Twilight's Encore Read online

  He had just turned to begin his journey down to the ground when a shadow of movement froze him in his tracks. The hair on the back of his neck lifted as though a static charge fueled the air. Jared shivered. His buddy, Frank, was the one with the supposed sixth sense, not him. He leaned over the railing and squinted into the gloom. “Who’s there?”

  Nothing stirred, not even a… ghost.

  This place was getting to him. He’d never thought himself superstitious, but after his own accident—he rubbed a gloved hand over his stitches—and the stories his workmates kept blabbing on about he was rethinking his position. Between this incident and the shit with Annie… their always-complicated relationship had taken a turn for the worse since he’d found out she’d given birth to their son eight years earlier but forgot to send him the memo. And now someone had broke into her store—while she was in the building. He was losing sleep, which turned him into a larger asshole than normal, as Ty would say.

  A sudden vibration shook the scaffolding.

  Jared’s hands white-knuckled the railing. His pulse jumped through the nearby roof. What the… he looked down over the edge into the laughing gaze of Larry, the moron. “Do you have a death wish, you fucking idiot?”

  “Thought you could use a little shaking up.” He laughed. “You should’ve seen your face… priceless.”

  “Yeah, well, when I get down from here your face is going to need MasterCard to restructure it, Ty or no Ty.” Jared growled.

  His gaze slid to the now specter-free gallery before his booted foot dropped to the first step. “Hold this thing still.”

  Normally he had no problem with heights. Shit, he’d performed his share of HAHO jumps without breaking a sweat, but lately… he shook his head and concentrated on making it safely to the ground.

  Revenge would be sweet.

  ~~~*~~~

  That was close.

  Ramsey dropped the gun from its resting position on the back of the seat, and flopped onto his ass. His heart pounded like a freight train. His hands were clammy from the adrenaline rush.

  Shit, this was fun.

  The boss had warned him no injuries; it was all supposed to be made to look as if the building needed to be condemned.

  “Stop the renovations. Nothing else.”

  But, hey, it wasn’t his fault if a body or two happened to get hurt along the way. Stuff happens; sometimes it’s the price of doing a job right. He grinned.

  A quick glance over the chair showed a now empty scaffold. He’d better hurry up and finish before someone decided to come take a look-see. He half crawled, half crouched his way to the second last urn on the right. His hand dipped into his coat pocket and came out with a small black box. He turned it over, flipped the switch, set it inside the urn, and then made his way to the hidden hatch at the back of the room. He’d lucked out and found the door on one of his nighttime forays. It could have been a fire escape or a route for delivering liquor during the days of prohibition. Now it worked to conceal his movements.

  The stairs, enclosed within the walls, were a serpentine route that led from the front to the back of the building. An underground tunnel deposited him into a root cellar about fifty feet from the back door. Perfect.

  Upon entering the eight by ten room his nose pinched shut in reaction to the musty scent reminiscent of a cross between moldy potatoes and moth balls. It reminded him of his Ukrainian grandparent’s farm. He’d hated that place. Hurrying across the dank cellar, sweeping away the cobwebs, he cracked the creaky wooden door open, wincing at the noise. Hard to say how long since this old building had seen any use. It was well hidden behind a thickly leaved bush, the room itself built into the side of a knoll.

  He examined the surrounding area. No movement, unless you count the scrawny momma cat by the garbage bin, no doubt searching for her lost kitten. Sorry, Mom, this is one time the cat won’t come back.

  He carefully stepped out and closed the door, locking it with the rusty but sturdy lock he’d found at the secondhand store. Then he strolled away whistling. Must be lunchtime.

  ~~~*~~~

  Katy pulled up in front of Grits and Grace and smiled at Rebecca who was waving like a lunatic from her seat at the window. She regretting not staying in touch with her old friends since moving to California. First school, then her job, and before she knew it the years had flown by. It would have served Katy right if they’d shut her out upon her return. Instead, as soon as they heard she was in town, and where she was staying, they’d gotten in touch. She hoped by inviting Rebecca and Annie to be in her wedding party she could somehow make up for her negligence.

  Katy stepped from her car and gazed on the busy downtown core. Funny how she’d taken the town for granted growing up. From the family owned drug store on the corner, to the pretty flower shop, and Grace’s diner; all businesses she’d been in and out of dozens of times as a child.

  The sparkle of the fountain in the center of Main Street’s roundabout caught her eye. She remembered when her father was on town council and lobbied for the installation of the water feature. He’d wanted to divert traffic from speeding down the road and hopefully bring more economy to the dying business district with some much needed beautification. Going by the crowd of pedestrians she saw now, he’d succeeded.

  As usual, thoughts of her father left Katy conflicted. On the one hand her dad was everything a girl could ask for in a father, kind, loving, and patient—a stark contrast to their unapproachable mother. But, then there was the man, Kenneth Fowler. Him, she hadn’t liked so much.

  When she was sixteen Katy had overheard her brother, Kyle, arguing with their father about a planned business trip. That was the day the blinders came off. Her kind, sweet dad, was having an affair. And not for the first time apparently. Angry and embarrassed, Katy’s respect all but disappeared for her father. It was only years later, that she came to understand what had driven her dad to cheat.

  This wedding was a second chance for all of them to forgive, if not forget, the angry words of the past.

  Returning Rebecca’s wave, she locked her car and strode toward the front doors of the café. As she slipped through the sparkling glass door held open by a smiling senior, Katy inhaled the rich, dark roast aroma of freshly brewed coffee and beef barley soup. A restaurant full of gossiping customers muted the crooning of Frank Sinatra from the old jukebox in the corner. California was great, but it wasn’t home. She’d missed the friendly accord of neighbors laughing and talking between tables as if they were at a social gathering.

  Rebecca stood as she neared the table, the overhead fluorescents glinting off her raven black mane of hair. Her periwinkle blue eyes crinkled at the edges as her lips lifted in a mile-wide smile of greeting. “There she is, the beautiful bride to be.”

  Conscious of the sudden spark of interest from nearby tables, Katy hurried the last few steps into her friend’s warm embrace.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her throat tight with unshed tears.

  “Not half as much,” Rebecca replied, then kissed her cheek before leaning back to get a better look. “California agrees with you.”

  Katy glanced down at her buttery yellow t-shirt, distressed jeans, and open-toe sandals showing off bright pink nails. Her hair slipped over her shoulder, brushing her cheek. She swept it back and grinned, shrugging. “At least it’s not surfer shorts.”

  Rebecca giggled and returned to her seat. She lifted her cup in a toast. “To west coast sunshine, wherever we live.” She took a sip from her steaming mug and pointed to its twin sitting on the Formica tabletop. “I seem to remember you being a fan of Grace’s coffee, right?”

  The aroma drew a sigh of pleasure from Katy’s rose tinted lips. “Oh perfect, I’ve been looking forward to this.” She slid into the booth. The red leather, warm from the sun, felt good against her back. The coffee was hot and delicious, just as she remembered.

  Fortified, she gazed around the café, noting the little changes since her last visit. A new
glass pie counter showed off Grace’s well-known talent as a pastry chef. The black and white tiles on the floor were the same, maybe with a few more scuffmarks. The dark green walls now carried a variety of landscape paintings. There was one Katy particularly liked of the theatre with the initials S.R. written in the corner. Wonder if a local artist had done it? She’d have to ask Grace if they were for sale. It would look great on her bedroom wall back home. That is if they kept the condo after her and Jeff were married.

  “It looks just the same,” she sighed and sat back, cradling her cup. “I’m glad you were able to meet me. I’ve missed you, Becky.”

  Rebecca’s smile turned shaky. She reached across and squeezed Katy’s outstretched hand. “Me, too. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” She turned Katy’s hand over and admired the sparkling rock on her third finger. “Wow, you should have a bodyguard for that thing.”

  Katy pulled back with a self-conscious laugh and tucked her hand under her leg. “Jeff doesn’t like to do anything small.”

  She glanced up and let out a little yelp of joy. “Susan, you’re still here.” Jumping out of the booth she gave the older woman a warm hug, inhaling hairspray and cigarette smoke mixed with a flowery perfume. The beehive hairdo scratched her cheek, or maybe that was the pen shoved behind an ear decorated with clip-on Shamrock earrings.

  “Course, I am. What else would I be doing?” Susan’s raspy voice grumbled as her boney fingers rubbed up and down Katy’s back. “It’s about damn time you came home. That boy of yours missed you awful. We all did.”

  The heat climbed Katy’s cheeks. That boy’s mouth had driven her crazy last night.

  And his words had wrenched her heart.

  She swallowed around the golf ball lodged in her throat and kissed the woman’s papery cheek. “I’m sorry, Susan. I should have kept in touch. Mom sends her love.”

  “How is your mother? Still ruling her kingdom?” Susan tipped her head, but her beehive defied gravity and stayed upright.

  Katy slid back into the booth and took another sip of the cooling coffee. “You know Mom, she’s not happy unless she’s making some poor schmuck miserable. I don’t think she’ll ever leave that hospital.”

  Susan barked out a laugh that turned into a coughing jag and waved away Katy’s concern. “Well, it’ll be good to see her next month.” She glanced over the booth and a sly gleam came into her eyes. “That is if the wedding is still a go?”

  Just then a big, hard body slipped into the seat beside her, almost landing in her lap. “Yeah, Katy, that’s the million dollar question of the day. Is it still a go? Are you marrying your lover boy?” Ty curled his arm over the back of the booth, practically encapsulating them into their own little cocoon.

  She was faintly aware of the heavy-set man Ty had arrived with sitting with Rebecca and her prickly demeanor, but the man at her side took most of Katy’s attention. His woodsy scent and the warmth of his thigh touching her leg surrounded her. The mischief gleaming out of those cerulean blue eyes reminded her of the old Ty. The one who stole her heart. And then let her walk away.

  She moved closer to the window, ignoring his enveloping presence. Holding out her hand—yes, the one with the boulder on it—Katy smiled at the newcomer. “Hi, I’m Katy Fowler.”

  The stranger grinned and clasped her hand in a beefy mitt, leaning over to bestow a kiss upon her ring. “You don’t remember me? I used to chase you out of your brother’s room whenever we were doing homework together.”

  Katy shook her head, and then all of a sudden it clicked. “That was not homework, Mitch Taylor. You guys were looking at girly pictures.” She laughed, noticing Rebecca’s darkening frown with curiosity. She’d have to grill her friend later.

  Susan dropped the menus she’d been carrying onto the table. “I’ll just let you get reacquainted,” she said, and winked. “Be back to take your order in a couple of minutes.” And with that she was gone, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

  Mitch slung his brawny arm around Rebecca’s stiff shoulders, and ignoring her gasp, helped himself to a shot of her coffee. “Well, isn’t this like a blast from the past?”

  As Katy squirmed to keep a space open between her and the temptation she was sitting next to, she tried to decide whether to laugh, or groan.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ty wanted to kick his own ass. What was he thinking? He’d already decided last night to put some distance between himself and the frustratingly beautiful bride-to-be. Yet the moment he’d walked into the restaurant, his senses had directed him straight to her booth like a freaking homing beacon.

  Now, here he sat in the seventh level of Hell. So close he couldn’t help but inhale the lavender fragrance of Katy’s freshly washed hair, still slightly damp where it rested on her shoulders. So close he kept getting glimpses of the lacey edge of her white bra whenever she squirmed to avoid touching him. And the squirming… the squirming took him straight back to his kitchen the night before and his mouth feasting on her lips. Her sexy moans as his fingers teased her satiny heat and her writhing as he took her up and over the edge. The peach glow of her skin and the sultry scent of her release as she went boneless in his arms.

  His jeans grew uncomfortably tight. Mitch’s smug smile across the table made Ty want to kick him. Ty’s addiction to Katy was no secret. Everyone in town had known. Which made it all the more important he proved he was well and truly over her.

  Angry with himself and the whole situation, Ty removed his arm from the back of her seat and turned his attention to the interior of the restaurant, desperately hoping for a diversion.

  His wandering gaze landed on his brother. Jack sat a few booths down and across the aisle, a sky-high platter of pancakes dripping with syrup on the table in front of him. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and gave Ty a troubled frown. Ty grimaced, and shrugged. Jack had tried to talk to him the last time Katy dumped him, but he’d been too wound up to listen. Jack was no doubt worried his brother was going to get hurt again, but Ty could have told him different. Once bitten, twice as careful; he’d learned his lesson.

  Belying that, her soft laughter over something Mitch said made his stomach twist itself into a knot of jealousy. He glared across the table and Mitch smirked. Ty’s scowling gaze fell on Susan serving a stranger over by the old jukebox. He caught the guy staring at their table before he turned back to his menu. Must be new in town, anyone familiar with Grits and Grace knew the list of options hardly ever varied. Grace’s motto was, “Why mess with something if it’s not broken?” Customers loved her food just the way it had been served for the past twenty years. They didn’t like change. And neither did he.

  But then Katy leaned forward to show something on her cell phone to her friend. The sun’s rays caught in her hair and turned the gleaming strands to antique gold. He’d always loved her hair. The soft, silky, fragrant feel of it gliding over his skin. He’d been hooked from the first time he saw her, sassing him from the safety of her father’s side, the flare of the flashlight highlighting her lithe figure. His gaze had followed her as she ran up the aisle, her beautiful mane flowing behind her, and just like that, he’d been lost.

  Rebecca’s excited shriek jolted him back to the restaurant with a start. Her hands were clasped to her chest—along with Mitch’s appreciative gaze—and she vibrated with excitement.

  “What did I miss?” he asked, his lips lifting with an amused quirk.

  “I’m going to be a bridesmaid,” she squeaked. “My first time, and it’s going to be my best friend’s big day. Can you believe it?” She thrust the phone into his face. “Here, look.”

  He had to grab it in self-defense or risk getting a black eye. Tapping the screen to refresh the picture, Ty gazed down at an undernourished model wearing a frilly dress. Not sure what he was supposed to say, all he could up with was, “Nice shade of green.”

  “It’s sea-foam.” Rebecca corrected. “And look, the hemline is cut to give a sensation of waves. Oh, and I love the mo
del’s iridescent shoes. It’s perfect.”

  Ty was aware of Katy’s unnatural stillness.

  Her bated breath.

  The silent waiting, as though his opinion might actually matter to her.

  He met her eyes—eyes that matched the color of the dress—and answered Rebecca. “Heart-stopping.”

  ~~~*~~~

  Rebecca’s soft sigh of satisfaction and Mitch’s teasing all faded to white noise as a multitude of unsaid words passed between Katy’s tense body and Ty’s. Why was he making everything so difficult? She was getting married in six weeks. It was too late for them to be playing these old games.

  But she couldn’t control her body’s response to his velvet dark voice or the heat in the blue-flame of his gaze. It made her dream impossible dreams. She wanted a chance to explain what happened all those years ago. To beg his forgiveness. But at the same time, she also wanted to know why he never even tried to get in touch afterward.

  For months they had spent every moment together, so in love she’d known it was just a matter of time before they married. Ty was her first lover, the only one she’d ever accepted into her body. They were going to be together, have a family, and grow old together. Then it happened; her father’s betrayal, her mother’s depression, her brother’s defection. Katy’s perfect world turned upside down.

  And then they were over. A few harshly said words and the supposed love of a lifetime ended.

  Katy frowned as the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Someone was staring at her. She searched the vicinity of the restaurant, not quite sure whether it was her imagination or not. Her gaze landed on a stranger sitting by the jukebox. His dark head was down perusing a newspaper spread out across the table. She squinted to make out the tattoo on the back of the hand holding the page. Shrugging, she gave up and moved on to the next table.