Energized

by Mary Behre

  The night had damn well better improve. Or this would be the last one the Boxing Cat would cater. Niall might hate tight places but he fucking despised drama more.

  Hannah hurried into the kitchen tent. Her tawny hair was again pulled back in a braid except for the length of pink plaited over one shoulder. She laughed at something Karma said until she saw Niall. When he met her gaze, he swore an arrow went straight into his chest. It was sharp and burning and decidedly not painful. No, he could experience it a thousand times more and still want to feel it again.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Karma before she crossed the room to him.

  “Niall, you gonna help me—?” Virgil began but Karma cut him off.

  “I can help, Virg. Tell me what you need.” Karma strode over to the stove and, using one arm, turned Virgil back to the stove again. She peeked back over their shoulders and winked at Hannah.

  Hannah’s cheeks flamed. “Can we talk someplace private?”

  Niall led the way out of the tent and around the side of the house. Hannah followed, her face turned up to the sun. Her tawny hair blazed golden red in the late afternoon rays. They stopped a few feet from the driveway. Where they stood, they could see the kitchen tent, but not much else.

  “I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me since I arrived in the city. As promised, here.” She pulled a wad of twenties out of her pocket and tried to hand them to him.

  Niall tucked his hands behind his back. “I don’t want your money, Hannah. They were a gift.”

  “You always give your staff such extravagant presents?” Hannah countered, again trying to hand him the money. “Those art supplies were high-end. I know supplies and what you gave me cost more than what I lost.”

  “You and I both know you’re not just a staff member.” Niall stepped forward and did the one thing he’d promised them both he wouldn’t do.

  He lowered his head and kissed her.

  CHAPTER 18

  HANNAH SAW THE move. She knew he was going to kiss her, and she could have waited for him to close the distance. Instead, she lifted onto her toes and brushed her lips against his. And yes, this. This was what she’d been craving since that cold morning last December.

  His taste. The feel of his mouth on hers. She inhaled him. She didn’t question why or how this moment finally arrived. She didn’t worry about what would happen when it ended. She simply reveled in the heady sensation of Niall’s mouth on hers.

  His hands gripped her hips, pulled her tight against him. She moaned or maybe he did. Or maybe they both did. Who cared? He was kissing her again. Finally.

  She drove her hands into his soft hair, pulling him tighter against her. She couldn’t get close enough. Air was unnecessary. Breathing inconsequential. All she wanted for the rest of her life was to go on kissing him. Feeling him hard and hot and heavy against her.

  And holy schmoley, the man was an encyclopedia of control. She tugged at his hair, and he growled, kissed her harder, then gentled his touch. The restraint was barely in place. Oh God, what she wouldn’t give to see him lose his control. To feel him lose it because of her touch.

  “Niall? You out here?” Virgil’s voice was better than a bucket of ice water.

  Hannah and Niall broke apart like two kids caught doing . . . well, exactly what they were doing. She started to giggle. Niall pressed a finger to his lips.

  “Yeah, just a sec, Virg,” he called out in a roughened throaty voice. His lips swollen with her kisses. His hair mussed. His eyes wild and unfocused. “Sorry,” he mouthed. “Shhh.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth but couldn’t quite stifle the laugh. God, that had been fun. So much better than the first time he’d kissed her and that had been smoldering, rock-your-socks-off hot. This was better. Different. Sexier and more sensual somehow. But Niall’s wide-eyed panicked expression kept her giggling.

  He pulled her tight against his chest and she laughed into his shoulder.

  “Go on in, Virg. This might take a minute,” Niall called out, his voice distinctly more in control than before.

  “All right. Meet ya back in the tent.” Virgil’s voice faded.

  “Do you think he knew what we were doing?” Hannah asked between snickers.

  “If he hadn’t before you started cackling, he definitely knew then.” Niall’s words were clipped, but his eyes were twinkling. “Damn, I’ve wanted to do that since I found you in my restaurant on Wednesday.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Niall kissed her again.

  “Not bagging your groceries.” Hannah was pleased when Niall laughed.

  Then he had to ruin it by getting serious. He stepped back and kept an arm’s length between them. “Hannah, we can’t do this here. We can’t . . . This is my business.”

  She nodded. She understood. She really did. But, man, did it suck. “I get it. That was just a one-time thing.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Niall pulled her against him and kissed her again. More power and more passion and even less control than before. Then he put her at arm’s length again. “I meant we can’t do it here. My staff needs to respect my authority. I can’t get that if they think there’s any hanky-panky going on.”

  “Hanky-panky? Marine, you say I have weird expressions.” Hannah laughed. “So does this mean you want to . . . ?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He put his finger over her lips to stop her from speaking. “And if you make any more references to sex, I’m going to break all my rules and take you right here.”

  She shivered, grinned, then lightly nipped his finger.

  Niall shuddered. “After the reception.” He shook his head. “After the cleanup after the reception, I’ll take you back to my place. Tell Karma you’re sleeping somewhere else tonight.”

  She tried to ignore the niggle of doubt that he hadn’t said Tell Karma you’re sleeping at my place tonight. Instead, she nodded. “Okay. Just remember my rule. Keep calm and carry cond—”

  He kissed her again, cutting off her words. When he’d sufficiently kissed her breathless, he whispered, “I’ve got two boxes.”

  * * *

  DURING THE TOAST, Hannah snuck into the reception hall. Shelley and Jules were seated at the head table with their husbands, Dev and Seth. Her sisters looked like they could have been twins despite the three years that separated them. Shelley had blue eyes and was curvier. Jules had green eyes and was an inch taller than Shelley. Otherwise, they were identical. It was uncanny. And a bit unnerving.

  They looked like a perfect blend of their parents. Hannah only slightly resembled them. She had the same nose and chin, but otherwise, she looked more like their mother than either of her sisters.

  Twice, she started to go to the head table to surprise them. Twice, something got in her way. First it was Sadie demanding that Hannah take drinks to one of the back tables. Then it was Michael dropping a tub full of dishes in the prep tent. She hurried to help him, and by the time she returned, her sisters were on the dance floor.

  There never seemed to be the right moment to approach them. And she was enjoying watching them laugh. Soon, she’d introduce herself. But for now, she’d just listen. Maybe learn a little more about them.

  “We need you in the food tent. Got to plate up the cake and get it served.” Ross was positively glowing. He appeared to be enjoying himself as much as the guests.

  “Sure thing, Ross.” Hannah headed for the kitchen tent.

  “Hannah, you really should think about sticking around. You’re a big reason tonight went so well,” Ross said, then surprised her with a quick hug. “Think about it. I know Niall said tonight was your last night, but really, you should think about joining the staff permanently.”

  “When did Niall say that?” Hannah stopped moving, suddenly understanding why Niall had been so affectionate.

  “Five minutes ago.”<
br />
  Of course he had.

  Hannah wasn’t sure what to think. Or how to respond. Of course Niall assumed she was still leaving. Maybe that was why he suddenly decided to act on the attraction.

  God. Men are so stupid.

  “I’ll think about it, Ross.” Hannah patted him on the arm. She didn’t wait for him to respond, there was no need. He’d already told her everything she needed to know anyway.

  Hannah strode into the prep tent. Virgil cut the cake while Paulie, Sadie, Karma, and two more servers that had been hired for the night set the pieces on plates. The plates were then loaded onto large serving trays. Hannah joined the line and added plate after plate.

  She’d been rolling right along when Sadie bumped into her. Hannah went to catch herself before she fell and ended up throwing out her hands to stop the fall. Her hands fell into two different slices of cake. Chocolate and white icing coated her white gloves.

  “Sorry,” Sadie said in a completely unapologetic tone before she hefted her tray of desserts onto her shoulder and headed through the tent flap.

  The icing was sticky and cold and seeping through the cotton gloves. Hannah yanked them off. She might pity Sadie if the woman didn’t try so hard to be unlikable. Ah, well, no sense letting her ruin Hannah’s good mood.

  Hannah tossed the gloves into the collapsible towel bin near the back of the tent. Then she reached for her tray of desserts. She crossed into the reception tent again. In those few minutes, the sun had gone down and the tent was lit by the hundreds of tiny lights strung from the canopy. It was whimsical and beautiful. And dark.

  The flickering candles on the tables didn’t lend much light. The lighting was perfect for romance and ambience. Not so great for serving food. But she managed to find her table.

  Most of the guests were on the dance floor shaking it to Maroon 5’s “Moves Like Jagger.” Hannah tapped her toe to the music as she quickly set the desserts at the appropriate places. Flipping her tray under her arm, she half-danced back to the kitchen.

  “You’re not here to dance. You’re here to serve the guests,” Sadie snapped in her ear. “No wonder you’re only a temp.”

  Hannah turned to her. “Sadie, what have I ever done to you? Or is your life so incomplete that the only time you feel good about yourself is when you’re tearing someone else down?” Hannah put her hand on Sadie’s arm. “I’m no threat to you. I think if you spent a little time getting to know me, you might really like me.”

  “Fat chance, bitch.” Sadie had two wide rings on her fingers that connected with Hannah’s skin when Sadie tried to pluck Hannah’s hand from her sleeve. The instant the metal touched Hannah’s skin, she was zapped into Sadie’s reality.

  The tent and the reception faded to gray smoke around her and Sadie’s memory came into raging color.

  The tiny apartment was clean, if sparse. But she’d taken the time to prepare a special dinner tonight. They’d been having problems for a while but she could fix it. He’d promised he’d be home right after work. He’d lied. Again. Instead, he’d sent divorce papers.

  She propped her elbows on the table and stared at the blue-and-white candles, now burned down nearly to the nubs, flickering in the center of the dining room table. The delicate antique white tablecloth she had picked out hid the scarred secondhand table and added an air of elegance to the space. It looked perfect.

  It should have been perfect. She’d even taken the time to make his favorite meal, sirloin tips in sherry. The dinner sat cold and untouched.

  Tears tracked down her face. She swiped her cheeks, then wept freely into her hands. When she finally had cried herself out, she scrubbed her face. Her vision still blurry from the crying jag, she stared at the papers in front of her. Divorce papers. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to tell her in person. He’d filed for divorce and sent the papers by courier. That bastard. That fucking bastard. He promised nothing would ever change his feelings. Why didn’t he love her?

  The connection snapped free as Sadie broke the contact.

  Hannah stared in her eyes. Eyes filled with so much hate. So much pain.

  She wanted to hug her. To promise not all men were like that bastard ex-husband. Two things held her still, the images still swirling through her mind, clouding her sense of self. And the utter disgust on Sadie’s face.

  “Hannah?” Karma touched her sleeve. “I need your help.”

  Karma didn’t wait, but pulled Hannah out of the tent and into the fresh air.

  “I’m Hannah Halloran,” Hannah said, trying to ground herself. She wasn’t sure how many times she said it before Karma answered her.

  “Yes, you are. Are you back now?” Karma pursed her lips and stared intently in Hannah’s eyes. “You don’t look like you did the other night. What happened? I thought you only got visions from metal.”

  “She was wearing rings.”

  “Ah.” Karma nodded.

  Hannah sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Was it really obvious?”

  “Only to me.” Karma pulled a bottle of water from her apron, twisted off the lid, and handed it to Hannah. “I walked up just as you gave her that awesome come-to-Jesus speech. At first, I thought she’d hurt you because you went very still. It wasn’t until I saw your aura shift from orange to muddy red that I realized what was going on. It happened fast. I don’t think Sadie would have had a clue even if she knew what you can do.”

  Hannah sipped the cool water. It washed down her throat, taking with it the remaining strains of Sadie’s painful memories. “God, she’s had a rough time. So much pain. No wonder she’s angry all the time.”

  Karma shrugged. “Maybe. And maybe some people are just mean and bring meanness on themselves.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure about that. But the universe had given her a glimpse of Sadie’s life. There had to be a reason. Question was, what was she supposed to do about it?

  She didn’t have time to wonder long. The night was wrapping up fast. Jules and Seth were sharing the last dance of the night.

  Hannah watched from the tent flap again. She’d just do it. She’d cross the floor, put out her hand, and introduce herself to her sister. It was late enough that she could finally surprise her sisters without taking anything away from Jules’s special day.

  “We’re supposed to be cleaning up, not gawking.” Sadie shoved an empty tub at Hannah and stalked off.

  Poor lonely, grumpy Sadie. Hannah couldn’t muster up the energy to be annoyed. She was too nervous. Too excited about talking to her sisters.

  The song ended and Shelley moved to hug Jules.

  Hannah started toward them when Sadie was back, grabbing her elbow. “Over here.”

  Before she could stop her, Sadie had tugged her to the nearest table and started tossing silverware into the tub. A fork bounced out and Hannah caught it out of reflex.

  If she’d been thinking, she’d have let it hit the ground. She’d have pulled on her spare gloves. But she hadn’t.

  The world around her faded to gray again. Like smoke in a glass the present swirled and clouded. Unprepared to have another vision so close to the last one, Hannah could do little more than sink into someone else’s consciousness. All the light in the world sucked down to a single flicker of flame.

  Red candles were spread around the room. Some large, some small. Some old, some so new the wicks had trouble lighting.

  The bed in the center of the room was covered in red satin. Red for passion. Satin for romance. Rose petals were strewn on the bed, the floor, the new IKEA dresser. The stench of roses clung to the thick, hot air. It nearly masked the scent of sex on the rumpled sheets.

  A toilet flushed in the other room.

  Her heart pounded.

  With surprisingly steady hands, she poured another glass of wine. The alcohol masked the drug in his glass. He never asked. Of course he didn’t. He
didn’t care about the drug. She was setting him free. Giving him this one weekend of indulgence, of a glimpse of the life he could never have to be who and what he truly was.

  The clock in the bedroom chirped the time. Four in the afternoon.

  Mercy sighed. Despair washed through her. Their time was nearly up. In a few hours, she’d suggest they go someplace exciting. A house under construction. One she planned to buy for him. They always liked knowing she wanted to give them things. They always took everything she offered.

  Including their freedom.

  The bathroom door opened. Brandt sauntered through in that way only a sexy man could. All prowess and power in his sleek, naked body. He rubbed his head as if it pained him.

  That simply wouldn’t do. No pain. Not yet.

  “Here, lover,” Mercy said, handing him the wine.

  He gulped it greedily.

  “Thirsty?” she asked, knowing the answer. Waiting for the change.

  He nodded.

  She took his manicured hand in hers and led him to the bed. “What you need is a good massage.”

  He lay on his stomach and Mercy climbed on top of him.

  The room vanished, replaced by the image at the construction site.

  Brandt sat bound and dead.

  Blood ran in rivulets from the wound in his neck, in his chest.

  Mercy climbed onto his naked lap and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

  Red lipstick stained his skin.

  * * *

  NIALL AVOIDED HANNAH most of the night. Not because he didn’t want her. He had a job to do. Respect to maintain. And he didn’t trust himself not to haul her back to his place, forsaking his duty. He had to be crazy to even think about spending the night with her again.

  This was supposed to be her last night at the Cat. Could he really take her walking out of his life again? He’d survived it the first time because they’d been virtual strangers.