No Time Like Mardi Gras

by Kimberly Lang

  “True.” She fiddled with the beads around her neck, seemingly torn. “But would it be safe to go by myself? This may be my first Mardi Gras, but I have heard stories and I’m not stupid.”

  That did show good sense. “Well, you’re sober, so that increases your safety exponentially right there. And you’d only need to go about two or three blocks on well-populated streets in the middle of the day, so I think you’d be all right. There’s a lot of people, but there’s also a lot of police around. If it was dark and you were planning on wandering the Quarter alone, I’d say differently.”

  “I don’t know.” He could hear the indecision in her voice, the desire to go somewhere else battling with the common sense not to wander about alone in a strange city. “When I was a teenager, my mother used to tell me that it wasn’t me she didn’t trust, it was the situation.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “And if there was ever an untrustworthy situation, this would probably be it.”

  “Want me to go with you?” It wasn’t until Jamie’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline in shock that he realized what he’d said. The offer had just come out of nowhere, without forethought, and he was almost as shocked as Jamie that he’d even made it. But he couldn’t just let her sit here when it was such an easy thing to fix.

  Jamie was quick to recover, though. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure you have other plans today.”

  He realized that was almost as suave of an invitation as she could get from any number of random dudes on the street. She’d just said she wasn’t stupid, and her refusal—as polite as it was—showed it.

  But he was oddly disappointed. He’d known her for all of five minutes—and without Teddy’s intervention he wouldn’t have known her at all—but being shot down like that still stung, no matter how much sense it made. And it wasn’t as if it would help to mention that she’d be perfectly safe with him; he was pretty sure most serial killers professed what nice guys they were, too.

  “I have no other plans,” that much was almost true “and I’d be happy to go with you for a while and walk you back here when you’ve seen enough.”

  He could tell Jamie was really tempted. She was clearly bored out of her mind here and desperate to do something else, but he understood her hesitation at wandering off with a guy she’d just met. He’d kill his sister if she ever did exactly what he was suggesting to Jamie. At the same time, he was growing more and more interested in her and actually wanted her to accept his offer.

  Then the band hit a particularly discordant note, and Jamie winced. That seemed to shake her out of her indecision. She tapped her friend on the shoulder. “Kelsey, give me your phone.”

  The blonde turned around for the first time. “What? Why?” she asked as she handed it over.

  Jamie held it up in his direction. “Smile.”

  Caught off guard, he did, and Jamie took his picture.

  “Kelsey, this is Colin. He’s a bartender here.” Jamie was typing into the phone as she spoke, but Kelsey sized him up and smiled at him appreciatively. Then Jamie looked at him again. “Last name?”

  This didn’t make a lot of sense, but he answered anyway. “Raine.”

  “R-A-I-N?”

  “E,” he added automatically.

  “Thanks.” She handed the phone back to her friend. “Colin and I are going up to Canal to watch the parade.”

  Kelsey gave Jamie a look and a smirk. “Really, now? How interesting.” The innuendo in her voice all but had them doing it in an alley fifteen minutes from now.

  Jamie frowned back at her. “I’ll meet you back here later. I’ve got my phone with me, so send me a text if you go somewhere else.”

  Kelsey gave Jamie a big smile and then winked at him suggestively. He wasn’t unaccustomed to having women flirt with him, but that wink bordered on tawdry and made him feel a little dirty. “Y’all have fun.”

  Jamie stood. Until now, he’d only seen her from the waist up, but that white T-shirt tucked into a pair of cutoffs exposing tanned legs and firm thighs. She wasn’t tall, maybe only chin height on him, but everything was perfectly proportioned.

  So far he had no real reason to regret his impromptu and unexpected invitation.

  Then Jamie grinned at him, her excitement clearly evident and surprisingly contagious to someone who should have been long immune to the parades. “Let’s go.”

  Chartres Street wasn’t completely packed, but it was busy, requiring Jamie to stay close as he helped guide her through the throng. “What was that about?” he asked.

  She turned to look at him, mild confusion wrinkling her forehead. “What was what about?”

  “The phone. The photo.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “Just in case I go missing, Kelsey has your photo and name to give to the police,” she answered matter-of-factly. “This may not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t have to be completely stupid about it either.”

  Bold but cautious. Funny and smart. He put a hand on her back as he shouldered through a group gathered under a balcony begging beads from the people above.

  Nope, no regrets at all.

  * * *

  I, Jamie Vincent, am a complete idiot. Her biography, if it were ever written, would carry the title But It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time.

  She was alone, in a still-strange city, during one of the biggest street parties in the world, with a man she’d met ten minutes ago as her only guide.

  But Colin didn’t seem creepy or shady—he hadn’t triggered any of her internal alarms—and it was broad daylight. She was sober, he was sober and there were, quite literally, thousands of people and police around. Surely it was safe enough to just watch a parade. Hell, Kelsey was so infatuated with David, she wasn’t exactly holding up her end of the buddy system anyway.

  She couldn’t even get angry about it, either. Kelsey was just someone who’d agreed to rent her a room when she answered Kelsey’s ad. They weren’t exactly besties or anything. Kelsey didn’t owe her a good time, because Jamie was technically infringing on her Mardi Gras celebration to start with.

  If I end up dead in a Dumpster, I’ll have only myself to blame.

  She had a basic map of New Orleans in her head, but she’d only been here two whole days—and she’d spent most of that just trying to get settled in—so it was patchy at best. Chartres would cross Canal and become Camp, and Camp would get her home. That much she knew. As long as she stayed on the main streets, she shouldn’t get too lost or turned around.

  The crowds got thicker as they approached Canal, and she found herself pressed closer to Colin. That wasn’t exactly a bad thing, she admitted to herself. Amid the general smell of stale beer and teeming masses of people, Colin smelled nice—like clean laundry. Plus, Colin had a rather nice body to be pressed against—athletic, but not muscle-bound. A girl could do much worse.

  “Here, hold my hand.”

  The instruction startled her, and she looked up at him. Colin grinned as he held out his hand. He had a great smile that caused little crinkles at the corners of bright blue eyes. A shock of dark hair—just long enough to curl around his ears, as if he was a few weeks late for a haircut—was held back from his face by the sunglasses perched on his head.

  Goodness, he was just damn pretty.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to hold hands.

  The sentiment must have showed on her face, because Colin laughed as he cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not trying to get fresh. I just don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

  It was a fair enough statement, but before she could reply, he flashed her another lady-killer grin. “Either that, or you could just stick your hands in my back pockets.”

  Without thinking, her eyes flicked down to the pockets in question, and damn, did he have to have a cute butt, too? That was tempting. Way t
oo tempting.

  For safety’s sake, his first idea was probably the best one.

  Jamie put her hand in his and Colin’s fingers threaded through hers, bringing them palm to palm. His hands were warm, the grip firm but not painful, and there was one brief ridiculous moment where she was sure her skin tingled like the heroine’s in some romance novel.

  She almost wished he would get fresh.

  No!

  But he’s so cute.

  Down, girl. Have we learned nothing?

  She had. And the lesson had been painful enough to ensure she wouldn’t forget it.

  She continued to tell herself that as she was hauled up against Colin’s side, their clasped hands pressed against his chest as he maneuvered through the crowd. Jamie just did her best to keep up.

  Colin finally stopped near a streetlamp. “This should be good. Rex will come this way, but the trucks turn the other way up Canal, so to see them, you’ll have to go up a few blocks.”

  Although crowds lined the barriers on both sides of the street, there was no sign of a parade. “So where is it?”

  “Ah, timing can be a tricky thing. You never really know how long it will take for the parade to get to a specific spot. There are delays, the floats break down, you name it. But this—” he gestured to the crowd around them “—is part of the experience, too.”

  “So we wait?”

  “We wait. Do you want a drink or anything?” When she shook her head, Colin sat and leaned back against the lamppost.

  Although there was no telling how nasty the sidewalk might be, Jamie sat as well. She felt a little awkward now, this good idea faltering a bit as she tried to decide how to make small talk with a stranger—regardless of how pretty he might be. One thing she’d never been very good at was cocktail party chitchat.

  Thankfully, though, Colin didn’t seem to have the same problem. “Is this your first time in New Orleans?”

  “No.” She’d been down here a few years ago with Joey for a game before he’d moved up to the majors. Before everything had gotten crazy and gone to hell. But there was no way she was going to mention that. “It was a very short trip, though, on business with my boyfriend, so I didn’t have much time to explore.”

  That eyebrow went up again. “Boyfriend?”

  “Ex,” she clarified.

  Colin winked at her. “That’s good to know.”

  Was that flirting or just charm? It was so hard to tell. She’d been out of the game for so long she didn’t remember how to play. And she certainly didn’t know how to respond. Joey had been the jealous type—possessive, actually, she amended with hindsight—so her flirting skills were rusty from disuse. Maybe she should delay even easing back into this.

  Colin stretched long, tanned legs out and got comfortable. “So, where’s home?”

  Oh, it was going to be tough, though.

  “South Carolina,” she answered automatically, dragging her attention from those nice calf muscles. As he nodded, she realized that she’d just led Colin to believe that she was only in New Orleans for a short visit. Still, the statement wasn’t entirely false. South Carolina was home, even if she didn’t live there anymore and hadn’t for a while. She’d followed Joey to five different cities and they’d never felt like home, and while she was here now, New Orleans didn’t feel like home yet, either. So it wasn’t entirely a false statement, and considering the circumstances, it probably wasn’t a bad thing to let Colin keep that misunderstanding for now. She didn’t trust herself not to flirt herself right into trouble accidentally. And since he could be an ax murderer for all she really knew, some vagueness about her living situation was probably wise. “And you?”

  “Born and raised right here in New Orleans.”

  “A real ragin’ Cajun, huh?”

  His mouth twisted as if something was funny. “Something like that.”

  Oh, she just needed to slap a warning label right across his forehead. A good-looking, charming, self-professed ragin’ Cajun bartender who just happened to have no plans on Fat Tuesday other than to escort a woman around... Oh, the dangers were piling up, and Jamie knew she should just cut and run. But, oh... She could feel her libido crank its engine. Talk about her own personal Kryptonite. It was what had attracted her to Joey in the first place—a slightly rough-around-the-edges underdog with a big dream and charm to spare.

  Really? This is how you’re going to start out?

  It had been her downfall before; it would be stupid to repeat the experience.

  But maybe just for today?

  How much trouble could she get into, really? It wouldn’t be anything serious, just one day to enjoy herself before the new life kicked in. It made sense—Mardi Gras was supposed to be the big decadent party before the austerity of Lent. One last day before life got real again. Hell, she couldn’t even assume he’d stick around longer than this parade anyway. They were talking about an hour or so, max. What harm could really come of it?

  It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, she had a cute, seemingly nice enough guy to talk to, and she was in the middle of a crowd that just wanted to have a good time. She felt free, powerful, in charge of her own life again.

  She really couldn’t ask for more, could she?

  She deserved a break. After everything she’d dealt with—the pain, the shame, the complete destruction of her life—she’d earned this Fat Tuesday and all the decadent fun it could bring her.

  She could have today, by God.

  The noise level had been increasing steadily, and now music floated over the top of the roar. It kept her from having to respond.

  Colin pushed to his feet. “Here it comes.” He extended a hand to help her up. She was still justifying everything to herself as Colin hauled her up and stationed himself behind her as the crowd pushed forward toward the street and the barricades.

  His chest was broad and hard against her back, and one hand came to rest easily and naturally on her hip as he leaned forward to tell her something. He was wearing shorts, like she was, and she could feel the hair on his legs tickling her calves and thighs. She totally missed whatever it was he was trying to say.

  “What?”

  “Don’t reach down if anything hits the ground. You’ll get your hands stomped.”

  What the hell were they throwing off these floats? Diamonds? She twisted around to look at him. “Over cheap plastic beads?”

  “Yep.”

  “Seriously?”

  Colin laughed, patting her hip as he did. It left a nice residual tingle. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. Look, there’s Rex.”

  Jamie strained up on tiptoe, craning her neck to see. Wow. She’d heard these parades were amazing, and she’d expected something really cool, but this.... A massive gilded throne, ornate costumes with feathers and men on horseback in matching courtier outfits with satin pantaloons...just wow.

  She jumped up and down to get a better view, accidentally bumping against Colin’s chin in the process.

  “Can you not see?” he asked. She shook her head and tried to use his shoulder as a boost when she jumped this time. A second later, she felt hands on her legs and the whisper of hair against her thighs. She jumped for real this time.

  Colin was crouched behind her. “Come on. Climb up.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, and she felt the broad base of his shoulders pressing against the backs of her thighs as Colin’s head dipped between her knees. Then she was up over the crowd—with an amazing view of the parade—with Colin holding her as though she weighed nothing at all. He shrugged to get her settled, and she quickly wrapped her legs behind his back to anchor herself.

  “Better?” he shouted up.

  She was still reeling from the fact his head was now between her thighs and a rather personal bit of her anatomy was now pressed against
the nape of his neck. Funny how she’d never noticed the inappropriateness of this position until just now. “Yeah,” she answered, but it sounded a little weak even to her own ears. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy?”

  “Oh, please. I can barely tell you’re up there.”

  “Now what do I do?”

  Colin tilted his head way back, nearly sending her toppling over before she corrected by leaning forward, and grinned at her again. “Catch whatever comes your way. And no matter what you’ve seen on TV, don’t flash the riders for beads,” he cautioned. “You’ll get us both arrested.”

  “Flash them—?” she began, but she was cut off when something hit her right in the face.

  She caught it reflexively and a strand of green-and-gold beads dangled from her fingers.

  “Good job,” Colin said, patting her knee. “Now put them on.” She looped them over her head as a shower of beads began to rain down from the floats.

  Colin caught a few, but for the most part, he kept his arms locked around her legs to keep her stable as she quickly got the hang of it. Occasionally, she’d loop a set over his head until he began to look a bit like a cheap Technicolor Mr. T.

  There were marching bands, more elaborate costumes, ornate floats—just an ongoing stream of tacky, over-the-top opulence. And Jamie loved every minute of it. She’d had no idea she was such a sucker for a parade, and the crowd’s enthusiasm was contagious. This was so much better than sitting at the Lucky Gator listening to a crappy band play, and she finally understood the allure of the street party.

  This was simply freakin’ awesome.

  Colin kept pointing out details and providing backstory, acting as her own private Mardi Gras guide and tutor. When a float broke down, bringing the parade to a halt, Colin got her a beer from a street vendor and then danced with her to a high school marching band’s rendition of “Louie, Louie” before putting her back on his shoulders for the last few floats. She was sad to see the final one go by.

  As the crowd began to pull back a little, Colin set her on her feet for the last time.