Excerpt Reveal
RELEASE DATE: March 3, 2015
THE 27 CLUB
Kim Karr
New American
Library
Coffee Beans Part
II
Time to get down to business.
I
stomp out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The TV is on and I can hear the
weatherman announcing the same info the driver relayed to me. “Tropical Storm
Angela seemingly having stalled out once it passed over Cuba is picking up wind
speed as it makes its way toward the Florida Keys.”
The
rain is still beating down, but there are no calls for evacuations so I can
only assume I am fine staying here.
Determined
to get this conversation over with, I’m stopped dead in my own tracks. Nate is
standing in front of a built-in coffee maker, waving his hand frantically up
and down cursing under his breath, “Motherfucking piece of shit.”
“What
happened? Did the Miele not do what you told her to do?”
He
turns.
I
feel like I’m watching him in slow motion.
Without
warning, the air crackles.
He’s
momentarily taken aback, but then a look of amusement crosses his face. “Zoey
Flowers, you are . . .”
Words
pop into my head—sexy, beautiful, hot as hell, fuckable.
Where
did those come from?
That
grin lingers on his mouth. “Your brother’s sister, without a fucking doubt.”
Tears
prick my eyes. Not the words I hoped to hear, but so much more meaningful.
His
face contorts, the glow of amusement gone from his eyes, shadowed by something
darker. He sets two cups of coffee on the counter that separates us. “Hey, I’m
really not good at this stuff. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I
swipe the drops away. “No, really, it’s okay. I just miss him. That’s all.”
Nate’s
hands grip the counter and his head falls. “Yeah, me too.”
Silence
sweeps the vastness of the space, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable.
His
gaze lifts. “Zoey, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
I
can’t help but be charmed. “It’s nice to finally meet you too, Nate.”
He
clears his throat and a bit of shyness seems to cross his face.
I
fear I might be staring, so I avert my gaze to look down at the counter and it
lands on the two cups. “Are those lattés?”
His
head lifts at the same time mine does. The connection is immediate—a jolt of
electricity travels between us and I swear I see a little smile—not a smirk,
but an actual smile on his face.
The
most adorable boyish grin.
My
belly flutters and I can’t help but return the smile, feeling a little shy
myself.
“Yeah,
well that’s what they’re supposed to be. I didn’t know what you drank, but
thought I’d try these.”
I
move closer, close enough that my hipbones nudge the edge of the counter.
“Lucky for you, I’ll drink anything made with coffee beans.”
Then
it hits me, that his hair is the color of the finest imported coffee beans.
“Yeah,
lucky for me,” he repeats.
Taking
a seat on one of the barstools, I blow on the top of the latté. The froth is
not exactly froth-like, more like big soap bubbles or maybe clumps of soured
whipped cream.
“You’re
a schoolteacher, right?” he asks.
“Something
like that,” I say. “I’m employed by the University of Rochester. You’re a
landlord, right?”
His
lips tip up a fraction. “Something like that.”
I
laugh. “Just kidding. I know all about you—big successful CEO of an
up-and-coming development company, who buys unprofitable businesses, turns them
around, and then sells them.
Zach
said you are very business savvy.”
This
is true, but what I fail to mention is Zach told me so much more about him.
He
raises one brow in the sexiest way. “You’re going to make me blush if you keep
talking like that. But it sounds to me like you’re leaving some crucial things
out. I’m sure your brother must have given you some dirt on me.”
How
does he know Zach told me all about his inability to commit, his obsession with
work, and his need to always be in control? He never spoke of him in a
demeaning way though. No, rather Zach seemed to idolize this man. The words
integrity, hard working, and respectful always followed anything that might
have been construed as negative. Zach once mentioned that he thought something
must have happened that triggered Nate’s extreme behavior.
He
could understand that.
Honestly,
so could I.
“Z
never could give a compliment without making sure to put a little bite in it.
My guess is he would have said something like this: “Big shot asshole of
some rising development company.”
I
shrug. He did have my brother pegged. “Maybe it did go more like that.”
He
smirks, and God help me. I have to look away.
I
try to tuck my emotion aside by sipping on my latté. It tastes more like water,
but the coffee lover in me is distracted by the trouble that’s watching me.
His
eyes seem to darken as they follow the liquid into my mouth and then down my
throat.
His
breath seemingly goes shallow as if he’s picturing my mouth on something else.
My
imagination must be in overdrive. I shake it off and point to my cup. “Not
bad.”
He
takes a sip of his and practically spits it out. “Not bad! It tastes like
shit.”
I
can feel my lips turning upward again. I swear I haven’t smiled in so long that
I snap and just let the laughter roll through me—my body quaking, my hair
bouncing like a lion’s mane.
Nate
stares flabbergasted, and I can see his body tensing.
Once
I’m finally able to speak, I manage to say, “Really, it doesn’t taste terrible.
You just have your timing and ratios off, that’s all. Steam the milk a little
longer, and add more beans.”
He
sets his cup down and gives me a skeptical look.
“I
used to work at a coffee shop when I was in college. I can show you if you
like?”
Our
gazes lock.
When
he doesn’t respond, reality crashes down around me. I can’t let this become
flirtatious.
I
clear my throat. “Well, anyway, can we get back to why you’re here in the
middle of the night? You can be honest with me—have you been staying here?”
A
muscle twitches along Nate’s jaw, but he doesn’t answer me. Instead, he picks
up his cup and turns to the sink, dumps his full latté down the drain, and then
walks to the back of the house in the darkness.
My
head twists so my eyes can track him.
He
flicks a light switch on and twists his own head.
I
know he must have caught my stare, and God knows what possessed look I might
have had on my face. I quickly turn back.
“Zoey,
I think we need to talk.”
“I
know we do. And Nate, it’s okay. Really. I don’t mind that you’ve been staying
here,” I reassure him as I turn back around.
He
opens one of the many sliding glass doors and the sound of the storm gets
louder. “Come over here. I want to show you something.”
Something
draws me toward him.
He’s
a man of authority. I can tell he’s used to getting his way, but I’m not
usually one to submit to dominance. I’ve been around it enough at work—male
professors are the poster children for authoritative personalities.
But
still I move forward, approaching him with caution.
The
sound of the waves crashing against the shore is beautiful. With the door open
the smell in the air is pungent in the most delicious way, or maybe that’s
Nate—clean, fresh, manly.
Without
realizing it, I’m standing right in front of him. I get lost in the wind, the
air, the sound—and him. I tilt my head back to look at him. I’m tall, but he’s
almost a head taller than I am—he must be six-two. Something about his
proximity makes my body feel possessed.
It’s
nothing like I’ve felt before.
He
steps out the door and onto a covered deck, scrubbing his stubbled jaw. “I told
you I’m shit at this kind of stuff so I’m just going to get this over with.”
Relief
takes over.
Here
it comes.
Finally!
You
don’t know when…
You
don’t get to choose if…
When
it’s time to join…you’ll know.
You
might think you want to be a member—but trust me this is one club you don’t
want to join. It’s not a place where people go to live out their deepest,
darkest sexual desires—there are no handcuffs or blindfolds.
The
27 Club only admits those who die young and tragically. My brother was recently
bestowed membership and joined many of our ancestors before him. I know I’m
next. This is my destiny, and I was ready to yield.
But
then I met Nate. He awakened a sensuality in me that had never been explored,
never satisfied. I knew then I could no longer accept my destiny. Nate’s
presence controls me. I’m overwhelmed by his touch, his words; my every thought
is consumed by desire. I believe he was brought into my life for a reason.
Nate
doesn’t believe in destiny.
But
I do.
And
if there’s a way to cheat it—I must.
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