No Time Like Mardi Gras

by Kimberly Lang

  Rising up onto her tiptoes again, she kissed his cheek, surprising them both. “That was so much fun. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Want me to walk you back to the bar?”

  Jamie fished her phone out of her pocket. No message from Kelsey, so she was probably still there listening to David’s band mangle another classic, and she didn’t really want to go back now, anyway.

  Colin must have picked up on her mood. “Or we could head a couple of blocks up the street and watch the next one?”

  A happy glow settled in her stomach. “I think I’d like that. A lot, actually.”

  To her surprise, he seemed genuinely pleased with her answer. He held out his hand. “Then let’s go.”

  This time, she didn’t think twice about taking it.

  Let the good times roll.

  TWO

  They ate muffulettas bought from a food cart near Woldenberg Park as the sun went down. Jamie didn’t really care for the olives, but she wasn’t complaining. About anything.

  Today hadn’t been what she’d expected—who could have expected this?—and if anyone had tried to tell her she’d have one of the best days of her life at a street party with a guy she barely knew, she’d have laughed in their face.

  Colin wadded up the wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it into an already overflowing garbage can. New Orleans was a beautiful place, but it was definitely worse for wear today, with garbage littering the streets and a pervasive odor of stale beer, sweat and something else she didn’t even want to try to identify. She could relate, though. Like the city, she wasn’t exactly fresh as a daisy now either, but she was still thrumming with energy and excitement and the desire for a good time.

  She might just come to love New Orleans.

  That might not be a good thing.

  “Your nose is turning pink,” Colin said.

  Jamie wrinkled it experimentally and felt the tightness. “Great. I’m going to have a clown nose.”

  “Cutest clown ever.” He reached out a finger and touched it gently, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Does it hurt?”

  The proximity, the gentle touch, the concern in his voice...Jamie’s throat felt tight and that tingly anticipation slid up through her stomach again. “No. Not yet,” she managed to get out.

  He nodded and traced a finger along her cheekbone. “You’re a little pink here, too.”

  Colin was killing her. There’d been flirting all day, the friendly, teasing kind that danced along the line but never went over it, leaving her wondering if it was just his personality or genuinely directed at her. She’d scraped the rust off her own flirting skills and given it her best, but the results were unsatisfying—in multiple ways. She had no idea if she was having any effect on him at all, and if not, was it from lack of interest on his part or lack of skill on hers?

  She’d been touching him for hours—even once wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing against his back as they went through a particularly dense crowd—but she wanted to really touch him. She’d found herself staring at his lips, her mouth gone dry and her stomach fluttering, but Colin never made the move. Even when he touched her—a hand on her back to guide her, holding her hand in the crowd, even once wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close and protectively when a couple of drunk guys got a little too rowdy—it hadn’t been more than what she’d expect from any male friend. It bordered on brotherly, for God’s sake.

  And it was completely, absolutely killing her.

  Surely Colin wouldn’t spend this much time with a woman he didn’t feel some attraction to? This might have started out as a step above a pity date, but he could have gone his own way at any time. The fact that he hadn’t gave her hope.

  If this was some kind of game, he was playing her like a pro, but it didn’t feel like a game, and that both pleased and concerned her. Because if she was being played, she was falling for it, hook, line and sinker, and she couldn’t stop herself if she wanted to. And she wasn’t sure she really wanted to anyway.

  But if Colin didn’t make a move on her soon, she was going to launch herself at him like a penis-seeking missile, probably humiliating them both at the same time.

  She drained the last of her beer, wishing she had a few more in her system—just enough to cause her to lose the inhibition that kept her from acting on the ideas running wild and free through her mind.

  But no, she’d just had to be somewhat responsible today.

  Just enjoy this for what it is. Don’t ruin it by making a complete fool of yourself.

  She was probably misreading the situation anyway. Maybe this was just some New Orleans tradition she was unaware of—a local interpretation of Southern hospitality: find a bored tourist and show her a good time.

  And hadn’t she proven—conclusively—that she was really bad at reading people, unable to even pick up on the glaringly obvious, much less the subtle? She wouldn’t even be here if she had the ability to judge people correctly. At the same time, she was still glad she was.

  So this was a nightmare—an oddly pleasant and exciting nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.

  Colin’s finger moved away. “Yep, definitely a few new freckles, too.”

  Sweet mercy. She was in such a mind-versus-libido turmoil time was practically standing still while it was grinding away. Not that those frozen moments in time were necessarily a bad thing...

  She took a deep breath, but Colin’s phone rang before she could say anything. He took it out, glanced at the screen and sent the call to voice mail, but not before she had the chance to see the smiling face of a very attractive woman on the screen. “Feel free to answer that,” she said as casually as possible.

  He shook his head. “It’s just Elise. One of our friends is having a party today, and she probably just wants to know where I am.”

  “Oh.” She forced herself to smile instead of asking who Elise was.

  As if he could read her mind, Colin offered, “Elise is my baby sister, by the way.”

  She had to fight not to show relief in that news. “Well, if you need to go, then don’t let me keep you.” She tried to sound casual about it. “You’ve been great to show me around, and it’s been really fun.” She fished her own phone out and checked Kelsey’s last message. “Kelsey and David are barhopping, and I can go catch up with them.”

  Colin lifted an eyebrow at her. “I’ll take you back to your friends now, if that’s what you want.”

  “God, no.” Jamie stopped and cleared her throat. She toyed with her watch, trying to look nonchalant. “I mean, I’m having a good time with you, but I really do understand if you want to...”

  He leaned back on his elbows in the grass and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Do I look like someone who’s in a hurry to go somewhere else?”

  She felt herself smile and just hoped it wasn’t too goofy-looking. “I guess not.”

  Colin rolled slightly toward her. “So what do you want to do now?”

  A dozen images jumped immediately to mind, and she gritted her teeth to keep from describing them in detail. “I guess we could go back to the Quarter? After all you’ve said about it, I’m kinda curious to see the insanity for myself.”

  He looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

  No, but you’re not giving me better options. “Isn’t it part of the full Mardi Gras experience?”

  “Oh, honey, it’s an experience all its own.” He leaned all the way back, stacking his hands behind his head. Turning his head toward her, he arched an eyebrow. “You think you can handle it?”

  That was a tad insulting. “Of course I can handle it. Why would you think I couldn’t?”

  “It’s way outside your comfort zone.”

  “You know nothing about my comfort zone,” she protested.

 
“You blushed when that drunk guy propositioned you, and he wasn’t even that graphic about it.”

  That was true, but the blush hadn’t come from the guy’s proposition. She’d been hoping Colin would make her that offer, and that was what had made her blush. “It simply caught me off guard.” She tried to add an airy wave, but accidentally caught one of the many, many beads around her neck in the clasp of her watch instead, and had to take a moment to untangle herself.

  “There will be nudity, adult situations, suggestive language...”

  “So it’s an X-rated event,” she interrupted. “I’m a grown woman and this is the internet age, you know. I don’t think I’m that shockable.”

  That earned her a smile. “Then let’s do it.” He rolled to his feet and brushed the grass off before extending a hand to help her up. The crowds weren’t quite as thick here, so Colin didn’t take her hand—sadly—but he did put his hand on the small of her back again to guide her. She was so primed, even that simple touch was downright torture.

  The wind off the river blew the hair that had escaped her braid into her eyes as they walked, but the breeze felt good.

  She’d chosen New Orleans as her new hometown almost on a whim. It was far enough away to be a fresh start, but it also seemed like the kind of vibrant, exciting place where a person could truly reinvent herself. And after a few Midwest winters, the climate seemed ideal.

  She hadn’t had time yet to explore the city, but she was now making a mental list of all the places she wanted to explore sooner rather than later. As they turned toward Jackson Square, all lit up with the cathedral behind it, she began to fall in love. “I can’t wait to see what New Orleans is like when it’s not Mardi Gras.”

  “There’s always something going on,” Colin said, “but it’s not always crazy like this. It’s a good bit cleaner, too,” he added, kicking a plastic cup into the gutter with the other trash.

  “You really love this city, don’t you?” He’d been a walking, talking guidebook all day, and she belatedly realized that it was genuine love and pride for his hometown causing it—not just the need to inform or impress with his knowledge.

  “What’s not to love?” he asked, spreading his arms wide to embrace the city. Directly to his left, a college-age girl was loudly being sick into a garbage can. “Well, except for that,” he corrected and steered her away.

  The crowds were getting thicker and Colin reached for her hand as they moved farther into the Quarter. This time, though, he pulled her in front of him, letting his arm cross her chest like a seat belt, pressing her against his chest and tucking a hand into the back waistband of her shorts. “Whatever you do, don’t let go of me. I’ll never find you in this crowd.”

  Jamie just wanted to lean against him for awhile—maybe rub a little against that chest—but Colin was pushing her forward into the mass of people on St. Peter’s Street. She didn’t think it would be possible, but the crowd got even denser as they crossed Royal, edging closer to Bourbon Street and the epicenter of all things.

  Oh, the internet had not prepared her for this. She’d been expecting costumes, and she wasn’t disappointed. Most of them weren’t as elaborate as those worn in the parades, but some did try with large amounts of feathers and rhinestones. The closer they got to Bourbon, however, the smaller the costumes got—leaving elaborate behind in favor of exposure.

  There was a man wearing nothing more than a strategically placed jester’s hat and harlequin face paint walking with a man in a crown and a cape who displayed a very long...um...scepter. A man on stilts wearing lingerie and a feathered mask. And the women—she’d never seen so many breasts before, either exposed as a part of the costume or simply bared in order to be showered with beads. Every body shape and type was on display, and she had to have a bit of respect for the people with enough self-confidence to let it all hang out like that—literally.

  Jamie hadn’t led a sheltered life, but she had lived a rather circumspect one. She’d been a good girl from a nice middle-class family; there simply hadn’t been much trouble for her to get in to. She’d flirted with rebellion in college, but then she’d met Joey, who had always worked so hard to keep his public image squeaky clean, to be the kind of player that kids would look up to and their parents would be glad for it. It had been one of the things she’d loved about him—even if she now knew it was all a lie—and she’d been happy to adjust her expectations accordingly. So while Joey had been doing a lot of wild partying—along with other things—behind her back, she’d never been a part of that lifestyle. Now her eyes felt as if they were bugging out of her head.

  She heard Colin chuckle in her ear. “I tried to warn you.”

  “I’m amazed, but you can hold off on the smelling salts.” She twisted around to look at him. “This is unbelievable, though. Is it legal to get naked like that?”

  Colin shrugged. “Public nudity is illegal, but on Bourbon Street—especially this time of year—as long as you’re not causing a ruckus, you’re probably safe from arrest.”

  “I guess the police have plenty of bigger fish to fry today.”

  “Exactly.”

  Their progress through the crowd had been slow but steady, giving Jamie the opportunity to look around and absorb all she could, but then they got caught in a raucous pack parked under a balcony.

  She’d seen women flashing their breasts from the balconies above and expected this to be more of the same. But she looked up to see a couple embracing quite passionately for their audience. The man had his hand under the woman’s shirt and her leg was hooked around his waist. When the people below began shouting both encouragement and suggestions, the couple began to incorporate the suggestions into their tableau.

  Jamie felt her jaw go slack. While she’d never been much of a voyeur before, it was somehow impossible not to watch. It was simultaneously tawdry and erotic, and in this sexually charged atmosphere, its effect on the crowd was electric.

  And Jamie wasn’t immune to the effect. She found herself leaning back into Colin a little too much, craving his smell and his heat. She couldn’t help herself.

  Colin wasn’t unaffected by this either, and the fingers that held her waistband seemed to move gently against her back like a caress. Colin’s fingers tightened around hers. She returned the squeeze.

  Her knees went a little weak and she sagged against him as he exhaled near her ear, and the warmth of his breath caused gooseflesh to rise on her neck.

  The noise and the lights and the crowd surrounding her seemed to disappear as Colin’s thumb traced circles against her palm. Her free hand came to rest on the outside of his thigh, and she felt the muscles under the fabric tighten.

  Then the crowd moved, sending the guy in front of her staggering backward to bump into her. Drunk and rowdy, he took it as an introduction and made a descriptive suggestion to her.

  Before she could do more than gasp, Colin had released her hand and pushed the guy back with a very succinct suggestion of his own. And while her erstwhile admirer was fueled by testosterone and copious amounts of alcohol, Colin stood a full head taller and several inches wider. The man’s friends wisely pulled him back.

  Colin shoved the rest of the way through the crowd and back into the street, where the people were at least moving. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Although he’d pulled her back against him, the moment had been ruined, and Jamie felt her cheeks burning. She’d been caught in a slow simmer all afternoon, but the overcharged, overindulged raunchiness around her made that moment under the balcony feel slightly tawdry now. She wanted out of the Quarter and back to the earlier mood. “I think I’ve seen—”

  She gasped as a blonde in a very small tank top stumbled over her own feet and the drink in her hand landed all over Jamie. Something slushy and pink covered most of her shoulders and chest, and icy rivulets slid down her cle
avage. Against the heat and humidity, the cold and wet drink initially felt refreshing, but Jamie’s eyes watered from the alcohol fumes even as it soaked through her shirt and bra to her skin, replacing that refreshing feeling with clammy stickiness.

  The girl mumbled an apology, but she seemed more upset by the loss of her drink than the fact that Jamie was now wearing it. The way the girl was weaving, the loss of alcohol was probably a blessing, although Jamie didn’t doubt she’d get a refill quickly enough.

  Colin took a look at her and shook his head. “Have you had enough of the Quarter now?”

  Wet, sticky and still reeling from that earlier moment, she gritted out, “Very much so.”

  Colin surveyed the damage. “Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

  That didn’t seem likely or even possible, and there was something slightly humiliating about the whole thing, but she was now miserable in more ways than she could count, and getting off Bourbon Street seemed like a very good idea regardless. She let Colin lead her through a less crowded back alley she’d never walk into alone, not even for money, and when they emerged on Chartres Street, she realized they were going back to the Lucky Gator.

  She’d come full circle.

  * * *

  He shouldn’t have brought Jamie back into the Quarter—or at the very least, he should have kept her off Bourbon Street. He certainly knew better, even if she didn’t. It was too out of control, with too many people acting like idiots and bordering on dangerous. But there was something about Jamie that made him want to indulge her. She seemed to want to experience everything, give it all at least one try, and she embraced everything with enthusiasm and excitement.

  And he had to admit he was rather hoping she’d indulge him back—hopefully with a bit of that enthusiasm, too. It was getting damn near impossible to keep his hands to himself. What had started off as a lark, a little good deed to show her a good time, had turned into something else. Sure, Jamie was gorgeous and he wasn’t immune to that, but there was also something...refreshing about her as well. Something wholesome and sweet that stood out against the decadence of Mardi Gras and made him see the event through new eyes.