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  ALONE

  Preludes, Book One

  Copyright © 2014 Kali Argent

  ALONE

  Copyright © 2014 by Kali Argent

  Cover Art by Sloan Winters

  Published by UnScripted Inc.

  eBook ISBN:

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  ALONE

  Sometimes, new beginnings come from unexpected places.

  To Cecily Baker, being unattached means making her own decisions, living by her own rules, and never answering to anyone. So when her sister drags her to a singles night at a local club—and then ditches her—it only strengthens Cecily’s conviction that dating just isn’t for her.

  Pulling double duty as a bouncer and a bartender, Rafe Serento has seen a parade of beautiful women walk through the doors of Electric Mist, but he’s never met anyone like Cecily. Lovely in every sense of the word, and just as stubborn, she challenges everything he thought he wanted in a relationship.

  The more Cecily pushes him away, though, the harder Rafe pushes back, and unless they find some common ground, they’ll both end up Alone.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Don’t you want to get out there?

  Aren’t you tired of being alone?

  Don’t you ever just want to get laid?

  At thirty-three, Cecily Baker had been asked all of those questions more times than she cared to calculate, and each one she answered with a resounding “no.” Except for the occasional errand, she didn’t often leave her apartment, and she found nothing wrong with that.

  Casual hookups held little interest for her, and sex didn’t rank high on her must-do list, either. When the mood did strike, her purple, silicone vibrator did more for her than any man ever had. She’d yet to find a real penis that could vibrate, swirl, and thrust all at once. As an added benefit, her battery-operated-boyfriend didn’t want to cuddle afterward, either.

  If Mr. Right came along, she wouldn’t slam the door in his face, but quite frankly, she was content being alone. Besides, her previous forays into the dating scene hadn’t exactly made her long for that elusive happily-ever-after.

  Standing at the front door of Electric Mist with her entrance ticket in hand, she damned herself again for agreeing to some stupid meet-and-greet for local Indianapolis singles.

  “One hour,” Cecily warned. “That’s it.” The dress she’d chosen hugged the breath from her, and her feet ached inside the strappy heels she’d chosen. “I will not be your wingman. I will not go on a double date with you because some poor shmuck has a friend. Are we clear?”

  After a nasty divorce and a subsequent move across the country, Melissa had the itch. Clearly, she wasn’t one to give up just because her first three marriages had failed, either. Nor would she be deterred because two engagements had dissolved before the happy couple had even reached the altar.

  Melissa snorted, took Cecily’s hand, and pulled her through the heavy oak door. “Lighten up, sis. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

  Since as far back as junior high, her baby sister hadn’t been without a man for more than a couple of months at a time. Melissa enjoyed attention, lived for the chase, and she’d always been in love with the idea of love.

  “No.” Cecily passed her invitation to the doorman, subtly admiring the way his black, cotton T-shirt clung to his well-muscled torso. “You’re here to find your next intended target. I’m here to make sure you don’t get into trouble. No one ever mentioned fun.”

  “It was in the fine print.” The bouncer curled his long fingers around Cecily’s wrist and pulled her closer to place a glow-in-the-dark stamp on the back of her hand. “That shit will get you every time.”

  Laughing in spite of herself, Cecily bobbed her head as she pulled her hand back. “I’ll remember that.”

  Leading the way through the crowd, Melissa climbed the stairs to the VIP lounge and found a two-top, circular table near the railing. “He’s cute,” she commented, sliding gracefully into one of the seats.

  “The bouncer?” Cecily shrugged and settled into the seat across from her sister. “Yeah, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.” Just because she didn’t slut around didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate an attractive man when she saw one.

  “Ask him.” Batting her lashes in an obvious attempt at innocence, Melissa twisted her lips into a coy smirk and examined her manicured nails. “Maybe he’ll take you up on the offer. I bet he makes a mean breakfast.”

  “You are disturbing. You know that, right?”

  “Whatever.” With a sigh, Melissa stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. “I’m going to mingle, maybe grab some cheese from the hors d’oeuvres table. Want something?”

  “A vodka sour, hold the sour.” Cecily shook her head when Melissa frowned at her. “Never mind. I’m good.”

  A server dressed in a black-and-blue schoolgirl skirt and a sky-blue, button-down blouse appeared, seemingly from thin air, and popped her hip out to the side. “What can I get you, sweetheart?”

  “Vodka sour.”

  “You got it. Anything else? Maybe a tube shot?”

  Cecily smiled politely, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs. “Just the vodka sour, thank you.”

  “I’ll be back in a blink. I’m Jessica, so just give a yell if you change your mind. Everything is on the house, and we’ve set up an hors d’oeuvres table for the event.” Then she flounced away, her dark ponytail swishing as she navigated through the crowd to the lounge bar.

  The server hadn’t been gone more than a minute when a young man strutted over to her and rapped his knuckles against the table top. “Is this seat taken?” He tilted his head to the side, indicating Melissa’s vacated chair.

  An affirmative answer played on the tip of her tongue, but Cecily bit it back and grinned. “No, not at the moment.”

  “Are you here alone, then?” He slid smoothly into the seat and leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table. “I didn’t see you with anyone.”

  “I’m not alone.” She already regretted her momentary lapse in judgment.

  Cecily studied her companion as she searched for something more to say. He had nice eyes, a decent smile, and curly blond locks framed his face like an angel’s halo. However, she estimated the kid to be somewhere in his early twenties, likely still in college.

  “How old are you?” she blurted.

  “Twenty-four.” He reached across the table with his right hand. “I’m Aiden, by the way.”

  Sighing, Cecily grasped his hand briefly. “Cecily, and no offense, but I’m not into cougar bait.”

  “Cougar? C’mon, you can’t be more than a couple of years older than me.”

  Her vanity appreciated the compliment, but she saw right through those baby blue eyes and dimpled cheeks. “Trust me, kid, you wouldn’t know what to do with this.”

  “I’m a quick study. Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

  “I’m thirty-three,” she said in challenge. “Still think you can handle it?”

  “Beautiful, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.” Reaching across the table again, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Tell me what I have to do to convince you to dance with me.”

  Thankfully, Jessica arrived with her drink, sparing Cecily the need to fabricate an excuse. “Maybe some other time.”

  “One dance,” Aiden insisted. “If you still feel that way, I promise I won’t bother you anymore.”

  Skimming her index finger around
the rim of her glass, Cecily arched an eyebrow and shook her head. “You’re sweet, but I’m not interested.”

  The charming façade cracked, and Aiden’s eyes tightened at the corners. “Fine, can’t blame a guy for trying.” Then he stood and marched away without a backward glance.

  More would-be suitors stopped by to try their luck, but as the night progressed, the visitors trickled to a stop. Apparently, word had spread about the ice queen in the blue dress. One man-child had even wanted to warm her frozen heart with some “wicked cool” moves he’d seen in a porn flick once.

  Goody for me.

  “I’m too old for this crap,” she said aloud to no one in particular. Finishing her drink, Cecily set her glass on the table with an audible thud and sighed. “To hell with this.”

  Standing, she brushed her hair back from her face, leaned against the railing, and scanned the crowd below for her sister. Seeing no sign of her on the dance floor or at the bar, Cecily descended the stairs and pushed her way to the lady’s room. When she didn’t find Melissa there, either, her ears began to ring, and a cold, hollow ache formed in the pit of her stomach.

  Squeezing through the throng of mingling bodies, Cecily stalked toward the bouncer perched on his barstool near the exit. “Excuse me? Did you see a woman leave here?” She held her hand out to the side, raising it to about the bridge of her nose. “This tall, dark hair, petite, wearing a red dress that screams of desperation?”

  “The one you came in with?” the bartender asked, even as he nodded. “She left with some guy about half an hour ago.”

  “I’m going to kill her.” A frustrated growl vibrated up through her throat, and she clenched her fists at her side.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Cecily stopped, took a calming breath, and nodded. It wasn’t the bouncer’s fault Melissa behaved like an idiot. “I’m sure everything’s fine. Thank you.”

  “My shift ends in ten minutes if you want help finding her.”

  “No.” Sighing, Cecily took a final look around the club and turned to the door. “I appreciate it, but I’ve been down this road before. She’ll show up in the morning with excuses and apologies.”

  “Be careful out there.” Lifting a business card from the podium beside him, the bouncer passed it to Cecily without flair or flourish. “If you need a cab, call that number and ask for Jefferson. Tell him Rafe sent you.”

  Cecily thumbed the corner of the card before handing it back. “Thanks, but I don’t live far.” She just wanted to get home, slip into a hot shower, and forget the night had ever happened. “Good night, Rafe.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You working tomorrow night?”

  Rafe patted the pockets of his jacket twice, ensuring he hadn’t forgotten anything. “Yeah, I’m working the bar in the VIP lounge. Some bachelorette party or something.”

  “I don’t envy you.” Jared hung his coat on the hook behind the podium and chuckled. “See ya tomorrow, man.”

  Waving, Rafe pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped out into the night. Neon signs and storefronts lit up the length of Meridian Street, but he only passed a couple of stragglers as he followed the familiar route to this apartment. Not many folks ventured out at midnight on a Thursday, not downtown anyway.

  The streetlamps overhead buzzed and flickered, throwing flashes of orange light at his feet. The breeze that ruffled through his hair was unseasonably chilled for October, but at least summer had finally released its brutal hold on the city.

  Turning the corner onto Michigan Street, Rafe slowed his pace when he spotted a slip of a woman leaning against the side of the bakery, her head hung and the straps of both shoes dangling from her right index finger. He couldn’t remember her name, but he had no problem placing her from the club.

  “Did you find your friend?” he asked as he approached.

  “My sister, and no.” Tear tracks stained her cheeks, but she laughed as she shook her shoes at him. “I broke a heel. Possibly an ankle. How was your night?”

  Indeed, he could see one gold heel barely hanging on by a strip of thin leather. Her dark-blue dress had a tear up the side, clear to her hip, revealing a pair of lacey black panties. Though an enjoyable sight, Rafe adverted his eyes to allow her a measure of modesty.

  “Do you need to call a cab?” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and offered it to the curvy blonde.

  She waved him away, though, and shook her head. “I live up the block. I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

  Blood seeped from a gash on her knee and trickled down the length of her leg to a visibly swollen ankle. She’d likely been leaning against the brick wall of the bakery for the better part of fifteen minutes, but pride flashed in her eyes when she straightened and pulled her shoulders back.

  “I don’t think you’re going anywhere on that ankle, hon.” Kneeling on the sidewalk, he lifted her leg, bending it at the knee, and gingerly grasped her foot. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he added when she hissed. “Badly sprained, but bed rest and some aspirin should do the trick.”

  “Cecily.”

  Easing her foot back to the ground, Rafe stood and brushed the dirt from his jeans. “Excuse me?”

  “My name is Cecily Baker, not hon.”

  “Well, Cecily, I’m Rafe Serento, and I’m headed in the same direction. If you don’t want a cab, at least let me help you home.”

  The muscles in her jaw ticked, and he could practically see the war raging inside her head. He waited patiently, though, hoping good sense would win out over stubborn pride. Though he wouldn’t just leave her alone to fend for herself, Cecily’s cooperation would make helping her much easier.

  “Yeah…okay.” The sigh that rolled from her painted lips said she didn’t like it, but she was a practical lady, just as Rafe had predicted. “I’m two streets up at the Garden Apartments.”

  Cecily pushed away from the wall and tried to balance on one foot, while Rafe slipped out of his jacket and draped it around her narrow shoulders. “How do you want to do this?” He reached for her waist, but paused. “Um, well.” Taking her wrist, he pulled her arm around his neck, bending to accommodate for their height difference. Still, he didn’t know what to do with his other hand. “I think…if we…uh…”

  “Relax.” Cecily removed her arm from around his neck and leaned against his side with a sardonic grin. Then she took his free hand and guided it to encircle her midsection. “Unless you want to haul me home in a fireman’s carry, I think this is our best option.”

  Heat radiated through her thin dress to warm his palm, and Rafe gritted his teeth against the groan building in his chest. “The Garden Apartments?” He coughed to clear the gravel from his throat before speaking again. “How long have you lived there?”

  Even in the unflattering light, Cecily’s ivory skin glowed flawlessly, and her long, golden curls created soft shadows that drew his eye to the curve of her neck.

  “About four years now.” The tightness in her voice testified to her level of pain, but Cecily didn’t complain as she limped beside him. “Thank you, by the way. I’m sure this isn’t how you planned to spend your night.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I like to think I’m something of a superhero. Leaping tall buildings, racing bullets, and helping beautiful damsels in distress. It’s all in the job description.”

  Cecily laughed at his lame joke, a deep, throaty chuckle that tripped his pulse into a gallop. “Mild mannered bouncer by night, milder mannered superhero by later night? Sounds intriguing.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not all fun and games.” The breeze shifted, bringing with it the faint scent of floral perfume mixed with just a hint of vodka. “I mean, where do you even find a phone booth in this town?”

  Nearing the crosswalk, Cecily pulled him to a stop and leaned heavily against his side. “Just one second, okay? Sorry about this.”

  He could tell her not to apologize for something she had no control over, but
Rafe had a feeling anything he said would fall on deaf ears. “I’m not in any hurry,” he answered instead. “I don’t have anywhere to be, and it’s not like I’ve got someone waiting up for me.”

  “So you live alone?” Cecily sounded nothing more than mildly curious as she reached over to drop her shoes into the nearby trashcan. “I really liked those shoes,” she mumbled offhandedly. “They hurt like hell, but they were pretty.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll look into grief counseling in the morning.”

  Cecily’s husky laughter ended abruptly when she sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. “Light’s green. I’m ready.” She held a little tighter to his arm as they crossed the street, allowing him to support just a bit more of her weight. “You never did answer. About living alone?”

  “Miss Baker, are you flirting with me? Trying to get me all to yourself?”

  “I already have you to myself, Mr. Serento, but don’t worry. I promise not to take advantage.”

  The Garden Apartments loomed just ahead, windows illuminated with soft amber lights or flickering with the glow of television sets. “Almost there. How you doing?”

  “It hurts.” Cecily pulled his wool coat more securely around herself as she limped along beside him. “I’ll live, though. I think you were on to something with that bed rest and aspirin plan.”

  Neither of them spoke again as they made their way along the canal to the complex. The silence was peaceful, not awkward or uncomfortable, and Rafe felt a small pang of disappointment when they finally reached their destination.

  “Here we are, safe and sound as promised.” He gazed up at the wall of windows. “Tell me you’re not on the fifth floor.”

  Ducking her head, Cecily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m on the fifth floor.”

  “Well, okay.” In one fluid motion, he swept Cecily into his arms and strode toward the steps.

  Cecily squealed, a sound he didn’t think her capable of making, and swatted him in the back of the head. “What the hell are you doing?”