Hot Honey Kisses: 3:AM Kisses 17 Read online

  “Lex!” I spring up and offer my sister a hearty embrace.

  Harper springs up herself and shouts something about a book fair while giggling off with a wave.

  I pull back to get a better look at my sister and her handsome hubby. “What’s going on? Let me guess. Checking out the competition?”

  Lex’s dark brows narrow in on me. “More like checking on you.” Lex has a cutthroat beauty about her, sharp as a razor’s edge, and don’t think she won’t cut you with it. Lex is notorious for not sugarcoating so much as a smile.

  “Ah, yes.” I can’t help but roll my eyes like a thirteen-year-old whenever I’m around my sister. “I told you over the phone. I’m fine, I promise.”

  The three of us fall into the booth, with me sitting across from the two of them.

  Axel nods to me. “You look well-rested.” He looks to Lex. “That means she’s sleeping at night. Which probably means you should, too.”

  Her eyes ignite with that evergreen fire. “You don’t tell me what to do,” she sputters it out fast like a choo-choo train before softening in an instant. If anything good has come out of her marriage to Axel, it’s the fact he’s somehow managed to prove that Lex has a beating heart. Of course, we’ve always known that in theory but, my goodness, he’s tamed this shrew like nobody’s business. Personally, I’ve always loved the shrew living inside of her. Not only was she highly entertaining, but she was mildly a good role model as a woman trying to make her way on her own in this world, and that’s what we both are. Well, technically, she’s not on her own anymore. I am. But that’s beside the point.

  “Lex, please.” I shake my head at her. “Axel is right. I’m sleeping like a baby at night.” Lies. But I’ve got at least three go-to concealers that Sunday has recommended that will turn any kind of hangover-slash-sleepless night into a far-off dream. Sunday isn’t a world-renowned beauty vlogger for nothing. The girl knows her shit, and, apparently, I’m reaping the benefits.

  The scent of thick warm cologne breezes by as a body falls into the booth next to me, and before I know it, I’m staring at Axel Collin’s doppelgänger. His far younger, far more annoying brother.

  “Are you talking about the case?” Shep doesn’t bother with the niceties, no lube—just bend over.

  For a brief moment, I envision the two of us doing exactly that, and my cheeks begin to heat. My God, I’m such a pervert. I can’t help it. I’m unfortunately just that way. Someone says the word pussycat, and I start to giggle. Any quasi-sexual connotation has me jumping like a seventh-grade boy. Double entendre? I’m rolling on the floor. I place the blame squarely on biology. It’s nature’s way. I figure we’re hardwired to procreate— why feel bad about my urges? If Lex knew half the things that drifted through my mind, I’m sure she’d take me to the ladies’ room and dunk my head in the toilet.

  “No,” I flat line while glaring at Shep. “We’re not talking about the case. We were talking about you and how bad your feet stink. Axel here said your poor family had to keep a podiatrist on call. I hear they suggested amputating both legs below the knee just to be safe.”

  Shep’s lips twitch with annoyance, and I can’t help feel a little giddy that I was able to get such a rise out of him so quickly. No lube bend over. Two can play that game. And, in truth, Shep and I have always played games with one another from the moment we met. It’s our way. But then, there was the incident of which I don’t speak of, nor think of, lest I push him out of the booth to a certain death, or in the least a mild contusion. I can pin all of my negative energy that I carry for him on that one horrifically embarrassing night. But I’m not bitter.

  Axel leans in. “They’ve detained someone for questioning.”

  I suck in a quick breath, and my entire body tenses before a swell of relief comes over me. “Oh, thank God,” I bleat. “Honestly, I felt as if an assassin was lingering around every corner. It was terrifying to think there was a killer on the loose, and all I have to protect myself with is a hot pink can of mace no bigger than my lipstick.”

  Lex gags as she struggles to get her words out. “I knew it! You were afraid. Terrified if I’m quoting.” She gives Axel a swift swat on the arm. “I’ll have Marlin hire a personal bodyguard for you. There’s no way I want you roaming the mean streets of Hollow Brook alone.”

  Both Axel and Shep have the nerve to chuckle. They keep this up, and my sister will make sure there will be two more homicides before the day is through.

  Axel shakes his head while pecking a kiss over my sister’s cheek, and instantly she simmers down. It’s actually a bit miraculous to witness. He’s like the Lex whisperer. Lexy would have such a better ring to it, but that use of her name is strictly verboten. It’s what my mother called her affectionately before she unaffectionately ditched us for more exciting pastures. My sister and I haven’t even tried to look for our mother after all these years. There are some people who don’t want to be found, and we just so happen to not care to look for her. Besides, we have each other, and that’s crazy making enough.

  “No way.” I’m quick to shoot down the idea of having some sixty-year-old rent-a-cop shadowing me around campus. That’s a surefire way of guaranteeing I’ll be reading books in my dorm rather than joining Harley down at the sex clubs, and I’ll be damned if that sex club isn’t looking better by the moment. “Campus security has really beefed up. I can’t go ten feet without seeing the boys in blue. And the way that Marlin keeps texting me, he’s as good as here.” I lean toward Axel. “So, what else do they know? Who was he?”

  Shep takes a quick breath and expands his chest the size of a football field. “His name was Barry Larson. It turns out he was a welder from Jepson. Shot twice in the chest with a .45.”

  Lex drops her jaw while looking at me as if I just threatened to pull out said .45. “Everyone knows that. It’s been all over the news. Oh, that’s right—you don’t watch the news.”

  “Because it’s depressing!” I bounce in my seat, suddenly very depressed that I’m locked in this booth with the three of them.

  Baya comes by and brings us each a glass of water, and we put in our orders quickly. It feels both weird and wrong to have my boss taking my order when I’m due to work a shift in less than twenty minutes. But Baya is so down-to-earth and kind, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I spent my entire shift in this booth with family.

  Once she bounces back to the kitchen, Axel taps the table as if calling court back to session. “I don’t think this was random. Marlin mentioned the guy wasn’t robbed. He still had his wallet and his phone.”

  Shep nods. “And he was shot at close range. It was personal.”

  I offer up an indignant huff. “Or, he interrupted a drug deal—or was part of a drug deal gone wrong. Or, it could have easily been a lunatic transient who was in desperate need of meds. God knows I’m seeing them around town more and more.”

  Lex slams her hand over the table, her nose tipped to the ceiling. “Oh my God, Serena. I’m going to roll you up in bubble wrap and take you home where you belong.”

  “Ha!” I’m quick to squawk at her warped bubble wrap thinking. “Let’s just put me in a locked room for the rest of my days to protect me from everything! You do realize you can never have children.”

  Both Axel and Lex stare at me, wide-eyed, morbidly silent.

  “What?” I shrink a little in my seat. “I meant, you’ll be one of those helicopter parents whose kids will grow up to affectionately call Lex their Smother.”

  Lex glances away, and I’d swear on my life there are tears in her eyes. My stomach bottoms out because, for the love of all things holy, Lex doesn’t cry. Besides, something really awful might happen if she does—think Wicked Witch of the West meets bucket of water. It won’t end well. Lex will melt, and then I will really be lost because at the end of the day she was and is a damn good mother, to me.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth, and she waves me off, right back to her ornery self.

  “Marlin said you had a r
un-in with the corpse before he was a corpse.” She’s back to stink eyeing me on a serious level. If those lasers could bear holes into my head, I would have been Swiss cheese over a decade ago.

  I look to Shep. I’ve already relayed this to him, and to the police, although I may have omitted this to my sweet and sour sis because I didn’t want to entice a level five panic. But I can see it’s too late for that.

  “I bumped into him at the door.” I can’t help but scowl at Lex. “I was tying my apron, and he was trying to walk through me. It was an accident, really. He dropped his phone and this—” My mouth hangs open a moment.

  That piece of paper with the string of numbers on it comes to mind. My hand pats down the front of my apron before digging in and, sure enough, it’s still there. I clear my throat, pretending to have lost my train of thought. There’s no way I’m going to whip something like that out at the table. Lex is liable to jump right out of her skin and set this entire building on fire with her rage. At this point, that receipt is tantamount to having Barry Larson’s detached finger roaming around on my person. And as gruesome as that sounds, it’s exactly how it’s beginning to feel.

  Axel leans in, eyes bulging as if I just admitted to slaughtering the man myself. “Did he say anything? Do anything that might have indicated he was in trouble?”

  “He was in a hurry, and he was a complete annoyance.” I shoot a quick glance to Shep because he happened to be my second annoyance of the night.

  “Did you see him with anyone?” Axel continues his interrogation.

  “He was sitting with some guy at the bar. I’m pretty sure Bryson turned over the surveillance evidence to the police.” For some reason, that toasted bride comes to mind, and I shoot a wry smile to Shep.

  “What?” Lex demands. “I know that look. You’re hiding something.”

  “It’s nothing, I swear. It was a crazy night, and the place was crawling with mental cases. Case in point—Shep”—I steal a moment to sneer at him—“and an entire flock of women dressed up in defunct wedding dresses. They were pretty toasted.”

  “Divorce party?” Lex perks up at the thought. Lex is happily married, but something about the bitter side of life has always appealed to her. She’s pleasantly damaged that way.

  “You’re close,” I offer a congratulatory nod. “Breakup bash. Fortunately for the bride-to-be, they never made it to I do.” I try not to rewind that psychotic night back in my mind. “Anyway, it was definitely some testosterone-based vitriol happening.” I slit a glance Shep’s way. It’s still happening, and I’m the one carrying the bitter baton.

  Baya delivers our food, and we knock it all out in record time. Axel and Lex get up to leave, and we hug it out.

  “I’ll be calling you,” Lex says it like a threat, and I certainly appreciate my sister’s brand of hostile concern.

  They take off, and it’s just the nuisance and me.

  “Well, my shift is starting in a few. Be gone, boy.” I slap him over the chest with a set of spare napkins I pulled out of my apron, and that tiny piece of paper flutters through the air like confetti. “Oh my God!” My limbs flail in a genuine panic, and Shep snaps the paper up effortlessly, holding it over his head as I try my best to snatch it back.

  “What’s this?” He tips his head to the side, that cocky grin blooming on his face, and I can’t help but notice those dimples of his digging in deep.

  “You infuriate me!” I shout as I leap up and try to take what’s rightfully mine, even if I did inherit it in a rather horrific way.

  Shep spins around and examines the paper. “07-45-22-20? What is this?” He turns back, that obnoxious smile wiped from his face. “Your locker combination, sweetie?”

  I snap it back and fold it neatly before settling it back where it belongs. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is.” I don’t bother rolling my eyes because it just so happens I like Shep believing he’s right in this case. It’s my murder memento, and as dark as that sounds, I’m not giving it up to Shepherd Collins of all people. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”

  Shep sags into me. That dark stubble on his cheek looks soft enough to touch, and, oddly, my fingers twitch to do just that. “You won’t just be starting your shift, you’ll be starting your internship. I’m letting you do both at the same time so you don’t have to spend any more hours at this place if you don’t want to.”

  “Really? You’re letting me?” I can’t help but give him a hard time, even if I am enormously grateful. “Thank you, I think.”

  “You’re welcome, I think.” Shep lays a warm hand over my arm, an endearing move if he was my brother, but a completely irritating move considering he’s not. I take a brisk step out of his grasp, and his brows dip disapprovingly. “Your job is to think of something extracurricular that drums up business for this place, and if that happens to be something that could work for you as well financially, that’s bonus points. It’ll be next to impossible, though. I’m not really expecting you to pull off that feat.” He gives a conciliatory wink as if gifting me an out.

  I don’t waste a moment before getting in his face. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

  “Serena”—he says my name as if he felt sorry for me—“this is a bar. A hookup joint personified. Don’t waste the energy. Just streamline their soda machines or something simple to that effect.”

  “Something simple?” My rage hits its zenith, zero to hot-headed hero in less than a scathing second. Come to think of it, Shep has always had the power to accelerate my heart rate—especially after that infamous night. And more than I hate that infamous night, I hate the fact it never seems to affect him. And why would it? He’s the ass that caused it in the first place. A perpetrator is seldom sorry for the damage they cause. Not that I’m damaged. In fact, I’m better than ever before.

  “You think I’m too simpleminded to take on the challenge, don’t you?” I poke him hard in the chest, and my finger feels as if I’ve just poked a wall of granite. “You think my brain cells couldn’t handle jumping through the hoops required to come up with something great, don’t you?” I give another hard-hitting poke and, my God, Shep is made of steel. I’m pretty sure if I poke any harder I’ll have a broken finger to contend with. “In fact, I will think of something extracurricular not only to help the Black Bear increase their profits, but I’ll line my bank account with some extra green myself.” Which would be great, considering my bank account is far more used to a bright red bloodbath instead.

  A thought comes to me, swift as a lightning bolt, and I suck in a deep breath.

  “You’re right. The Black Bear is hookup central.” I glance to the crowd funneling in, filled with coeds and hot as hell jocks that look ready to party. “A dating app for WB.” I straighten triumphantly. “The hookups, as you so crudely referred to them, can meet up at the Black Bear, a safe, public environment, grab dinner—which will increase the bottom line for the owners and bring the nickels rolling in my direction too, considering I’ll be charging a fee to access my bevy of beauties.” I blow a breath over my nails and buff them against my collar. “Now scat! Your wicked work here is done.”

  I take off for the kitchen and put on my nametag as the masses continue to filter through those doors. It’s going to be a long night. The summer is already off to a psychotic start and we haven’t even gotten out of the gate. Harley and that sleazy dive club she mentioned come to mind. Maybe I will do something out of character and totally insane to unwind.

  I clock in, speed back out to the bar, and smack into Shep as he’s heading for the exit. Our eyes lock for a moment, and something in the pit of my stomach cinches. A jolt runs through me just the way it did all those years ago, and I slap my hands over his chest, pushing him away. Shep lifts his arms in the air as if surrendering before backing up and bolting out the door.

  Just the memory of what happened all those years ago infuriates me even more.

  I loosen and tie my apron once again, a habit I’ve picked u
p on when I’m good and frustrated, and working ten tables in a packed house has usually done it, even though this time the honor clearly goes to Shepherd Collins. I’m about to segue behind the bar when I look up and spot a dark-haired guy with a pale as paper face. There’s something eerily familiar about him, and I squint into him trying to place him. Maybe one of Tyson Swanson’s friends? No, too old. Harley had better not have anything to do with this guy. He totally looks like trouble—trouble!

  That’s it. That’s where I know him.

  He glares right at me before charging in this direction.

  “Oh my God, it’s him,” I whisper as a breath gets lodged in my throat, and I freeze.

  Shepherd

  The Sloppy Pelican is clear on the other side of town from the Black Bear, and I’m guessing that’s why Bryson Edwards, one of the owners of the aforementioned establishment, asked to meet me here. I glance up at that oversized Pelican sitting on the roof and glower at it a moment. Of all of the bright ideas my brother has had, opening an eatery with his best friends has been the most unexpected, and for that I’m proud of him. But that bird has always made the place feel a bit cartoonish, and yet the place is packed and pumping twenty-four seven. It wasn’t always that way, but once they revamped their menu, things took a swift turn in the right direction, and I’m damn glad. I like seeing my brother happy and successful.

  Emilia comes to mind with her megawatt smile, those bright violet-gray eyes, and I miss her. The Pelican happens to be the last place I saw my sister alive. The place had just crested its opening night and we had dinner, laughed, and I actually danced with my sister to the house band. It was a celebratory night, and as far as memories go, it was a good one.

  Teagan pops up from seemingly nowhere and wraps her arms around me with a hard embrace.

  “You’re thinking about her.” She pulls back with a pained smile twitching on her lips. She is Emilia’s doppelgänger in every way, and yet it only makes my day to be near my kid sister. “I can tell.”