The Red-Hot Cajun

by Sandra Hill

  Luc waved a hand airily. “Three degrees of separation. Good enough.”

  “I... I...” Val continued to sputter. His family had that effect on people sometimes.

  “She’ll try,” Rene offered for Val. Then to her, in an undertone, he said, “Just pretend you’re gonna try.

  They’ll forget about it eventually.”

  “I’m thinking about having a belly dance troupe come in for entertainment, too. The Scheherazades,”

  Charmaine said.

  My family ought to form its own carnival. Where do they come up with this shit?

  “Why belly dancers?” Rachel wanted to know.

  “Yeah, Chippendale dancers would be more appropriate for our dear ol’ aunt,” Luc said, chortling.

  Sylvie elbowed him again.

  “Because Tante Lulu and I took belly dancing lessons at one time under the Scheherazades. We even entered a competition, and she won,” Charmaine explained, beaming.

  That picture boggled the minds of them all. Not the picture of Charmaine, but Tante Lulu. “At her advanced age, the image of Tante’s Lulu’s wrinkled skin in a revealing harem outfit is not pretty,” Rend mused aloud.

  “I’ve seen her in a belly dancer outfit,” Rusty said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Actually, she looked kind of cute.”

  Charmaine kissed her husband on the cheek. “You are so sweet.”

  Rusty gave the guys a look that pretty much said, “You all could learn a thing or two from me.”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn belly dancing,” Sylvie said.

  Luc grinned at her.

  “Me, too,” Rachel said.

  Remy grinned at her.

  “You really should,” Charmaine advised. “You do know that belly dancers have much better orgasms, don’t you?”

  A pronounced silence fell over the table. Then everyone burst out laughing.

  “Well, it’s true,” Charmaine said, also laughing.

  “It is,” Rusty agreed. And Charmaine elbowed him.

  Rene glanced at Val, whose face was red as a beet. He would apologize for his family’s tendency to discuss intimate things, but then he thought, Nah. She’ll get used to it. If she stick s around that long.

  Hmmm. Will she stick around that long?

  “Well, it’s been nice, everyone, but I have to go,” Val said, standing abruptly.

  That answers my question about her sticking around.

  “I have an early morning flight to catch,” she elaborated.

  After a brief spurt of conversation all around, he stood next to her and said, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, darlin’,” he said, “I definitely do.”

  A walk on the wild side

  Valerie and Rene walked across the parking lot toward her car, which was parked near the end since she’d arrived late.

  “I would drive you home, but I have to perform the last set with my band,” he said.

  “Why do you keep making assumptions like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “That you would drive me home, simply because you chose to, as if I would have no say in the matter.”

  He looked down at her and grinned.

  “You have a nice family, Rene. You’re lucky.”

  “I’ve grown attached to them, but I’m surprised that you don’t think we’re a kooky bunch.”

  “I never said you weren’t kooky. But I learned a lot about people when training to be a jury consultant.

  You have to look beneath the surface. For example, you see a guy with sunglasses on a dreary day and the first reaction is he’s a shady character with something to hide, or he thinks sunglasses make him look macho. But there could be other reasons.”

  “Like?”

  “He has an eye disease. He is shy and hiding behind the dark lenses. He does in fact have something to hide. It was sunny earlier, and he forgot to take them off. Lots of reasons.”

  “And how does this apply to my family?”

  “Take Charmaine. She gives the impression of being a brainless bimbo. Her attire. Her manner of speaking. Her outrageousness. But if you listen carefully, you hear some intelligent words tossed in. You understand that she built two highly successful businesses, not just from being able to wield a curling iron, but having real business talent. I wonder what she is trying to camouflage with this persona she’s created for herself.”

  “That’s amazing. Tell me more.”

  “Well, Luc delights in portraying himself as a hick lawyer. Hawaiian shirts, being unshaven even in the courtroom, taking on outrageous cases. My aunts Margo and Madeline hate him for the time he represented that rusted-out trailer park against them in court. He actually convinced a jury that it was a historic treasure. Bottom line, he’s a shrewd lawyer who takes on the underdog, not a badass good-for-nothing.”

  He laughed at what she assumed was an accurate portrayal of his brother. “How about me?”

  “Aaaah,” she said. “You’re a harder nut to crack.”

  “Dark and mysterious, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “You could say that. I can’t believe that you let people think you are a shiftless coonass. You aren’t offended by that word, are you?”

  “Hell, no, coonass is a term of endearment amongst us Cajuns. Go on.”

  “I still haven’t totally figured you out yet. Like I said a minute ago, things aren’t always what they appear on the surface. Do you deliberately hide your intellect, your college degrees, and your true work because you are modest?”

  He snorted his opinion.

  “Or because you are involved in secret, dangerous missions?”

  “James Bond. That’s me, baby.”

  She smiled. “Maybe it’s sort of a slap in the face at people who misjudged you early on when you put a true face forth. You know that saying about you might as well play the game if you’ve got the name.”

  “Living up to my bad reputation?”

  “Precisely. Then again, it could be because you are insecure at heart. You really don’t think you are worth much. I suspect that living with Valcour LeDeux wouldn’t have done much for a kid’s self-esteem.

  Small-minded people might have made you feel like trash.”

  Rene said nothing to that, which made her think she had hit too close to the quick. She hadn’t intended to hurt him; so she decided to change the subject. “I can’t believe I have to get up in a couple of hours to get to the airport.”

  They arrived at her car. She turned and pressed her back against the driver’s door. He stood in front of her, fingering the lapels of her blouse.

  “Will you be coming back?”

  “Someday, I’m sure.”

  He shook his head. “Soon?”

  “I don’t know. It all depends on the outcome of my meetings on Monday.”

  “Come back,” he said in a voice that was raw with masculine need. The unspoken words were “to me.”

  And suddenly, she really did want to see him again. Well, not so suddenly. She’d been drawn to him ever since her return to Louisiana. “Do you think your aunt put a spell on us?”

  He smiled, understanding. “Either that, or it was St. Jude. They’re a powerful combination.”

  “I rather doubt a saint would plant such impure thoughts in my head.”

  “I don’t know about that. St. Jude has been known to use underhanded methods to gain his ends.” He thought for a second, then added, “You have impure thoughts about me?”

  She just nodded, staring fixedly at his mouth, which was full and parted and oh so tempting. “Kiss me,”

  she murmured, surprising not just him, but herself.

  “I want to make love with you sooo bad, but I want our first time together to be memorable, not against a car in a tavern parking lot. If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

  Valerie sighed. This man was potent with a capital P. But something he said niggled at her brain. “I
t wouldn’t be our first time.”

  She could swear his face got red then, though the lighting was dim at this end of the lot.

  “I have a little itty bitty confession to make,” he said.

  Her suspicious nature went on red alert. She didn’t have to be an expert in studying people to know something was up.

  “Actually, it will be our first time. You see, that other time, we didn’t really do anything.” He launched into a bumbling convoluted explanation dealing with premature ejaculations, lifelong embarrassment, and pink vomit. Finally, understanding seeped into her brain.

  She slapped him on the arm, the second time that night. When did violence come so easy to her?

  When Rene LeDeux re-entered her life, that’s when. “You lied to me.”

  “Did not,” he asserted. “I just failed to tell you that little itty bitty detail.”

  “You louse! I’ll give you itty bitty.” She began pounding his chest. “All these years you let me believe—”

  “No, no, no!” He pulled her into a tight bear hug so that her arms were restrained. “I only found out a few days ago when you disclosed that you had no memory of that night.”

  “And you failed to tell me then... why?”

  “I was embarrassed, and whew! What a relief to find out that you were never aware of my lack of finesse. But now you know.”

  “Let me go,” she said against his chest.

  “Are you going to hit me again?”

  She hesitated. “No.”

  When he released her, she said, “I despise dishonesty.”

  “I wasn’t dishonest... precisely.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Rene.”

  “I’m sorry. My only excuse... well, it’s a guy thing.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, exasperated. “You were only fifteen years old.”

  “Yeah, and believe you me, it was a big deal at the time. Having the rocket go off before all engines are firing is not a feat a guy wants to claim.”

  She had to smile.

  “Every day I went to school I expected to hear that you had finally told everyone of my failure.”

  “And every day I went to school expecting to hear that you had bragged about your conquest and my failure. Girls aren’t supposed to vomit the first time, I don’t think.”

  “We’re even then?” he asked hopefully.

  “Not even close,” she said.

  “You’re gonna make me pay, aren’t you?”

  “In spades. I have to go now.”

  “I had big plans for tonight.”

  “I could tell.”

  “Will you hit me if I try to kiss you good night?”

  “You said you wouldn’t be able to stop if you kissed me.”

  “I’ve cooled down since then.”

  Ihaven’t.

  He moved in closer and arranged her arms around his neck. Then he moved in even closer, pressing against her lower belly.

  “I thought you said you cooled off.”

  “That’s cool for me,” he said with a short laugh. “I should forewarn you, I am an expert kisser.”

  Iknow. “If you don’t mind saying so yourself?”

  “The best kisses are carefully arranged. For example, all other body parts should be perfectly aligned.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  He lifted her slightly by the butt so she was on tiptoe and rode the cleft of her jeans, just right.

  Somehow, her legs had become spread and he was between them—surprise surprise—just right.

  “Oh,” she said, answering her own question.

  While her tush half-sat against the car door and her arms were still loosely looped around his neck, he put both of his hands on her breasts and used his thumbs to bring the nipples to hard peaks. Realizing that she wore no bra, he made a low guttural sound, then slipped his hands under the hem and up till he caressed the naked flesh.

  Every part of Valerie’s body throbbed then. Her lips ached for his kiss; her breasts ached for rougher treatment from his hands; her female parts ached for all of his hard length pressed against her.

  “Oh, baby,” he said against her mouth as he finally took her in a kiss that was at once tender and devouring. His tongue stroked her mouth, in and out, simulating the sexual rhythm taking place below. Her tongue did the same to his mouth. It was hard to tell who was kissing whom, where he ended and she began. She felt her body coiling with tension and knew she had to stop before it went too far. Jerking her mouth away from his, she gasped, “No, Rene. I don’t want to come like this. Not again.”

  Still holding her, he arched his neck back, eyes closed, and inhaled and exhaled deeply, fighting for control. Finally he released her and stepped back. He was deeply aroused, she could tell without looking down. His eyes were half-lidded. His lower lip drooped in a sultry fashion. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  “Your wish is my command, princess,” he said, finally. With regret he turned to go, brushing his fingertips across her swollen mouth. At the last second, he turned and looked her in the eyes and said, “Come back when you can, chère. Wild horses won’t be able to stop me then. Next time we will make magic, I guar-an-tee.”

  That night, Valerie had dreams of magic.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Giving a new meaning to “Give me a buzz, baby”

  Rene called Val at four-thirty that morning.

  It was a really stupid thing to do. He’d played another set with his band after Val left. He’d sat around chewing the fat with his family for another hour after that. He’d gone back to Remy’s houseboat where he’d tried to read a book. And all that time he kept thinking about Val. Maybe she’d been right when she’d wondered if a spell had been put on them.

  And now, pathetic soul that he’d become, he was risking a Simone Breaux rage by calling her home in the middle of the night. Luckily Val picked up on the second ring.

  “Hello,” she said sleepily.

  “Hi.”

  “Rene”?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Four-thirty. What time do you have to get up?”

  “Five.”

  “See how thoughtful I am. Your very own wake-up call.”

  He heard soft laughter at the other end and a rustling noise. She was probably sitting up in bed.

  He leaned over to turn out the bedside lamp; somehow it seemed more intimate talking to her in the dark. “Are you going to come back, Val?”

  “You already asked me that.”

  Does the word pathetic ring a bell? “I wasn’t satisfied with your answer.”

  “I can’t make promises. There are so many extenuating circumstances that may affect my decision.”

  “You sound like a lawyer.”

  “That’s what I am.”

  “We have unfinished business, babe.” Like, two years and counting.

  She hesitated before saying, “I know. But sometimes it’s best to leave certain things unfinished.”

  “Bullshit! I want you to come back. If you want to, you can come back. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He decided that was a good enough concession for now. Time to pull in the heavy-duty ammunition.

  “What are you wearing?” Yeah, what does someone who’s been celibate for two years wear? A chastity belt?

  Soft laughter again. He loved her soft laughter.

  “Are we going to have phone sex?” she inquired innocently.

  God bless innocent women! “Was that an invitation?” It couldn’t possibly be.

  Silence.

  Holy shit! He’d only been kidding, but she must be interested. Otherwise she would have told him that he was a crude ass, or something similar. Whooee! I am better than I thought. Amazing! “Val?” he prodded for an answer.

  “I’ve never had phone sex before,” she said.

  “Neither have I,” he lied, “but I’m game if you are. Besides, we’ve already
had near-sex. How different could it be?” Game? Hah! More like chomping at the bit. Honey, I want to end that two-year vigil soooo bad.

  “I don’t know about this....”

  No, no, no. You are not going to back out now. You don’t toss a hungry dog a bone, then say, “Oops, give it back .” And I am definitely a hungry dog. “What are you wearing?”

  “A nightgown.”

  “Take it off, darlin’.”

  “Why?”

  Questions, questions, question! Why do women always have to question everything? ‘Take the damn thing off, Val.”

  There was a short silence, after which she said, “I did it.”

  Oh my God! Babe, you would not believe the images I have right now. Triple X-rated! “How does it feel?”

  “Wicked.”

  “Wicked is good.”

  She chuckled and said, “Now you. What are you wearing?”

  “Jockey shorts.”

  “Take them off.”

  “Say that again.”

  “Why?”

  Aaarrgh! Another question! “Because it turns me on, dammit. Stop asking why.”

  “Why are you getting irritated?”

  “I’m not getting irritated. I’m impatient.” Actually, I’m so excited.. . overexcited. Slow down, cowboy.

  “Rene’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take them off. Please.”

  He smiled to himself. After a moment or two, he said, “I did it.”

  “Liar. You did not.”

  Oops! “How do you know that?”

  “I’m a jury analyst. I study people... their appearance, their gestures, their voices. I could tell by the tone of your voice.”

  Man, oh, man! I better be careful. “I did it now,” he told her after shrugging out of his underwear.

  “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t know where or how to start.”

  Ido. “I’m touching your face,” he said, “running my fingertips over your lips. Remember how it felt when we kissed earlier?”

  “Remember? I’ll never forget. You were right. You are a good kisser.”

  Icannot believe Valerie “Ice” Breaux just told me I am a good kisser. He smiled. “I can remember your taste.”

  She laughed. “What? Diet Coke? Or breath mint?”