Excerpt of A Stranger?s Kiss by K.E. Saxon

David was late showing up for work. Of course, at this point, he was the only employee on the schedule of his soon-to-be opened Texas style grill, Cindy Lou’s BBQ, so he had no one waiting for his arrival. Still. There was a lot to get done before his meeting with the graphic artist his buddy, and soon to be barbecue chef, Jay, had suggested he hire to do his logo, menu and possibly even a few ad designs.

He’d only had time to shave, shower, and change clothes before coming here. Hell, he hadn’t even given himself the luxury of a cup of coffee, and now his system was screaming for its daily fix. An unexpected yawn shuddered through his system as he maneuvered his way toward the kitchen through the clear plastic that the construction workers had hung from the rafters. The new commercial grade appliances had been put in the day before and the electrical wiring was in, connected and working in the restaurant as well, so he set his attention on brewing himself some joe. He was all set to grab the carafe, when his gaze fell on the photo of Cindy, beaming her lovely smile at him as she sat in one of the swings at Memorial Park last summer, only a week before the night. He’d left the photo sitting on the counter the day before. Valentine’s Day.

The day their baby had been due. The day he’d commemorated by getting drunk and cheating on his wife with a stranger he’d picked up in a bar.

“How could this happen? We’ve been so careful! I can’t believe this Cindy—we can not afford a baby right now!” Guilt, his ever-present, old friend twisted the knife that had taken up residence in his heart these past months and his breath caught. His throat worked. His eyes squeezed shut. His hand shook. He collapsed against the counter with his head hanging limp between his shoulders. The back of his fingers grazed the edge of the photo frame and he pushed it away. Get a grip on yourself, man. You can’t let the graphic artist see you like this. He forced air into his lungs several times, stood up, reached for the coffee carafe again, and manfully went about the morning ritual, keeping his eyes focused on his rote activities and away from the photo, away from his guilt.

* * *

Karen placed the case that held her laptop on the hood of her car and took a moment to straighten her suit jacket and skirt, to tuck her blouse below the waistband more snugly. She did a quick check of her makeup and hair using the driver’s side mirror attached to her car door. Deciding she looked professional, that the eye drops she’d been copiously using had done the trick and brightened and whitened her once red eyes, she grabbed up her tool of the trade once more and marched toward the glass doors of the establishment she’d, hopefully, be creating artwork for later today.

She forced a smile onto her face, forced the muscles in her jaw and around her eyes to relax, and prayed like hell that she was putting off confident vibes. So, her day had started off badly. She would recover. After all, it hadn’t taken as long, nor had it been as arduous a task as she’d first believed, to retrieve her car from the parking lot of what she now knew to be called, “Jumpin’ Jilly’s Country Canteen”. Luckily, the cab came right away to pick her up and her car had not been vandalized—or worse—stolen, as she’d feared.

A flash memory of a hot, humid mouth on her breast caught her off guard and her heart leapt into her throat. She had to stop walking for a moment to catch her breath.

She felt a sudden dampness under her arms, and even more disturbing, between her thighs. Okay, so the anonymous one-night-stand was still bothering her a little.

She’d feel much better about the whole encounter if she could just remember his face, remember his name. With effort, she shook the dour feelings off, shoved the memories back into the murky background, and took a decisive step forward. Two more steps and she was at the glass doors. Okay, this is it. She beamed a smile, swung the door wide, and took a step inside the dim restaurant. “Hello? Anyone here? Mr. Anderson?”

* * *

David heard a female voice that sounded somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t place it. However, he was sure it belonged to the graphic artist he was expecting, so he hustled through the curtains of clear plastic, calling out, “Hello! Ms. Samuels?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be there in a sec.” He chuckled. “Just making my way through the labyrinth.”

He heard an answering musical laugh that sent a tingle of dread down his spine and a flash of desire to his groin. No! It can’t be. Not her. God would not be that cruel. Not after all he’d been through already in the past seven months.