Page 1 of Sweeter Than Honey
Chapter One
Lookatme,aboutto make another huge mistake.
Cara Neal shifted in the driver’s seat of her parked Jeep and frowned in annoyance at the unsteady man using the crumbling brick exterior of The Mark Bar as a urinal. He steadied himself with one hand on the wall, gripped hisappendagewith the other and whirled it in circles while whooping in delight. Then he stopped to stare at it as if waiting for something remarkable to happen.
She groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. “It’s not going to get bigger, buddy. Just move on already.”
She’d been waiting for Pisser to leave for over five minutes now. She’d have to call it a night and head home soon. It was getting dark, and The Mark was a shifter bar. They came out in droves at night, and she couldn’t afford to get tangled up with another sexy bear shifter who offered a little fun and distraction in the shadows.
This place was a dump anyway. Nothing more than a crumbling hole in the wall. It might have been respectable once, but the humid Kansas City heat and no TLC had worn it down to a place where grown men performed cock acrobatics outside the front door.
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel.
How the hell had she let business associates drag her here two months ago? Yes, they were celebrating her win as Kansas City’s Young Entrepreneur of the Year and the nice five-thousand-dollar prize that went with it by having a drink at every bar on the West side. But she wasn’t one to go to bars, certainly not shifter bars, or… engage in anything else that had happened that night.
She’d been high on the power of being gifted an oversized plastic key to the city and drunk on one too many shots of herbal infused vodka.
Who was she kidding? She downed too many cheap beers while lugging that stupid key over her shoulder like it was an Olympic medal. Which… it kind of was. She didn’t start from nothing and work her business into one point two million in sales in three years by being lazy.
And now that was all about to change.
"You have to go in there. It's your only lead." Saying the words out loud didn’t help, even if it was the truth. This place offered her the only chance to find Roan, if that was his real name.
Pisser finally zipped up and went inside.
Cara sat straighter and looked at herself in the rearview mirror, inadvertently spying her packed bags in the back seat. She’d just had a meeting with a high-end jeweler about potentially creating a line of engagement rings for their store, and she was supposed to be heading out of town for that vacation she’d promised herself she was going to take. She’d booked a hotel room in Estes Park, Colorado, to get away and have a few days to think about the situation she was in—away from the prying eyes of her ever-present assistant, Olive.
Her phone chimed with a familiar tone. Grateful for the distraction, Cara checked the incoming email for the daily sales report from her online store. Her heart fluttered in the anxiety-overdrive way it did whenever orders piled in. They’d just run a sale on bracelets, and by the looks of it, half the country decided to cash in their 25 percent off.
Eyeing the bags again, she worked her jaw and pondered a moment. No way could she go out of town with thirty plus pages of incoming orders.
Pulling up her text app, she typed a message to Olive.Not going out of town after all. Will be in tomorrow to help with orders.
An immediate reply popped up.You sure? I’ve got it if you want to go. No worries.
It’s not that Olive and the rest of the team weren’t capable, Cara just didn’t like to leave the office for more than a day. Things tended to go to hell when she wasn’t around. She had plans for expansion and world domination in the artisan jewelry space. Everyone would know Cara Neal designs... one day.
First, there were loose ends to tidy up. Like, finding Roan.
I’m sure. See you tomorrow.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the car door and slipped out. She really didn’t want to do this. Something didn’t feel right. The back of her neck tingled. A small voice in her head said not to go in, to just go home. It was the same voice that said she should live a little and go home with Roan tonight.
The voice inside her head was clearly off her meds.
She lightly touched her abdomen. The evidence of that drunken night hadn't made itself apparent yet, but it wouldn’t be long. Shutting the car door, she tossed her long auburn hair back and clipped across the parking lot on her three-inch designer heels. She could do this. “Get it together, Cara,” she whispered.
She didn’t owe this guy anything, right? Lots of women had babies alone. No, no, she wasn’t going to bethatperson?the one who never gave the father a chance to know about his baby. She owed it to Roan… but first she had to find out his, ah, well, hiswholename.
And where he lived.
Maybe an email address? A Twitter handle.
Snapchat! She could send him a snap. Hey, remember me? We’re having a baby. Surprise! The heart-eyes, face glitter, butterfly wing filter might make it easier to digest, right?
Shuffling sounded behind her. With a start, she looked back while simultaneously sliding the keys on her keyring between her fingers as a paltry weapon. Kansas City shifters had a mixed reputation. There were the honorable, true-to-their pack credo ones, and then… the others. The old-school shifters who followed archaic laws that didn’t mesh well with human society.
The parking lot behind her was empty.
