Taste the Heat

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Taste the Heat Page 5

by Rachel Harris


  “Miss Robicheaux, are you okay?”

  How could Sherry have let her walk into this situation? The whole stupid fling idea had been hers in the first place. Did she honestly not know Jason was married? And how could Colby not notice a ring on his finger? After all the time she’d spent staring at the man’s hands, you’d think she would’ve spotted a significant detail like that. She mindlessly grabbed for her phone in her purse.

  “Miss Robicheaux?” Emma asked again, concern creeping into her voice.

  Colby took a breath and slowly let it out. She held a finger up as she autodialed her sister’s number, sending Emma a thin-lipped smile. This wasn’t the girl’s fault; if anything, she was the victim…or the almost victim.

  On the other end, Sherry’s phone rang and rang before her perky voice picked up. “Hey, it’s me, you know the drill.” Beep.

  “We have to talk,” Colby said through gritted teeth. She ended the call and put her phone back in her purse, turning to give Emma a forced smile.

  “I’m fine, sweetie,” she lied, taking in the young girl’s look of concern. “Just seem to be getting a lot of headaches lately.”

  “Ouch, those suck,” Emma said sympathetically. Then her tiny face lit up. “Hey, since you grew up with Dad, does that mean you knew my mom, too?”

  A vein throbbed behind Colby’s eye. This wasn’t just a migraine. Her head was literally going to explode.

  Turning to cast a longing glance at her awaiting, temperamental Altima, wanting desperately to be anywhere but here, she kept her tight-lipped smile in place and nodded. Now that she knew what she was looking for, the girl’s resemblance to Ashleigh was uncanny. And with Jason, there really was only one person it could be. “Yes I knew her, but not well,” she admitted. “I didn’t even know your parents got married. It must have happened after I moved away.”

  Like, right after, now that she thought about it. Colby tilted her head, quickly doing the math. Emma appeared to be about eleven, maybe twelve years old. That meant she’d been born around the same time Colby had moved to New York for culinary school. She didn’t think Jason was married to Ashleigh when she left, but by then, he and Cane had been at Louisiana Tech in Ruston.

  Emma’s incandescent glow dimmed slightly. Shrugging her thin shoulders she said, “That’s all right. I just love talking to people who knew her, you know? I don’t remember much. I was only seven when she died.”

  It took a moment for the words and their meaning to sink in. Colby was too busy trying to fill in the back-story and plan her current escape route. But when they did, her stomach bottomed out. And she felt about this big.

  Of course Jason wasn’t married. He was a widower. It hadn’t even occurred to her that could be an option. Or even, now that her head was a little clearer, that he could’ve been divorced. She had been so quick to assume the worst about him. To only see the situation through the lens of her past.

  Guilt and compassion washed over her. And even a shade of sorrow for Ashleigh. She hadn’t been close to Jason’s girlfriend; Ashleigh had been older, and she’d been the recipient of the one thing a young Colby wanted more than anything—Jason’s affections. But she never wished harm on the beautiful woman.

  “I’m so sorry,” she told Emma, knowing from experience what little comfort words can really be. Swallowing past the ache in her throat, Colby leaned against the desk and touched Emma’s hand. “It’s never easy when you lose a parent. I lost my mom in a car accident a few years ago.”

  The girl squeezed Colby’s hand and her big brown eyes—eyes that Colby now realized resembled her father’s—filled with sympathy. “And then your dad just a few months ago. Wow, I can’t imagine losing Dad, too. That must be so sad.” Her gentle squeeze became a compassionate pat. “It’s good that you’re around family now,” she said sagely, sounding at least thirty years old. Maybe even older.

  Despite the emotions roiling in her stomach, Colby had to fight back a smile. “Yes, it is,” she agreed with a nod. Then she looked around the gym again. Now that her night’s agenda was out the window—there was no way she was propositioning a man for sex when he was on homework duty—she didn’t really know what to do with herself.

  While she supposed there were some widowers with children who had wild and crazy flings, he didn’t seem like the type. He’d want more, a commitment. And that was simply off the table for her. Plus, she’d been the confused girl in the middle before. While two single people having a casual fling was not the same as an extra-marital affair, Colby knew Emma could get hurt. And she’d been through way too much in her young life for that.

  With a sigh she said, “You know, Emma, I just remembered I forgot something at the restaurant.” She grabbed her keys from her purse and lifted her hand in a wave. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You, too, Miss Robicheaux,” Emma said, smiling wide. “And I’ll be sure to tell Dad you stopped by!”

  Colby’s face twisted in a grimace. She’d honestly rather the young girl didn’t, but what possible reason could she give to refuse? “Thanks, Emma. That would be great.”

  …

  “She stopped by to say hello?” Jason asked, flipping on the light as he walked through the door of his Acadian-style home. He was exhausted, in bad need of a shower, and a peanut butter protein shake was calling his name. But it figured his daughter would wait until right after he’d put the key in the door to mention Colby’s visit. “Just hello? That was all she said?”

  Emma shrugged. “Pretty much. We talked about the restaurant and cooking— Hey, did you know she’s actually met Giada? Like, more than once. Isn’t that awesome?”

  Jason loved his daughter. He did. She was smart and funny. She could kick a boy’s ass climbing a tree and then come home and bake a killer lasagna. But sometimes, following her train of thought was kind of like trying to navigate through a spider web. “That is awesome, Em. But did Colby say anything about why she came by? Ask about the gym, or a trial membership?”

  She shook her head. “No. But you know, now that you mention it, she wasn’t really dressed to work out. She had on a cool pair of jeans and a fancy shirt. And lots of makeup.” She smiled. “She looked pretty.”

  Jason figured that was a given. But he’d seen Colby earlier that day, and knew she had worked that night. He doubted she’d bother changing into a fancy shirt only to hide it under a chef’s jacket. And none of it explained why she would drive blocks out of her way just to turn around before seeing him. Especially after that look Cane had nailed them both with that afternoon. “Did she at least take a class schedule?”

  “Nope. She came in, we chatted, she left.” Emma shrugged. “Actually, she looked kinda surprised to meet me. I guess she didn’t expect me to be there.”

  Or knew that you existed, Jason thought with a wince.

  He didn’t know why he hadn’t mentioned Emma before. It wasn’t as if she were a secret. She just hadn’t come up as a topic in their brief bits of conversation. He guessed it was possible Cane had told her about his spunky godchild, but he doubted it. His friend wasn’t exactly known for his verboseness.

  Emma dropped her school bag onto the dining room table and headed for the pantry. After setting the ingredients for his post-workout shake on the counter, she grabbed a box of raisins for herself. Jason smiled, switching back into full-on parent mode.

  “Homework?” he asked, beginning the nightly inquisition.

  “Done. Even diagramming.” She made a face.

  “Very good. Dirty clothes?”

  “Already waiting in the laundry room,” she said with a nod. “Leftovers put away. Sink empty. Snackage in hand.”

  “That’s my girl.” He walked up to give her a hug, but she wrinkled her nose at his sweaty shirt. Instead, he put out his palm for a high-five. “All right, go take your shower and lights out in an hour. Deal?”

  She slapped his hand and took off in a flash of bouncing blond hair. Jason laughed as he grabbed the carton of milk from th
e fridge. There were definitely things that Emma needed, questions she had that required a woman’s touch, but he also knew that so far he’d done a damn good job on his own. Emma was a smart kid with great grades. She had friends and fun, but still helped around the house. She even pitched in a couple hours a week at the gym. If he didn’t marry again, she would turn out just fine—but Jason wanted more than fine for his daughter. He wanted her secure and confident. He wanted her well-rounded. He wanted to give her everything she deserved. And right now, he believed that was a mother.

  The problem was, of course, finding one. One that wouldn’t split the moment she found out he was a single father—as Colby had apparently done earlier—or want more than he was willing to give. He’d already suffered one major heartbreak in his life; he had no interest in signing on for another.

  After finishing his shake and rinsing out the blender, Jason stopped in the laundry room to start another load. Emma exited the bathroom as he passed, pink-cheeked and dressed in ice cream pajamas.

  “Hey Dad,” she said, leaning against the doorjamb. “I was thinking.”

  Jason froze in his tracks. In his experience, when a woman uttered those words, it was rarely a good sign. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What about?”

  “Miss Robicheaux. I think you should ask her out.”

  He blinked. He flicked his gaze toward the wedding photo hanging near the doorway, then raised an eyebrow. “You do, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said, gathering her damp hair for her ever-present ponytail. “You’re cute—or at least my friends say you are.” She curled her lip and made a gagging noise. “And you’re still young. For the most part, anyway. Miss Robicheaux seemed nice, and she’s pretty. I think you should ask her out.” Hair in place, Emma yanked an elastic hair tie off her wrist and wrapped it around twice. “Think about it.”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Then she scooted into her bedroom and closed the door, leaving Jason gobsmacked in the hall.

  Chapter Five

  Who needed men or a steamy fling when you could eat your weight in chocolate? That’s what Colby wanted to know as she walked down the aisle of sugary goodness at Trosclair’s Convenience Store. Chocolate had never steered her wrong in the past. It added some extra padding to her backside, yes. But when your life plan was to end up an old maid who apparently couldn’t find her boots, much less knock any, then a detail like that shouldn’t matter.

  “Bitterness doesn’t become you, Colby,” she muttered as she grabbed a king-sized Hershey’s with almonds. Not propositioning Jason had been her decision. But even though it had been the right one, it didn’t make the past two nights any less lonely. Or less filled with erotic dreams of what could’ve been. Thinking better of it, Colby turned back to the shelf and grabbed a Kit-Kat, too. Glancing at the items in her hands, she mentally counted backward approximately twenty-eight days.

  Hmm. Apparently being denied a sweaty session between the sheets with Jason wasn’t the only thing making her moody. It was entirely possible she was also suffering from PMS.

  “Oh joy,” she muttered again, waving as she passed old Mrs. Thibodeaux on her way toward the feminine hygiene section. The kind, gray-haired woman lifted a weathered hand in return.

  In Vegas, Colby could’ve gone an entire month, maybe longer, without recognizing anyone during her errands. It made shopping on bad hair days easy. But in Magnolia Springs, she was lucky to grab the mail without someone stopping her on the street for a chat. Not in the mood to reminisce while contemplating periods and chocolate, Colby picked up her pace.

  As she neared the row in question, she heard a familiar, spunky voice.

  “Dad, this is epically embarrassing. Can’t we just pick something—anything—and go?”

  Colby cringed. In those few words, she was able to get the entire picture in her mind. The anguished tone of Emma’s voice only heightened the image. And judging by the girl’s age, Colby would bet even money they were dealing with a monumental first. One that a guy, no matter how hard he tried, would never understand.

  She rounded the corner and sure enough, there stood a distraught-looking Jason, ankle deep in boxes of tampons and pads. He held a box of each at eye level. “They make different products for a reason, Bug,” he said, reading the back of one intently. “I only wish I knew when you needed what. Ultra-Thin, Super Long, Regular, Heavy.” He glanced at his daughter. “Do you know how heavy your flow is?”

  Colby slapped a hand over her mouth. Oh, the poor man did not just ask her that.

  Emma’s eyes widened, and Colby could see the words Oh, make this stop floating in her mind. Colby was far from motherly, but she certainly couldn’t do worse than Jason at the moment, bless his good-intentioned heart. Deciding it was best for everyone involved if she stepped in as soon as possible, Colby strode toward them. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

  Two pairs of matching brown eyes turned to her in relief. Jason mouthed the words, “Help me,” and Colby sent him a subtle nod. Turning to the distressed adolescent, she said, “It’s nice to see you again, Emma.”

  “Miss Robicheaux, you have no idea how good it is to see you.” The girl lifted her eyebrows and gave the box of maxi pads at her feet a pointed look.

  Knowing how touchy this subject could be, but not wanting to overstep any boundaries either, Colby turned to the row of options and selected her go-to brand of tampons. Normally, hygiene products were a taboo subject that she went out of her way to avoid around men. Whenever male visitors came over, she hid them deep in the back of her cabinets. But this was not the time to be squeamish. All three of them knew how female plumbing worked. And this situation was bigger than silly awkwardness.

  She turned to find both of them studying her selection with fascination.

  Maybe it wasn’t bigger.

  Her eyes fell to the box in her hands, her fingers tightening around the cardboard. Making a big deal about this would only embarrass Emma more, but suddenly, Colby was eleven years old again.

  She would never forget that cold January night. It was the stuff nightmares were made of—or at least, the nightmares of lovesick adolescents. It was the night of Sherry’s ballet recital, and they’d all been running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Knowing that Jason was coming with them, Colby had made the last-minute decision to jump in the shower, hoping a fresh shampoo of her hair would be just the thing to get him to notice her.

  He’d noticed her all right. In fact, he’d gotten two big eyefuls of her freshly scrubbed, prepubescent naked backside. Fresh from the shower, she’d been ass in the air rummaging through a cabinet for the very items in her hand when Jason opened the door. She’d frozen in place, the box hit the floor with a resounding smack, and then…he’d laughed.

  It was awesome.

  “Gentle glide,” Emma read from the bright pink box. “That makes sense.”

  Jason grabbed a box of it too, and added it to the mountain at his feet.

  Colby smiled as he scratched his stubbled jawline and surveyed the products, clearly out of his element. “Honestly, this stuff is more about personal preference than anything. Emma, if I were you, I’d start with these Tween pads. They’re made for girls your age.” She bent to pick up one of Jason’s boxes, along with a larger one beside it. “And just in case, I’d get this variety pack, too.”

  Emma nodded and Jason took the items gratefully. He topped it off by adding a bottle of Midol to the items in his arms. All the man needed was a box of brownies and he’d be a walking advertisement for Kotex.

  Watching the two of them together, Colby thought back to the day she’d gotten her first period. It had been Mother’s Day, oddly enough, and in the middle of church. When her mother discovered what had happened, she canceled her annual brunch, told the boys to go do manly things, and took Colby and Sherry out for a woman’s day. She turned a mortifying day into one that remained one of Colby’s most treasured memories. And suddenly, that was what she wanted to do for Emma.
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br />   “You know,” she said carefully, unsure if she should intrude on their moment, “Wednesdays are typically slower at the restaurant. I’m off today and was just on my way home for an afternoon of vegging on the sofa, watching Food Network, and stuffing my face full of chocolate.”

  She wasn’t sure which made Emma’s eyes sparkle more—the proposed viewing schedule, or the bars of chocolate in her hand.

  Stifling a grin, she turned to address the girl’s handsome father. “I take it Emma is out of school now?”

  Jason nodded. “She got excused at recess after—” Emma’s lips pinched together and he trailed off. “Ah, she’s off today for medical reasons.”

  His daughter groaned and threw her head into her hands. Jason grimaced. It was obvious the man was trying. Anyone could see that. But he was dealing with a hormonal preteen, and he was a man. Pretty much anything he said right now would be considered embarrassing.

  “That works, then,” Colby said, continuing with her plan. “Sherry has to work tonight, and I hate eating chocolate alone.”

  Besides, Colby wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive her sister yet for leaving out the vital detail that Jason had a child. Sherry swore she hadn’t mentioned Emma because she didn’t think it would make a difference…but Colby had caught the glint in her eye. Her cupid-sister knew—or had a decent-sized hunch—that a kid could’ve been a deal-breaker, and Sherry was nothing if not determined.

  Returning her full attention to the present situation, Colby gave Emma a very serious look. “Don’t get me wrong; I don’t share my chocolate.” She winked and the preteen grinned. “Anyone who hangs with me has to have her own stash. But consuming copious amounts of calories doesn’t feel so pathetic when you have company.” She glanced at Jason, who gave a subtle nod, and then transferred her gaze back to Emma. “Any chance you’d like to join me?”

  The exhale of relief, from both Landrys, was audible. Emma turned to her father with a pleading look, and Jason bit off a smile. “I think that could be arranged,” he said, chuckling as his daughter’s shoulders sagged in dramatic relief. “But you still have to finish your math assignment,” he added. “And be home by seven.”

 

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