Haunted on Bourbon Street (8 page)

Through my mounting horror I couldn’t help wondering what the patrons had thought of bottles flying through the air. Suddenly I was intensely glad I’d been passed out and missed the whole thing.

Kane reached out and gently caressed my forehead, again. “You had us worried.”

The tenderness in his voice warmed me and scared me at the same time. Imagining sexy times excited me, but getting intimate was another thing entirely. “Pyper wasn’t hurt?”

He shook his head. “Just shook up.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat up. For the first time I noticed I was wearing my own Nick and Nora owl pajama bottoms and camisole. Who’d changed my clothes? I pulled the covers up, feeling exposed.

“Pyper helped you into your pajamas,” Kane said, reading my mind. “She also brought your toiletries. They’re in my bathroom.”

My stuff was mingling with his in the bathroom.
Yikes.
“Okay, thanks. But how did I get here?”

“I carried you.”

Too bad I’d missed
that
.

“Then, I went back for Pyper. I’d left her in Charlie’s care and by the time I got back, she’d settled down enough to insist we get your stuff so you’d be comfortable when you woke up. She stayed in her room—” he pointed to the wall on our right, “—and I stayed here with you, just to be sure you were okay.”

Wait what? “You and Pyper live together?” Hadn’t Charlie told me they weren’t a couple? Maybe she was misinformed.

“No. This is her place, but I keep stuff here for when I stay over. I guess you could say this is sort of my room.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to make of that. Friends with benefits?

His eyes crinkled as his lips quirked up. “We aren’t a couple, just business partners and best friends. Sometimes I work so late I crash here.”

“I didn’t ask.” His ego swelled, pushing on my mental barriers.
Crap.

“Yes you did. You just didn’t voice it.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, catching a glimpse at the clock. “Shit, I have to get to work.” I jumped up, causing a dizzy spell and almost fell back onto the bed. I put one hand on my throbbing head and the other on the bedpost to steady myself.

Kane scooted over and eased me back down. “No you don’t. Pyper said to tell you not to come in today. She’s got it covered.”

“But—”

“No, the last thing we need is you passing out in the café. She’ll call me if she needs help.” He got up. “I’ll go make you some breakfast. Stay here and rest, or grab a shower if you want. All your stuff is in the bathroom.”

I nodded, watching him head out the door. Kane wasn’t at all what I expected him to be. I’d judged him on the fact that he owned a strip club, and while I’d never met a strip club owner, I’d pegged him as a cross between Hugh Hefner and Larry Flint. In other words, a ladies’ man who thought about sex, women and more sex. Why else would a person go into the strip club business? I suspected he had some of those qualities, as most men did, but clearly he was made of a lot more. He’d been genuinely concerned about me, took care of me, and he was still doing it this morning. Smiling to myself, a warm feeling of pleasure grew in my chest.

Not wanting to have breakfast in my pajamas I got up and headed for a bath. The oversized tub took up half the bathroom. Feeling deliciously pampered, I couldn’t resist turning on the jets. I would have stayed there until my entire body shriveled into a raisin, but the smell of coffee and Kane’s call that breakfast was ready lured me out.

My backpack sat on the counter filled with my makeup bag, toothbrush, deodorant and, to my surprise, the Honey Dust. Why Pyper thought I’d need it for an overnight when I was knocked out, I didn’t know. But considering what happened the night before, I couldn’t believe she’d included it. Was she possessed? I hadn’t even touched it since the day I’d moved in. Maybe it was an act of defiance against the spirit. I set my shoulders and decided if she was brave enough, then so was I. What’s a little Honey Dust compared to flying bottles?

“If you’re here, Ghost, please stay away. You’re not invited into my space.” Hopefully that would keep him out. Looking around to be sure I was alone, I lightly dusted myself with the sweet scent. The air didn’t stir, and nothing suddenly appeared. Feeling victorious, I put the jar away, and dressed in the clean jeans and tank top Pyper had picked out for me. After pulling my hair into a bun and slapping some makeup on, I ventured into the rest of the apartment to join Kane.

I shuffled over the rich pecan hardwood floors, awestruck. I’d never been in a more soothing living room. The overstuffed mocha couch and loveseat were covered in peach pillows, complementing the vanilla cream walls. The aroma of fresh coffee filtered from the kitchen. Did the apartment always smell like freshly ground beans? It
was
directly above the café. I stopped in the adjoining dining room at the ten-foot-tall windows, letting the sun warm my face.

Kane appeared from the kitchen and stepped up behind me, handing me a steaming mug.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder.

He hesitated then brushed his warm lips along the nape of my neck, gently kissing me. The flick of his soft tongue melted any resistance I might have mustered.

My breath caught soundlessly.

“Humm,” he murmured. “Honey Dust tastes better on you than I thought it would.”

Chapter 6

Kane moved away and retreated to the kitchen. I grabbed the window frame, steadying myself. Kane just kissed me. On my neck.
Thank you, Pyper, and your silly Honey Dust fetish
. I absently raised my mug and then sputtered as the scalding coffee seared my tongue. “Ow!”

“You okay?” Kane rounded the corner with two plates.

“Uh, yeah. Hotter than I expected.” I held the mug up and opened my mouth to ask if he’d kiss it and make it better, but clamped it shut when my brain took over. If he wanted to kiss me—real on-the-lips-with-tongue-and-everything kissing—then he would, but I wouldn’t beg for it.

He gave a sympathetic smile and put the plates on the table. “Breakfast. Hope you like waffles.” He passed me a silver carafe of syrup as I sat.

The waffle was cooked to perfection, golden brown on each side and smothered in fresh blueberries. I drizzled the syrup and sighed in pleasure with the first bite. “Yum.”

Satisfaction seeped from him as he watched me.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m glad to see you have an appetite. If you’d had a concussion you probably wouldn’t be very hungry right now.”

My insides turned to Jell-O. Suddenly I wished I’d had the nerve to ask for the kiss. No one but Kat and Gwen had gotten remotely close to caring for me in years, and here I had this gorgeous piece of eye candy doing just that. Of course he could be trying to make sure I didn’t sue his ass, but considering my inside information source, I really didn’t think so.

“Thank you for…everything,” I said, meaning it.

He nodded. “My pleasure.”

After breakfast, Kane left and I cleaned the kitchen then went back into his room to gather my things. I found my outfit from the night before folded on the dresser and packed it in my backpack on top of my toiletries. The bed remained unmade. I stopped, running my hand over the side Kane had slept in. His lingering concern touched my heart. Overwhelmed, I sat on the bed. It felt good to have a decent man care about what happened to me. Not wanting to let the feeling go, I curled up on his pillow, closed my eyes and breathed.

A man, cloaked by shadows, inched toward me. A soothing calm reached my awareness. The moonlight should have illuminated him, but his features remained unclear in his shadowy form. It didn’t matter. My body recognized him. For the last week he’d visited me almost every night.

He stopped next to the bed and waited.

“
What’s your name,” I asked.

He stood still and silent. No matter what I asked, he never spoke. It was his body that did all the talking.

“
I wish I knew your name.”

A stream of tenderness, longing and a hint of desperation caressed my soul. The sensations tingled in my belly. I shifted and patted the bed, extending an invitation.

He sat, and my arm brushed his solid thigh, sending heat to my center. Wanting to be touched, I lifted my face to his open hand. He cupped my cheek and traced his fingertips down the length of my neck. Moments went by as I delighted in the familiar sensation.

I reached out, exploring the solid, yet still mysterious figure. My fingers danced across his hot skin, feeling what my eyes couldn’t see. His fingers tensed and curled in my hair. Longing worked its way into my consciousness. Without thought I pulled him to lie beside me. Desperate to see my lover, I used my fingers to trace his cheeks, eyes and, finally, his mouth.

I struggled to make out his features, succeeding in just a rough outline. Focusing on his lips, I titled my head, giving him the answer he waited for. Our lips met, and all inhibitions were lost.

It took a while for my brain to process the annoying chirping in my ear. One eye popped open, and I sat up with my body pulsing from the reoccurring dream. Once again I found myself in Kane’s bedroom. Except he wasn’t there, and the chirping was my ringtone.

I groaned and snatched my cell from the bedside table. “Yeah?”

“Jade? It’s Pyper. Ian’s here to do more readings. Can you come down?”

“Sure,” I croaked. “Give me a few minutes.”

In serious need of a cold shower, I headed for the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, refreshed and smelling like a rain forest, I headed to the first floor of the building and found the club’s back door propped open. That was unusual. But if Ian was interviewing multiple people, he might have gotten tired of answering it. A few wall lights were on, giving me just enough light to see where I was headed. Trying not to disturb anything Ian might want to inspect, I stayed close to the walls, but it quickly became clear the place was spotless, completely cleaned up. And empty. Where was everybody?

I sat, staring at the stage trying to make sense of the ghost activity. Other than the energy suck after Pyper called out the ghost, my experiences with it had been mild. Honey Dust and an apparition were hardly threatening. But bottles flying around a crowded club? A chill ran down my back thinking about it. At least my suspicions were confirmed. It was haunting the whole building, not just my apartment.

Unless it was just haunting
me
.

No, it had attacked Pyper the night before. Had she pissed it off that day in my apartment?

I took a deep breath and walked to the stage. Maybe it had left some sort of emotional imprint. The events of the night before played in my mind like a movie reel. I saw Charlie and myself behind the bar, both hopping around, busily mixing drinks. I was watching Kane, surprised to notice he was keeping an eye on me. Pyper took her first few steps to the stage. Then the bottles flew. Dark emotions—anger, jealousy, disgust, and intense longing—wrapped around me. I could barely see Pyper through the whirlwind of bottles, but a faint trace of her terror reached me. The emotions intensified as if feeding on her fear. My body spasmed, unable to filter it all. I couldn’t breathe. Lightning bolts of synapses crisscrossed through my brain before my vision turned to snowy static.

I woke, lying on the stage, with Pyper holding my hand. “What happened?” I asked, disoriented.

“You tell me,” she said. “I was headed into the office to make a phone call when I saw you standing there. You looked like you were in some kind of trance. Then your face went white, your eyes got wide and you collapsed. Something frightened you.”

“No, not frightened, exactly.” The truth was, I wasn’t sure what just happened. I hadn’t been scared. My own emotions had been buried under the onslaught of the darkness I’d just experienced while the scene had replayed for me. Even the parts I hadn’t been conscious to witness. Did I imagine what I thought happened? My empathy gift said otherwise.

“Then what?” Pyper looked at me expectantly.

What indeed? “Startled?”

“That look was not a startled one,” she said.

How could I tell her what had happened without revealing my ability? Panic formed in a little ball at the pit of my stomach. “Maybe I just overdid it after last night.” I stood, shaking slightly.

She stared at me for minute. “Yeah, maybe. I think you should sit down.”

She had a point, but I didn’t want to stay that long. “Where is everyone?”

“Next door, waiting for you.”

“Oh. I thought we were meeting here. Let’s go.” I took off, not caring if she followed. I needed to get out of club. It just felt…wrong.

I entered the back room of the café from the adjoining hallway and found Kane.

“I was starting to think you fell back asleep,” he said.

“No, I thought we were meeting next door. Is Ian out front?” I peeked through the tiny window from the back room of the café. Ian was sitting at one of the tables with a woman sporting bright red curls.