A Better Reason to Fall in Love

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “You’re together all the time, Tabby,” Chloe reminded her. “At work, after work, every weekend.”

  Understanding had washed over Tabby then. She looked to Chloe, suddenly recognizing the true reasons for Chloe’s concerns. It wasn’t that Chloe didn’t like Jagger. It wasn’t even that she thought something might happen between Jagger and Tabby that could be deemed inappropriate. She was just scared—for herself. Chloe was scared of losing Tabby.

  “Chloe,” Tabby began, “is it because we haven’t had as much time together?”

  “What if he’s the one, Tabby?” Chloe asked. Tears were brimming in her eyes. “I mean…if he is, no one will be happier for you than me. Honest! But at the same time, it scares me. What will I do without you?”

  “Chloe,” Tabby began.

  “And besides,” Chloe interrupted, “I’m right to be worried…aren’t I? I mean, he just seems too flawless, Tabby. First of all, he’s gorgeous…and second of all, he’s good at everything. His job. He’s a blues musician, for crying out loud! No guy is that flawless.”

  “I’m sure he’s not flawless, Chloe,” Tabby said.

  “Well, he sure fits your bill to a tee,” Chloe said.

  “But that’s the point,” Tabby said. A sort of strange and sudden comprehension was overtaking her. “It’s like…Armando. He’s handsome—sort of this smoldering Latin lover guy…who wouldn’t interest me in the least. But it’s like he was made for Jocelyn. And look at Naomi! Holy cow! Who would’ve ever thought some dashing, poetry-reciting university professor would just drop out of the sky like that?”

  “He was ripped too,” Chloe added, smiling. She was settling down, and Tabby was encouraged.

  “Even Emmy. Especially Emmy,” Tabby continued. “Emmy’s so…so wild, you know? Yet Luke…Luke can own her through something as simple as a letter. Her passions run really deep, and Luke…he knows it.”

  “Your point here is…” Chloe urged.

  “That whoever you fall in love with…they may seem perfect to you…but they’re really just perfect for you.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows arched, and she shook her head. “I don’t know if I buy that.”

  “Why not?” Tabby asked.

  “Because I think Jagger Brodie is way too hot for his own good,” she said. “And I think he’s zipping you down to New Orleans to…you know…seduce you.”

  “No. He wouldn’t do that,” Tabby said.

  “How can you be so sure? You’ve only been dating him, what…like a month?”

  “I just…I just don’t think he would do that…even if he really felt that way about me.”

  “You don’t, huh?” Chloe asked. “So the fact that you guys bust into making out the first time you’re ever alone together—after talking about Gilligan’s Island, for Pete’s sake—that doesn’t tell you he feels ‘that way’ about you?”

  “He—” Tabby began.

  “Not to mention the whole Kevin Bacon drive-in movie Footloose thing,” Chloe continued. “And now, he wants to take you to New Orleans? Do you know what goes on in that city?”

  “Chloe!” Tabby had exclaimed, taking her sister by the shoulders. She studied Chloe for a moment—the way she was twisting a strand of her strawberry blonde hair, the worry evident in her blue eyes. “I love him. I want to be with him every second of every day! And in the end…I trust him.”

  Yet as the memory of her discussion with Chloe replayed in her mind for the eight hundred eighty-seventh time, Tabby wondered if she really had lost her senses. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jagger to keep his hands to himself. After all, if he’d wanted to press her to further intimacy, he could’ve done that anywhere; he didn’t have to fly her to New Orleans to do it. What really scared Tabby in that moment was the fact that she really was in love with Jagger Brodie—wholly, entirely, irrevocably, desperately, almost insanely in love with him. Thus, what really scared her was to think that maybe Chloe was right—maybe Jagger was too flawless, too good to be true.

  She tried to think of Emmy and Luke, Jocelyn and Armando, and especially Naomi and Professor Lowery. Why should she doubt her own mantra—that anything was possible? Why should she think that the old six degrees of separation theory would work for every one of her friends and then fail her?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Jagger said, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Probably not,” Tabby told him.

  She watched as Jagger tossed his empty plastic cup into the garbage bag the flight attendant offered to him.

  “Thanks,” Jagger said, smiling at the flight attendant.

  “You’re welcome,” the absolutely beautiful flight attendant said. The smile and expression on her face spoke volumes in revealing her thoughts. Tabby knew that if Jagger asked anything of that flight attendant—anything at all—she’d be more than happy to accommodate him.

  The flight attendant moved on, and Jagger leaned over to Tabby and whispered, “You’re thinking, ‘What the hell am I doing?’ That’s what you’re thinking.”

  Tabby couldn’t help but smile.

  “Well, something like that anyway,” she admitted.

  “Don’t you trust me?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she answered. “It’s just that…I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Traveled by plane?” he teased.

  “No,” she giggled.

  “Visited New Orleans?”

  “No.” She playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Been abducted by an impulsive, frog-leg-eating, wannabe blues musician?”

  “Well, no…not that either, actually.”

  Jagger chuckled, taking her hand and lacing fingers with her.

  “Well, do you want me to tell you the truth, sugar petals?” he whispered.

  Tabby smiled, giggled, and felt suddenly more relaxed.

  “What’s that?”

  “Promise you won’t get mad,” he said.

  “Okay,” she promised, though now her curiosity was really piqued.

  “I just…I just want you to myself for a while, you know?” he explained. “I mean, I just want me and you—us—away from the office, away from our friends…your sister, my Maw Maw and cousins.”

  Tabby smiled. “You are trying to seduce me,” she said, caressing his face with her free hand.

  “Baby, if I thought you’d fall for it…I would,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to her mouth. “But I’m serious. Don’t you ever feel kind of…smothered?”

  Tabby’s smile broadened. “All the time,” she admitted.

  He exhaled a heavy sigh, as if he’d been afraid she wouldn’t agree with him.

  “Good. Then you understand. I mean, I still have to do the gig at my uncle’s place. But for the rest of the time, we can just hang out.”

  Tabby giggled. It was a wonderful concept—to spend time with Jagger with little or no interruption—fabulous!

  The flight attendant walked past again, smiling and winking at Jagger.

  “I feel like I’m some rock-star groupie,” Tabby whispered. “Jetting off to New Orleans with a musician…all the chicks throwing themselves at you.”

  Jagger rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Girls are so dumb,” he said. “Look across the aisle to the guy in the seat by the window. He starts to pant with his tongue hanging out whenever he looks at you.”

  “Don’t try to…” Tabby began, glancing to across the aisle. Her words were lost as she saw the man in the seat by the window was, indeed, staring at her. He smiled, and she forced a return smile before looking back to Jagger.

  “Like I said,” he whispered, “girls are so dumb. They never see the guys checking them out. They’re always too worried about the girls who are checking out their guy.”

  “That’s not true,” Tabby whispered. “And besides, here comes your groupie flight attendant again. Hasn’t she already given you, like, seven bags of pretzels?”

  “Well, then…let’s get rid of her and the dude across the
aisle, huh?” he mumbled.

  Tabby smiled as his head descended to hers again—as his hand slid to the back of her neck in an owning caress.

  “Pucker up, sugar petals,” he whispered. “The show is about to begin.”

  Tabby sighed, instantly lost in the wonder of Jagger’s kiss. He wasn’t shy about kissing her publicly either! The warm, moist demand of his mouth was as capable, as mesmerizing, and as thirst-inducing as ever. Tabby loved the feel of his hands as they moved to her face, blissfully bathed in the scent of his skin, the scratch of his whisker stubble around the flesh of her mouth.

  He broke the seal of their lips, pressed his forehead to hers a moment, and breathed, “Jean-Claude Van Damme, you’re hot!”

  Tabby giggled, taking his face between her own hands and placing one last kiss to his warm lips.

  “Nobody else could ever have gotten me to do this, you know,” she told him as he released her face and laced fingers with her again.

  “What? Make out on an airplane?” he teased.

  “Well, that too,” she said, still smiling. “But I meant this…all of this.”

  He chuckled. “Well, if the scholarly Professor Lowery can talk your uptight Naomi pal into getting married in Vegas, anything is possible…even me getting you to come to New Orleans.”

  “I guess so,” Tabby laughed. She shook her head in residual disbelief. “I still can’t believe that one.”

  “It’s wild,” he said.

  “Excuse me,” a man sitting in the seat in front of Tabby said as he turned around and looked back at them. “You’re Jagger Brodie, right?”

  “Yeah,” Jagger answered. Tabby felt his hand tighten where it held hers.

  “I thought so,” the man said. He reached over the seat, offering Jagger his hand. Jagger released Tabby’s hand in order to shake the man’s. “I saw you a couple of months ago at Chiasson’s place in the quarter. You’re awesome, bro!”

  “Thanks,” Jagger said, forcing a grateful smile.

  “The grapevine in the city is sayin’ you got a new contract offer. Are you gonna take this one this time?” the man asked.

  All at once, every ounce of serenity Tabby had been enjoying the moment before was obliterated. A contract? As in a recording contract? Tabby swallowed the anxiety rising in her throat. She wanted Jagger to be happy—she did—even if it meant…

  “I’m just flying out to the city to play at Leon’s place this weekend.” Tabby thought it a rather elusive response to the man’s question. “That’s it.”

  “Man, you’d be crazy not to take it if someone is offerin’,” the man said. “You’re awesome!”

  “Thanks, man,” Jagger said, nodding.

  “What night are you at Chiasson’s?”

  “Tonight,” Jagger answered.

  “Cool.” The man paused, looked to Tabby, and smiled an obviously lustful smile. “You gonna bring the lady along?”

  “If nobody scares her off before then, yeah,” Jagger said. It wasn’t really a threat, and it wasn’t at all rude—just an unspoken signal that the man should mind his own business.

  “Oh, right,” the intrusive man laughed. “I got it.” He winked at Tabby and said, “Well, y’all enjoy your time in the Big Easy. All right?”

  Tabby nodded as Jagger said, “Thanks, man. We will.”

  The man turned around, and Tabby heard Jagger exhale an irritated sigh.

  “You really are a rock star,” she whispered to him, trying to ignore the anxiety hammering in her chest.

  “Did you see the way that dude checked you out?” he growled in a jealous whisper. “I have mind to do some plastic surgery on his face with my fists and—”

  “Shhh,” Tabby breathed, putting a finger to his lips. She reached up, attempting to smooth the scowl from his brow with her fingertips.

  “That guy’s a piece of—”

  “Shhh,” she whispered again, giggling. He was so jealous—and she loved it!

  Jagger shook his head, inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled slowly to calm himself.

  Tabby studied him for a minute, but the anxiety in her had to ask.

  “What’s all this about a contract?” she asked.

  “What?” Jagger asked. “Oh, that. Hell if I know.” He was angry a moment more but then turned to her and smiled. “There’s only one kind of contract that interests me anyway.”

  “What’s that?” Tabby asked.

  He kissed her cheek and said, “The kind that says you’re mine, and only mine, for the whole weekend.”

  Tabby smiled and tried to relax. His eyes were bright with sincerity and a playful sort of mischief.

  “Agreed,” she said.

  “Okay then,” he said. “We have to go to Chiasson’s tonight…you know, ’cause that’s supposedly why I’m here—to play that gig for Uncle Leon. And we’ll have to at least acknowledge my cousin Regina…since we are staying at her bed-and-breakfast. But other than that, I’ll have you all to myself, right?”

  “If that’s what you want,” she said.

  His smile broadened. “Well, I want a lot more than that. But I promised my Maw Maw that I’d behave myself…mostly.”

  Tabby giggled. He was too adorable—too attractive—and she was too in love with him.

  She tried to push the intrusive man’s comments to the back of her mind—tried to keep the words recording contract from running through her mind. She was determined to enjoy her time with Jagger—every minute of it. Still, the doubt was there. Each time the flight attendant smiled at him, each time she thought about how truly gifted a musician he was—about how much he loved his music—that was when doubt would rise in her—doubt that she could make him as happy as fame and money would, doubt that he would even still want her if they found him.

  As they exited the aircraft and began to follow the signs leading to baggage claim, Tabby tried to ignore the fact that three people they passed on the way said hello to Jagger, recognizing him because of his performing.

  “Feels like a greenhouse, huh?” he commented as they waited at the baggage claim carousel.

  “Yeah,” Tabby confirmed. “Smells like one too.”

  “It’s not so bad this time of year,” he said. “But wait ’til July.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “We’ll drive out to Regina’s first,” he said, lifting Tabby’s suitcase from the carousel. She smiled, pleased that he’d been able to pick it out from the other seemingly thousands of black trolley uprights. “Then we’ll take a drive out to the river, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said as he kissed her cheek.

  Jagger snatched his own luggage, and they headed for the car rental section of the airport.

  “This is me taking a big risk, you know,” he told her as they walked across the airport.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  He put a strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

  “You may not like me without all your friends around to remind you I supposedly have a cute butt.”

  Tabby smiled. “You may not like me without all my friends around to remind you that I think you have a cute butt.”

  “Baby, I’ll always like you,” he said. “Can’t you tell that yet?”

  Tabby slipped her arm around his waist as they walked. After all, he’d whisked her away to a romantic weekend in New Orleans, and she was going to enjoy it—no matter what.

  ❦

  “Ooo eee, cousin!” the enormous man exclaimed. “Jagger, how’d you rate this little drop of nectar?”

  Jagger chuckled. “Tabby, this is my cousin Mike…and he’s probably gonna assault you.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” the six foot six uniformed motorcycle cop assured. “Give me some sugar, baby!”

  Tabby giggled as she was suddenly entirely enveloped in the man’s embrace.

  “Mmm mmm!” he said, kissing her cheek as he released her. “Looks like ol’ Jagger has finally come into his own.”

  “You are gonna s
care her off, Mike!”

  A lovely woman with ebony hair and green, green eyes embraced Tabby then.

  “Don’t let Mike intimidate you, honey,” Regina said. “He’s just a big ol’ teddy bear!” Tabby was momentarily struck silent by Regina’s beauty. Her eyes were the same color as Jagger’s, yet the flawless, smooth chocolate of her complexion emphasized them so perfectly that they looked surreal—like sunlit emeralds!

  Tabby smiled, entranced by the woman’s warm accent and soft southern beauty.

  “Mighty yummy, boy!” Mike said, nudging Jagger with one large elbow.

  Regina rolled her eyes as she linked arms with Tabby. “Girl! Let’s leave these naughty men to their lustful ways and get you settled into your room. All right?”

  Tabby looked to Jagger for assurance. He nodded.

  “All right,” she agreed.

  “Maw Maw told me you were somethin’ else,” Regina said as they walked away. “She says Jagger is so far gone on you he ain’t never comin’ up for breath.”

  Tabby blushed, delighted and bashful all at once.

  “Well, I don’t know. He’s pretty…he’s pretty much a dream,” Tabby said.