply. She enjoyed the view as he walked the short distance from the table to the computer monitor at the end of the bar. While he typed in a command and Faith sent a silent wish for something to do with chocolate, the bartender passing by swatted his ass with her bar towel. He pointed to the screen and said something to make her laugh before she went to fill some drafts. A slight breeze of jealousy wafted over Faith at the sight of their play, but she made sure all signs were wiped from her face before he sat down.

“Tonya will bring dessert out.”

“Everyone who works here seems to get along well.”

“You should hear us in the kitchen when we’re slammed. There’s no friendship when you’re in the weeds.”

She didn’t understand. “When you’re stoned?” Not that she minded, but she really did. She didn’t have the patience to deal with potheads at her age. Bad enough Craig had tried to coax her into joining him in a bowl throughout their marriage, ridiculing her when she refused. She used to do it in high school, but she also used to smoke cloves. Growing up sometimes meant no longer inhaling what she didn’t want to inhale.

Dean’s laughter brought her to the present. “‘In the weeds’ means you’re behind, can’t catch up. I don’t smoke.” At the sight of Faith’s blush, he grasped her hand. “Wouldn’t expect you to know that. I’m sure teachers use words I wouldn’t understand.”

“Only the obnoxious ones.” Bradley and Craig flitted to the surface of her thoughts.

Tonya plunked a plate between them. Two pieces of thick chocolate cake smothered in fudge and whip cream sang a siren’s song. In a loud whisper, Tonya said, “Be sure to eat the piece on the right. The one on the left is for Dean.” Was the woman marking her territory or joking?

Dean asked the question before Faith could decide. “What’s special about that one?”

“I hawked a loogie in it.” The bartender’s sweet smile held no sensual overtones, only mischief.

“I’d call you a bitch, but you’d take it as a compliment.” He forked a chunk of the cake in his mouth.

“Since he’s too rude and immature, I’m Tonya.” The woman extended her hand.

Faith, wondering if the relationship was sibling or romantic, shook hands. “Faith. Nice to meet you.”

Brushing her blond bangs out of her eyes, Tonya gave her a warm smile and leaned on the table between them, her thin compact body filling the space. “I’m glad he finally got you. Months of him complaining that he wanted to meet you and bitching about me not telling him you came in before you left.”

“Tonya, don’t you have some glasses to wash or drinks to pour?” Dean warned.

She acted oblivious to his blatant hint. “I was the one who tipped him off tonight.”

“Gonna be sad when I start telling your secrets.” Glaring at her, Dean jerked his head toward the bar.

This time, she took the hint. “Enjoy your dessert, Faith.” Swatting Dean on the shoulder, she went back to the bar.

Faith’s head spun from the words. Her alarm system assessed the information, but instead of feeling stalked, she felt excited at the idea that someone wanted to see her. Ex-husband Craig might have stalked her to make sure she was miserable, but he didn’t want her.

“She makes it sound bad. It’s not like I’m following you. I’ve seen you in here a couple times and you’re always with Sadie and you look nice. If you want me to go, I will.” He shrugged.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Uncertainty tarnished his handsome face.

“Eat your cake.” He needed a stroke and his attention flattered her, not to mention that watching him eat the dessert was like foreplay. To redirect her attention, she concentrated on the cake. The dense chocolate made the pleasure of the mouthful almost painful. She swallowed. “My weakness. If I get mad, all a person needs to do is give me chocolate. Then it’s nothing but forgiveness.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Smiling, she cut the rest of her cake in half and pushed it to the side of the plate.

“Don’t tell me you’re on a diet. It’s a shame when women have the need to starve their curves away.” His arm brushed hers as he gestured to the half. “I’ll eat it if you’re not going to.”

“Don’t touch. It’s for Sadie if she gets off the dance floor.”

He nodded and his gaze deepened as she licked her fork. His stare gave her a thrill. “What?”

He didn’t take his eyes from hers. “Wonder what you’d taste like with chocolate.”

Swallowing more than the dessert, she asked, “Do you want to find out?” The question sounded alien. She never said anything like that, but right now she was a puppet and her hormones were the ventriloquist. This immediate attraction was like being on the edge of a cliff without seeing the bottom, but knowing the fall would be worth it. Closing the space between them, she put her shaky hand on his shoulder and brought her face to his.

He hesitated before saying, “Not here. I’m not into making out in crowds.” The hunger in his eyes looked like he considered changing his mind. He placed his hand on her thigh and stroked her leg, his touch burning through the layer of skirt and nylons. She licked her lips and the movement attracted his stare, the focus bringing a heat between them. The decision was hers. All she needed to do was make up her mind about what would happen next.