Paolo snorted as Zane passed him, tapping the end of his cigarette to ash onto the asphalt. The guy kept his dishtowel slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, Cuddles,” he called over.
Zane withheld his smirk. Smartass. Instead he lifted his middle finger in response. “Both of you can shove it. I’m comfortable in my Fortress of Solitude.” What both of them didn’t know was that ship had sailed for good. Zane was closed for business in the relationship department, and he didn’t bother trying to re-open.
Before his co-workers could continue to comment, Zane cut down the brick-lined alley and headed in the direction of his apartment. His Zippo snapped with flame, and he lit his cigarette. Nicotine flooded his veins at the first, blissful drag, and the calm circulating through him became a drug all on its own. Folks avoided him on the sidewalk, even the bigger guys taking a step or two away and almost stumbling into the street. The six foot three shadow he cast might have a little to do with it, but the amount of time he spent at the gym didn’t hurt either. Yet another way to burn the cravings that rode him even on the good days.
As small as the blue chip in his pocket was, he could feel the weight slap against his thigh with every stride, the constant reminder of how far he’d come and the effort he exercised to get there.
He ran a hand through his tied-back hair, the sweaty strands gluing together as he heaved a sigh. On a different night, with a different girl, maybe they could’ve tangoed until they were sore, but not a coworker. He didn’t leave any chance for anything but no-strings-attached—not like they’d stay on their own accord after hearing the whole story. The ex-con label tended to scare them away first, and if that didn’t, the rest would for sure.
Ash tumbled from the end of his cigarette as he ripped through it faster and faster with each step closer to his place. Slice of Heaven had turned off their neons at this point, but he’d know the chintzy sign and the brick building with those extra-wide windows from anywhere on Bardstown. The fact that the couple who owned this pizza joint rented to him was a near miracle, but Mr. and Mrs. Papadopolis were some of the sweetest human beings on the planet, and happened to be friends with his sponsor.
Zane swung by the mail slot on the side of the building and flipped open the copper flap. Inside lay a couple old bills and a bright red envelope, the sort that puked Valentine’s Day all over the page. He ripped the letter open and scanned the contents, the dirt and grease on his fingertips marring the creamy invitation. This was the most roundabout proposition he’d gotten, but he had to admit, it piqued his curiosity. And he needed a distraction real bad as of late.
His heartbeat picked up a couple paces as he gripped the invitation tight in one hand, making his way up the creaky aluminum steps to his upstairs apartment.
Tomorrow promised to be interesting.
3
This was a terrible plan.
Liv applied cherry red lipstick in her rearview mirror with the precision of experience, her brand of war paint to give her confidence today. By some miracle, a hangover hadn’t chased her into Tuesday, after the amount of whisky they swilled last night. She had needed all the liquid courage possible following her miserable date with Kyle-the-douche and the way the thought of today sent her into freak-out mode.
Still, she smoothed the surface of her navy blue cigarette pants and took a deep inhale. Her Converse might not be as stylish as a pair of pumps, but if she needed to move fast, she’d be able to bolt at a moment’s notice. She might feel safe sitting behind the wheel of her Subaru, but the idea of walking down Bardstown towards this café made her heart step in double time.
She tugged her black leather jacket from the back seat, more a security blanket than any sort of needed warmth since the temperature would climb with the hours. Liv refused to go anywhere without it even though the jacket had accumulated more patches and holes than was worth keeping. Ten years later, and she had never been able to let him go—not completely. He and this jacket remained in her memories as a reminder of a better time, before college had happened and she turned into this jaded mess.
Liv got out of the car.
This time of day on a Saturday, Bardstown Street exploded into full swing with traffic flowing on both sides, engines revving and tires whirring. Crowds mobbed the sidewalks, mostly folks of the bespectacled hipster variety, with which she tended to blend in well. Even though the sun beat down on her with a fiery insistence, she slipped her leather jacket on and made her way towards Cupid’s Café.
Despite the heat, Liv’s insides plummeted to Arctic temperatures with each step she took. The Greek-style columns framing the entrance begged for attention, though she couldn’t help wondering why she’d never given this place much consideration in the past. She’d walked this street a thousand and one times, so unless this was a new place, she classified herself as super inattentive. When she stepped to the front door, the wide windows cast the interior in sunlight, illuminating the dozen or so couples who lounged inside.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Tessa.
Stationed inside and at the ready.
She’d earned herself a cappuccino and one of the tooth-numbingly sweet creations they displayed inside the case. Liv sucked in another shaky breath and opened the door.
The rich scents of cumin and nutmeg floated her way first, the tartness of lemon and the tang of olive, mingling with the rich, earthy tones of roasted coffee. The low chatter inside remained at a pleasant murmur, and despite the first cursory sweep through the place, apart from Tessa with her mug of tea in the corner, she didn’t spot any nightmares from her past. Her throat tightened. Not like that meant she could rest easy. He might not have arrived yet.
She scanned the small round tables for an empty one, though most had filled up at this point with couples or a single person waiting. Sunlight poured in through the huge windows framed by sheer drapes, the elegant, flimsy fabric a tasteful touch. Despite the way her skin prickled and paranoia charged faster than a horse at the races, calm emanated from the café. Hushed, easygoing conversations flowed through this place, the lush notes of amber and coral cast a warm glow, and the click of the overhead fans blowing gentle breezes created a peaceful ambiance.
Liv glanced to the back of the room where a tall guy nearly dwarfed the small round table, his tattooed and tan forearms a stark contrast to the light surface. His dark, tangled hair was pulled into a ponytail, his beard trimmed to precision, all of which accented a firm jaw and a sensuous mouth hinting a smile. It wasn’t until he lifted his head and looked at her straight on that the devastating force of those intense green eyes rammed into her.
She recognized those eyes—she’d remember them anywhere.
Liv’s throat dried, and her mind dizzied. Not with fear. An ache grew inside her, a yearning so strong she almost lost her balance, and she tugged the jacket tighter. She’d expected to come here and confront the monster who destroyed her life, not the man who’d disappeared so long ago, the one whose jacket and the memories that came with it had kept her strong on some of the worst nights.
Based on the way his eyes widened as he met her gaze, he recognized her too.
Her feet carried her towards him before she even realized she moved, until she stood in front of his table. Never in a thousand years did she think he could have been the one who sent the invitation. She had never believed she’d see him again.
“Livs?” his voice came out hoarse, a delicious rough scrape that made her feel like she was sixteen again. She hadn’t been called the nickname in some time, but it snapped her to the present. Liv put her game face on, even though inside she stormed.
“Zane Parata,” she said, settling into the seat opposite him. “I thought you’d gotten swallowed up in a twister and settled among the indigenous people of Oz.” Her voice came out the practiced calm she perfected despite the way her heart sped, galloping away in her chest.
Those wicked brows of his rose, and a smile stole his face. Holy damn, he was still the same sort of gorgeous tha
t turned heads with that Polynesian glow. Liv tried to ignore the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks—with her traitorously pale skin, she couldn’t hide any flush worth a damn.
“Looks like you never lost your sharp tongue either,” he grinned. His eyes traveled over her body with a hungry roam that surprised her. Zane had been her brother’s best friend, and even though they’d shared too many stolen glances to count, she’d been a hell of a lot more innocent then. The one kiss between them had promised to turn into an inferno, but before their fire had a chance to burn, Zane disappeared. To this day, her brother Lex refused to talk about him. Whatever happened back then damaged the friendship for good.
“What brings you around here?” Liv asked, curiosity burning through her.
Zane ran a hand through his tousled hair, giving her an ample glimpse of his biceps and those taut forearms in motion. “Never left,” he admitted, his gaze skating the tabletop, the shadows lingering there giving her hint enough not to push. “Spent some time in a stylish orange jumpsuit on the flip side of town, and I’ve been working in the kitchen at La Rouge ever since.”
Liv tried to keep her jaw from dropping as explanation of his disappearance added up real fast. She hadn’t the slightest idea what trouble Zane got into back in the day, but based on the way her brother zippered tight on the subject, she could assume the story was a whole lot of bad news bears.
“Even still, I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another in town,” she murmured, her voice lowering. “Does Lex know you’re around?”
Zane clenched his jaw and pressed his palms down on the table like he prepped to jet. Liv opened her mouth before she could help herself, some excuse leaping to the forefront, some reason to get him to stay. It had been so long. Too long. And she couldn’t stand the idea of him vanishing again, even if he’d been here under her nose the entire time.
Tessa’s shadow fell across the table as she stepped in front of them. “Is this man harassing you?” she asked in her firm cop tone. She slipped her badge onto the table, and Zane stiffened, his arms tensing and his eyes flashing.
Fuck. No, that’s the last thing she needed, to bring her cop friend around an ex-con. If he didn’t bolt before, he’d be flying like the breeze now.
“Tessa, it’s okay. It’s not him,” Liv lowered her voice and placed a hand over her friend’s. “Different person from a more distant past.”
“Oh.” She snatched her badge off the table and made an apologetic grimace. “My bad, guys. Have a nice date.” Tessa patted Liv on the shoulder as she high-stepped over to her table with the lone cup of tea.
When Liv glanced across the table, Zane eyed her, curiosity gleaming in those cut-emerald eyes as he settled back into his seat. “So this is a date?” his voice curled around her, stirring a warmth she’d lacked for quite some time.
She flashed a grin. “Guess so. Why don’t we grab some coffee?”
He towered over her at full height when he stood from his seat, the sort of tall to spook most folks. Not her. She knew the heart beating inside the forbidding figure—at least she used to. Together they walked over to the coffee bar, a polished hardwood with mermaids carved into either end. A barista bustled around behind it, tamping grounds, steaming froth, and pouring mugs of piping hot drip coffee for the waiting customers.
“Cappuccino for me and whatever the chocolate contraption in the back is,” Liv said, peering over the display case at what appeared to be a double chocolate cupcake with piped frosting and chocolate chips on top. Right up her alley.
“Americano for me,” Zane said, settling beside her. He slipped a bill on the table, more than enough to cover the both of them. “I’ve got this.”
Liv raised her brow. “Sweet of you, buddy, but I don’t need you to pay for my sugar addiction.” She nudged his cash out of the way, pushing to the forefront as the barista tried to hide her smile. The woman rang them each up quickly, and Zane shook his head, a grin on his face.
“Forgot how stubborn you were,” he murmured while they waited at the polished counter for their coffees. Liv glanced to Tessa’s seat, which now lay empty. Her friend had vacated the premises with utmost haste after the awkward drop-down. Liv’s heart squeezed with warmth that Tessa had taken the time to tag along, that she cared enough to have Liv’s back. “Want to explain the whole scuffle back there? What are you now, witness protection?”
Her forced smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s say the last couple years haven’t been butterflies and sunshine.” His brows furrowed, but before he could continue his line of questioning, the barista slipped her cappuccino onto the counter followed by his coffee. Once the cupcake made an appearance, Liv’s mouth watered on sight. She snagged her essentials, sugar and caffeine, before making her way to the table.
Zane’s gaze heated her—she didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her curves and kept zeroing in on her lips. When they’d last seen one another, she’d been a stick and hadn’t grown hips and an ass until she’d left for college, even though her B-cup never caught the memo. Hell, where he’d been leaner, now his motions were coiled and powerful with the hard muscle he built over the years. The second Liv sat, she dunked her face into the mug, the piping hot cappuccino bursting with flavor and scorching her mouth.
“What are you doing with yourself nowadays?” Zane asked, settling back in his seat. That big body of his dominated the chair, his legs sprawled out as one brushed by her. With any other guy, she might be edging away to reclaim her space, but the comfort she felt around him even now warmed her the same as it had ten years ago, like no time had passed. As if they both hadn’t grown up and earned their scars along the way. She didn’t miss the way he played light conversation and how he didn’t offer explanations of why he’d been jailed or why her brother refused to bring up his name.
She lifted her fingers and mimicked snapping a camera. “Managed to get work doing what I love. I’m booked with weddings and the sort, but a lot of unique gigs have been rolling my way.”
His eyes widened, those defined brows animating his face. “No shit, really? You were damn good back in the day, Liv. Can’t imagine what your work is like now.” His gaze paused on her a tad longer, as if he was trapped in the same memory spin cycle she was. He’d been one of her first models back then, a teenage girl’s excuse at getting closer to the guy she was smitten with while avoiding the ire of her big bro. His praise and honest interest got her blood pumping, even more than the mere sight of him did.
Liv distracted herself with the cupcake in front of her before she made an ass out of herself by mooning over the guy who’d captured her heart all those years ago. That summer had forever imprinted on her. From the stolen bottle of Jack Daniels they’d swapped as they stared up at the stars, watching the tremulous glow of fireflies float through the air, to the way he’d listened and offered a shoulder to cry on when her first boyfriend dumped her. Even the weight of his jacket settled over her, the one he’d left in her car after the one kiss she’d never forget. A mere day later, he’d vanished out of her life for good.
Chances were, she’d built him into a fantasy, nothing close to the reality of the guy who sat before her. And besides, ex-con or no, she didn’t think any guy could handle the bundle of problems she carried with her. Hell, she could barely tolerate herself on a good day.
She sank her teeth into the rich, gooey chocolate, savoring the sweetness as she demolished the baked good with the finesse of a wolf. Crumbs littered the table in front of her, and she licked her lips for the remnants of the frosting. Zane lifted his cup of coffee to his mouth in a pitiful attempt to hide his smile.
“I think you missed some,” he said with a wink, pointing at the mound of crumbs sprinkled across the plate.
Liv gave him the middle finger. “Thanks, asshole. I couldn’t tell.” She wiped her forearm over her mouth to make sure she’d gotten the remnants, the epitome of ladylike grace.
“Still missed some.” He leaned forward and swiped h
er cheek with his thumb, bringing it up to those lips and sucking. Between the electricity of his touch and the sensual gleam in his eyes, she clenched her thighs together as a heady dose of desire made an appearance.
Even though he leaned back in his seat as relaxed as could be, she didn’t miss the way he started tapping his fingers against the table or how the jitters alternated to his boot tapping the ground.
“You can chill,” she said, tilting her head towards his tap-dancing fingers. “Tessa’s not going to pop in and haul you away.”
He snatched his hand off the table, his green eyes darkening for a moment. “Not worried about your cop friend, Livs. My nerves are just shit, that’s all.” His hand slipped to his pocket, but he wasn’t forthcoming on any further story. Fantastic pair they made, dodging around anything substantial—both of them had managed to skate around details on the decade missing from each other’s lives with razor blade precision.
“So now that I know you’re in the area, are you going to stick around? Or is this a one-sight deal with a disappearing act to follow?” she asked, going straight for the hardball. She wouldn’t push on the past, but the part of her yearning for the connection they shared couldn’t let this go.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re persistent?” he asked, a half-smile stealing his lips. Those forest eyes hadn’t left her once, the heat emanating from them sparking her body to life in a way she believed had died for good.
She pursed her lips and lifted a brow. “Yeah, you. Like a thousand and one times.” He let loose a laugh, a rich sound she had missed a great deal. Despite the years between them and all the secrets they kept, their easy communication hadn’t vanished. He swigged down more of his coffee, the porcelain clinking as he set it on the table. “Still didn’t answer my question—do I get a follow-up date?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could help herself, needing to know if the powerful emotions brewing in the air were hers alone or if he still gave a damn.
Captured Memories: Cupid’s Cafe, Book Three Page 2