Wicked Nights (28 page)

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Blaze story.

You like it hot!
Harlequin Blaze
stories sizzle with strong, heroines and irresistible heroes playing the game

of modern love and lust. They’re fun, sexy and always steamy.

Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Blaze every month!

Connect with us on
Harlequin.com
for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online

reads and much more!

Other ways to keep in touch:

Harlequin.com/newsletters

Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

HarlequinBlog.com

1

“CHRIS! I’M HERE. I’m calling from your apartment!” Eva dumped her bags in Chris’s tiny foyer,

which wasn’t really more than the beginning of a narrow hallway. She’d visited her sister only once in New

York, shortly after Chris moved here. Generally they saw each other in Wisconsin when they got together

with their parents for the holidays.

“Let me guess. It’s much bigger than you remember.” Chris’s voice dripped sarcasm.

“Uh...not really.” Eva peeked around a corner toward the kitchen, the size of her closet, and the living

room, which struggled to contain a chair, love seat and coffee table. “But it’s got so much charm!”

“Oh, is that charm? I thought charm was your house, with the plants and flowers growing everywhere

and the ocean smell outside. Try and see how charming my place is in February when it’s dark and freezing

for weeks on end. I can actually run from one end of your place to another. Run! It’s a real house!”

“A tiny house. Which you have to take care of.” She hoisted her bags again, phone between her chin

and ear, and marched down the hall, then pushed open the first door. “Your bedroom is adorable.”

“You can barely turn around—you call that adorable? I can do jumping jacks in yours! I can see an

expanse of floor! And then I can take a dozen steps and be
outside!
And to the
beach
in five minutes! No

elevator, no sirens, no taxis, no—”

“Concerts or museums, no theater, no—”

“Traffic jams, no hurricanes, no impatient rude people—”

“No excitement! No energy!”

“No Ames!”

“Huh?” Eva hauled her suitcase onto the twin bed. “Who’s Ames?”

Chris made a noise of exasperation. “A regular at NYEspresso. Also an arrogant pain in the ass who

doesn’t seem to hear me when I tell him I’m not interested. He’s this complete rich-boy spoiled brat who’s

never heard ‘no’ in his life.”

Eva chuckled. Men came after Chris pretty regularly. All she had to do was green-light the ones she

wanted and ta-da, she had a boyfriend. Eva’s quirks meant it was usually the other way around for her—

she’d see someone and go after
him.
So far neither approach had worked long-term for the sisters, but they

were happy to keep trying. “I’ll tell him you’ve eloped. Maybe he’ll fling himself off a building.”

“Please encourage him.”

“You’ll have to deal with surfer dudes and lost tourists and retired hippies who order a cup of coffee

and stay for hours thinking you have nothing better to do than chat. Which, sadly, you often don’t. Though

Zac will be there most days and he’s awesome.”

“So you’ve said. Though I still think your arrangement is weird. Who agrees to get married when they

hit thirty only if nothing else works out?”

“We did.” She didn’t expect Chris to understand. Eva had begun to realize that while love affairs were a

fabulous, fireworks-filled pleasure, when it came to choosing a life partner and future father of her

children, she wasn’t going to get much better than her best male friend, Zac, master’s candidate at Cal Poly

and regular at Slow Pour. It was precisely because they didn’t burn so hot that she knew he’d be a good

solid match, one that actually lasted.

But they still had a year and a half before that commitment. And as much as she adored Zac and he

adored her, neither of them had yet given up hope they could find another soul mate they could also be

frantic to tangle up the sheets with.

“At NYEspresso you’ll have to deal with people screaming at you because you aren’t moving fast

enough or the line isn’t moving fast enough. People act as if you’re put on the planet only to serve them.”

“I look forward to the challenge.”

Chris giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

“What, turning our hometowns into horrific stereotypes?”

“Well, yes, but I meant switching lives. Are you heading over to NYEspresso tonight?”

“Uh-huh.” Eva couldn’t wait to be in the place, knowing it was hers, however temporarily. “I think I can

just make it over there before closing.”

Chris snorted. “Yeah, figure how much time you’ll need realistically, then add half an hour for delays

and waiting and crowds and—”

“At least I get to
go
somewhere.” At home her commute was down the hill and around a corner. Not a

lot of sights to take in. “I want to meet your staff, make sure they’re ready to have me take over for a

month.”

“They’ll be thrilled. I’ve been such a bitch lately.”

“You?” Eva scoffed. “Never!”

“Uh-huh. You take care, twin.”

“You, too.” Eva hung up the phone, bursting with excitement. Traffic and street noise reached her

window. Civilization actually happened here—this was real life! She couldn’t wait to get started. But first,

deep breaths, a little meditation to get the nerves under control, calm her down so she didn’t appear too

frazzled when she met her crew at NYEspresso.

She sat cross-legged on the scuffed hardwood floor and closed her eyes, loosened her consciousness

from her surroundings, swaying slightly to keep herself off balance, clearing her mind, trying to connect to

the wise voice deep inside her that never failed to—

The apartment door burst open, making her jump. Must be Chris’s roommate, new since Eva had last

visited. Natalie worked near NYEspresso and had mentioned to Chris one day that she needed a roommate.

According to Chris, Natalie was either trying to get into bed with a guy or getting kicked out of bed by a

guy in one of the most misguided searches for love Chris had ever seen, but she was good-hearted—once

she got to know you.

Eva was totally curious to meet her.

“Yeah? Well, screw
you,
Edward.” Heels clunked furiously down the hallway. “Yeah? You really think

that? Dream on, buddy, and guess what, you
suck
in bed.”

Uh. That was not a person connected to her wise inner voice.

“No, let me tell
you,
you son-of-a— Oh. Hi.” She stopped outside Eva’s doorway, nearly six feet of

stunning brunette, who probably weighed less than Eva, all of five-four. “I’ll call you back, Edward. No?

Well, fine. I won’t. Ever. Up yours.”

“Hi.” Eva was having a hard time not giggling. Not that no one ever got pissed in Carmia, but that tirade

seemed so New York to her.

“You’re Chris’s sister.” Natalie looked Eva over curiously, taking in the turquoise ballet flats and tiered

floral skirt, up to her colorful layers of loose-fitting tops, multiple ear piercings and assortment of butterfly

clips in her hair. “She wasn’t kidding. You’re her total opposite.”

“Close to it.” Eva sat as tall as possible, looking Natalie over right back, from her black ankle boots over

crimson leggings and black microskirt under a stylish wrapped coat with big leather fastenings, then to top

it off, a wide-brimmed black hat. The epitome of fashion chic. She and Chris must turn every head in New

York when they went out together.

“You meditating or something?”

“Yes.” Eva smiled. “It keeps me centered and calm. You might want to—”

“Uh-huh.” Natalie didn’t smile back. “My stuff in the refrigerator is marked, and I need the bathroom

from five to six a.m. every morning.”

“Not a problem.” Eva bunched her mouth to keep from smirking.
Nice to meet you, too.
“So you work

for an interior design place?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She said it as if it was the most boring job in the world. “I guess.”

“How’s that?”

“It’s okay.” She glanced at her watch, obviously anxious to move on.

Perversely, this made Eva want to keep her talking. “How long have you lived in New York?”

“Forever.”

“Your parents, too? What did they do here?”

Her demeanor thawed a tiny bit. “Mom was a Broadway chorister. Dad is a music professor at Juilliard.”

“Wow! Cool family. Are you musical?”

Natalie leaned against the doorjamb, though her body stayed stiff. “I played clarinet for a bunch of years

and took dance lessons. Had a few parts in school plays and musicals, nothing big. I still love going to

shows. I probably saw all of them growing up.”

“That’s great.” Eva studied her new roommate, wondering how much further she could pry. “So I’m

sorry about the awkward conversation with Edward.”

“He’s a jerk. They’re all jerks.” Natalie shoved away from the door. “I gotta go get ready. I have a date.”

“Oh.” Eva frowned in confusion. “Not with Edward...”

Natalie gave her a withering stare. “As. If.”

“Ah. Well, okay, then.” Eva waved cheerfully. “Have fun with whoever.”

Natalie stalked off.

Eva was pretty sure they’d never be best friends.

And it was a little hard to continue her meditation with her new not-best-friend crashing and muttering

around the apartment, but Eva did the best she could. At least when she stood again, she felt more centered,

less scattered, though still eager to get to NYEspresso.

Just under an hour later, Eva was standing outside her sister’s shop on Tenth Avenue and West Forty-

Third Street in the up-and-coming neighborhood of Hudson Yards. Yes, she’d misjudged how long it took

to get there, but the store didn’t close for an hour yet, and what a smorgasbord of faces and auras and

interactions to keep her entertained during the walk and subway rides!

Around her was a population in suits, jeans and office casual, mostly denim and black, practically

everyone in dark shades, and her in her wild flowery skirt and magenta hoodie. Not that anyone gave her a

second glance. You could get away with pretty much any look in this town.

She pushed open the front door and was immediately hit by her favorite smell in the world—second

only to the aroma of roasting beans—freshly brewed coffee.

NYEspresso was different than she remembered, though it had been over a year since she’d visited.

Chris had obviously put her own stamp on the place after buying it from the previous owners with the

money she and Eva had come into at age twenty-five from wealthy grandparents on their mom’s side. The

space was sparer than it had been, more efficiently organized, with snappy clear plastic seats and bright

white oval tables with chrome supports. The counter was also bright white, a long, sharp rectangle with

ordering and cashier service at the far end and pastry behind a glass case closer to the entrance. The walls

had been painted deep red and left bare except for white glass sconces surrounded by black iron cages that

looked like chain mail.

Chic. Edgy. Not the most relaxing space. But this wasn’t Carmia, this was Manhattan.

Eva approached the counter with a smile, held out her hand to the barista on duty, a handsome kid with

three eyebrow rings and a necklace tattoo, whom she vaguely remembered had a weird nickname. “Hey,

there. I’m Eva. Chris’s sister.”

“Yeah, hey. How are you?” Only with his thick New York accent it sounded like
Ha-
wa
-ya?
“I’m Jinx.”

“Jinx, right. Just stopping in to say hi tonight. I’ll be on the bar officially in the morning.”

“Cool. Glad to have you. It’s cool what you and Chris worked out.” He looked toward the door and

rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother, here we go.”

Eva swung around. A large bouquet of flowers was walking toward her on male legs.

Jinx snorted. “The dude does not give up.”

The flowers lowered.

Eva’s heart stopped. Okay, not really—that would be ridiculous, because she’d collapse—but it sure felt

as if everything inside her and in the whole world had paused to note this auspicious occasion.

Thick, short, dark hair that looked as if he’d tried hard to style it but the strands refused to lie flat. Deep

brown eyes under dark brows. High cheekbones, a lean jaw. Full mouth, with a faint groove on either side.

The shadow of masculine stubble. A small gold stud in one ear. Expensive dark suit, subtly patterned silk

tie in blue, burgundy and beige. Gold watch. Perfectly shined shoes.

That was him. Her soul mate. Her man, her One Great Love Eternal, acronym OGLE.

Or at least he was her next hot fling.

“Chris here?” Her soul mate put the flowers on the counter, glancing at Eva before he addressed Jinx.

She was used to making no impression on a guy like this. But that wouldn’t last long,

“Chris is not.” Jinx beckoned over another customer. Clearly he wasn’t a fan.

The perfect man yanked an iPhone from his pocket and poked at it.