Kiss of Awakening

by Jennifer Snyder

CHAPTER FIVE

  Once Bree and I had finished primping, we headed downstairs to check out the bar I’d seen on our way up. Before we even made it to the door, Bree snubbed her nose at it.

  “We need to find something a little less cigar-smoking old men like,” she insisted.

  Peeking in through the dim windows that separated the bar from the main hotel lobby, I realized she was right. The place was practically empty, with the exception of four or five bald old guys who I was sure smelled like cigar smoke, sipping on scotch.

  As we exited the hotel, the sounds of the New Orleans nightlife met my ears once more as the bright, colorful glow from the lights blinded me for a moment. Following along the sidewalk, we took in the various restaurants and little shops—trying to decide which ones we should visit tomorrow when we ventured out to find that crazy cauldron place—as we continued in our pursuit of a hip bar. Even though we had yet to find a place, the night air was still electric with liveliness. I could feel the energy of the city brushing against my skin as though it were lulling me in further.

  “Oh! This place sounds interesting.” Bree tugged on my arm in an effort to get to wherever she had spotted faster. “I like the name.”

  I zeroed in on the area down the street she was pulling me toward, trying to see what she saw. A gray building with turquoise shutters attached to each window caught my eye, mainly because of the sign that said Cats Meow in neon letters. It was such a strange name.

  Pushing on the door, we stepped inside. Music floated to my ears as the door closed behind us, sealing us off from the chaotic sounds of Bourbon Street. While I recognized the lyrics to the song playing throughout the place, I wasn’t familiar with the voice singing them. Glancing around at the lively décor and the nearly plastered people crowding around, one thing became quite clear—this was a karaoke bar.

  “Ah, look at this place!” Bree gripped my arm. Excitement oozed from her like never before. “How genius is this place? It doesn’t get any better than this!”

  I pursed my lips together. “There’s not a chance in hell you’re getting me on that stage. No matter how many drinks you send my way.”

  “It would be fun though.” She tilted her head to the side, and flashed me a pouty face.

  “No.”

  “Fine.” Bree dropped her pleading stare. “First let’s order a drink, and then we can revisit this conversation after we’ve downed it.”

  I laughed. “Whatever, I’m not budging on this one. Karaoke is not my thing. Period.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved my words away as we walked toward the bar.

  The amount of people standing around the dark wood of the bar made me instantly smirk at the thought of how much these bartenders must make a night in tips. What I walked away with in my pocket on a peek night was surely chump change compared to what these people cleared on a slow night.

  When we finally made our way through the thicket of people and claimed a small section of the mahogany bar top for our own, I leaned closer to Bree. “What are you ordering?”

  She shrugged and eyed the wall of liquors. “I don’t know. What about you?”

  My eyes scanned the shelves behind the bar, taking in the variety. “Hmm, I think I might have a whiskey sour.”

  “Yuck, those things make my mouth pucker, they’re so sour.”

  “Hence the name.” I grinned.

  My eyes traveled down the length of the bar, searching for the bartender. The second I spotted him, a slight shiver slid through me. Not only was the guy easy on the eyes, but he was already looking my way. I knew the trick he was using—the old wait until one of them glances around to seek you out so you don’t seem as though you’re rushing them to place an order. I used the trick myself many times, but in the moment, I felt like a regular girl who’d just spotted the hot bartender checking her out. It was a nice feeling.

  “There was something you made for me once that was great, but I can’t remember what it was now.” Bree tilted her head to the side. I could feel her glare boring into me as though the drink in question was written on me somewhere.

  Holding the bartender’s eye, I thought back through all the drinks I’d made for Bree. The list was long. She had been my guinea pig numerous times while I attempted to figure out the right strengths of popular drinks. “Which one? I don’t know which time you’re talking about. What color was it?”

  The sexy bartender pulled himself from against the counter where he’d been leaning, and walked our way. I watched him intently, his movements smooth and effortless. Either I was suffering from a severe case of wishful thinking, or this guy was seriously interested in me. Licking my lips, I flashed him a small smile in case it was the latter of the two. Normally, I wasn’t one to blatantly flirt—not unless I was behind the bar at Spark, attempting to earn some killer tips for whatever reason—but this guy was incredibly good-looking. Not flirting with him while his attention was fixated on me would be like trying not to breathe.

  “The one that was pink…or maybe it was red…” Bree trailed off.

  “A cosmo.” I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that was the one, but it was the first reddish drink that popped in my head, so I went with it.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was it.” Bree nodded. “I think I’ll have one of those.”

  “Hello, ladies,” the bartender said, his voice deep and silky smooth all at the same time. “What can I get you tonight?”

  I arched a brow at his tone as mild surprise from the sexiness of it slipped through me. He leaned against the counter in front of me, and stared at me. My brow arched a little higher from his gesture. Maybe I had been right about him—he was into me. Holding his stare, I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I took a moment to assess the colors of his eyes. They were a steely gray I’d seen on few and far between. It was different and I liked it. It made him that much more alluring.

  I leaned toward him so he could hear my order over the song currently being butchered by a chick who had obviously had too much to drink. “I’ll take a whiskey sour.”

  The ghost of a smile twisted at the corners of his lips. “Not the type of drink I would have pegged you for.”

  “What did you think I would order?” Curiosity sprang to life inside of me. This was a game I had just recently started to play during my shifts at Spark, now that I was a little more familiar with how to make things.

  “Something fruity,” he admitted, that hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. Shifting his gaze from me, he glanced at Bree. “What about you? What would you like?”

  She had leaned to the side so that she could take in the scene unfolding between the bartender and me. I could see the twist of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “A cosmo, please.”

  Gripping the edges of the bar, he pushed himself away. “Coming right up.” His grayish eyes shifted to mine again, and he winked.

  When he turned away, I watched him as he created our drinks with ease.

  Bree nudged my arm. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “You were flirting with him.” There was a dumbfounded tone etched into her words.

  An impish grin sprang onto my face. “And?”

  Bree shook her head and smiled. “And nothing, I just haven’t seen Kenna Blake flirt like that in a while, that’s all.”

  Skimming my eyes over the bartender’s face, I took in the slight amount of stubble along his chin and cheeks. Some guys looked homeless when they didn’t shave every day, but not him. He pulled it off in a crazy good way.

  “Well I haven’t seen someone look that good in a while either,” I muttered.

  Bree laughed and the bartender lifted his stare my way, catching me watching him. A wolfish smile formed on his face that did things to me I hadn’t felt in forever.

  Seconds later, he was setting our drinks in front of us. “Here you go, ladies. Enjoy.”

  Someone at the other end of the bar vied for his attention. He nodded in his direction, le
tting him know he’d seen he was ready to place an order, and then shifted his gaze back to me.

  “How much?” I asked, fishing my wallet out of my purse.

  “Your number.”

  There was so much confidence woven into his words that I almost blushed. “My number? Well, what if I said I’m not comfortable with that?”

  “Then I’d say I have my work cut out for me.” His wolfish grin grew to a whole new level.

  Bree kicked me with her foot, and cleared her throat before taking a sip of her drink. I knew what she was telling me—to give him my damn number—but I was having fun letting my flirty side free, and I intended to keep that fun flowing through the night, even if that meant being a bit of a tease.

  “I’d say you do.” I picked up my whiskey sour, and took a small sip of the tangy goodness.

  “Challenge accepted, then,” he whispered before sauntering toward the other end of the bar.

  I watched him as he pressed his palms against the counter while he listened to the order being placed. His eyes shifted my way, and he flashed me another knee-weakening smile.

  “He’s hot,” Bree said. “Give him your number.”

  I shook my head. “No way. I’m only here for one solid day. I’m not giving some random guy my number, especially not one I’ll never see again.”

  “Okay, then don’t, but ask him what time he gets off.”

  My eyebrows drew together. “Why?”

  “So we can have a hot tour guide to show us where all the cool clubs and stuff are while we’re here. He can even tell us where to get a costume, or where all the best parties are on Halloween.”

  Gripping the little stir straw, I swirled it around in my cup. “I don’t know. I figured I’d just flirt a little with him and leave it at that. He is cute, but I don’t know if I want to hang out with him.”

  “Oh, come on. I have a boyfriend—hell, compared to you I’m practically married—and I wanna hang out with him. He’s sexy as sin, Kenna. I mean look at the guy.”

  My eyes drifted toward him. He was talking with some woman old enough to be his mother who was dressed in the worst leopard print top I’d ever seen. She was definitely a cougar on the prowl, but he didn’t look to be lying down for her anytime soon.

  As though he felt my stare on him, he glanced my way. His tongue darted out and licked along his bottom lip before he dropped his stare back to the woman trailing her fingertips along his forearm.

  He was hot. Hotter than hot. And I wanted him.

  “We’re in New Orleans. Let’s get us a hot tour guide for the weekend,” Bree insisted as she continued to persuade me to go for him.

  “God, I feel like you’re my pimp trying to coax me into my first time.” I laughed. “Kellen would shit a brick if he heard you talking right now. You know that, right?”

  “I know. But Kellen isn’t here, is he?” She arched one of her perfectly plucked brows, and eyed me. “Besides, the guy isn’t for me, he’s for you.” A shit-eating grin formed on her face as she nudged me with her elbow and brought her straw to her lips.

  Before I could respond, the sexy bartender was back in front of me. His stare even more intense than before.

  “So, what’s your name?” he asked.

  The corner of my lips twisted into a smile as I locked eyes with him. “Kenna.”

  “Kenna…” He rolled each letter off his tongue in a way that made me quiver. “I like it. It’s unique.”

  “Thanks.” I took another sip of my drink, knowing his eyes would fall to my lips as I did so. “What’s yours?”

  “Delvin,” he said.

  “Well, look at the two of you,” Bree chimed in. “Both of you have equally unique names.”

  “And what’s yours?” Delvin asked her.

  “Bree.” She flashed him a small smile. Her drink was nearly finished, and I could tell she was already feeling some of the effects from it.

  Lightweight.

  “Nice name. Guess you’re in the unique name club as well.” His index finger glided in slow circles across the bar top as he brought his gaze back to me. “So, what are you lovely ladies doing after you leave here tonight?”

  “I’m not sure,” Bree answered before I could. “Know of any place cool to dance at?”

  “You mean cooler than this?” He motioned toward the stage where someone was doing an awesome job of singing Genie in a Bottle by Christina Aguilera.

  “Yeah, I don’t want to listen to people sing all night. I want to dance,” Bree muttered.

  “Got ya. Well, it just so happens that I do know of someplace.” Delvin leaned in a little farther as the chick singing hit all the high notes near the end of the song. “I could take you to the hottest dance place in New Orleans, if you feel up to waiting until I get off.”

  I took another sip of my drink, and then licked the sweetness from my lips. “And when is that?”

  Delvin’s eyes darkened, my gesture drawing his stare right where I wanted it. “My replacement should have been here an hour ago, but she’s generally late.” He lifted his gaze as someone called his name down the bar. “So, give me another few minutes for her to get here, and then we can go. Is that all right with you?” His eyes came back to mine. There was a slight challenge swirling within their color. It was almost as though he expected me to decline, and then talk some sense into my friend for even asking.

  Again, he had me pegged wrong.

  Nodding in agreement, I flashed him a small smile. “Sounds good.”