Her mouth was every bit as soft as I thought it would be.

That was my first thought. My second thought…Kane, what the hell are you doing, man?

I was kissing a total stranger on New Year’s Eve, that’s what.

And it was a normal, sweet, innocent kiss…then it was over. So over, and not likely to be repeated because even as I contemplated doing it again, she jerked back and glared at me.

“What the hell?” she demanded. Without waiting another second, she hauled her hand back and let it fly, slapping me across the face.

There wasn’t a lot of power in the blow, and I wondered if she’d ever hit anyone before, which was a stupid thing to be wondering since I’d clearly pissed her off. What I should have been wondering was how to make an apology.

She was gone, though, ghosting through the crowd on feet so fast I’d be hard pressed to catch her. I was long-legged and big, but she was fast and moving at an all-out run.

A few people turned to look at me, which led me to realize they’d seen the whole damn thing.

Great.

Just great.

What in the hell had I been thinking?

Easy answer.

I hadn’t been thinking. At all.

Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and headed back through the crowd. I’d just dropped off the keys for a car I’d finished for one of my regulars. He was the manager at a hotel on W. 35^th Street and had promised a nice tip – and delivered – if I’d bring the keys to him tonight. Since I was still struggling to pay off what I owed on the garage, so it would be mine free and clear, I never ignored a request when it came with the words nice tip.

The tip had indeed been nice, and I’d already hit an ATM, depositing the cash so I didn’t have to worry about getting mugged. It wasn’t really a big concern in my mind. Most muggers went looking for somebody who came off as being far less trouble than I’d be, and while I wasn’t the tallest guy I’d ever come across at six-two, I was one of the roughest bastards in the area. Heavy with muscle, tattoos roped my arms and marked my hands. A scar bisected my left eyebrow courtesy of a fight where my opponent had gone for a knife – it could have taken the eye if he been just a little faster than me.

Fortunately, I’d been the faster one, and he’d ended up with that buried in his thigh. He was lucky I hadn’t gone for that big artery there. But I hadn’t wanted him dead.

My looks probably had something to do with how people tended to fall away when they saw me in a crowd, and made it a little bit easier to cut through the masses as I headed for the subway. I deliberately chose one a little farther away from Times Square because I didn’t want to wait for the crowds to ease up.

The plan worked well enough, and it was only a little after one when I got to the party some friends in Brooklyn were throwing.

Briefly, I wondered if the cute redhead I kissed had made it home okay.

I hoped so.

Briefly, I wondered if maybe I should have caught up with her and made sure she had made it home.

But that really wouldn’t have gone over well after I went and smacked the kiss on her. I didn’t understand the slap though. I’d felt something the second I looked at her. I could have sworn she felt the same tug I did, but maybe I just needed to get laid.

Music blasted through the windows as I approached the house. Nobody would think about telling them to turn it down, and nobody would think about calling the cops.

It didn’t mean the cops wouldn’t come by here and tell these guys to quieten down, but as soon as the uniforms left, the music would go right back up.

I knew the drill. I’d been to parties like this.

The house belonged to Russell Carpenter. He went by Rusty, although whether the nickname was because of his red hair or because he hated his first name, I didn’t know, nor did I care to ask.

I’d known Rusty since before I’d gone to prison.

We’d both run in separate gangs then, but we’d never caused each other problems, and we didn’t now. He and some of the guys in his were some of my steadiest customers, although they came in late, paid in cash and never wanted anybody but me working on their cars or bikes.

As I entered the house, ears already vibrating from the music, I peeled out of the jacket I’d worn and hung it up on the coat rack, trying to bury it under a layer of other coats so it might still be there when I left.

If not…well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d lost one at a party like this.

“Oh…you’re here…” A soft, feminine voice purred up at me, and I looked down to see Calie Smalls giving me a seductive smile.

She was taller than a lot of women and must have been wearing a pair of stiletto heels because now her mouth was just an inch lower than mine. When she would have leaned in to kiss me, I eased back.

Calie and I had an on again and off again thing going on between us. Lately, it had been in the on switch quite a bit, which might explain why she kept sidling closer, but I hadn’t come to see her.

“Hey.” I managed a smile for her, but before she could loop her arm through mine, I said, “Nice seeing ya. I need to go say hi to Rusty. Happy New Year, Calie.”

I lost myself in the crowd and didn’t look back, not even when a low crash reverberated behind me, and a bunch of hooting broke out. A piece of furniture had likely just been broken.

This was why I didn’t ever want to have parties at my place. When it came to guys like this, if only one thing got broken, it probably wasn’t even considered a party.

Rusty was in the back of the house, smoking a joint and nursing a bottle of beer while his girlfriend leaned up against him. He met my eyes and lifted the beer in greeting then pointed over to the far wall. I craned my neck around and saw the cooler, nodding my thanks as I moved to grab a beer for myself. I snagged another one and lifted it, showing it to Rusty. He mouthed something that might have been, “Fuck, yes.” I had no idea but took the bottle along. If he didn’t drink it, I’d need it in a few minutes.

One of the guys saw me and got up, vacating the chair without me having to say a word. I wouldn’t have, I would have been fine standing with my back to the wall, but I took the seat. It was mostly turned to the wall, like a lot of the chairs and it gave me an almost full view of the room.

That was how I preferred it.

Seated next to Rusty, I nodded at his girlfriend as I passed him the beer.

His girlfriend, Bernadette – Bernie to all of us – saw me and swayed forward to wrap her arms around my neck in an overly enthusiastic hug. She wasn’t the flirtatious type unless she was plastered so I didn’t think much of it, just eased her back toward Rusty. “Had a bit to drink, Bernie?” I asked her.

She snorted and laughed. “A bit? Nooooo…” Then she fell back against Rusty and said, “I’m tired, baby. Let’s go to bed and fuck.”

He grinned down at her. “We’ve got company, baby.”

She wiggled her eyebrows and giggled. “They can come watch!”

He patted her cheek, then shifted on the chair where he sat so she could curl up against him better. The two of them had been together for as long as I’d known them.

“How’s that bike coming along?” Rusty asked as Bernie snuggled into his heavy frame. He stood almost four inches taller than me, and Bernie, at five-six, looked almost delicate next to him. She buried her face in his neck, and I had no doubt she’d be asleep in no time, never mind the noise and chaos going on around her. And Rusty would just sit there holding her.

For some reason, the thought hung there with me as I thought about the bike one of Rusty’s guys had brought me the other day. “Need a few more parts. They’ve got to be ordered in. Already placed the order, but with the holidays, things are moving slow.”

Rusty rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fuck the holidays. I want my bike.”

“You might be able to get it quicker if you took it to a bigger garage,” I offered.

“I don’t want a bigger garage.”

I knew he didn’t.

Off to my right, two women broke out into a screaming argument, and I grimaced as the splatters from what was probably beer hit the side of my face and neck. I was going to smell like the inside of a brewing vat by the time I left here.

“You find yourself a pretty girlie to kiss at midnight?” Rusty asked.

Shooting him a glance, I said, “What?”

“Midnight…kissing in the New Year.”

“It’s ringing in the New Year,” I told him.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, his gaze on the girl fight carrying on next to me. I was paying it a fair amount of attention myself, watching from the corner of my eye. When the two women practically tumbled into my lap, I shifted automatically, shielding them from accidentally striking Bernie, who had started to snore.

I rose, letting them fall from my lap. One of them hit the table which set the bottles on top to wobbling. They continued to fight right up until the bottles fell and the domino effect had beer, cocktails, and wine pouring down on the two screaming and scrapping women.

They stopped, half choking.

“If you’re done,” Rusty said in a level voice. “Can you do something about this fucking mess you just made?”