His Brown-Eyed Girl (A New Orleans Ladies Novel Book 2)

by Liz Talley

  The little girl still cried, holding fast to Addy. “As you can see, your yelling is not helping the situation.”

  “She’s not supposed to leave our house without Momma,” Chris said, folding his arms, very adultlike. He was quite the little parent.

  “Mommy! I want my mommy!” Charlotte wailed, snuffling, her little body trembling against Addy’s leg.

  “Here.” Addy bent and scooped the child into her arms, praying she’d not just shown her promised land to the two males in her foyer, and strode toward the living room to her left. Making calming noises, she stroked the little girl’s back. “Shhh, shhhh, Charlotte. Your mommy will be home soon.”

  The child hid her face in the curve of Addy’s neck and squeezed her tighter. Addy sank onto the flowered couch, carefully tucking her robe around her, and glanced back at the two males standing silently in the foyer. She jerked her head, indicating they follow her and tried not to worry about the front door standing wide open, an invitation to the outside world.

  Lucas pulled the door shut and nudged Chris toward where Addy sat.

  “What?” Chris said, pulling back. “No, I wanna go back home. I’m hungry. Besides, I still gotta do some math.”

  Lucas nodded. “Go then. Three slices of pizza only. No soda.”

  Chris nodded. “Cool. Later, Addy.”

  He didn’t wait for her response. Just slid out the front door, closing it with a loud bang. Addy couldn’t stop her eyes from sliding to the unlocked deadbolt. A second later she lifted her gaze to Lucas who noticed her preoccupation with the door, but hopefully thought she worried about the force the ten-year old had used.

  He walked into her living room, gaze darting left then right before once again landing on her.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucas said, ducking his chin slightly. “I didn’t mean to scare her. Or you.”

  The irony was Addy wasn’t scared.

  Not anymore.

  But she was nervous to be practically naked in the room with a man she felt an uncanny attraction toward. And that thought surprised the hell out of her.

  She should be terrified of a man storming into the place she felt safest, yelling, disrupting, darting glances at the places that made her very much different from him.

  Moments before she had been terrified.

  The letter had been sent to terrorize her, and her heart still thudded in her chest from the adrenaline of pounding down the stairs and being startled by Charlotte. But Lucas arriving, filling up the foyer with his strength and somewhat sweet failing at being a caregiver, stilled her. So odd, yet so welcome in the face of what she’d experienced earlier.

  Lucas quieted her trembling.

  “I know you didn’t,” Addy murmured, lifting a hand and stroking Charlotte’s back again. “But you are a large man and somewhat frightening to a small girl.”

  “I apologized. I don’t know what else to say.”

  Addy cuddled the little girl who’d sank into her, snuffling but no longer sobbing. Something tender awoke within her toward the child. Having her mother leave her with someone she didn’t know had to be traumatic. “I know you don’t know what to say, but you have to try on her shoes. She’s young and missing her mother. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, only that you scare her with your scowls and anger.”

  Something in his eyes softened, something different glowing within. “But I don’t scare a big girl like you, do I?”

  Lucas watched Addy as she held Charlotte, her elegant fingers stroking the child’s back. Rich hair fell in dark hanks around her serious face, and he had to practice extreme self-discipline not to slide his gaze to her bare thighs. Something about the turn of a calf, the delicacy of a knee and the sleekness of a woman’s thigh got him every time. Total leg man.

  The glimpse of the curve of her breast covered by the child’s golden ringlets wasn’t helping any.

  And why had he just asked her that?

  “Should I be afraid of you?” Addy asked, her gaze earnest and steady. Flirty hadn’t worked on her.

  “No. I don’t know why I said that.” He didn’t. He wasn’t a flirt. Quite the opposite. Yet, he’d tested those waters.

  Addy held his gaze, giving nothing away. “Charlotte is afraid, Chris is out of control, and from what little I’ve seen of the oldest, you’re the enemy.”

  Of course she was right, but could he out and out admit he was a failure? “Charlotte has said time and again I’m big… but I’m not much larger than her father.”

  “But Ben’s her father. You’re a stranger to her.”

  He shoved a hand through hair in need of a trim. He hadn’t had time before he left Rotan to drop by the barber. Moment of truth. “Okay. You’ve got me. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  Addy’s lips twitched, but her gaze didn’t hold victory. Wasn’t like she hadn’t clued into his incompetence within seconds of meeting him. “Takes a big man to admit it. No pun intended, of course.”

  He allowed his lips to curve upward by a centimeter. “It’s obvious.”

  “Pretty much.” The child had stilled in Addy’s lap and lay heavy against her body, seemingly content to have her warmth and calming influence. Again, he was struck by the way Addy soothed those around her even as she herself often looked spooked.

  Why did she continue to look toward the door? Maybe he made her nervous and subconsciously she ushered him toward the exit? Yet her words didn’t rush him out, and she’d invited him into the living area.

  “I thought I could handle a few kids—maybe not the evil cat that jumps on my legs in the middle of the night—but it’s not like the kids are in diapers. I should be able to do this.”

  “You think they’re easier when they can move around and back talk you?”

  Okay, that made sense. “Point taken.”

  “Maybe I can help you out a little.”

  His gaze jerked to hers. “You’ll help?”

  “Sure. As much as I can.”

  “How?” Sweet relief blanketed him. Addy seemed capable and sincere—two qualities he appreciated in his fellow man, or rather woman. If there was any lemonade to be had after the lemons Chris had given by crashing into a greenhouse, this was it.

  “Well, first, all the children should help us rebuild the greenhouse for two reasons: first, they can get to know you better; and, second, they’ll be easy to keep an eye on. At some point, you and I can sit down and go over their schedules and see where I, or even my aunt Flora, can help out. For example, Aunt Flora’s an excellent cook and would likely be happy to save you from pizza every night.”

  “Who’s Aunt Flora?”

  “I’m Aunt Flora.”

  Lucas swiveled his head to where an older woman stood in the doorway of the living room, wearing a sombrero, a pair of bright pants, and sweatshirt that read “I may be old but you’re a moron.” She looked like a cross between Lucille Ball and perhaps an escapee from an asylum.

  “Lucas, this is my aunt, Flora Demarco,” Addy said nodding toward the woman.

  Aunt Flora raked him with a speculative gaze, lingering on particular parts. Like a connoisseur of men, she weighed and measured him… then gave him a smile that might have worried a lesser man. But Lucas was accustomed to such smiles.

  He stuck out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Demarco. I’m Lucas Finlay, Ben’s brother.”

  “Miss Demarco, please. Or rather Flora.” The woman wiggled a finger at Charlotte who peeked out from her resting spot on Addy’s small breasts. Lucky child.

  “I just told Mr. Finlay-”

  “Lucas.”

  “Yes, Lucas, that we would be glad to help him. Courtney and Ben are undergoing some hardship, and Lucas has his hands more than full with the kids and the running of a household.”

  “Of course,” Flora said, nodding and reaching toward Charlotte. “I’ll start with taking this moppet into the kitchen for some milk and, perhaps, a cookie? I remember chocolate chip is your fav, right?”

&
nbsp; Charlotte raised her head and nodded, lifting chubby arms out to Flora. Addy shifted the child, trying in vain to cover her thighs, and set the girl on the floor. The child took the older woman’s hand and allowed herself to be led from the room. She didn’t look back.

  Addy cleared her throat and looked at the brass fireplace tools sitting at the hearth. Taking the child away gave an unsettling intimacy to the situation.

  “Thank you,” he said sincerely, trying to pull his mind away from the way her damp hair winged away from her delicate neck and the fact she probably wore not a stitch of clothing beneath the terry cloth.

  A fierce hunger bloomed within him when he thought of her taut stomach and up-tilted breasts. He could just make out the outline of her nipples and imagined their pliant puffiness growing hard beneath his fingers.

  He needed to stop that line of thinking. Now.

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  God, he should be ashamed since the woman volunteered to help him with the kids, but Lucas Finlay rarely felt shame for wanting a woman.

  And this one he wanted.

  But he’d have to resist.

  Something in Addy’s demeanor told him she wasn’t a woman to trifle with a man. Something he quite couldn’t put his finger on warned a tumble with the florist wouldn’t be wise.

  “So you’ll help me with the kids?” he asked stupidly because he needed to stop thinking about the fact that she was still naked, still four steps away from him. He was here for a reason.

  She gave him an amused expression. “I just said I would. If Aunt Flora isn’t tied up tomorrow evening, she can whip up dinner with the kids’ help while you and I look over their schedules. We can’t do anything about Charlotte’s fear of you or Michael’s resentment, but we can make the space in which they operate more efficient which should alleviate some stress. Sound good?”

  His mind flitted to sitting beside Addy as they worked on a schedule. He would love breathing in her clean, soft scent, feeling the accidental brush of her hand, and the anticipation of what could happen between them… if he would allow it. No, if she would allow it. “Sounds perfect. I think Michael has something at his church tomorrow night, so it will only be Charlotte and Chris for the evening.”

  “See, one occupied. Two to go.” She smiled as she smoothed the fabric over her thighs. He made her uneasy, but not in a fearful way. At least he didn’t think so.

  Something crackled between them, and she lifted her eyes and held his gaze for a moment, licking those pretty lips nervously.

  Heat poured into his pelvis, and he felt a not so polite stirring below his belt.

  Hell.

  Addy seemed to sense the shift. “Uh, sorry about being in such a state of undress. I was in the middle-”

  “Don’t apologize for being… um, what I meant is that we interrupted you and so…” He trailed off, sounding so not himself.

  Her face heated and Lucas thought it adorable. He wanted to move closer to her, breathe her in. He was in trouble.

  “I don’t know what to say to that.” She gave a nervous laugh.

  Silence fell between them, prodding him to grab the kid and haul his cookies back to the house next door. Well, not his cookies, but if he brought a few of Aunt Flora’s chocolate chip cookies, he’d have some bribery at the ready.

  “I should go. It’s almost Charlotte’s bedtime, and I still have to fight with her to brush her teeth. Plus, Michael has to be at school early for tutoring, and wrestling Chris into bed is somewhere in the middle of all that.”

  “Use a timer for Charlotte and see if you can’t make it a game.”

  “What?”

  Addy stood and gave him another glimpse of thigh.

  Thank you, dear Lord, for that small gift.

  “Brushing her teeth. I have a funny chicken timer you can use. Set it for a minute and make it a game.”

  “That will work?”

  Addy shrugged. “Worked for my youngest sister. She hated brushing her teeth. Now she’s a junior in dental school.”

  Lucas followed Addy to the kitchen, trying to control the impulse to grab her, whirl her around, and kiss the devil out of her. He craved her mouth. Wanted to touch her, hold her.

  “Here,” Addy said, plopping a chicken timer into his hand totally destroying his visions of kissing her. Chicken timers had a way of curbing horniness.

  Or maybe it was Aunt Flora and Charlotte sitting at a retro silver table happily discussing cookies dissolving the desire.

  The kitchen was pleasantly old-fashioned with white tiled counters and a black-and-white-patterned floor. Touches of red and yellow dotted the decorating palate, giving a homey feel to the industrial stainless appliances that were very much of this century. A comfortable place as evidenced by Charlotte’s swinging legs and chocolate-smeared face.

  “I don’t wanna leave yet,” Charlotte said.

  Addy squatted down, tucking the terrycloth against her behind. Damn, she was sexy as hell in that raggedy bathrobe.

  Lucas had to turn away to contemplate something besides the curvy brunette with her sexy bare feet and delicate wrists. He needed to get a grip… or get laid.

  He really didn’t know what was wrong with him. He wasn’t a teenager. Not even close.

  “You must go home so you can come again. Uncle Lucas said you can come over and play with me tomorrow afternoon,” said Addy.

  He studied the badly painted rooster perched upon the cabinet.

  Okay, Luke ol’ boy, think about the dog piss. Or the overflowing garbage can you forgot to set out at the curb. Or the claws of the Wicked Cat of the West sinking into your balls. Yeah. That worked… since he’d actually felt that the night before.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow. For a cookie,” Charlotte said.

  Lucas heard the chair scrape against the kitchen tile and turned. Charlotte slid from the chair and wrapped her arms around Addy’s neck.

  “Good girl,” Addy murmured, catching his gaze and giving him a little wink.

  And something warm moved inside him.

  Lucas Finlay was a man who didn’t want to feel little plinks near his ticker. Love or anything near it wasn’t something he wanted cluttering up the clear horizon in his life.

  “Let’s go home, Charlotte.”

  The little girl looked up at him. “It’s not your home, Uncle Wucas.”

  Damn sure wasn’t. Another reason why he shouldn’t get too chummy with his neighbor.

  Addy placed the freesia between the stargazer lilies and squinted. Too much? Or just right?

  “About to deliver the bouquets for the Richard wedding. Are there any deliveries you need made downtown? I’ll be down that way,” Shelia Guillory asked as she hefted the long and slender box containing the bridal bouquet and walked toward the back door.

  “Nope. Slow day for flowers.”

  “About time. We’ve been busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest,” her assistant and sometimes delivery person said with a chuff of relief. “Valentine’s Day nearly did me in.”

  “Busy is good,” Addy murmured her standard reply.

  “Says the owner,” Shelia said using her droll voice. It was one Addy was well-acquainted because Shelia lived for sarcasm, biting irony, and fuzzy kittens. The latter she wasn’t droll about, merely passionate.

  “You like eating, right?”

  Shelia looked down at her lush figure. “What do you think?”

  The topic Addy had brought up weeks ago about Shelia buying into the shop sat fat between them. Fleur De Lis floral had been Addy’s life, something she’d worked hard to buy from her Aunt Flora after the older woman had retired. Addy had opened the business to a new market with her creative designs and couldn’t imagine letting even a small part of Fleur De Lis go, but her business had increased to such a degree that she couldn’t spend time doing the design work. She needed a partner, and Shelia needed a fresh start. But her friend was too afraid to commit. Too afraid to hope that she could
have something for herself.

  Addy smiled. “I love the way you look, Shelia. Wish I had some of those dangerous curves. I’m a straight drive.”

  “Eh, you do all right. I see the way Sam looks at you when he comes in for deliveries. If there were ranch dressing lying around, he’d dip you in it.”

  Addy spun around. “Wait, the UPS guy? Ranch dressing?”

  “Yeah, Sam. And everything is good dipped in ranch dressing. Before you eat it.”

  “That’s trite, huh?”

  “The dressing or Sam?”

  “The cute UPS guy.”

  Shelia raised eyebrows she’d penciled to perfection. “He looks pretty damn good in those shorts if you ask me. But I’m too old for him.”

  “Bah.” Addy tilted her head. “His knees are nice, now that you mention it.”

  Shelia’s robust laugh filled the shop as she scooped up the other boxes going to the chapel. “You know what they say about a man with sexy knees, don’t you?”

  Addy made a face, bracing herself for the sexual innuendo sure to follow.

  “Wears a lot of shorts.”

  Addy rolled her eyes and went back to the arrangement.

  “I’m outta here. You got the last delivery?” Shelia asked.

  “Yes, and I can’t wait until Herbert is back. I hate knocking on strangers’ doors.”

  “I know you do, hon. You going to meeting tonight? I’ll be there.” Shelia paused, her dark eyes softening. Shelia wore a caftan-like shirt and denim stretch pants accessorized with three gold chains around her broad neck. Shelia called her look “NOLA funk,” and Addy couldn’t imagine her friend and employee without a little bling. But as loud, sarcastic, and bossy as Shelia was, Addy knew her to be the kindest of women, hence the love for the kittens she rescued and helped place in good homes for the past few years.

  Shelia was a cat’s best friend, a kitten angel, and homeless pet savior rolled into one.

  But Addy wasn’t the type to save things. Never felt compelled to pull someone from the fire… most the time she tended her own fire, struggling to keep the flames of fear from consuming her. She wasn’t selfish, merely protective and cautious. So why had she agreed to help Lucas?