Chasing The Night: Big Easy Shifters: Book Three by Knox, Abby (best novels to read for students TXT) 📗

She plopped down her daddy’s platinum on the counter with confidence and relief. Theodore might be a prude and weirdly obsessed with protecting her virtue, but damn if his money didn’t come in handy when she was in a bind in New Orleans. And she always got herself tangled up in something when she visited her New Orleans cousins.

Chastity glanced around the place. There were band posters on the walls, and tattooed and pierced customers sipping small cups of very black coffee. The music playing over the speakers sounded to her not at all like the jazz and blues she would hear at any of her favorite spots in the French Quarter. Where in the hell was she? Was she even in New Orleans at all? Well, soon she’d be caffed and juiced up enough to find out. And then, wafting in and out of the coffee aroma was something else. A familiar scent among all of the unfamiliar things that surrounded her. A man’s scent.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart rate picked up. This scent was triggering a memory. It was him. The same scent that was stuck to her skin.

Chastity closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds. She saw tanned flesh pressed against her breasts. She could almost feel her face nuzzling against a man’s neck. A bearded face with long hair brushing her cheeks. A scent of mandarin and spice. He felt so close and real when she closed her eyes, it overshadowed anything that had happened at Rosemary’s bachelorette party. Had there been a stripper? Maybe. Burlesque show? Likely. Comedy show? Bar hopping? Probably. That was all vague and hazy, like an insignificant dream compared to the event that had followed, and not just because of the alcohol. She popped open her eyes and looked around but did not see anybody who resembled this G from her photos or her memory. But G was here—or had been here recently.

Then she realized the barista, a female with dyed white hair and ice-blue eyeshadow, was staring at her quizzically. “Ma’am, this card has been declined.”

Chastity blinked herself back to reality.

“Excuse me? What does that mean, declined?” Batting her eyelashes and playing dumb usually worked. This did not work on college-age students with no real vested interest in whether or not she succeeded in purchasing a coffee.

“Declined? It means I’m supposed to call…”

Chastity snatched away the card and ran out. No fucking way was anybody calling the credit card company. That would only result in the credit card company notifying her father, and she didn’t want any of that kind of attention right now. Not when she had a mystery to solve.

Except now, she was back on the street with no coffee and no money.

There was nothing for her to do but close her eyes and try to find that scent again. The mystery man.

Finishing school, beauty pageants, and high teas will not teach a girl how to track a scent. So it was a good thing she had one other thing nobody could take away: the animal instincts of a panther that never really left her when she was in her human form.

Chastity was going to find her man.

And then she was gonna slap him upside the head for getting himself a coffee and not getting any for her.

Chapter Four

Gavin, 9 a.m.

“Ash, you seem like you’ve already had enough coffee for ten people.”

Ash nodded as he strode into their favorite coffee shop. “I have.”

The young barista behind the counter said, “Oh goody. A Boudreaux and my tattoo artist, sans shirt.”

She seemed more sarcastic than overjoyed to see the shop’s most frequent customer and biggest tipper, accompanied by the artist who had done both of her sleeves.

Gavin ordered himself a large black coffee with an extra shot of espresso.

The barista cocked her head and smirked. “Red eye?”

Gavin stared back at her. He did not know technical names for coffee. He knew technical things about tattooing, and that was about it. “Sure,” he said. “That.”

The barista turned and got to fixing his beverage. He and Ash scanned the place, but there was no sign of Bobby. “Hey, darlin’, you seen Bobby in here this morning?”

She stared. “No. And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Ash looked hurt. “Darlin’, all I did was call you darlin’, ‘cause you are a darlin’!”

Gavin grunted. “Ash, come on, let’s go.” His friend might be a modern fellow, but his manners needed some work.

Ash persisted by opening up his phone and showing her a photo of Bobby. “You do remember him, don’t you? Reddish hair, tall? Boyish good looks.”

The barista sighed. “I heard you were getting married. Are you marrying Bobby? Because you sound pretty sweet on him.”

Ash puffed up his chest. “And so what if I am?”

Gavin had half a mind to bolt and abandon his friend, but then he had a brainstorm. His phone. Shit, of course!

He quickly took it out and opened the photo app. But no dice. No photographic evidence in his phone of last night’s girl whatsoever. Not a single selfie. On one hand, maybe that was a good thing, as it cut the chances by half that there might be compromising photos of himself out on social media without his knowledge. But who could say if last night’s partner had snapped any shots, and who knew what she was capable of doing with them?

Still, he had a good feeling about her and believed she couldn’t be too far away. He ordered a coffee for her, whoever she was.

Then Gavin texted her as he waited and while Ash continued to banter with the unamused barista.

“I got you a coffee. I’m just guessing here, but I’m assuming you like lattes? I got you one with whole milk. I hope I guessed right. You seem like a whole milk kind of girl, I don’t know why.”

He finally dragged Ash out of there and left a large tip for