by Cora Kenborn
Grabbing my purse and jacket, I yelled above the music. “Tell Savannah I’ll wait for her outside. Suddenly, this room has become unbearably filled with hot air.”
Without waiting for a response, I pushed my way through the throngs of people in 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. I decided to head back to the van to sleep it off, and then 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. Just as I sighed and dropped my head, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder and jerked me around.
“Just what the hell is your problem?” Zep stood in front of me, 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. It 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 mid-air and jerking me against him. “That the best you’ve got, Dubois?” he growled, his face inches from mine.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I wanted to know. I didn’t want to know. I had no clue what I wanted because his proximity was screwing with my head.
Zep swallowed hard, his chest heaving. 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. Christ, you have to be smart.”
“Is all this because of our precious business, Zephirin?” I couldn’t help it. My mouth opened and words fell out. Words I had no idea why they formed.
“Yeah, Adelaide.” Zep’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his throat working hard on an exaggerated swallow. “Obviously, it’s because of the business. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. Remember? We have a vested interest to protect. It sure as hell isn’t because of anything between us. You fucking made that clear a long time ago.”
His words were harsh, yet, his free hand gently rolled a lock of my hair in between his fingers, feeling each strand as it shifted beneath his skin.
“Do not go there,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “A lifetime has happened. 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 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. He stood there and took them without budging or moving, his glacier eyes drilling into me the whole time.
The fourth time I went to smack him, all seven Hurricanes hit me at once, and I tripped, my palm sailing through the air as I fell forward. Instead of letting me drop like a wet sack of rocks, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against his chest.
“Adelaide? Is that you? Are you all right? Who is this guy?”
Through my hazy vision, I recognized the blurry outline of Officer Quentin Pope. Dressed in a uniform and utility belt, there was no question of his intentions 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 because as much as I wanted to beat the shit out of the man, I didn’t want him arrested.
Pope side-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 with her hands waving, madder than fuck. “Adelaide Rose Dubois, what the 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 me all I needed to know. This was clearly a budding relationship put on hold due to distance. That first night back, I’d slept in the house with earphones in while the Viking Titmobile rocked back and forth like the Scooby Doo Mystery Machine. She’d been crabby as hell since Pope had gone to back NOLA, so I hadn’t brought it up. However, I had a feeling they’d been seeing each other on the sly. Seeing their instant connection just proved my suspicions.
Pope inched his way toward Savvy and brushed a piece of her dark hair away from her face. “What hotel are you two staying at tonight? It looks like 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.
“So, we just took off. We, uh, 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 scenario, you’ll end up gang banged and murdered.”
“You’re so pessimistic.” Rolling her eyes, she dropped his hand.
“No. Absolutely not,” Pope commanded, shaking his head. “I won’t allow it.”
I cringed. No one told Savannah what to do. Apparently, Pope hadn’t learned that nugget of wisdom yet.
My sister’s face heated, and her jaw ticked as she held up her hand in the night air. Flipping it forward and backward, she examined it with mocked intensity. “Interesting. I don’t see a ring.” Then, just because she was Savannah, she tapped her finger against 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. “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 a fantastic pillow, and my eyelids were obnoxiously heavy. However, as usual, my mouth refused to cooperate with my brain.
“Not going anywhere with you, LeBlanc.” Unfortunately, my mouth also decided to revolt. Right onto Zep’s shoes. “Ew,” I announced, glancing down. “When did I eat cheese fries? I leaned 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 down at me as I
sank deeper into his hold, “Sooner rather than later.”
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 verbal volleyball.
“I feel like a human football,” I giggled.
Pope stared intently at Zep, as if studying his face in case he needed 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 her 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.”
“That’s not fair!” I slurred. “I don’t speak Spanish.” 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 about the Roodoo doll!”
Zep’s brow furrowed, and the vertical line 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, but I forgot.” My mouth turned down in disappointment. “The night’s over, and Roland didn’t get what’s coming to him.”
Zep gave me a tight smile as he took the doll out of my hands. “Give me this. I’ll take care of it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell you someday.”
I stuck my bottom lip out. “Tell me now.”
He dipped his chin and stared down at me, an unreadable expression on his face. “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. “Yep. It’s a love/hate relationship.”
“They love to hate each other?”
“We’ll see.” She grinned. “They don’t know if they love hating each other or hate loving each other. Either way, something epic is about to happen.”
“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. She knew I wasn’t in danger.
At least not physically.
Mentally, I was fucked.
12
Saved By The Pope
Adelaide
New Orleans, Louisiana
I needed aspirin.
And possibly a blowtorch to burn all my hair off because dried puke was so not fixable. Not only was my head about to explode, my mouth tasted like a dog shit inside of it, and to top everything else off, I appeared to have slept in Zep’s bathtub.
The memories are fuzzy, but I can somewhat recall Zep holding my hair for the first couple of hours. However, after my fifth round of hugging the toilet, he gave up and threw a bowl on my head.
Classy.
No wonder he had women throwing themselves at his doorstep.
Sometime during the night, it seems he came into the bathroom, took off my shoes, 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 Cajun Grinch. One that just might have grown two millimeters last night.
Aw, pitter patter goes my heart.
I wanted to not 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 me find with 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.
The minute I reached for the doorknob, I noticed my bare legs.
And the t-shirt.
And nothing else.
Oh. My. God.
Instead of my skirt and top, I wore an oversized purple New Orleans Saints t-shirt with nothing on underneath but my panties. My cheeks flamed, and my heart raced. Part of me wanted to hide out in the bathroom all day until he left, but a 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, but the way his hips undulated with every sinful beat forced mine to emulate them. 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 froze. “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. “Wooden 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 voice, 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. It was just a polite gesture. I tried not to make a big deal out of the fact that he remembered I took my coffee with more creamer than coffee. Roland liked his as black as his soul and made everyone else’s that way too. Come to think of it, I don’t recall him ever making anything in the kitchen.
Zep shrugged. “Some things you don’t ever forget.”
I shifted my stance from foot to foot as we stood in silence. Not able to stand it anymore I tugged on the shirt. “Did you…um, 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.”
Feeling my cheeks heat, 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 reasons 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?”
I picked up a slice of bacon and 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. I glanced down, examining the crispy strip of bacon in my hand
as it mocked me. With a groan, I dropped it back onto the plate and pushed 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 wrong 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. “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.”
We both stared at our hands in silence. The feelings he stirred up made me both terrified and exhilarated, and I wanted to say something to make the moment last. Unfortunately, all that slipped out was the one thing that shouldn’t have.
“I’m married.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Where’s your husband, Addie?”
I answered honestly. “In bed with a stripper.”
“And where are you?”
“Half naked in your apartment.”
“Then your argument is null and void. Plus, I’ve never swung from a pole in my life.”
I let out a hearty laugh, and as silence filled the room again, I blurted out, “Roland never held my hair.”
Lifting my chin, he captured my face and held it between his large palms. “Roland never deserved you.”
Our lips hovered inches away from each other, and Zep’s eyes searched mine for permission just as the door swung open.
“I hope you don’t mind, but we knocked and no one answered,” Pope announced balancing a bag in one hand and coffee in the other. Savannah bounded in behind him wearing fresh clothes and a shit-eating grin. “I brought beignets. Who’s hungry?”
Zep’s face tightened in frustration, but I felt nothing but relief, her intrusion quelling the butterflies in my stomach. My sister had always had shitty timing, but in this instance, it couldn’t have been more perfect. Some mistakes weren’t meant to be repeated.
