and forced herself to return to the cafe.
“You look like that visit barely registered on your stress meter, but mine is off the charts. Nothing pulls me out of the dumps like chocolate, so I figured you might want some,” she said with a sheepish smile as she set the cake on a nearby table. Glancing through the beads at the nosy crowd, she sighed, then sat opposite the plate and waited.
“Why’s it empty in here?” he asked, his voice as surly as his scowl. But hey, words were words. Who was she to quibble over tone?
“The cafe closes at two. We still have shoppers in the store, but Fifi is helping them. People know we’re closed. They won’t come back here,” she assured him. “It’s not much, but at least it’s a tiny semblance of privacy.”
He gave her a look, those gold eyes dark. She could see the anger in them now, as clearly as she could see it in the set of his chin and his clenched fists. But now she could see hurt, too, in the way he hunched his shoulders, the droop of his lips.
“I guess this isn’t a surprise visit for the holidays,” she said with a tentative smile, wishing he’d smile again.
“Prodigal son, didn’t Tobias say?”
“You call your father by his name?” Why was she so shocked? It wasn’t as if he was the kind of guy to call his old man daddy.
He shrugged, staring at the door to the alley. Finally, he came over and sat across from her. She didn’t know if it was because she’d worn him down with her inane chatter or if he was emotionally exhausted from the confrontation. It definitely wasn’t because he was suddenly in the mood to be friendly. Not the way he was glowering. The frown didn’t detract from his mouth.
A deliciously sensual mouth, she noticed. She licked her own lips, wondering what he tasted like. How he kissed. Whether he was slow and sensual or if he liked it wild and intense.
“You interested in providing a little prodigal entertainment?”
“Hmm?”
She’d bet he was a wild kind of guy. One who’d take her mouth in a hard, mind-blowing kiss and leave her begging for a taste of his promised sexual nirvana.
“Yeah, you’re interested.”
Pandora ripped her gaze off his mouth to meet his eyes in horror. Was she that obvious? Was she so unskilled that she couldn’t even hide her should-be-secret lusty thoughts?
What the hell was she doing? The man was off-limits. He was bad news, with a capital H heartbreak. And while she was intrigued enough to risk her heart, she still had the bruises from risking her reputation and ego.
“No, sorry. I’m not interested, I’m just curious.”
“Curious?” His smile was pure temptation. Wicked and knowing. He didn’t push, though. Instead, he cocked a brow at the slice of cake she’d set on the table between them, then pulled it toward him. He pressed his finger on a crumb and lifted it to his mouth.
Pandora swore her thighs melted. Heat, intense and needy, clawed through her good intentions.
PUZZLED, CALEB STUDIED the woman in front of him.
He’d got what he wanted out of this visit-to see the back room and access to the bike shop. Her interest would be easy to use to get back in, anytime he wanted.
But could he do it?
Seated at the table like a dainty lady about to serve some fancy-ass tea, Pandora looked as calm as a placid lake. Except for those occasional flashes of hunger he saw in her pretty eyes. With her smooth, dark red hair and porcelain complexion, she looked like the special china doll his sister had as a kid. If he remembered correctly, he’d broken that doll at one point or another.
Something to keep in mind.
He noted the lush fullness of her lips and the sweet curve of her breasts beneath the white silky fabric of her conservatively cut blouse. His body stirred in reluctant interest. Good girls weren’t his thing, but his body wasn’t paying much attention to that detail.
“Were you going to try the cake?” Pandora prodded, looking a little put out at his inspection. She sounded as if she wanted to say something-probably something rude-but good girls didn’t do things like that.
He grinned. Yet another reason not to be good.
He had questions, so more to pacify her than because he wanted any, he swiped his finger over the frosted cake and sucked the sweet confection while holding her gaze.
Her eyes narrowed. He imagined she was trying to look stern, but came off as cute instead. Her store location was handy, she probably had an inside track to the town and townspeople, and she looked as if she was one of those crazy trust-until-proved-untrustworthy kind of people.
A much better cover than the loosey-goosey vamp who’d hit on him before. She was going to be easier to, well, manipulate.
“I remember this store now,” he mused as he looked, noting the deep purple walls with garlands of flowers, stars, suns and moons painted along the ceiling. “I broke in here one night on a dare, hoping to see a rumored seance. It wasn’t a restaurant then, though.”
“Broke in? I always heard that you were wild, but I thought those rumors were exaggerated.”
He just shrugged. It wasn’t as though it was a secret that he’d been well on his way to a life of crime in his teen years. Hell, he considered it early training for his undercover assignments.
The frosting was good. Ready for more, he took the fork and scooped up a big bite.
“This room used to be set up for classes and readings,” she explained, still frowning at him in a chiding sort of way. “My mother started using it for storage when the mayor changed the permit requirements to demand a twenty percent kick-back.”
Caleb snorted. He’d grown up the son of an infamous con artist and spent his adult years dealing with criminal dregs. But he was pretty sure politics were the biggest scam around.
“Gotta hand it to her. The mayor’s big on clever ways to line the town coffers.”
She gave him a narrow-eyed look at odds with his sweet, goody-goody image of her. “Isn’t Mayor Parker your aunt?”
Realizing he was starving, he forked up more of the rich cake and grinned. “Yep.”
“So this is like old home week. Will you be staying with your aunt instead of your father?”
“Nope. I’m at the Black Oak Inn. Room seventeen, if you’re out wandering later,” he said with a wink.
Her eyes rounded. She caught her breath as if grabbing back a response that scared her. The move made her cotton top slide temptingly over rounded breasts. He watched as her nipples beaded against the fabric. Suddenly starving, he wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and taste her.
Her reaction was gratifying. His own irritated him, though. She wasn’t his type, and given the situation, she was off-limits. He just had to remember that.
“I’m sure I’ll see her, though. Want me to talk her into dropping those fees for you?” he offered with another wink.
“I don’t do readings.”
That sounded bitter. His chewing slowed; he gave her a searching look.
She gave a tiny shrug and looked away.
Off-limits? A part of him wanted to push. To ask questions and get to know her better. The rest of him, the burned-out, disenchanted, cynical DEA-trained part of him, said that unless it pertained to the case, it didn’t matter.
Since he wasn’t sticking around longer than it took to clear his old man, the cynic got to call the shots.
“So what’s the deal?” Caleb asked instead. “You seem to know Tobias pretty well, right?”
“I wouldn’t say I know your father well,” she mused, her eyes skimming toward the alley. “No more so than anyone else in town. I mean, he’s the patriarch, isn’t he? From what I understand, he’s got more power than the mayor and the sheriff combined. People look up to him, turn to him for advice. I’ve been hearing accolades since the day I arrived.”
“You’re not a native of Black Oak?” Why had he thought she was?
“I am native,” she said, drawing the words out. “I think I was even in a few classes with your sister, Maya. But
