The Heat (3 page)

Lily had dreams about Daniel too. Only her dreams were
real
dreams; at night, in bed, behind the curtains of sleep. And they were strange. They were disquieting enough that she kept them mostly to herself. The only person she’d ever shared them with was Daniel’s sister Tabitha. Lily’s very best friend.

She remembered that day and that conversation quite clearly:

Lily’d had that same dream, in different variations, many times since that night. But she hadn’t mentioned it again. Mostly, she just smiled and agreed and laughed along when her friends mentioned Daniel Kane and his unlawful hotness. There were other boys the group talked about, of course. They had been teenage girls, after all. But it always came back to Daniel. He was just too perfect.

And in ten years, he’d only gotten better.
If only they could see me now
, Lily thought, smiling slyly. Daniel picked up speed on the Harley and the wind began to roar around them. Lily ducked her head and laid it against the back of his leather jacket.
I hope he doesn’t mind
, she thought. She couldn’t help herself. She sort of wished the helmet wasn't in between them. He felt so good against her. So strong. So s
afe
.

They rode in deafening silence for several more minutes, Daniel handling the road as if he truly had been riding forever. His expertise put Lily at ease and she found herself melting into him, though she still held tight.

Eventually, she realized that they were back on the main road that led to Tabitha’s house and a wave of disappointment washed over her. She squelched it, though, mentally reprimanding herself for having the hormones of an adolescent.

Tabitha came out the door and onto the back porch when they rode up and Lily put some distance between her chest and Daniel’s back, suddenly self conscious.

When he finally shut the bike off and kicked the stand down, Lily immediately pulled off her helmet and began to climb off of the bike. In front of her, Daniel reached back, quick as lightning and grabbed hold of her wrist.

Lily stopped sliding off and looked up at him. His action had been so fast, she’d barely seen him move. He held her tight, his fingers firmly wrapped around her slim wrist.

She had to admit that his touch gave her a strange sort of thrill. The heat from his hand snaked up her arm and seemed to wrap around her chest, making it hard to breathe. But he’d grabbed her so fast and his grip was so firm.… She held her breath and stared at him questioningly.

Almost as swiftly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go. He paused a moment, as if collecting himself, before he softly spoke. “Be careful you don’t touch the pipes with your legs, cher.” His stark blue gaze seemed to lock her in. “They’re hot.”

“Oh,” she stammered. “R-right. Thanks.” She nodded, realizing that he’d only wanted to prevent her from harming herself. She was an idiot. Why was she letting him get to her like this? She wasn’t eighteen!
Snap out of it,
she told herself.

She continued to slide the rest of the way off of the bike and then pulled her dress back into place. Tabitha was there beside her in a heartbeat. “Have a good time?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Lily turned to her and wondered at her friend’s strange behavior. She also hoped that the darkness of night at least partially hid her blush, because though there was no real reason for it, she felt slightly guilty. “It was wonderful,” she said softly. Then she turned back to Daniel and added, “Thanks for the ride, Daniel. It was just what I needed.”

Daniel Kane said nothing for what seemed like a long time. And then he nodded once at Lily, offering her a knowing smile. “Any time, cher. It’s my pleasure.”

He then let his gaze slide to his sister. “I’ll be off now, little sis. But you and I got some catchin’ up to do.” He let this sink in, his gaze hard, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be in touch.” With that, he took the helmet that Lily handed him and slid it onto his head. He latched it beneath his chin, nodded once more to them both, and then started up the motorcycle.

Tabitha and Lily stood side by side as Daniel roared out of the lot and disappeared into the night. Then Tabitha whirled on Lily. “Girl, tell me he didn’t try nothin’ on you.”

Lily blinked at her friend. “What?” She looked at her incredulously. “Tabby, we didn’t even stop! We just rode! He was a perfect gentleman and a very good rider.”

Tabitha eyed her for a moment more and then blew out a sigh.

Lily sighed as well. “Okay, what’s going on? Don’t think I didn’t notice the warning look you shot him before I got on the bike. I see people pull all kinds of body language with each other in my line of work. What is it you’ve got against your brother having anything to do with me?”

It was Tabitha’s turn to look shocked. But then her shock melted into guilt and she threw up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. I just know what a damned man whore that boy is and I don’t want him to do somethin’ to you that comes between us. That’s all.”

Lily eyed her warily. There was something in the depths of Tabitha’s hazel eyes that looked suspiciously like a secret. She didn’t want to let the subject drop, but she could tell Tabitha wouldn’t talk about it any further. Not tonight.

“Fine,” Lily let it go. For now. “I understand.” A wind picked up and rustled the Spanish moss dangling from the oaks overhead. She hugged herself, feeling unusually cold. “Let’s head inside and I’ll make us some tea.” She turned to lead the way back to the porch door. “I think a storm’s coming.”

“I think so, too,” Tabitha agreed.

As Lily entered the house, she glanced back to find her friend looking over her shoulder toward the dark road where Daniel had disappeared. She gazed down that ribbon of black as if expecting the very devil to come walking back down it.

C
hapter Three: By The Book

Lily rolled over quietly and peered out the window. The storm had come and gone, as Louisiana storms were want to do in early June. This time of year the gales were quick and dirty and green with heat lightning. They lit up the sky like electric temper tantrums, dumped a million gallons of water on the bayou and then ran away, sated and silent, leaving a sticky, humid swamp buzzing in their wake.

Now, the moon was three-quarters full and illuminated the rolling grass lawn of Tabitha’s house with a blue glow. If Lily concentrated and squinted her eyes, she could just make out the on and off flashing of a few, precious lightning bugs – or, fireflies – within the darkness of the hedges that bordered Tabitha’s land. There weren’t as many as there used to be, it seemed. Their population was changing, along with everything else in the South.

Lily sighed. She couldn’t sleep. She’d been laying there for hours, her body unnaturally hot and then cold, her nerve endings so alive that she’d kicked off all of the covers long ago. She’d been thinking about her return to Baton Rouge.

A lot can happen in a short period of time – and Lily had been gone for a rather
long
period of time. Within that decade-long spell, the towers had come down in New York, a war had been started, and a hurricane had ripped through Louisiana, forever changing the face of a state once known only for its Zydeco and Crawfish, its gospel hymns and Boudin.

Lily thought back to her discussion with Tabitha earlier that night as she gazed out at the heated mist now rising from the cut grass and forming dew. She had to admit that, though she was glad to be back in the lap of liberal Southern kindness, she was just as bowled over by the changes as she was grateful for what had stayed the same.

There used to be a playhouse on College Drive where Lily and her friends paid $15 a piece every Friday night to watch really good and really poor actors and actresses perform drama by Mark Twain and Shakespeare. The playhouse had been situated in a strip mall that also contained a twenty-four hour café where LSU students stayed up all night eating beignets and drinking dark-brewed Louisiana coffee as they studied for upcoming finals. It had smelled like heaven.

The mall and its beignets and coffee and fifteen-dollar plays was gone now. In its place stood a Wal-Mart.

There were things in the city that seemed to have been untouched by time. A small secondhand store off of Burbank still stood in the same location that it had stood in for more than twenty years.
Here Today Gone Tomorrow
was where Lily had purchased all of her clothes while she’d been in high school. She remembered when it had dirt floors. And it was still there.

Highland Park looked virtually the same as it had a decade before.

Her parents’ apartment on GSRI was still standing, and it was still painted pink. Her parents were long gone, having moved to Oregon five years ago. But the apartment was still there.

But so much had changed, and change was hard. There was comfort in recognition. In repetition. It was good for the soul to know that some things would never go away. When it turned out that they would go away after all, the soul had to adjust. And adjusting one’s soul was a little like learning how to swim by jumping into the deep end. The simple act of keeping your head above water was painful. And, at times, it was just plain hard to breathe.

Again, Lily sighed. Not for the first time since her return, she wondered whether she was making the right move. She wasn’t a weak woman. She was raised by good parents. They loved each other, and their daughter, deeply. They knew the difference between right and wrong. And they’d instilled this knowledge – and the need to fight for it – within their little girl. Lily was one of those extremely rare, extremely lucky individuals whose parents encouraged bravery, but offered comfort when things didn’t go as planned.

Lily wanted to help the people in her hometown when they needed help the most. From what she’d seen in the last few days, that time was now. Baton Rouge was inflating beyond its capacity, like a balloon threatening to pop. And Lily didn’t want its people to detonate right along with it.

Lily blinked, realizing that she’d been staring at the same spot for several long minutes and that her eyes were burning. Then she sat up, grabbing the hardback book that was on the bedside table. Barefoot, she tiptoed to the door of the guest room and then quietly opened it. At one point, it creaked a little and she paused. When she heard no sounds coming from Tabitha’s room, she opened it the rest of the way and stepped out into the hall.

She managed to make it to the stairs and then down to the first floor without any more creaks. When she was in the living room, she stole the throw off of the rocking chair and sat down on the plush couch, wrapping the fleece tightly around herself. Then she stared down at the cover of the book she’d set down beside herself.

Intense green eyes gazed out at her from a black background. She knew whose eyes they were. They belonged to the man on the back cover – the author of the book, Malcolm Cole. He was an unbelievably handsome man. His hair was thick and dark brown and nearly as long as Daniel’s….

Daniel….

Tabitha’s big brother had been haunting her all night. She shook her head to clear it. She concentrated on the book again. Cole’s eyes were so emerald green that they almost seemed to glow. Lily had never seen another person with eyes like that. They were nearly unnatural. Maybe contacts? She doubted it. They seemed to fit in with the rest of him too well.

He wrote mysteries and he was so good that Lily’d been hooked for years. She wasn’t the only one; he had a following that had made him a very wealthy and famous man. Once Lily started reading one of his books, she had a very hard time putting it down. There was something about the way he seemed to get into his characters’ heads. Especially the bad guys. He knew them inside and out; their thinking processes, their desires…. It was like he was there beside them, watching them as they progressed through their iniquitous acts, one evil step at a time.

Sometimes, when Lily was reading, she could imagine that she heard Cole’s voice whispering the tale into her ear. She’d heard his voice once on an interview; he sounded like Rupert Everett. A British bad boy, wicked and delicious.

She even dreamed about him. In fact, there were only two people in the world that Lily dreamed of over and over again. One was Daniel Kane. The other was Malcolm Cole.

Lily reached out and turned the book over, gazing down at the impossibly gorgeous man on the back cover. “Hey, good looking,” she muttered softly. He seemed to smile back at her. But there was something a little strange to his smile. It was…. Machiavellian. Like there was a secret he was keeping from the world and it amused him.