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

by Liz Talley

  “Jeez, why didn’t you tell me?” Lucas said before she could even say good evening.

  “What?” She couldn’t meet his eyes. Why did she feel so embarrassed about the night before? She was a warm-blooded woman, a warm-blooded modern woman. Just because she straddled a man she’d known less than a week didn’t mean she was a hoochie mama. Much.

  “Chuck E. Cheese.” His disgust drew her gaze up to his eyes.

  “Oh, not exactly an adult’s favorite place.”

  “Understatement of the year. They don’t even have beer. It was an exercise in weathering the torments of hell. Two birthday parties were held tonight. Two.”

  “You want a beer?”

  “Is that code for the same thing as tea?”

  Addy stiffened. “No.”

  “Damn.”

  And that made her smile. “Last night just sorta happened.”

  “Hell, I told you I was coming over for tea every night,” he said, his grin awfully sexy in the weak porch light.

  “You’re down to two nights. You’re leaving in, what, a few days.” She averted her gaze because a low hum had started in her belly. Thoughts of his hands on her invaded, pricking at her reserves, urging her to let the passion bubble to the surface again. Last night had whetted her appetite for Lucas.

  “Nope. That’s what we were celebrating with the giant stuffed mouse. DeeAnn didn’t work out.”

  “The cousin?”

  “She came with herbal supplement.” He unfurled a bag of what looked to be…

  “Is that weed?”

  “Yep. Courtesy of DeeAnn’s boyfriend.”

  “You didn’t come over here to-”

  “Get high with you?” He laughed before shaking his head. “I don’t smoke this stuff. You?”

  “Never.” Addy took the bag and held it up before looking around as if a policeman might jump out from the bushes and take her down. “What’re you going to do with it?”

  “Don’t know. Put it in your compost heap? It’s natural. I think.”

  Addy laughed. “Fertilizer? Hmmm… maybe it will make my plants happier.”

  “Or more relaxed.” Lucas smiled, and again funny stuff happened in her belly. “How are you going to explain your secret ingredient for prize-winning flowers?”

  “In that case we better flush it.”

  Lucas looked at the baggie. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

  “You started it,” she said handing the baggie back to him.

  Moving closer, Lucas tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So me staying a while longer, that’s a good thing?”

  Something else trickled into her stomach—a sort of pleasure not stirred because of what this man could do to her body… but of what he could do to her soul. Lucas was staying longer. What did that mean for them? Was there even a them? “I’m not exactly sure what’s going on between us.”

  “Do we have to know?” He lowered his gaze to her lips.

  “No. We can just… have some tea?”

  “Never knew I liked tea so much.” He traced her lower lip with his finger, and her body began to hum.

  Then she heard her other neighbor’s car crank.

  Right. She stood on her back porch where her other neighbor or the kids could see them. She edged back on the stoop. “Um, so I’m glad you’re staying. It’s better for the kids.”

  Lucas seemed to understand the situation and tucked his hands in his jean pockets. “Not sure they agree, but after I voluntarily took them to chaos city for pizza and skee ball, they’re being a little nicer. Only had to ask three times for them to do their homework, and Charlotte didn’t throw a fit when I made her brush her teeth.”

  “So what brings you to my door… besides the potent fertilizer?”

  “I wanted to ask you out this weekend.”

  She jerked her gaze to his. “A date? How?”

  “Well, the kids have to come along, but I think it will still be fun.”

  She lifted one eyebrow. “Define fun.”

  “So today when I locked myself into the bathroom-”

  Her befuddlement gave him pause.

  “-long story. But anyway, Modern Parenting had an article on dealing with troubled teens and ways to connect them to their family.”

  “Modern Parenting?”

  “I forgot my Photography Today magazine. But anyway, one of the suggestions was to root the child into the parents’ past, sharing favorite reminiscences of their own formative years with the teen. So that got me to thinking about my own past in New Orleans. I thought I might share some of my and Ben’s favorite places when we were kids.”

  “And you want me to go with you?”

  His normally stoic expression melted into pure charm. “Pretty please?”

  “I work on Saturday.”

  He frowned. “I forgot. Well, maybe when you get off? And we can always hit a few places on Sunday.”

  Spending the weekend with Lucas sounded… scary. But in a good way. If there was a good way to be scared. Maybe it was more like guarded anticipation.

  She wanted to get closer to him but doing so felt like placing a big target on her back. Cupid already swooped dangerously close to her. Did she want to get shot by love’s arrow when she knew the man, though staying longer than anticipated, would pack his big truck and ramble off into the sunset?

  But another voice rudely interrupted the voice of doubt. Addy was fairly certain this voice was the one who had urged her to throw her legs around Lucas in the kitchen last night. And that voice said to stop thinking and take some chances.

  But that voice was also the same voice that had urged her to sneak out with Robbie Guidry… to allow her present-day tormentor to be her first sexual partner. Bold, reckless, and oblivious to consequences, that voice didn’t represent the smartest of part of Addy. Most of the time, she ignored that part of herself, choosing to control it with safe activities, like reading spicy romances. No one could hurt her in those books, unlike the real world.

  “Addy?”

  “What?” She refocused on Lucas.

  This man was not Robbie Guidry. Didn’t mean he still couldn’t hurt her emotionally, but physically he was quite the opposite of a threat. His touch awoke something beautiful inside her.

  “I’m struggling with how involved I should get with you.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Why?”

  “Because I like you a lot, and you’re going to leave. We could have tea, but what if I find I can’t stop wanting tea? What if I can’t give tea up?” She hadn’t felt this vulnerable in forever. Tea was code for loving Lucas, and she felt like that could happen very easily. She was primed to drown in that particular tall drink of… tea.

  “I understand, Addy. I’m not dragging you into anything you don’t want. Seriously, this is just a simple invitation. I think I can handle an outing chaperoned by three kids without humping your leg. It will be hard, but I can control myself… unlike Kermit.”

  Addy couldn’t stop the smile at that image. He was right. What he asked was no different than what she’d been doing with him and the kids for the past few days. Hanging out. Last night hadn’t changed that.

  Okay, maybe a little.

  She shoved her doubts to the back burner. “You are a flirt.”

  He made a face. “I am not.”

  “Sure. I’ll go. And if my delivery guy comes back this week, I’ll take Saturday morning off.”

  “Perfect,” Lucas said, glancing back at the Finlay house. “I should get back.”

  “Yeah, I promised to watch TV with Aunt Flora. She didn’t have a good day today. Missed her turn for the library and ended up lost. She found her way back eventually, but it upset her more than normal.”

  “How about a sip of tea before I go?” His eyes may have twinkled.

  Dear Gussie, he was gorgeous. All hard planes, broad shoulders, and hewn oak. Chocolate eyes, crooked nose, and sensuous mouth. She wanted to kiss him till the cows came home
—whatever that meant. But her voice of reason was being awfully forceful that night.

  Lucas quirked an eyebrow.

  “I’m still thinking about it,” she said.

  “Ah, hell, Addy girl, if you gotta think that hard, I’ll say good night.”

  “You know my history. You know why I’m cautious.”

  “You told me I didn’t scare you.”

  I lied.

  Addy shook her head. “You don’t.”

  He stepped back, inching off the porch stoop, stepping down one, two, three steps. “It’s cool. I’d never take a sip without you offering.”

  His words tore a little at her heart. She wanted him to want her… so why was she hiding behind fear? Again, her past clutched at her, preventing her from reacting as a normal woman would.

  Damn it. She wasn’t a victim and she wouldn’t be controlled by fear.

  Jogging down the steps so she was eye level with him, she leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips.

  It was a soft kiss that turned hot in the blink of an eye.

  Lucas cupped her head and made her kiss worth his while. What felt like minutes later, he pulled back and studied her in the dim porchlight. “Don’t be afraid, Addy.”

  “I’m always afraid,” she whispered.

  “Ah, Addy, you break my heart.”

  She tapped his chest. “Good to know you got one, tough guy.”

  “It’s in there somewhere.”

  Addy brushed his jaw with the back of her hand, liking the way the rasp of his emerging beard felt. “I fight fear every day, and I win. Just sometimes my rational voice overshadows the voice that had me straddling you last night.”

  His eyes grew softer. “You don’t have to be either. You can be both. I like the woman you are in my arms.” He ducked and gave her a quick kiss before turning toward the house ablaze with lights.

  “Me, too,” she said quietly. Her admission wafted in the night air. “But she’s the girl who gets me hurt. Been there. Done that.”

  He turned. “You just chose the wrong guy, that’s all.”

  His footfalls as he walked away were soft on the winter weary ground. Addy watched, a silent shadow, her mind wrapping around his words. She knew Robbie Guidry had been the wrong man for her. As a teen, his only appeal was in how wrong he was for her. Having a secret affair with the older man down the street was forbidden… exciting… rebellious.

  Until it was not.

  But that didn’t mean Lucas was the right man even if from the start she’d been attracted to him. That atypical response didn’t mean anything. So it usually took weeks or months for her to feel comfortable around a guy? Just because it happened within a couple of days signified nothing.

  But she knew it did… even if on paper Lucas was all wrong for her. In the long run, he was inaccessible—didn’t live in New Orleans, had a life elsewhere. New Orleans was a pit stop for him, and all she could ever be was a nice memory.

  Was that enough to take a risk?

  Especially when Robbie might be paroled in less than a week. Did she really want to let down her guard when danger lurked around the corner?

  “Addy?” Aunt Flora’s voice boomed from the innards of the house.

  “Coming,” she shouted, trotting up the porch steps, shutting the door and twisting the lock before setting the kettle on the stove.

  “What’s taking you so long?” Aunt Flora asked, schlepping into the kitchen with Bugs Bunny slippers and a wildly patterned caftan.

  “Lucas stopped by,” she said, grabbing two cups and the tin of chamomile. Both she and Flora needed something to calm their nerves.

  “I tell you what, I wouldn’t be talking with that man around. I’d be doing.” Aunt Flora folded herself into a chair and watched Addy. “No tea for me tonight, dear. I’m having vodka.”

  “Vodka?”

  “Diane found a wonderful cotton candy vodka. It’s delish to sip.”

  Addy wrinkled her nose but slid her aunt’s cup back into the cupboard. Aunt Flora wasn’t supposed to mix alcohol with her medications, but Addy figured she shouldn’t point that out tonight. The woman finally acted more like herself. The jittery shell of a woman who had met her when she arrived home had scared her. A teary Aunt Flora was like eating week old meatloaf… not fun to experience the blow back. “Fine, but I’m not going dancing with you later when the booze kicks in.”

  Flora laughed. “When is the last time you danced, Addy? You used to love it.”

  Addy stiffened. “I don’t have time to dance.”

  Her aunt tsked and shook her head sadly. “Honey, you gotta start dancing.”

  “I’m assuming you’re talking about more than actual foot work?”

  Aunt Flora tilted her head, her silvery hair dropping against the bold red, yellow and orange silk and gave her a bemused smile. “I used to dance with Millard every Saturday.”

  “Mr. O’Boyle? The guy you bought Fleur De Lis from?”

  “Millard was a fine dancer, so light on his feet. He always hummed as we danced, holding me so close as we circled the potted plants and waltzed past the cut stems. Best end to a work week ever.”

  “He was married with four children, Aunt Flora.”

  Her aunt narrowed her eyes. “I know, but what’s the harm in a dance?”

  The kettle whistled and Addy poured steaming water into her cup and swirled the tea ball, releasing the aroma. She inhaled deeply. “So were you in love with him?”

  “Of course. There was much to love about Millard. He had a deep laugh that nearly shook his entire body and a neat mustache he liked to stroke when he contemplated his designs. And he was always so sweet to children, giving little girls flowers and young boys a sweet from his candy jar.”

  Addy contemplated Flora sitting in her kitchen, staring out into her past, a half smile on her face. After several seconds of silence, Flora glanced back at Addy. “If only we’d met in another time and place. He was too good a man to hurt his wife. The only leave he gave himself to be another man was when we danced. Still today I can hardly stand the sound of ‘The Tennessee Waltz.’”

  Addy didn’t know what to say to her aunt’s admission. Her voice held sorrow and regret. “I’m sorry.”

  “Bah, years ago, but the heart does remember.” Flora straightened and then pointed a finger at Addy. “My point is don’t miss the dance, honey. Anyone with eyes in her head can see the man next door wants to be your partner. Don’t deny yourself because there’s no forever in it. Sometimes you have to settle for one dance a week to get you through a lifetime.”

  “I’m not avoiding the potential for something between me and Lucas. Things just aren’t ideal for romance.”

  “When are they ever ideal? There is no such thing. It’s like saying you’ll have kids when you can afford them. Or saying you’ll do all those things you dreamed of doing when you retire,” Aunt Flora said, giving her a look that made Addy want to cry. “Look what that got me.”

  Silence hung between them, and Addy busied herself by putting away the tea tin and tossing the teaspoon into the sink. Mostly so she wouldn’t cry in front of Flora.

  “But I’ll tell you what was worthwhile. Dancing with Millard. I don’t regret locking the door, pulling down the shade, and losing myself in a man who was mine… if only for thirty minutes. Sometimes I wonder if I should have tried harder to change my own fortunes.” Aunt Flora’s voice trailed off. “Know what? I wanna get out of here and sip some more of that vodka.”

  “Your wish is…” Addy turned off the kitchen light and in the glow of the nightlight sitting above the counter and extended a hand to her aunt, seeing the woman couldn’t handle the memories of a love unrequited.

  “-my command,” Aunt Flora finished, winding her arm around Addy and pulling her into a hug. “Your father called earlier and wanted you to give him a ring.”

  Addy’s heart sank.

  Robbie Guidry. Her father had gone to talk to the assistant DA who prosecuted Robbie, taking all
the evidence tagged by Lt. Andre. But Addy didn’t want to talk about parole boards and safety issues at the moment. Nor did she want to talk any further about taking risks with a big, sexy man living temporarily next door.

  She wanted to lose herself in a world somewhere far away, and maybe later find out what Sheriff Cade and Sophia were up to.

  Ha.

  As if she didn’t know.

  The phone woke Lucas from where he dozed in the recliner. All the lights were still on and ESPN blared on the TV. One of the announcers mentioned a trade deal between the Oakland As and the Texas Rangers for a pitcher, but the incessant ringing kept him from hearing what player it was.

  “Hello,” he said, trying to sound awake and read the Closed Captioning at the same time.

  “Lucas?” It was Courtney.

  “Hey.”

  “Sorry I’m calling so late. I’d meant to call earlier but got tied up.” She paused dramatically. “Luke, he’s awake.”

  “Ben?”

  Courtney laughed. “No, the Easter Bunny.”

  “Of course I know what you meant. How is he?”

  “He’s still weak and a little confused. He thought at first he was still in Germany and wanted to know how I got a passport so quickly. Oh, and your parents arrived this evening. It’s been crazy.”

  Relief blanketed Lucas. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how much he wanted his brother to heal. The betrayal was still there, but somehow lessened.

  He didn’t know if he wanted it to lessen. He’d held on to his anger and pride for so long it had become like a favorite sweatshirt, easy to pull on when needed.

  “Lucas?”

  “I’m here. Sorry, I had fallen asleep and was a bit disoriented. Still surprised to wake up somewhere other than my own bed.” He folded the bottom of the recliner down with a grunt. “I’m glad to hear he’s awake.”

  “Are you?”

  He stiffened. “Why wouldn’t I be?”