Just His Taste (7 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Thursday Night

Ava watched her charge talking to his date. Meandering around the party in human form had been probably the most boring job ever, and she really hated having to be in that state.

Twice she'd been approached by men at the party, so she decided to make herself male for the party—short, stubby and a little fat. At least then she'd be able to meander around without too much attention.

And she could watch Jason better. He looked incredibly handsome in his black tux—basic, simple and sexy as sin, unlike so many others who wore bling like it was another outfit layer. Jason made her think of James Bond—subtle and striking.

She had to make herself focus several times, and not let herself get sucked into the beauty of her charge.

Good grief, this was why she didn't take on men—they were far too handsome.

And good kissers.

She shook off the thoughts.

He obviously wasn't affected by it as much as she was—he'd hardly thought about it in fact. At least, not that she could outright tell in his aura. She couldn't read his thoughts, but if they affected his aura, she could see that. And he hadn't shown any sign of being attracted to anyone except his HEA.

Jason approached Tessa, and Ava, still dressed as a man, crept over, trying to be subtle as she listened.

“Tessa, I'm sorry,” Jason said. “It's work.”

“How do you think that's going to look?” Tessa said through gritted teeth. “My date sneaking off before the evening's over?”

“I'm not sneaking off. It's my job. It's not a nine-to-five one. You know that.”

“You're not a cop anymore, Jason. You don't have to run off when a call comes in.”

Jason tensed. “No, I'm not. But if I expect to get paid, I do. Unlike a cop, I don't get a salary. I have to earn my money.”

She let out a harrumph and turned, walking back toward the crowd. Tessa turned and flashed a fake smile, then disappeared into the crowd.

Jason smiled back, though he doubted she saw him, turned and almost ran into Ava. “Oh sorry, man,” Jason said.

“No problem,” Ava replied, hoping she sounded male.

Jason continued.

She let out a sigh. He didn't pause, so she must have been convincing.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Now I need to figure out where he's going.” She raised her hand to pull out her wings, and caught herself before she burst them out of her jacket in front of everyone.

Some habits were hard to break. Even for her.

Instead, she headed, slower than she wanted to, toward the exit to follow Jason out the door.

Just as she reached the entrance, she saw Jason hopping into a dark-blue sedan, and the car taking off.

Shit.

“Okay, I can't fly. So now what?”

She looked back and forth, and saw a yellow taxi idling at the curb.

Ava hopped inside, barely giving the driver a second to think. “Follow that Chrysler at the corner, and I'll pay you double your rate.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And don't look back here again.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gah, how do mortals get anything done when they spend all their time driving around?

Ava shook her head, the magic still making her look like a short, round guy. It felt like she'd been in the cab for eternity. Really, though, it was only long enough for Jason to drop off his dad, and now he was pulling into a coffee shop.

“Park here,” Ava said.

Jason parked and climbed out, still dressed in his fancy penguin suit, and headed inside. If he noticed the cab, he didn't acknowledge it. As the taxi glided to a stop, Ava materialized a one-hundred-dollar bill and shoved it through the plexiglass divider to the driver.

True to his word, he didn't turn around. Which was good because Ava couldn't stand this body another minute. A quick wave of her hand, and Ava transformed into a downplayed version of herself—hair pulled into a messy bun, backpack, mondo-huge sweatshirt, jeans and a pair of glasses. She shuffled out of the car, just another nerdy college student looking for caffeine to fuel her studies.

She followed Jason inside the coffee shop. The store was narrow and long, with tons of chairs and tables set up, a few couches and heavily padded chairs littering the room. The few bookshelves, filled with homey knickknacks and books, made the place look more like someone's grandmother's house than a coffee shop.

All the proper coffee-shop noises came from the barista working behind the counter, but Ava's eyes darted to the small display that held cookies, muffins and other pastries.

Her stomach growled, and she felt like she hadn't eaten in days. The crowd, not terribly heavy, was scattered around the numerous sitting areas with all ages of patrons. Some with computers or tablets, others visiting in soft voices.

Ava stepped behind Jason in line, adjusting her backpack. Every woman in the café took in the tall guy in the penguin suit, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.

Same difference.

Ava took a good look at her charge. Okay, so it was selfish, because she wanted to appreciate that fine—

Wait. What the Hades?

Ava stared harder at Jason. Rather, at Jason's aura. And the miniscule silvery-blue lines flickering in it.

So observant of the lines that shouldn't be there, she didn't realize Jason had actually moved.

Backwards.

Right toward her.

“Oh!” Ava stumbled.

“Oh hey.” Jason spun and in a flash had his arm on Ava's, and stopped her from tumbling to the floor.

Ava pulled out of Jason's grip. Because as soon as she looked in his eyes, telltale veins of Cupid's serum flashed. More than just the silvery-blue of his love potion. A second one wound around in minute detail. Like he'd used a double dose or something. One with a greenish hue.

Green…

Green!

“Son of a bitch,” she snapped.

As Hera is my witness, I will friggin' snap Cupid's neck.
There was only one answer for those kinds of hues in a mortal's aura. Not only had Cupid shot her charge with one of his freewill-bending arrows, he'd added a memory charm to the mix.

“Hey, look, I'm s-s-sorry. D-d-didn't know you were there,” Jason said.

Ava shook her head, and this time when she met her charge's eyes, recognition flashed.

Hard and fast. He didn't let go of her arm, and for every second of contact, the recognition got brighter and brighter.

And the green in his aura fizzled out. Ava's heart pounded like it would burst out of her chest like some parasite alien.

Because Jason recognized her, even in her downplayed getup.

“Ava,” Jason whispered. Then he tipped his head to the side. “Ava?”

She forced a smile on her face. “Hi.”

“Sorry, I-I didn't. Let me-me—let me buy your coffee,” Jason stammered. He shook his head, his teeth grinding.

Ava blinked. “Really, that's—”

“Girl, if a man in a tux wants to buy you a drink, do it!” a woman in her forties stage-whispered at Ava.

Ava blinked. Then glanced back at Jason. And tried not to think of the thousand reasons why she shouldn't be having coffee with her charge. Like the attraction that sprang to the surface in him. Or her own bursting attraction that she'd thought for sure she had a handle on.

“Yeah, uh. Okay,” she heard herself saying before she realized what had come out of her mouth.

Jason smiled, looking almost giddy as he led her to the counter. His hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the waiting barista.

“Iced coffee,” Ava said. “Whole milk and sweetener.”

“Have them right out,” the barista said, smiling. “You all can have a seat.”

Jason led Ava to a couple of overstuffed chairs, and she put down her backpack, situating herself.

From the neighboring table, the stage-whispering lady gossiped with her friend. “Did you see that? That's practically
Fifty Shades of Grey
, right there. College student, guy with money and a tux.”

“Be still my beating heart,” the friend said.

Ava felt a blush creeping over her cheeks.

“If I pull out handcuffs, do you think they'll freak out?” Jason asked.

Ava burst out laughing.

“Because I have some.”

“I think they'll freak more if you pull out a flogger.”

“Good point,” Jason said.

The barista came over and handed them their iced coffees. Ava had accepted hers and was about to take a sip when Jason stood.

“What's the matter?”

“Just finishing it off,” Jason said. He crossed to the self-serve bar and picked up several items.

Ava took that second to materialize the Cupid antidote in her hand, and after invoking a quick shield around herself—at least her magic worked like it was supposed to—she popped the lid and dumped it into Jason's cup.

She just managed to get the lid back on when Jason came back. He removed the lid to doctor his drink, but took a tiny sip first.

“You know, you can drink it plain. It is good that way,” Ava said.

“Says the girl with— Oh good God,” he muttered, and handed it back to her. “This is yours.”

Ava blinked.
Shit.

Not that it would hurt her—she was a fairy—and it wasn't like Cupid had hit her with any of his arrows.

Still…

She didn't drink excess fairy potions if she didn't have to.

Jason took her cup, dropped his own mix of sweeteners and creamers and whatever he'd gotten at the table in his own iced coffee.

Now how am I supposed to get him the antidote?

She picked up her cup and took a sip. The antidote was odorless and tasteless. If she hadn't seen herself pour it into the drink, she would have never known it was…

Magic surged through Ava. Hard magic.

Antidote magic.

Her stomach roiled as the antidote began to work.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked.

“I'm…I'm fine,” Ava said, shaking her head.

Jason arched his eyebrow. “You don't look fine.”

Ava ran her hand over her forehead, feeling a bit queasy. “I'm fine,” she said. The antidote worked on Cupid's magic—it was one of the Fairy Godmothers' best defenses against his horrible arrows.

The fact that it went to work inside her meant only one thing—Cupid had hit her with one of his arrows.

When and where, she had no idea.

But when she got her hands on him…

Jason sipped on his coffee while he studied her. “Seems like we had this conversation before.”

Ava waved her hand in the air. “Really, this will just take a second, and I'll be perfectly, perfectly fine.” She painted a smile on her face as the antidote's effects finally took hold. “Tell me what you're up to tonight.”

Jason glanced at his watch. “I have work tonight.”

“Your PI work?” Ava asked. With each breath, the serum did its work, and she felt better.

Well, aside from the fact that she was going to fucking
kill
Cupid the next time she saw him. Seriously, she was going to stab him in the fucking eye. With one of his own arrows.

Jason blinked. “How did you know that?”

“We talked about it before, on Saturday,” Ava said, finally deciding it was okay to have more coffee. This time, the antidote didn't affect her like before. She could still feel it, but it wasn't the hard, overwhelming
whoosh
of magic like initially.

He nodded. “Right.” He shook his head. “About that…Saturday.”

Ava raised her hand. “Don't worry about it.”

“I would have called you, but—”

“I didn't give you my number,” Ava said. “It's not a big thing. Really. Sweep it under the rug.”

“I don't want you thinking I'm that kind of asshole.”

She smiled. “I didn't. I had my own stuff going on. It's probably good you didn't call me.”

Understatement of the year, but hey…

He smiled as he sipped on his coffee. Then he glanced at his watch. “Actually, I have to go here in a minute, to follow a lead.”

“Oh, like a stakeout? Are you going to sit in your car and spy with binoculars?”

Jason smirked. “Possibly. And I might go in too.”

“Dressed like that?”

Jason glanced at himself. “Good point. What if I lose the tie?”

“Not enough.”

Ava reached across the table and took his hand. “Come on.”

Jason raised his eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me.”

Chapter Fifteen

The bathroom was small, tight, and didn't have room for what they were doing.

Holy shit,
Jason thought.

He couldn't take his eyes off Ava as she pulled off her big sweatshirt. As it rose, it revealed a bit of skin and the bottom of a tank top that hugged her stomach like a glove.

Jason felt his pants tighten as he stared at that tiny sliver of exposed skin. Was it as hot as the red dress she'd been wearing at the wedding? Yes. No. Maybe. Didn't matter. It was fucking hot as hell watching her undress.

And she didn't seem to care that he was looking, either. She shucked the sweatshirt, and the little tank left very little to the imagination, including her lack of bra.

“Here,” she said, pushing the sweatshirt into his hands.

“Uh.” He didn't know if the shirt would fit. And he couldn't quite take his eyes off her boobs.

“Over your shirt,” Ava said, grabbing his tux jacket.

Jason nodded, feeling like an idiot as he put it on. While he did, Ava slipped on his tux jacket and rolled up the sleeves.

“There, that's better,” she said. “Well, except for that.” She reached around his neck, and this time when Jason smelled her perfume, it about did him in. He made himself stand perfectly still as she undid the bow tie and adjusted his collar.

Her arms were around his neck. It wouldn't take anything to pull her against him, to feel her lips again. Those breasts crushed against his chest.

Shove her against the wall—take her right there in the coffee-shop bathroom.

Damn. This was how he was supposed to feel. He
should
feel overwhelmed with need. Want to jump her bones.

Her eyes met his, and for a second he wanted to act on those impulses.

Ava stumbled, and his hands wrapped around her, holding her up.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It's okay.”

And if he was going to kiss her, now was the—

She pulled out of his arms, the bow tie dangling from her fingers. She turned and glanced at herself in the mirror. The tux jacket's strong shoulders stuck out too far from hers, making her look like a mini-linebacker. It didn't matter that she probably towered close to six foot—or maybe it was her heels.

Had she had those on when they came in here?

She must have. She unfastened her hair and used the tie like a thin scarf, and fluffed her hair over it.

“Voilà,” she said, gesturing to the mirror.

They almost looked like a couple. The dark-gray sweatshirt played down his black pants, and his jacket dressed her up just a little more.

“Impressive,” Jason said. “Good thing you had that sweatshirt on.”

She shrugged. “I'm lucky like that.”

“Now, shall we go do your little stakeout thing?”

“Oh, you're coming along, are you?”

“Sure. I got nothing better to do. And you might need a cover.”

Jason put his hands on his hips. “I don't need a cover.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Listen, call it company, if you want. I'm sure binoculars and coffee gets really boring about 3:00 a.m.”

“That's usually when the fun begins.”

“So tell me why you don't need me to come.”

Jason stared. Her bright-green eyes, that red hair and the determination on her face.

Well, why didn't he need her to come?

She might have a point.

And maybe if she spent a little more time with him, he could figure out why he'd forgotten her so easily.

Because just looking at her now, he didn't think he could
ever
forget her.

“So, here we are, drinking coffee, and watching scuzzballs go in and out of a strip club,” Ava said, sucking hard on the straw in her iced coffee, making that horrible empty-drink sound.

“My life is awesome,” Jason replied.

“If that's what you think,” Ava replied, chewing on her straw. “Who are we looking for again?”

Jason tossed his tablet to her. “Samuel Miller. Owner of Stripers over on Broadway.”

“What would the owner of the best strip club in town be doing here, at Dollies, one of the crappiest?”

“That is the big question.” Jason had been wondering the same thing. The guy's wife was convinced he was sleeping with a dancer at Stripers. Why would he need to frequent another strip bar?

“And I see you have no answers,” Ava said.

Jason let out a sigh. “I know where they are.”

“So go get them.”

“I didn't want to leave you alone in the car.”

“Are you kidding? I'm your date,” Ava said. “I can play lovey-dovey really well.”

Jason glanced at her. “I bet.” That desire he'd had before had been slowly creeping up on him since she'd gotten in the car. Yet he'd kept his distance. So had she, for that matter.

Probably a good thing.

She hit him in the arm. “You know what I mean.”

Was it the light, or were her cheeks turning pink?

He hated to admit it, but she was probably right. He'd figured out real fast if Miller was still inside he wasn't coming out any time soon. Which meant that going in would have to be the answer.

He pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Let's go. Sooner we get in there, the sooner we can get out.” They both climbed out of the vehicle. The light from the dome jarred Jason for a second and he blinked a couple of times as he got out.

She came around the car, and he wrapped his arm around her.

“Uh…”

Jason whispered in her ear. “We're horny, looking to liven up our bedroom.” He nibbled the shell of her ear and felt her shudder in his arm. Yeah, it was cover.

That was his story, anyway.

Did he enjoy it?

Well, only when she let out this little moan as they walked to the door. Jason felt blood rushing away from his brain to his lower extremity.

Holy moly, this was going to be an interesting night.

A bouncer looked them both up and down and glanced at their IDs before letting them inside. And for a moment, Jason wondered if this was the right thing to do, going into the bar.

Maybe they should have stayed in the car.

God, I'm going to need a shower when I get home.

Or a decontamination.

The smell hit him first. Coconut oil meets sweat meets…ugh, he didn't want to know.
Vile
was the best he had to describe it.

And the scene wasn't much better. A bartender, with more metal in his face than in the creaking bar stools, shook his cocktails in—surprisingly—shiny-clean shakers that shimmered under the strobing light.

Waitresses wandered around in barely there bikinis, taking drink orders and dancing away from grabby customers. In the dark, the carpeted floor was hard to see, but Jason wasn't sure he'd want to anyway.

“Oh my,” Ava said. Ava clung to him, but he wondered if it was her acting the part or utter revulsion.

“I know.”

They eased inside, and Jason gestured to a booth in the corner. It had a good vantage point to see most of the bar, and a clear view. Most of the patrons sat closer to the very old and unkempt stage, the pulsing music intensified by hard, strobing lights as a dancer wound her way around a pole, shaking what God gave her.

“Um, do you see your guy?” Ava asked.

Jason shook his head. He stretched his arm around her, pulling her close. “So we can talk,” he said, practically in her ear.

Yeah, that was his story.

The only sweet smell in the bar was her.

She scanned around. “How can you see anything?”

“That's probably the point,” Jason replied. The lights pulsed and shook, making identifying anyone in the place harder than it needed to be.

The latest dancer had spotlights on her, though it seemed like she was trying to keep in the preprogrammed patterns with her dance moves. And wasn't doing well.

A waitress came over and rattled off the club's specials for the night. Jason ordered a soda while Ava ordered bourbon.

He raised his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well, something's gotta soften the blow.”

He smirked, wishing he had his own bourbon.

Because this could be a long night.