Текст книги "Easy Love"

Автор книги: Kristen Proby

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Chapter Four

Kate

“Good mornin’,” Savannah says with a smile and hugs me after leading me into her office. “Thanks for coming in so early.”

“I figured we could go over the details before I head down to HR and meet my new boss.” I set my purse on the floor next to the chair and take in Van’s office. “Nice place you have here.”

“Thanks.” Van grins. “Quite a step up from that apartment we all shared at college.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” I reply. “But, yes, this is great. I’m proud of you.”

“Okay, so tell me what happens now.”

“Well, not much for the next few weeks. I need my coworkers to believe that I’m just another assistant. Then, as things settle and I’m not being watched as much, I’ll start investigating. You know I’m good with the computer, I can hack and sneak around and no one will ever know I’ve been there.”

“Do we lie and say we don’t know each other?” Van asks with a frown.

“No.” I shake my head and smile ruefully. “This is new for me, in that I’ve never worked in a place where I know the owners, but I think that if anyone asks, I’ll just say that I went to college with you. Leave it at that.”

“Why do I think we won’t be having lunches together?”

“Because we won’t. I need people to feel comfortable talking to me, and they won’t if they think that I’m best friends with the boss.”

“You are best friends with the boss.”

I shrug. “They don’t have to know that.”

“This whole thing pisses me off,” Van says with a sigh. “I love having you here, but I hate that someone is stealing from us.”

“We’ll find them. It’s just going to take a little time.” I reach across the desk and grip Van’s arm reassuringly. “I promise.”

She nods and then frowns. “Okay, change of subject. I’m sorry I wasn’t available to meet you yesterday.”

I sit back in my seat and school my features. “I told you, it was fine.”

“Was Eli okay?”

“What do you mean?” I ask with a raised brow.

“I’m sure he was perfectly nice, but was he…too nice?”

“What are you asking me, Van?”

“Look, I told him to leave you alone, and then I practically dumped you at his feet yesterday.”

“Wait.” I hold my hand up and glare at my friend. “You told him to leave me alone?”

“Of course I did.”

I blink at her and then stand and pace across the room. So, was he just hanging out with me, kissing me, yesterday as a rebellious act against his bossy sister?

“Why?” I turn and face her, hands propped on my hips. She looks down at her desk, suddenly looking flummoxed.

“Well, because, you know Eli—”

“Actually, I don’t.” I cross my arms. “I’d never met him before yesterday. But I’ll tell you this,” I lean on her desk, towering over her, suddenly so angry on both my and Eli’s behalf that I’d be baffled if I stopped and gave it too much thought. “Eli was nothing but polite yesterday. He escorted me to my loft and to Declan’s show last night.”

“Look, Kate, I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t know why you think you had to warn your brother off me. I’m a grown woman, a professional woman, who certainly doesn’t flop down on her back for any man who smiles at her and crooks his finger, which your brother did not. So, I think you’ve misjudged both of us.”

“Wow, you’re pissed.”

“I am so bloody mad at you right now.”

“When you get mad, your Irish shows through.” Her lips twitch, but I’m not done being mad at her yet.

“I’m here to do a job, not start an affair. I won’t be here that long.”

“You like him,” Van murmurs with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know him!” I repeat in exasperation. Yes, I like him! He kisses like a dream, and I want to climb his hot body and have my wicked way with him!

Not that I’m going to tell her that.

“I just didn’t want him to set his sights on you and have you eventually hurt. I know you’re still—”

“I’m fine.” I shake my head, not wanting to go down this road with Van, not today. I have a long day ahead of a new job, and bringing my own baggage into it won’t be productive. “I promise, I’m fine. Now, I need to get down to HR. I don’t want to be late on my first day.”

“I’ll walk you down.” She stands, but I shake my head.

“No thanks. No favoritism, remember?” I shoot her a grin and walk toward her door.

“Kate, if you want to talk about—”

“Do you want to talk about Lance?” I ask without turning around, and the room is suddenly filled with a heavy silence as I shake my head and open her door. “I didn’t think so. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

***

“This is Hilary,” Linda Beals, the head of HR informs me as she leads me to my new office. “She’s been promoted to another position here in the company, but is going to stay with you today to show you the ropes.”

Hilary, a woman who looks to be a few years older than me smiles and stands, offering her hand to shake. “Pleasure,” she says.

“Hello,” I reply and smile at Linda, as she assures me that I’m in good hands, and leaves me with Hilary.

“So, you’re taking over as Mr. Rudolph’s assistant,” Hilary says, stating the obvious.

“It seems so,” I reply and sit in the desk chair next to hers behind my new desk. “How long have you been with him?”

“Oh, gosh, about twelve years now, I guess.” Hilary leans in as if she’s about to tell me a big secret. “He’s really very easy to work with, as long as you make his coffee just so.”

“You make his coffee?” I ask with a raised brow. “That’s a little old school.”

She shrugs and starts pulling files out of her drawer. “I don’t mind. Now, let’s get started. You only have me for today, but I’ll just be one floor up, so if you ever have questions, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thanks.”

“Did Linda show you around?”

“No, she just brought me down here after she went over my paperwork.” I glance around my small, simple office, and see exactly why Van put me here. It’s a corner space, and I’m able to see down two corridors of offices, and into the windows of said offices.

“Sounds about right,” Hilary replies with a roll of the eyes. “After we go over these things, we’ll take a break, and I’ll give you a grand tour.”

“Sounds good.”

“Are you new to town?”

“Yes, very new.”

“Well, I think you and I will be good friends.” She smiles and then stands when a man walks in, looking harried and busy. “Mr. Rudolph, this is your new assistant, Kate.”

“Hello,” he says with a distracted smile and shakes my hand, his grip firm. He’s probably in his early forties, with thinning hair over a handsome face, with a nose just a couple sizes too big, and he wears thick-rimmed glasses on his face. He’s not terribly tall, but he’s wiry thin. “Hilary will show you the ropes, but let me know if you have any questions.” And with that, he disappears into his office just off of mine and shuts the door firmly behind him.

“He’s a man of few words,” I remark with a smile.

“Yeah, he’s not terribly chatty,” Hilary confirms.

“Miss O’Shaughnessy?” A man asks as he walks into my office, carrying a large bouquet of happy sunflowers.

“Yes,” I reply with surprise.

“These are for you.”

I gape in surprise as he sets the flowers on my desk, waits for my signature, and then leaves.

“Wow, sugar, those are impressive.”

I nod and pull the small envelope out of the plastic holder in the center of the bouquet and open it, facing away from Hilary, so she can’t read over my shoulder.

Kate-

Welcome. Have a good first day.

Best Wishes,

Eli

“Who are they from?” Hilary asks.

The sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life, but I have no idea why he sent them because nothing good can come of it.

“My parents,” I lie easily, and shove the card in my pocket. Eli said he doesn’t play games, yet he kisses me like he’d like to devour me, says it’s a bad idea, and then sends me flowers?

“Oh, how lovely.” Hilary begins to chat about her own family while she sets me up with new passwords on the several software programs we use and shows me her routine, and all the while my mind wanders exactly where it shouldn’t: to Eli.

Does he think he can sweet talk me with a few pretty blooms?

Okay, maybe the flowers are sweet, but I don’t get it. I was up long after I turned off the lights and climbed into bed last night. I could still feel him against me, hear his low, rumbly voice. My body was on fire, and the man had really barely touched me. Sure, that kiss was combustible, and just the casual way he laid his hand on my back, or linked our fingers, sent my body into a tailspin unlike any I’ve ever felt.

Even with my ex-husband, and I don’t know for sure what that says about me.

By lunch time, I’ve been shown Hilary’s complete routine from start to finish, I’ve been given a tour of the building and introduced to everyone in the department, and Hilary was kind enough to show me exactly how Mr. Rudolph likes to have his coffee made.

Oh, and it must be on his desk by 8:05 every morning. Sharp.

Because, apparently, this is 1956, and it’s important to bring the boss man his coffee.

Hilary and two other assistants from our department, Suzanne and Taylor, invite me to join them for lunch, and I eagerly accept, hoping against hope that one of them lets something slip and I can wrap this case up early.

Of course, I’m not that lucky.

“So, where are you from, Kate?” Taylor asks, as she munches on her sandwich, careful not to get her perfectly manicured hands dirty. She’s short and lusciously curvy with dark hair that is styled in a short bob and has big brown eyes.

“Yes, tell us about you,” Suzanne, Taylor’s exact opposite with blonde hair, tall, statuesque figure, and bright blue eyes agrees, while Hilary nods expectantly and pops a chip in her mouth.

“Well, I grew up in the Denver area,” I reply, easily keeping the details vague. “Are you all from here?”

“Hilary and I are,” Suzanne replies, “but Taylor just moved here from Florida last year.”

“What part of Florida?” I ask.

“Orlando,” she replies with a wrinkle of the nose. “I left one hot, humid city for another.”

“What were you thinkin’?” Suzanne asks with a laugh. “I think we’re going to try to take the kids to Disney World next year.”

And just like that, the subject is redirected from me, and I sit in silence and listen while I nibble my sandwich and chips and sip my diet soda.

***

My phone is vibrating in my handbag as I push my way into my loft after a long day in the office. I drop my keys and briefcase on the kitchen table and dig out the phone, grinning when I see Van’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey, boss lady.”

“How was your first day, dear?” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Pretty much the usual. Choose forty-five different passwords, each with a different number, symbol, and the blood of a virgin, then gossip about the boss, not my boss, mind you, and the two assistants having an affair three offices over, learn how to make the boss his coffee, and walk home in the sweltering heat in a suit jacket.”

“So, it wasn’t boring then,” she replies dryly, as I eye the boxes that were delivered this afternoon and are now stacked in my living room.

“Nope, not boring.” Tedious, long, and I wanted to poke my own eye out with something hot and sharp, but not boring. “I just got home.”

“Do you like the loft?” I can hear Lance’s voice in the background, asking Van something about where his golf glove is, to which she says no.

“It’s really beautiful. I love the balcony off the bedroom. I think I’ll have some wine out there before bed tonight. My stuff arrived today.”

“Good. Settle in and make yourself at home. Do you want to have breakfast in my office in the morning? You could come the same time as today and I’ll have everything ready.”

“Sneaky breakfast, I like it.” I grin and sigh happily. I missed her. “You don’t mind going in that early?”

“Pshaw, no. I usually show up that early every day. This will be a much better start to my day.”

I bite my lip to keep from asking her why she shows up to work before seven in the morning every day, because I already know.

Lance.

I wish she’d talk about it, but I know she won’t. Maybe one night I’ll ply her with a bottle of wine and get her to unload on me.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“It’s a date. ‘Night.”

“’Night,” I reply and end the call, then order in pizza and put the bottle of wine I bought on my way home from work into the fridge on my way to the bathroom for a long, cool shower.

It’s bloody hot outside.

I need to start dressing in layers for work, with something light under my jackets, so I’m not so damn hot by the time I get home.

The shower is cool and rejuvenates me. Just when I’m pulling on my shorts and a tank top, the doorbell rings.

Thank God, I’m starving.

I carry the pizza to the kitchen, grabbing my iPad on the way, pour myself a glass of wine, then decide screw it and tuck the whole bottle under my arm and walk through my bedroom to the balcony. There is a small wrought iron table with two comfortable, plush chairs out here, and I settle in to watch the sun set and the people wander through the Quarter on their way home from work or walking their dogs, tourists wandering.

It’s like a moving painting, never the same, but familiar. The person who owns the herb shop below me must have got some fresh lavender in today, because the smell is brighter and lovelier than yesterday.

I prop my feet up on the unused chair and nibble on a slice of pizza and sip my wine, perfectly content to stay right here until bedtime.

“Did you get my flowers?”

I turn my head to the left, and there is my neighbor, Eli, sitting in a similar chair, only about ten feet away. And, instantly, I’m pulled toward him in the most elemental way possible.

Which is ridiculous. He’s only a man.

“I didn’t hear you come outside,” I reply.

“You were too busy munching on that pizza and looked about a million miles away.” He props his feet up, laces his fingers behind his head, and flashes me a smile that I feel all the way to my core.

Does he have to be this handsome? Seriously?

I take a sip of my wine, finishing the glass, and refill it.

“Have you had dinner?” I ask.

“No, ma’am.”

“Here.” I pass the pizza box over the ornate railing that separates our balconies. “I have lots of food.” Then I fill my glass and pass him the bottle of wine as well. “But only one glass.”

He stands and disappears into his house, then quickly returns with his own glass and flashes me that heart-stopping smile as he reclaims his seat and takes a big bite of pizza.

“This is good.”

“Hilary said they were the best in the neighborhood,” I inform him.

“Who’s Hilary?” He frowns in confusion, making me grin.

“The woman whose position I took. She trained me today.”

“So, it went well then?” His gaze is sober, and if I’m not mistaken, concerned, making me soften toward him even more.

“It did. No problems.”

“Good.” He chews on his crust and tilts his head at me. “Did you get my flowers?”

I nod slowly. “Why did you send them?”

He opens his mouth to answer, and then chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m not sure. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Because you kissed me?”

His smile fades as he watches me over the railing, and I know that the replay of yesterday is running through his head just like it is mine. “No.”

“Did you kiss me because Van told you not to?”

He narrows his eyes in temper, his jaw ticking, and then simply says, “No.”

“Why?”

“The kiss or the flowers?”

“The flowers.” I can figure out the kiss on my own. It’s called chemistry, and we’ve got it in spades.

He frowns and looks into his wine glass. “I don’t know.”

“That’s…not helpful.” I chuckle and offer him another slice of pizza, which he declines with a shake of the head.

“Honestly?”

“Well, I don’t want you to lie to me.”

“I’ve been asking myself why all day. And the only thing I can come up with is, I like you, and I wanted you to have a good day.”

I sit and stare at him and realize that he’s telling me the honest truth, and that he might be as confused by it as I am.

Huh.

“Well, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He grins, as if he’s thinking of an inside joke, and I can’t help but smile back.

“What are you thinking?”

“The sunflowers reminded me of you.”

“Big and yellow?”

“Happy. You have a great smile.”

I exhale loudly and watch him carefully. “You confuse me.”

“We’re on the same page there.”

“You said this is a bad idea, and you’re right. Bad idea is tattooed all over it with huge neon letters.”

He nods. “I know. So, for tonight, I’m going to stay over here and you’re going to stay over there, and we’re just going to enjoy the evening and this wine.”

I watch as he raises a brow and waits for my response.

“When was the last time you sat out on the balcony to watch the sunset?” I ask.

“I haven’t been home before the sunset in years,” he replies honestly.

“Why tonight?”

He shakes his head again and watches a man jog by with a huge black lab on a leash. “I couldn’t say.”

I want to ask him if he can’t or won’t, but instead, I just nod and leave it be for tonight. “It’s a good evening for sitting outside,” I say instead.

“That it is.”

Chapter Five

It’s been a hell of a week.

By Friday night, I’m exhausted. Administrative assistants work their asses off. Not that I didn’t already know this; I’ve just never personally worked as one, regardless of what my resume on file in Linda’s office says. I’m ready to take a cool shower and curl up with a good book and a glass of wine.

I make it through the shower and change into sweat shorts and a tank, just as my doorbell rings.

I frown, tempted to ignore it, but when the bell rings for the third time, and then a fist pounds on the wood with a loud, “We know you’re in there!” I walk over and swing open the door.

“Did I forget that we were having dinner?” I ask and watch with a wry grin as Savannah and Declan both push their way inside, stopping to kiss my cheek as they pass, their hands and arms loaded down with bags of food.

“We decided to surprise you.” Declan sets down his bags and pulls me in for a big hug. “We’re gonna sit around and eat fattening food and drink wine. Well, I have to leave after dinner for tonight’s gig, but I’m still having a little wine.”

“Just like the old days,” Savannah adds with a grin. My cheek is pressed to Dec’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, as he rubs his hands up and down my back. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a hug until this very minute.

“You okay?” he asks and plants his lips on my head.

“Yeah.” I don’t pull away, and instead watch Savannah as she pulls white Styrofoam containers out of plastic bags, laying the food out buffet style on my table. She has dark circles under her tired hazel eyes, and she looks way too thin in her jeans and plain black T-shirt.

“You survived your first week,” Van says, as she opens a bottle of wine and pours it into three glasses.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I ask with a laugh, as I pull away from Dec and accept a glass.

“No, I just figured we’d use that as an excuse to celebrate,” she replies with a wink. “I brought your favorite: Italian. With fattening Alfredo sauce and lots of extra bread.”

“You do love me.” I offer Van a wide smile and snatch the bread first. “God, I love carbs. Why do I love carbs so much?”

“Because they’re bad for you,” Van replies. “They’re every woman’s kryptonite.”

“I thought that was shoes,” Declan says, as he piles his own plate high with pasta, sauce, and bread.

“No, shoes are a necessity,” I inform him soberly. “Like water.”

“Women are weird,” Dec says with a laugh, and makes himself at home on the floor, his back leaning against my sofa. His long, lean body is relaxed as he eats his dinner, and he reminds me of his older brother. Dec’s just as tall and broad in the shoulders as Eli.

The Boudreaux men are prime examples of the male species.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to fully understand each other,” I reply, and lick sauce off my finger.

“How are you?” Van asks, as she nibbles on a piece of bread. She barely took any food. I eye her plate and then stare her in the eye, but she shakes her head and narrows her eyes at me.

“I’m fine,” I reply.

“No, really,” Dec says, his usually smiling face sober now.

“No, really,” I insist. “I’m fine.”

“When was the divorce final?” Van asks.

“Sixty-four days ago,” I reply before I can catch myself, then wince when they both turn surprised gazes on me, and share a glance with each other.

“You’re counting the days and you’re fine?” Dec asks.

“Heck, yes, I’m counting the days. That divorce was hard won.” I stuff more chicken and pasta in my mouth and point at both of them with my fork. “You know that.”

“You should have let me deck him,” Declan insists. He lowers his fork to his plate, his eyes hot with temper as he glances at me. “Only a lowlife son of a bitch does what he did to you.”

“It might have been satisfying to watch you hit him.” I lick my fork clean as I think of my strong friend kicking my ex-husband’s ass. “Do you still do that Krave Magnus stuff?”

“Krav Maga,” he corrects me with a laugh. “And you should do it too. It’s great self defense.”

“I’ll just add that to my list of things to do.” I tilt my head as I watch Van push her pasta around her plate, lost in thought. “I’m thinking about becoming a lesbian and joining a nudist colony.”

“Now, that, I’d like to see,” Declan declares with a roguish grin, but then follows my gaze and swears under his breath. “She’s not listening.”

“Not even a little bit,” I agree. “Earth to Van.”

“Huh?” She jerks her gaze up and takes another long sip of her wine, then refills her glass.

“Now it’s your turn to talk.”

“We haven’t finished with you,” she says, but I just grin at her.

“Yes, we have. Dec and I just discussed me turning lesbo and joining a nudist colony.”

“I’m all for it,” Declan agrees, earning a glare from his twin sister.

“How bad are things, Van? And don’t deny it. You look like poop, and you deflect when asked. I’m the master of those tactics.”

She glances nervously at her brother and then back at me. “You don’t need to worry—”

“Spill it, Van.” Dec’s voice is calm, his posture relaxed, but every muscle in his body is on high alert.

He’s ready to kick butt.

And so am I, for that matter.

“Things just aren’t going very well,” Savannah murmurs softly.

“Is he hurting you?” Declan asks.

“He’s…ignoring me.” She sets her plate aside and pulls her knees up into her chest, hugging her legs tight. “Unless he can’t find something, he just pretty much does his own thing.”

“Who else is he doing?” I ask, and set my own finished dinner aside, then just raise a brow when Van stares at me and chews her bottom lip.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to grab Eli and Beau, and we’re going to—”

“Nothing,” Van insists, laying her hand on Dec’s shoulder. “You’re going to do nothing.”

“Fuck that, Vanny,” he says and stares at her as if she’s lost her mind. “He’s fucking around on you and you want us to ignore it?”

“I don’t have proof.” She shrugs and smiles sadly. “It’s just a hunch.”

“Promise me,” Dec says and pulls her close to hug her, “that you’ll call me, day or night, if you need me.”

“I will.”

“If you find proof—” I begin.

“I’ll kick his ass myself,” she finishes. She pulls out of Declan’s embrace and begins cleaning up.

“See, this is exactly why I’m not ever getting married,” Dec says. “I’d kill myself before I’d hurt a woman, and that seems to be all marriage is good for. Pain.”

“Mom and Dad were married for more than thirty-five years,” Van reminds him.

“Mine have been married for thirty-five,” I add. “They’re not all bad.”

“Still, I’ll stick to the way things have always been.”

“Why are all my brothers man-whores?” Van asks me, as if Dec’s not sitting right next to her.

“Because they’re all hot and sexy and have women falling at their feet?”

“You think I’m hot and sexy?” Dec asks with a charming smile. “Aww, dawlin’. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Are you falling at Eli’s feet?” Van asks, surprising me. Declan sobers and they both stare at me with matching hazel eyes.

“Heck no,” I insist. “I don’t fall at any man’s feet.”

“Atta girl.” Van salutes me with her wine and drains the glass.

“Oh, by the way, Mama has given us instructions to bring you to dinner on Sunday.” Declan grins. “I’ll pick you up on my way over.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your family dinner.”

“She might kill us if we don’t bring you,” Van assures me.

“Or not feed us, which would be worse,” Declan adds. “You’re coming.”

“Thank you,” I reply and grin at my friends. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“It’s you we’re happy to see, dawlin’,” Declan replies with a wink. “Did you bring dessert, Vanny?”

“Of course.”

“Stop holdin’ out on me.”

***

I sleep late the next morning. My biggest vice is sleeping late on the weekends. I despise the alarm clock. I open my eyes slowly and stretch in the soft king sized bed, then lie on my back and stare out the French doors at the bright blue sky.

As I begin to ponder what might be on today’s agenda, my doorbell rings.

I glance at the clock and scowl. It’s nine in the freaking morning on a Saturday. Who in the world could be ringing my bell?

I climb out of bed and don’t even bother to throw a robe over my tank and pink frilly panties. Whoever is stupid enough to show up at my place at this hour is just going to have to take me the way they get me.

It’s most likely Savannah anyway. She always was a morning person.

I hate that.

I yank the door open and scrub my free hand over my face. “Seriously, Van, you just left here like six hours ago. Did you forget something?”

“Savannah was here until three this morning?”

I drop my hand and stare up in shock at a grinning Eli. His whiskey eyes are shining as he takes in my sleepy appearance, from the top of my ratted head, down my braless front, making my nipples pucker, thank you very much, to my pink tipped toes. On his way back up, his jaw drops when he sees my panties.

“Yes,” I squeak and cross my arms over my chest. “She and Declan came over for dinner and ended up staying. We always could talk for hours.”

“Did I wake you?” he asks, his voice low and intimate as he steps toward me. I move back, letting him inside, and close the door.

“No, I was just waking up.” I bite my lip. “Um, what are you doing here?”

“I need a favor.”

I feel my eyebrows climb into my hairline as I watch his eyes smile, but he purses his lips to keep the smile at bay. It’s…endearing.

“A favor?”

“Yes, dawlin’, a very important one.”

I tilt my head and feel my lips quirk into a half smile. “I’m listening.”

“I need an escort around the Quarter this mornin’.”

I prop my hands on my hips, and Eli’s eyes slowly sober, heat, and move from my eyes to my mouth and down to my breasts. He swears under his breath as I remember that I’m showing him way more than I should and recross my arms.

“You need an escort?”

He nods and catches my gaze in his again. “Yes, please.”

“I don’t know my way around,” I reply softly.

“I do.”

“So, why—”

“I’d like to show you around our neighborhood, cher,” he says softly. “What do you say?”

I chew my lip for a few seconds, and finally smile gratefully. I’ve been dying to walk around and explore the famous French Quarter. “I’d be happy to escort you.”

“You might want to choose a different outfit,” he says, as he gestures to my clothes. “I would hate to have to beat every man we walk past into the sidewalk for looking at you.”

I wave him off and turn to walk into my bedroom, but hear him mutter, “Although, you look amazing in anything you wear.”

This is not helping my nipples calm down. I close the door to the bedroom, lean back on it, and take a deep breath. This man is pure walking temptation. But he didn’t touch me. He smiled and invited me on a tour of the neighborhood. Sure, he checked out my chest, but I am braless, and my damn body reacts to him on a purely visceral level.

I can control myself for the day. No problem.

I nod and mentally pat myself on the back, then quickly tame my hair, brush my teeth, and pull on some denim capris and a blue sleeveless blouse. On my way out of the bedroom, I grab the green hat Eli bought me the other day, and slip my feet into a comfortable pair of Toms.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Eli is standing at my window, his hands in the front pockets of jeans that mold to his bottom and thighs just perfectly. His black T-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders, and his dark hair is still wet around the collar from his shower.

He turns and smiles when he sees me holding the hat.

“Good plan. It’s going to get hot today.”

“It’s hot every day,” I reply with a wry grin. He hands me my handbag and escorts me down to the sidewalk.

“This way.” He leads me to the right, his hand in its spot on the small of my back, and within two blocks, we’re at Jackson Square, in front of the St. Louis Cathedral where jazz musicians play enthusiastically on a variety of instruments, palm readers are just setting up their tables, and artists have set up their canvases on the iron fence surrounding the beautiful park that holds the large statue of President Jackson on his horse, giving the square it’s name.

“It’s beautiful down here,” I murmur, and smile at a man as he plays his saxophone.

“That it is,” Eli agrees, and leads me around the park toward a green building with a green and white awning and dozens of round tables with chairs under it. “We’ll start with breakfast.”

“There’s a long line,” I reply, and eye the line of people waiting patiently for a table.

“It moves fast,” he assures me, and leads me to the end of the line. “And it’s worth it.”

“Okay, tell me about Café du Monde,” I request, reading the sign on the awning.

“Best beignets in New Orleans,” he assures me. “This place has been here forever and hasn’t changed much.”

Before I know it, we move up the line and find a table near the sidewalk.

“The menu is on the napkin dispenser,” Eli informs me, and tilts it toward me. “But do you mind if I order for you?”

“I don’t mind.” I sit back and listen as Eli informs our server that we’ll each have an order of beignets and a frozen café au lait. I watch in fascination as horse-drawn carriages glide down the street before us, the drivers giving their passengers all kinds of information about Jackson Square, which is directly across the street from us. “Thank you for bringing me out today.”

Eli quirks a brow. “It’s you escorting me, remember?”

I grin and nod. “Right. Except you’re showing me around.”