by K. A. Ware
I grasped at the loose waves falling around my shoulders. “I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus, are you still stuck in 2007 or do you ever grow up?” I had no clue why he made me as crazy as he did, but two seconds around the man, and I reverted to a foot-stomping child whose favorite toy had just been stolen. I should’ve abandoned my tantrum and turned away, but something about his hands on me a few minutes ago held me rooted in my spot.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“I live here, remember?”
I smirked, popping my hands on my hips. “On Bourbon Street?”
“Smartass. It’s Mardi Gras. Most people like to have fun. You remember fun, right?”
God, he was infuriating. I had no idea why I bothered with him. I took that back. I knew exactly why I bothered with him. He knew all my hidden buttons, and he reached in and pushed them all. Maybe I was determined to show him I wasn’t that same naive girl he used to know. I was worldly. I was smart. I was a woman.
But right now, I was drunk and needed to get the hell away from him.
“Of course, I remember fun. I had plenty of fun. I’ll have you know I sang karaoke before you came in here and shit all over my fun parade.”
A small smile teased his lips. “You, uh, sang? Addie Dubois…you can’t sing for shit.”
I narrowed my eyes as low as they’d go, while still staring at him. He looked all right. Crap, okay, he looked good. He had on ripped, faded blue jeans with a tight gray button-up shirt that he had rolled up at the sleeves. All his tattoos showed and when he smiled, the whitest teeth I’d ever seen gleamed back at me.
I wanted to punch them all out so he and Hank would have a matching set. Maybe then, I’d stop caring what he thought.
Scanning the crowd for Savannah, I spotted her at the next bar, buying another round of Hurricanes. My stomach churned and I couldn’t decide if it was from the alcohol or Zep LeBlanc. Either way, I wasn’t sticking around to find out.
Focusing on the wall, rather than Zep, I yelled above the music. “Tell Savannah I’ll wait for her outside. Suddenly, it’s become too full of hot air in here for me to stand.”
Without waiting for a response, I pushed my way through the throngs of people standing back to back in the crowded bar and barreled through the door onto Bourbon Street. Once outside, I finally drew in a lung full of fresh air and tried to clear my fuzzy head.
Of all the bars. Of all the tables. Of all the shitty luck.
As the crowd shifted and bumped into me on the street, I realized I was no better off. Deciding to head back to the van to sleep it off, I cursed when I remembered Savannah still had the keys to the Porno-mobile with her. Scrubbing both hands over my cheeks, I glanced toward the heavens, and wondered what wrongs I’d done in my life to deserve this night, when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder and a force jerk me around.
“Just what the fuck is your problem?” Zep stood, his ears red with anger, his crystal blue eyes lit with fire. His stance was ready for a fight, and I wasn’t sure if I should charge like a bull or run like a coward. Either way, I was screwed.
“My problem?” Deflection and stalling always seemed to work for me. “You’re the one who followed me out here, boss. Seems to me it’s you who has the problem. Obsessed much?”
“Hardly,” he snorted, glancing away. “I just expect a thank you when I save a lady.”
“Well, when you find one who needs saving maybe she’ll give you one.”
“Maybe when I find an actual lady she’ll appreciate it.”
My mouth dropped open, and I hit him with my purse. “You’re such an asshole.”
Zep deflected the hit, grabbing my wrist and pinning it over my head, his cheek inches from mine. “That the best you got, Dubois?”
“Why do you hate me so much?” I didn’t want to know. I did want to know. I had no clue what I wanted because his proximity was screwing with my head.
Zep swallowed hard, his chest heaving with every deep-rooted breath. As he spoke, his breath whispered across my skin. “I don’t hate you, Addie. I know you. You’re going to get taken advantage of in there. Those guys don’t give a shit what happens to you, and you’re in no shape to defend yourself. You have to be smart.”
“All this because of your precious business, Zephirin?” I couldn’t help it. My mouth opened and words fell out. Words I had no idea why they formed.
Zep’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his throat working repeatedly to swallow words he forced down. “Yeah, Adelaide, because of the business. What’s yours is mine, and mine is yours. Remember? We have a vested business interest to protect. It sure as hell isn’t because of anything between us. You fucking made that clear a long time ago, didn’t you?”
His words were harsh, yet, his free hand rolled a lock of my hair in between his finger and thumb gently, feeling each strand as it shifted beneath his skin.
“Do not go there,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “A lifetime has happened. And you made your choices, just as I did. Don’t play the victim, Zep. It doesn’t suit you.”
A smirk settled across his rugged features as he leaned in close, his lips dusting against my ear. “She was worth it.”
Four words.
Four small insignificant words tore through me like a bullet detonating on impact.
Jerking my wrist out of his hold, I pulled back and smacked him across the face.
Not once. Not twice. But three good…hard…times. And he stood there and took it without budging or moving, his glacier eyes boring into me the whole time.
On the fourth time that I went to smack him, all seven Hurricanes hit me at once and I smacked at nothing but air, collapsing into his arms. Instead of letting me fall, he enfolded me into his chest and held me steady.
“Adelaide? Is that you? Are you all right? Who is this guy?”
Through the haze that had become my vision, I recognized the blurry outline of Officer Quentin Pope. His uniform and utility belt offered no question of his intention as he reached for the clasp that held his gun. Lifting my head from Zep’s chest, I shook it vehemently and waved my arms.
“No, no, no, no! I’m fine. I mean, no I’m not fine. I’m going to puke on your shoes. Well, not your shoes, that would be bad to puke on a cop’s shoes, right? Right. No, I mean I’m fine here. This is Zep. Do you know Zep? Say hi, Zep.” I was rambling, but as much as I wanted to beat the shit out of the man, I didn’t want him arrested.
Pope eyed Zep and then glanced back at me. “Where’s Savannah?”
Just as I nodded back to the bar, my sister came barreling out of the door, hands waving and madder than fuck. “Adelaide Rose, what the actual fuck? I’ve been looking all over for you! You don’t just run out of a bar during Mardi Gras without…Pope? Is that you?”
My eyes ping-ponged back and forth between my sister and Officer Pope as their goofy grins and twitchy fingers told the story of a budding relationship put on hold due to distance. That first night back, I’d slept in the house with ear phones while the Viking Titmobile rocked back and forth like the Scooby Doo Mystery Machine, solving the mystery of Savannah’s born again virginity. She’d been crabby as hell since Pope had gone to back NOLA, so I hadn’t brought it up. However, I’d had a feeling they’d been seeing each other on the sly. Seeing their instant connection just proved my suspicions.
Inching his way toward Savvy, Pope brushed a piece of her dark hair away from her face. “What hotel are you two staying at tonight? I’m guessing Adelaide has had enough Cajun Festivities for the evening.”
“Party Plopper,” I interjected, my mouth muffled against Zep’s shirt.
Pope nodded. “I rest my case.”
Savannah bounced from one foot to the other, glancing everywhere but at Pope. “Um, well, see here’s the thing…”
“I don’t like the way this is starting, Savannah.”
“Hear me out,” she begged, grabbing his hand. “This was a spur of the moment trip. Addie was being a major douche canoe.”
“I’m right here…” I mumbled.
“And so we just took off. We uh, we were going to sleep in the van?”
Pope’s eyes widened in horror. “In the tit van? Oh, Savannah, hell no. At the very least, you’ll get hubcaps stolen. Worst case, you’ll end up gang banged and murdered.”
“You’re so pessimistic.” My sister rolled her eyes and dropped his hand.
“No. Absolutely not,” Pope interjected, shaking his head. “I won’t allow it.”
I cringed. No one told Savannah what to do. Obviously, Pope hadn’t learned that nugget of wisdom yet. My sister’s face heated as her jaw ticked with restrained and carefully chosen words.
Holding up her hand in the night air, she flipped it forward and backward, examining it with mocked intensity. “Interesting. I don’t see a ring.” Then just because she was Savannah, she tapped against the skin on her neck. “Or a dog collar. Nope, neither are there. So, I don’t think you’ll be allowing much of anything, Pope.”
Sighing, Pope wisely rephrased his statement. “I’d rather you not, Savannah. It’s not safe.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Savannah bit out, her face turning a nice shade of red. “There are no hotels left, and if you think I’m driving all the way back to Terrebonne tonight, you’re crazy.”
“My apartment’s not far from here.” Zep spoke up, his voice rattling underneath my cheek. He felt warm, and I was so sleepy. As I faded in and out, I forgot why I was supposed to be mad at him. All I knew was that his chest served as an amazing pillow and my eyelids were heavy. However, as usual, my mouth refused to cooperate with my brain.
“Not going anywhere with you, LeBlanc.” Then, my mouth revolted against everyone. Right onto Zep’s shoes. “Ew,” I announced, glancing down. “When did I eat cheese fries? I leaned farther forward. “Holy crap is that a pickle?”
Zep just sighed and shook the vomit off his shoes. “Look, why don’t I take Addie back to my apartment. She needs to sleep this off,” he glanced at me as I sank deeper into his hold, “and fast.” Without warning, I felt myself being lifted off the ground and cradled against a hard chest. My head wanted to protest, but that dreamlike state between sleep and reality began to blend, leaving me happily buzzed and watching the back and forth volley.
“I feel like a human football,” I giggled.
Pope stared intently at Zep, studying his face as if to report details to a sketch artist later. “I don’t know about this, Adelaide.”
Savannah touched his arm. “It’s fine, Addie and Zep go way back.”
I raised my arms out to Pope. “Your turn…interception…go for the goal, Pope!”
He raised his brow. “She really can’t handle alcohol, can she?”
“Nope.”
A devilish laugh reverberated in Savvy’s voice. “Besides, I want to see how this plays out. You know the old saying, in vino veritas.”
“Do not speak Spanish around me. That’s not fair!” I slurred. I shifted as a pain shot through my lower abdomen. “Ouch! What the hell?” Reaching into my jacket pocket, I squealed as I pulled out a small wooden figurine. “Savvy! Oh, my God, I forgot the Roodoo Doll!”
Zep’s brow furrowed and the little line in between his eyes deepened in confusion. “The what?”
I giggled while making it dance on his shoulder. “The Roodoo Doll. Babs whittled a voodoo doll of my husb—I mean my ex-husband Roland. I meant to do some evil crap to it tonight and I forgot.” My mouth turned down in disappointment. “The night’s over and Roland didn’t get what’s coming to him.
Zep never showed any emotion as he took the doll out of my hands. “Give me this. I’ll take care of it.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“I’ll tell you someday.”
“Tell me now.”
“You always were impatient.”
“And you always were such a dick.”
From the side, I heard Pope whisper to Savannah. “Are they always like this?”
She laughed quietly. “Always have been, always will be. It’s a love/hate relationship.”
“They love to hate?”
“We’ll see,” she grinned. “They don’t know if they love hating each other or hate loving each other. Either way, something’s about to blow up like you’ve never seen.”
“And what about you, Savannah? Feel like hanging with a man on the job and seeing the sights of NOLA?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“Savvy!” I called to my sister as Zep carried me away. I clawed his back while she waved and blew me a kiss. My sister was no dummy and knew I wasn’t in danger. At least not physically.
Mentally? I was fucked.
I needed aspirin.
And maybe a blowtorch to burn all my hair off because dried puke just was so not fixable. My mouth tasted like a dog had shit inside of it, and I ended up sleeping in Zep’s bathtub.
At least he’d tried to hold my hair, but after my fifth round of hugging the toilet, he’d given up and threw a bowl on my head.
Classy.
No wonder he had women throwing themselves at his doorstep.
Sometime during the night, he came into the bathroom and took off my shoes and covered me up with a blanket and put a pillow under my head. I guess he wasn’t all bad. Somewhere underneath all that smelly fish scale exterior and STD infested skin, lay the heart of the Grinch that may have grown 2 centimeters last night.
Aw, pitter patter goes my heart.
I wanted not to like him. I wanted to fight with him and prove to myself that he was still the asshole who invited me to the final bonfire of the football season only to have Lindsey Lovell sitting on his lap devouring his face. I wanted to believe that he didn’t give a shit about me or my feelings, and it pissed me off that he kept showing me otherwise.
Climbing out of the bathtub, I found some toothpaste, and finger brushed my teeth, fluffing my wild ass hair. I chanced a quick look in the mirror and groaned before quickly looking away. Great. I looked like I stuck my finger in an electric socket and fried from the inside out.
Whatever. He probably invited a woman over after I passed out anyway.
As I reached for the doorknob, that’s when I noticed my bare legs.
And the t-shirt. And nothing else. My skirt and top were gone. He’d changed me.
Oh. My. God.
Instead of my clothes, I wore an oversized purple New Orleans Saints t-shirt with nothing on but my panties. My cheeks flamed a hot red as my heart raced. Part of me wanted to hide out in the bathroom all day until he left, but the other (and much stronger part) wanted to fly outside the door, rip his dick off and force feed it to him.
Bottling all my anger, I flung the door open and tore through the house, following the smell of cooking bacon and brewing coffee. The minute I saw him in the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks, and my mouth fell open. With his back to me, he stood in the kitchen in a pair of tight red boxer shorts and nothing else. Loud music was playing in the background, and he swayed his hips to the beat of Gorilla by Bruno Mars. The song itself was enough to send a flush straight up my neck and heat my cheeks, but the way his hips undulated with every sinful beat of the song forced mine to emulate them, and soon, we were in complete sync.
“I trust you slept well? Delta makes a hell of a tub, huh?” He laughed with his back still turned.
Flustered, I stopped dancing and stood frozen. “How…” I cleared my throat. “How’d you know I was here?”
“Smell, Addie.” He grinned while flipping bacon strips in a hot pan. “You smell like day old vomit.”
Okay, not the answer I expected. “Oh.”
He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “I’m kidding. I heard you.” He tapped the floor with his toe. “Wooded floors. I hear everything.” Grabbing a mug, he poured coffee and dumped half a cup of creamer in it. As he turned around, he paused, his eyes traveling the length of my body and settling on my thighs. Finally finding his vo
ice, he pushed the mug toward me. “Coffee?”
Grateful, I took it and warmed both my hands around it. “You remembered.” It wasn’t a question as much as a statement. Not many people knew I took my coffee with more creamer than coffee. Roland liked his as black as his heart, and made everyone else’s that way too. Come to think of it, I don’t recall him ever making anything in the kitchen, even coffee.
Zep shrugged. “Somethings you don’t ever forget.”
We stood in silence as I shifted my stance from foot to foot. Not able to stand it anymore I tugged on the shirt. “Did you…uh…did you change me?”
He bit his bottom lip and scratched his thick beard. “Yeah. You threw up all over your clothes. I’m washing them now. I tried not to look, don’t worry.”
Awkward, I moved toward the table and sat down, desperate to hide from his view. I propped my chin on my hand and offered him one of my most winning smiles to deflect the conversation. “So, anyone interesting in your life, Zep?”
He eyed me curiously. “Lately? I’d have to say yes.”
For some odd reason that I couldn’t explain, the news gut punched me. “Oh. Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you.”
He stared at me intently while setting a plate of bacon and eggs on the table. “Are you?”
Picking up a slice of bacon, I studied it. “Sure. Why not? Everyone deserves to be happy.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you happy, Adelaide? Do you know what you want?”
His intent stare, coupled with my returning nausea knocked me off balance. The crispy strip of bacon mocked me and I dropped it back onto the plate, pushing it away.
“Something wrong?”
I gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know when it happened, but I think I’m a vegetarian. It feels like cannibalism to eat bacon now that we have Kevin Junior Bacon Cheeseburger as a pet. Does that sound psychotic?”
Zep laughed, holding his stomach as tears formed in his eyes. “Oh shit, Savannah is rubbing off on you, isn’t she?”
I glared at him, horrified. “No!”
“It’s a good thing, Addie. You help each other. You being back is a good thing.” He reached across the table and entwined our hands. “A very good thing.”