FrenchQuarter.htm by Alexander Lacey (good fiction books to read TXT) 📗

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Can I make dinner for you, here at my place?”

Liz had missed the cozy privacy of his apartment and couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather see him. “That…would be nice,” she struggled to get out.

“Seven?”

She glanced at the clock, then down at herself. She had a lot of grooming to do. “Seven-thirty.”

“I can’t wait, chere.”

“I’ll…be there,” she said. Hanging up the phone, she fell back into the nearest easy chair.

What had just happened here? Was she feeling too happy too fast? This didn’t mean he loved her—it didn’t even mean he wanted to get back together. But he’d sounded so sexy, so seductive. And the important thing was that she would see him in only a couple of hours. And that the night, like every night in the French Quarter, was full of possibilities.

* * * * *

She showed up in a long, pretty, flowing dress that bloomed with tiny blue and purple flowers and made her look like some kind of beautiful storybook fairy princess. Well, a sexy storybook fairy princess, because the dress clung to her curves and possessed a low v-neck that instantly made Jack want to kiss the shadowy valley between her breasts and run his hands over her lush curves. He checked the urge and hoped he’d have the chance later. “It’s good to see you,” he said, standing back to let her in.

Her smile—the sweet, timid one he’d seen on more than a few occasions—seemed to radiate through him. “You, too.”

He took her hand—merde, just to touch her again was so damn good—and led her out onto the balcony. He held out her chair as she sat down at the table he’d set with good dishes and linen napkins, and even a small vase of fresh flowers.

She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “This looks so nice.”

“It’s all for you, chere. I hope you like it.”

Her smile said yes, and he couldn’t help smiling back.

After reaching into the ice bucket he’d brought out earlier, then pouring wine in two stemmed glasses, he returned to the kitchen where he’d prepared a Cajun feast. He hoped he’d made a good decision, but deep inside he wasn’t worried—something told him he had.

“I never asked if you like Cajun food, darlin,’ but if this doesn’t suit you, just say so and we’ll order somethin’ in.” With that, he set down a large plate for each of them, both heaping with piles of his homemade jambalaya, red beans and rice, Cajun shrimp, and crawfish cakes.

She cast a tentative smile as she lifted her gaze from the plate to his eyes. “To tell you the truth, in all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never really tried any Cajun food.”

Taking a seat across from her, he raised playful eyebrows. “An adventurous girl like you?”

She laughed lightly. “As you well know, I didn’t used to be so adventurous. And I suppose my taste in food was a lot like me—I’ve always played it safe. When I go to a restaurant, I order something tried and true.”

He tilted his head. “Mais, are you willin’ to try this, or should we get somethin’ else? I don’t mind if you’d rather go for a steak and baked potato.”

She reached for her fork. “As you said, I’m much more adventurous now, so I’ll give this a try.”

Jack watched as she lifted a bite of his jambalaya to her lovely berry lips. A moment later, she gave him another smile. “Spicy, but I like it.”

He couldn’t help laughing. In one simple sentence, she’d summed up his feelings for her.

One by one, she tried each of the other dishes, and one by one, she gave her approval, finally thanking him for introducing her to so many Cajun delicacies all at once. “I didn’t really know how much I liked hot things before.”

Again, he grinned at her unintended double entendre. This time he couldn’t help himself from saying, “I did, chere.”

She blushed and he laughed. “Darlin’, there you go again.”

“Old habit,” she said, swallowing, looking nervous. “And…I haven’t seen you in a while. I suppose my comfort level has…faded a little.”

“My fault,” he supplied. “And I need to tell you why.”

She blinked, looking interested in what he had to say, and reached for her wine. “I’d like to know…what happened. I mean, I know it was me who changed my mind about moving in with you, but I never wanted to stop seeing you.”

He tilted his head, wanting to get the truth on the table right now. He wanted her honesty back, every blunt, lovely, raw part of it. “You didn’t change your mind about movin’ in with me, chere. Todd changed it for you.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Darlin’, I hid some surveillance cameras in Todd’s house, but then I fell behind on my work, so it took me this long to get around to lookin’ at ‘em all. Late last night I watched the tape from that day after you said you’d come live with me. I saw his threats, Liz. I know why you sent that message now.”

He shook his head, continuing. “But back then…I didn’t understand. I was just hurt, and angry. I thought you didn’t want to be with me…be with me in a way that means somethin’, a way that lasts. I fucked up. I should’ve called you. I was an idiot to go runnin’ in the opposite direction, but I was afraid of exactly that—of gettin’ hurt, and I didn’t want to get hurt any worse than I already was. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings that I didn’t spend enough time tryin’ to figure out yours.” And the truth, of course, was that he still didn’t know her feelings, not really. He hoped she cared for him, hoped she wanted the same thing he did from their relationship. But he wasn’t going to push that right now. There was more to tell her.

“I took that tape to the police this mornin’, chere. They were