by Liz Talley
“Everyone calls her Lou. And yeah. She’s kinda protective of me and wouldn’t let me catch a ride with Hayden Verdun. She doesn’t trust his driving.”
Abram smiled. “I have an older brother. I understand.”
“Yeah, but did he punish you when you spit in your sister’s hair?”
No. His older brother Nate had never been old enough to boss him around much, besides it didn’t take long for Abram to grow taller and bigger than his older brother. Then, of course, his sister had disappeared. He only wished he could have spit in her hair. “Um, not really. But I bet you’re glad to have her around.”
Waylon looked thoughtful. “Yeah. Sometimes. I’ll be back.”
Abram wanted to follow him, but another prospect interrupted to ask a question. By the time Abram had given instructions about the storage of medicines, Waylon had disappeared.
Just as well.
He didn’t need to act like some pervert, trying to accidentally bump into Louise. He may be a little lonely because of his schedule, but he wasn’t that damn desperate. Wasn’t like he had to hang around a dorm he didn’t have to be at with the hope of a chance encounter. Yeah, that would be pathetic.
Then he saw her.
She stood beside her brother, pointing a finger, no doubt delivering some random directive. She wore jeans and a red tank top, and Abram didn’t miss several men turning to stare at her. Her long blond hair was gathered in a ponytail low on her neck and small loop earrings winked in her ears. Her skin was a soft bronze and her cheeks looked sun-kissed. She might have come from the beach or from lounging around the pool, but Abram knew she’d gained her tan from working in the dust and heat.
He’d been wrong earlier.
Louise Boyd was special. And that realization unfurled to flash a message in his head: if she’s special then maybe she’s worth the wait.
He couldn’t stop his feet from moving toward her.
“Hey,” he said, drawing her attention away from Waylon.
“Oh, Coach Dufrene. Nice to see you again.” She stuck her hand out with an uncertain smile. He took it, and though he didn’t believe in jolts or electricity pulsing through such minute contact, he felt something. A sort of warmth. A sort of want. She dropped his hand as quickly as she could.
“Good to see you, too, Louise.”
“Louise?” The girl standing beside her laughed. “I haven’t heard you called that since we were little and you were in trouble.”
Louise made a face at the teen before giving a begrudging smile. “Coach Dufrene, this is my sister Lori.”
He extended a hand to the girl, who had light brown hair like her brother, big blue eyes like Lou’s and a sweet rounded face. “Nice to meet you, Lori. Welcome to ULBR, and I appreciate you loaning us your brother for a few days.”
A flush spread across her cheeks. “You can have him longer if you want.”
Waylon rolled his eyes.
“Just kidding. He’s pumped about being here ’cause we’re big fans. Even Louise likes the Panthers.” Lori nudged her sister with an elbow.
Abram nodded. “Good. Y’all have any questions I can answer about the camp?”
“No,” Louise said, tempering her quick response with a shrug and a smile. “We’re good.”
Lori looked around the bustling lobby of the dorm. “You need help getting your gear, Way?”
“Yeah, come help me. Give me the keys, Lou.”
Louise shook her head. “I’ll help you get your stuff up and then help you set up.”
“I don’t need help making my bed, Lou. Come on, Lori.” He snatched the keys from Louise’s hand and the two disappeared out the door in a wave of more players streaming inside with luggage.
Abram took Louise’s arm as a big lineman barreled through with a huge duffel bag and pulled her aside. “Want to step outside?”
She licked her lips. He felt desire stir. Damn it. “Um, not really. I don’t think—”
“Come on.” He tugged.
“You sure are bossy,” she muttered, following him as he pushed out a side door. He said a quick prayer no one would interrupt him with some inane question about where to put something or if they could bring so forth and so on with them.
They emerged on the side of the dorm sheltered by the plentiful oaks growing on the ULBR campus. It was humid, and the branches dipped low as if bowing, throwing shade on the parking area. He started walking toward a patch of grass anchored within the black soil pushed here long ago by the mighty Mississippi River, which flowed less than a mile away. Louise followed, but he felt her reluctance.
“Should we be doing this?”
He turned. “Doing what?”
“Talking like this. Isn’t that a violation or something?”
“I’m talking to the guardian of one of our campers, not passing you money or promising you a Lexus.”
She scuffed the ground with a sandal. Her toes were still unpolished, but dainty for a construction worker. He loved the anomaly that was Louise. She meshed practicality with utter delicious femininity. “Yeah, but still, I’m not sure we should be seen together. I talked to the lady at the NCAA and—”
“How did that go?”
A furrow popped up between her gorgeous eyes. “You interrupt a lot.”
He shrugged. “I’m a coach. Guess I can be a little too demanding.”
“What happened out at Lake Chicot was—”
“—wonderful?”
“See? There you go again.” She looked up at him with a frown. “And I’m not sure I view it as wonderful. Maybe parts of it, but anyway, I never should have let the night get away from me. Never should have been so irresponsible. Just a mistake all around, and I’d really like to get past it.”
Her words sounded rehearsed—and exactly right. But standing there with her underneath the canopy of the oak made him realize there was no getting past the crackling awareness they had for one another. She could say whatever she wanted, but he knew in his gut she wanted him. “Damn, I wish you weren’t Waylon Boyd’s sister.”
“Why? So we could finish what we started?”
“You’re damned right.”
“That can’t happen.”
Reason jabbed him, pacifying the desire threatening to swallow him. “I know. So the interview with the NCAA?”
Louise blinked. “Oh. It went fine. I told the investigator we ran into each other, had a drink and a dance, and didn’t introduce ourselves beyond first names. She acted like it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, it was an accident, right?”
“Do you still think I bugged your phone or something? My being at that bar was totally incidental. I doubt I would have spoken with you if Mary Jo’s boyfriend hadn’t drooled all over your red high heels.”
“Mary Belle. And I suppose my accusations sounded silly that day at the high school.” She averted her eyes.
He knew the reason why she’d jumped his ass—she’d been embarrassed about the intimacy that had almost happened between them. “Not silly.”
“I don’t usually jump to conclusions, but…”
He chose to ignore the true meaning behind her actions. Anger. Fear. Shame.
“The recruiting process is hard on the whole family.” It was something from his standard speech to parents, but somehow it sounded empty when he said it to Louise. “It’s okay to ask questions and let the recruiter know if you feel uncomfortable.”
She nodded and silence fell between them like the dappled sunlight on the scrubby grass where they stood.
Finally she looked up at him, her blue eyes so guarded, so wary of him, he nearly flinched. “Is that all you needed?”
Desire sucker punched him in the gut. Hell no, that’s not all he needed. He needed her, on her back, hair spread out like that night under the moonlight. He needed to kiss her, love her, make her more than a recruit’s sister.
He studied her in the afternoon light. The curve of her cheek begged to be stroked. Her blond hair looked soft, silky and all tha
t stuff commercials told women their hair should be. Her neck was delicate and had a place his lips needed to explore. And her eyes, yeah, he could get lost in them. Now he saw why all those dead poets wrote sonnets about a woman’s beauty. Now he understood.
He cleared his throat. “Just wanted to make sure our stories meshed because you and I both know it was more than that.”
“Forget it, Abram.”
“It’s not easy though, is it? Bet you’ve thought about it, too.”
“Too?” she echoed, her blue eyes growing soft. She blinked again and straightened. “We have to stop thinking about what could have been. This isn’t about us. It’s about Waylon. His future. My future.”
“Your future?”
“Not with you. I don’t mean—” She held up a hand. “What I mean is I have plans for my life outside of driving a front-end loader. When Waylon and Lori graduate, I will be able to move on and pursue my dreams. Understand? It’s not just about Waylon. It’s about all of us moving forward by making good choices.”
He shook his head and pressed his lips together. Damn it. Life wasn’t fair, was it? Set a prize before a man and slap his hands for reaching.
Maybe Abram needed to get out more. Go on a date. Call Alison and ask her to dinner. To a movie. To his bed. He had to be feeling all moony-eyed over Louise because he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year. That did things to a guy. Made them obsess about golden beauties. About taking their hair down so it spilled across their shoulders. About unhooking a plain white functional bra and tasting sweet plump flesh. About sliding down no doubt equally functional panties and teaching all about the pleasures of the flesh.
“Stop looking at me like that before someone sees,” she said, scanning the area around them.
Abram smiled. Yeah, he needed to pay better attention to his social calendar. He was semierect standing outside a smelly men’s dormitory. What the hell was wrong with him? “Guess you shouldn’t look so damn sexy, Louise.”
“See? That right there. Don’t say those things to me.”
“It must be the heat or something,” he said, more to himself than her. “Sorry.”
Her face held a sort of longing and at that moment, he knew she felt the same way. Regretful. Needing more, but knowing it couldn’t happen. “I should go help Waylon. He hates when I baby him, but if I don’t get the fitted sheet on that bed, he’ll settle for sleeping on one of those gross mattresses.”
“You’re good to him, Lou.”
She stopped in the middle of her turn toward the side door. “You called me ‘Lou.’”
“Probably better if I think of you that way, huh? But in my mind, you’ll always be my honky-tonk Cinderella.” He brushed by her, heading back toward the dorm.
She followed him, not meeting his eyes as she stepped through the door he held open. He couldn’t help himself, he took a deep breath, inhaling her sweet scent. He’d store it in his mind. Memorize it. Take it with him—
Then she looked up at him with beautiful blue eyes filled with remorse. The regret pricked him like a bramble, tangling and wrapping around him, not letting go. For the second time in the last few months, he acted out of character because maintaining who he’d always been took a backseat to touching Louise one more time.
For some reason, nothing else mattered.
“Ah, hell,” he muttered, grabbing her elbow as he twisted the emergency stairwell doorknob behind him.
“Abram,” Lou said, tripping over his foot. He didn’t let her fall. Instead, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her against him, capturing her mouth with his as the door clicked shut.
Her protest died as he slid a hand around to cup the back of her head. The feel of her hands wrapping around his shoulders felt like a third and long conversion. She opened her mouth and kissed him in return and it sucked him right back to that night on the dock.
Magical.
And Abram Dufrene was hungry for that particular magic in his life—and he wanted it with Louise Boyd.
She broke the kiss and looked up at him, her lips wet and doubly tempting. “What just happened?”
He tipped his forehead to touch hers and sighed.
She closed her eyes.
“Lou?”
Her eyes opened. They looked as naked as before and he saw all she desired deep inside them. “What?”
“When this is over and if you are not with someone, will you think about the concept of us?”
A storm of emotions marched across her face, and a few seconds ticked off before she pulled his arms from around her waist. She tilted her head and studied the empty stairwell towering above them. “This isn’t a wanting-me-because-you-can’t-have-me sort of thing, is it?”
He shook his head. “Nah. It’s a wanting you because we’ve got something more between us than your brother. This started before Waylon.”
Her eyes met his and he willed her to feel what he felt.
“I know you want more, but it’s not mine to give right now.”
“I’m not talking now. I’m talking later.”
She nodded. “Okay. Maybe when this clears we’ll see where we are.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded and pushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes with a trembling hand. “But for now, it has to be business only.”
“Business only,” he repeated, stepping back. Damn it, he shouldn’t have kissed her. It was like eating a potato chip. Can’t have just one. His mind told him to stop. But his heart didn’t listen, just dragged his intentions behind, kicking and screaming. He’d never understood when people screwed up their lives because they’d acted with something other than their heads.
Now he did.
And it was going to be damn hard to uphold “business only” with Lou.
“Go find Waylon and Lori. I’m walking a flight up where I’ll hopefully clear my mind and stop acting so irrationally.” He started climbing the stairs.
“Hey, Abram?” Her voice echoed in the corridor.
He glanced down at where she stood with her arms wrapped around herself.
“I really wish you’d had a condom that night,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the fire hose curled near the door.
He closed his eyes and then heard the door slam shut.
* * *
LOU TRIED TO DROWN OUT Lori’s soft snores as she drove back to Bonnet Creek in the waning light of the day. They’d stopped at the Mall of Louisiana before grabbing some nachos at a local Mexican place. Lori had gorged herself on chips and salsa and now happily clutched a new book about a werewolf or a grim reaper or some other creature haunting the night as she dozed beside Lou in the passenger seat.
Lou didn’t know how her sister read about vampires and goblins and still managed to sleep so soundly every night. Lou liked viscounts and fancy carriages. Come to think of it, she’d always secretly been a Cinderella kind of girl.
And to one man, she was a honky-tonk version.
Her heart thumped as she thought of his words. Think about later. The concept of us.
She’d wanted to say yes. Wanted to admit she wanted that man more than she wanted chocolate doughnuts when she was PMSing. Oh, heck, not even close. She wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted. So how was she supposed to proceed from this point on? Pretending there was nothing between them?
It couldn’t truly be business only if she wanted to lick his stomach and wrap her legs around his waist, indulging in every naughty fantasy she’d had regarding something she’d never done.
So all she could do was cling to those sweet stolen moments—moments of magic beneath stars, inside stairwells. Okay, kissing in the stairwell of an athletic dorm hadn’t been romantic, but dancing on that rickety wood pier under the light of the moon had likely been the most romantic moment of her life.
How sad was that?
And she’d tried to forget about him. Really, really tried. In fact after she’d called Mary Belle last week, she’d actually gone out to a club in Lafa
yette. And she’d danced with a couple of guys. And she’d let one guy kiss her even though he’d tasted like cigarettes and talked about Jersey Shore a lot.
Damn it. She had tried.
But living the single life hadn’t been as fun as it had once sounded, and after the third time they played Lady Antebellum, she was ready to go back to her romance books and Iron Chef.
The irony struck her because for years she’d yearned for what she’d missed out on in life. Had resented what had happened to her that Thursday afternoon when she’d been a very normal eighteen-year-old.
When the sheriff met her at the door.
She’d just finished hammering out an article for the last newspaper of the year—the senior edition. As the head cheerleader of the Bonnet Creek Owls, she’d been in charge of the sports pages. The article had been on senior All-District players in all sports offered at the AA school. She’d been wearing cutoffs and a Hooters T-shirt—the favorite joke around her school. She remembered being annoyed as she walked to the door because her mother was supposed to proof the article before Lou sent it to the school newspaper advisor. Then her dad was going to teach her the chords for a Clapton piece she’d been struggling with. They were both late in getting home from their new enterprise—an aerial transport company that also did photography for oil and gas companies. Her parents had bought the plane only six months before, using all their savings to launch the dream company.
But everything had changed when the sheriff met her at the front door.
“Hey, Lou.” She saw the flickering emotions in his watery eyes and knew what he was about to say. “I don’t really know how to say this, honey, but there’s been an accident with your folks.”
And with that sentence, Louise Boyd’s world had flipped over. Suddenly, she was in charge of her brother and sister, two kids who cried every night for two weeks for their mom and dad. Everything she thought was important faded into the background. No more planning the party after graduation. She couldn’t go. No more marking up catalogues for bedding for her dorm room at Ole Miss. She couldn’t go. No hanging out with her best friends at the lake on the weekends. She couldn’t go. Not without two kids—one of whom couldn’t swim—a bottle of sunscreen, floaties and a box of bandages for her accident-prone brother.