Lights Out (2 page)

“Okay, I’ll try the coffee version.”

“Would you like the vanilla or another flavoring—the vanilla can be sugar free?”

“Vanilla will work, I think,” she said, twirling her hair around her fingers.

Piper, a smile in place, rang up her order. “Thank you,” she said and watched the woman move off to wait for her drink. She smiled at her next customer, another regular. Two shots, iced coffee, room for cream. She was back in her groove.

* * *

Joe checked his BlackBerry, mind still at the counter with her, surprised and interested. She’d caught him off-guard. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened to him. He chuckled again, eyes roaming over his list of things to do today.

He’d watched her as he’d waited his turn. She’d been part drill sergeant and part tease. He took another sip from his cup, watching as she’d smoothly moved the girl who’d hadn’t known what she wanted forward in line. Inwardly, he smiled at her efficiency before going back to his review of e-mails.

“Here you go,” she said, a few minutes later, setting his bagel on the table in front of him. She stood near his shoulder, her smile sexy, hands on very curvy hips, long legs encased in low-riding skinny jeans. He loved low-riding jeans on women. The jeans were tucked into black Ropers.

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes finding hers, looking up into her face, roaming over her features—golden brown skin, soft brown eyes, full lips. He loved her hair, soft, curly, and everywhere. His eyes traveled downward, taking in the Lights Out logo on her shirt that covered the two chirpy breasts from earlier. He liked those two tremendously.

“So, Middleweight, is this your first time here?” Her words brought his attention back to her face.

“Middleweight?”

“You get the boxing theme, right?” she asked, her eyes moving around the shop, hands doing that Vanna White thing.

“Yep.”

“I know the sport a little. What’s your weight?”

“Why?”

“Your weight?” she asked again, her head tilted to the side, her hands went to her hips, all sass and strength, her smile put upon..

“About 160 pounds.”

She looked him over, walked around his chair, head still tilted to the side, assessing.

“You’re what, about six feet?”

“Yes.”

“If you were a boxer, middleweight would be your fighting class,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so,” she said mimicking him, continuing to walk around his chair, giving him the once-over, same sass, eyes twinkling now.

“You fight a lot?” he asked.

“It depends on what kind of fighting you’re talking about,” she said, moving her eyebrows up and down. He laughed.

“I’m more of the soccer kind of guy,” he said, smiling.

She nodded. “But you could really work some boxers, and not the human kind, either. I bet they’re killer on you,” she said, looking him over again, before she smiled and then laughed.

He joined in. “We could see for ourselves if you wanted too,” he said. His eyes turned smoky.

“Maybe. Without boxers has its possibilities, too,” she said, clearly enjoying herself.

“You and your mouth,” he said.

“What about it,” she said, slowly, drawing out the words, as she leaned over him.

She has this vixen thing down pat, he thought. “Is this you all the time?” he asked.

“What? Charming, sexy, sharp of wit and quick of tongue?”

He laughed again.

“Yes, it’s me, most times. Here, anyway,” she said, smiling again, stepping away from him. He chuckled, eyes changing again.

“Cut it out,” she said.

“Cut what out?”

“Smoldering,” she said, pointing to his eyes.

He laughed outright at that. “Smoldering, huh?”

“So back to my original question. Is this your first time here?” she asked.

“Nope, stopped by yesterday, but you weren’t here. I would have remembered,” he said.

“I’m here every other day,” she replied, in case he was interested.

He nodded.

“My line is backing up, and we can’t have that,” she said, looking toward her counter. “Nice meeting you, Middleweight. Hope to see you again,” she said, suddenly shy now.

He was surprised to see it there concealed beneath her words, visible for just a second. She turned and headed back over to the counter.

Really, really nice body, he thought. The back view matched its front—her ass was round, curvy, and firm in those low-riding jeans. He watched as she made her way back to the counter, stopping to pick up a discarded coffee cup from a now-vacant table.

* * *

Second week in May

It was late evening. Joe pulled up to the front of a yellow two-story home and parked. Home Away From Home, an after-school and summer care program, started two years ago by Reye Jackson—correction, Reye Stuart now. Why was that so hard to remember?

He was pushing it, behind schedule again. He’d gotten tied up with a customer and was running late to pick up Shane, his nephew. He’d been running late a lot more lately, the result of changes at work earlier this year, a more demanding assignment, and much larger territory. He was still working on how to manage it, along with Shane’s schedule.

Shane rushed through the front door, backpack thrown over his shoulder, followed by Reye, who walked up and stood behind Shane. Both were in front of him now, both with smiles on their lips.

“Uncle Joe, Reye and I been working on my shooting. Maybe I can play forward this year for the team,” he said.

“Hey, Joe. He’s getting to be quite the soccer player,” she said, ruffling Shane’s hair, before looking at Joe again and smiling.

“He and I have been working at it, too, when we have time. Less so since this new promotion. Sorry I ran late,” Joe said, smiling his apology.

“No worries. Did any of those names I gave you work as a back-up plan?” she asked.

“Nope. Called all of them. Most wanted more hours. I just need someone to pick up Shane from school, take him home, make sure he gets his homework, and eats dinner. I’ll keep looking,” he said.

“Let me know if I can help,” she said, her phone ringing. “Let me catch this,” she said, giving Joe a smile. “Bye, you guys. See you tomorrow, Shane.”

“You ready?” Joe asked, looking down at his nephew.

“Been ready, stay ready, born ready,” he said, smiling at his uncle. “I’m hungry,” he added, walking down the sidewalk to the car.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Tacos,” he said.

“Sounds good, buddy. We’ll pick up something on the way home,” Joe said, getting in the car, putting on his seat belt, and waiting for Shane to do the same.

“What did you guys do today?” he asked, pulling away from the curb.

Joe listened as Shane talked, pulling into the drive thru line at the Taco Café, home to their favorite soft tacos, marveling at how far Shane had come since his mother’s disappearance almost two years ago.

Joe had sought and gotten temporary custody of Shane, enrolled him in a small private school, and purchased a home for the two of them in the vicinity of the school. He hoped Shane felt loved and safe. He did his best. He’d been giving thought to making the custody arrangement permanent, but that could create a whole new set of problems, maybe even bring Meghan, Joe’s sister and Shane’s mother, back into their lives. He’d recently hired a family lawyer after getting the referral from Stephen, Reye’s husband. Joe had met with him once, but hadn’t gone back.

Shane had settled in well, better than he’d hoped. In the last two years Shane had grown into this confident and carefree child. Joe was very pleased with the transformation; he knew firsthand the havoc that came from the dissolution of one’s family. He would do everything within his power to make sure Shane would have a better life.

* * *

First week in June

Two weeks later Joe stood in line at Lights Out Coffee; he was a regular now, waiting his turn at her mouth. He inwardly smiled at how odd and X-rated that sounded to him, but he liked her sharp wit and sexy banter. And he liked the coffee here, too. He knew she worked today. He had figured out her schedule, and made a point to stop by when she was on duty, either picking up his coffee to go or ordering a bagel to eat while he worked.

“Another large coffee, black, for Middleweight,” she called out to Estelle, her smile and eyes teasing.

“Bagel this morning?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, smiling.

She leaned in close and whispered loudly into his ear for the early morning crowd. “Doesn’t the missionary position get a little old?” she asked. He slowly turned his head to face her, surprised that she could surprise him still.

She pulled back. “Bagel always on the bottom, cream cheese always on top. Every day, the same thing,” she said, loudly, for the regulars. Most knew of the bantering between her and Joe. She teased everyone, but with him, it seemed different, like she was serious about the sexual part. He was beginning to hope so, anyway.

He grinned. “I don’t want to scare you away with too many changes,” he said. “For some I have to keep it easy. I’m not sure you’re up for all that I bring.”

One of the regulars behind him laughed, a few others snickered, and one woman fanned her face.

“You’re all that, huh?” she said, captivated.

“And then some,” he said, loudly, causing the male regulars behind him to hoot, his eyes still locked with hers.

“Whew,” she said, laughing now as she set his coffee on the counter, fanning herself too. She and the woman in line smiled at each other in mutual understanding. He laughed at that and so did she. Was he serious? she asked herself, taking his money from him.

“You handle yourself very well,” she said.

“A better question is, can you?” he asked, invitation in his eyes.

Was he for real, she wondered again, and what if he was?

“I’m sure I can,” she said, handing over his cup of coffee. “I’ll bring your bagel over to you.”

“Thanks,” he said, handing her cash. “You can put the change in the jar,” he added before turning away. She watched him walk to his customary chair in the booth near the front window and pull out his laptop.

* * *

“What kind of work do you do?” she said, standing next to his booth five minutes later. He hadn’t looked up at her approach, his head bent over his laptop.

“IT, computer stuff. I’m in the division that supports most of the systems for Ryder Corp.”

“Interesting,” she said, but her voice indicated otherwise. He chuckled.

“Joe?”

Piper and Joe looked up, looking for the person who’d called his name, and found a very attractive woman walking toward Joe’s booth. She wore a cute, flirty dress in a nice muted red, matching shoes, and her red hair flowed down her back. She looked polished and professional.

“Sondra,” he said, smiling at the woman while Piper watched the woman’s face brighten as she exchanged greetings with Joe. Piper noted the familiarity and recognition of what was between them in the woman’s eyes.

“You working?” Sondra asked, eyes only for Joe.

“A little.”

“Let me get my coffee,” she said, glancing at Piper with expectation in her gaze.

“You have to go to the counter to order,” Piper said, sugary sweetness personified, her head tilted to the side, fake smile in place. What was up with her? She didn’t do “this,” whatever “this” was—marking territory that she didn’t own. She turned to find Joe’s eyes on her, laughter in them, like he knew what her problem was.

“Sondra, this is…” he said, continuing to look at Piper.

“Piper,” she offered.

“Hi,” Sondra said, but clearly wasn’t interested. She quickly dismissed Piper and moved back to Joe.

Pout those lips, girlfriend, Piper thought uncharitably.

“I’ll just be a second,” Sondra said to Joe before turning away, her cute, perky butt swinging from side to side as she made her way to the counter.

Piper watched her leave, irritated that she had been made to feel like the help; which she was, but still. She shook her head and turned to find Joe’s eyes on her.

“Piper, huh.”

“Joe, huh.”

“Joe Sandborne,” he said, sitting back in his booth now, watching her. She had no idea what he was thinking.

“Piper Knight,” she replied.

“Interesting name.”

She shrugged. “I yam what I yam,” she said, and he chuckled. “Duty calls,” she added, reluctant to leave his side. She liked their sparring, and was disconcerted by Sondra’s arrival. Why was that, she’d like to know.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

“Sure,” he said, watching her as she turned and headed back to her counter. She was interested, and he suspected it had been underneath her bantering from the beginning. She teased others, but with him it had felt like more; lucky her, he was with her on that.