The NOLA Heart Novels (Complete Series)

by Maria Luis

  “He was learning the ropes, still.” They crossed busy North Rampart Street, cutting around tourists waiting for the red streetcar, and passed beneath the large white arch into Louis Armstrong Park. At the sight of grass, Sassy grumbled happily and made a straight shot for it, tugging Julian along with him. While his tail whipped back and forth happily, the dog’s snout got up close and personal with a flower bush.

  “Luke, can I ask you a question?”

  Resisting the urge to run, Luke forced his shoulders to relax. He fixed his attention on Sassy licking the underside of a leaf—in one pass, the leaf disappeared within the dog’s large chompers. “Yeah, sure. Fire away.”

  Hopefully he wouldn’t come to regret it.

  Julian turned to face him fully. “So, my mom has started this whole dating thing. Which I’m not mad about—Brady always says we all need love in the world. And, honestly, it’s nice to sometimes have the house to myself so I can play video games.”

  Luke’s gut told him he would not like where this was going. He held himself still. “I can see how you wouldn’t mind being alone for a bit.”

  “I love my mom, but yeah, it’s nice. I can leave my socks on the floor or sneak snacks up to my room to eat, that sort of thing. She ever tell you how much of a dictator she is at home? You think she’s all sweet-looking and then bam, she won’t let you up from the table until you finish all your cabbage. She’s savage, Luke, I’m telling you.”

  He didn’t think she sounded savage at all. A fine warrior, though; he could see that easily enough. “I can tell you love her,” Luke answered as he patted Sassy on the rump to leave a flower bush alone.

  “Obviously I love her.” Julian rolled his eyes. “See, thing is, with this whole dating thing, I think she’s going about it all wrong.”

  Luke couldn’t help but chuckle at his fierceness. “Do you have a lot of dating experience to back up that claim?”

  “Well, no.” Blue eyes zeroed in on Luke’s face. “But everyone knows you should date people you know. They do it on Friends.”

  “You watch Friends?”

  “Re-runs,” Julian said. “Other than trashy reality TV, Mom’s favorite is Friends. But, I mean, look at Monica and Chandler or Rachel and Ross—they all knew each other!”

  Luke almost felt bad letting the kid down. “It’s TV. Not that I’m looking to kill dreams here, but you do realize that they have people who write those scripts, right? Real life doesn’t work that way.”

  “Brady and Shaelyn were friends first.”

  “Brady and Shaelyn dated years ago, broke up, still hated each other twelve years later and reunited. The two of them are a Hallmark-reject postcard.”

  “Mom watches the Hallmark Channel, too, when she doesn’t think I’m paying any attention.”

  Somehow, Luke wasn’t even surprised. “So, what’s your plan? Dig through your mom’s phone? Get her on Hallmark? The opportunities are endless.”

  Sensing Luke’s playful sarcasm, Julian granted him with a wide smile. Then, he announced, “I have the perfect guy for Mom. She already knows him.”

  At that moment, Luke noticed two things:

  A seagull overhead swooped down and attacked a poor woman who’d made the mistake of eating French-fries outdoors, and,

  His heart kicked up its pace, turning from a rhythmic ba-dum ba-dum to a much more erratic ba-dumba-dumba-dumba-dum.

  It was stupid and pathetic, and still he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d interpreted Julian’s words correctly. If he had . . . Hell, had the kid just given Luke his seal of approval to date his mother? And if he had, what did Luke do with that information?

  He’d already sent that ship sailing. Not that there ever could be a ship in the dock whatsoever. Singledom was Luke’s thing and would no doubt somehow be etched onto his family’s ancestral tomb in St. Louis Cemetery No. 3 up in Mid-City. He could almost see it now:

  Man turns down woman’s offer for sex for unexplained reasons. Later greatly regrets the decision and dies a lonely, old man.

  Not that Luke was lonely or old. He shouldn’t be feeling this . . . whatever it was in his chest. Warmth. Anticipation. He watched his dog clamp his teeth down on a thin stick and victoriously thrash it around in the air. Luke didn’t feel victorious; he felt, if anything, a bit sick.

  “Thanks, kid,” he forced out upon realizing that Julian was watching him strangely, “but I think your mom and I probably aren’t the best match. I won’t even tell her you thought of the two of us like—”

  “You and Mom?” Julian laughed loudly, a bit too loudly for Luke’s ego. “No way. I mean, you’re cool and all, Luke, and Sassy’s awesome. But you and my mom? No way. No way.”

  The warmth in his chest died as quickly as the Saints’ hopes for the Super Bowl championship every year. “You weren’t talking about . . .”

  “No!” Red crested over the kid’s cheeks and he ducked his face. “Sorry, what I meant to say is that you and Mom are so totally different. She won’t even come inside whenever she drops me off to walk Sassy. I’m tryin’ to plan a date here, not a murder.”

  Ouch. The kid had claws, though he had no idea he was currently sharpening them on Luke’s hide. Unsure if he even wanted the answer, he heard himself ask, “You have someone else in mind?”

  “Our neighbor.” The words tumbled out of Julian’s mouth as though he’d been thinking over them hard all day. “My friend’s dad . . . He’s perfect for her, Luke.”

  He didn’t want to know. He really didn’t want to—fuck it. “How perfect?”

  “One of our friends—she’s a girl—came over last night and said that Mr. Ajax is hot guy calendar worthy—”

  How fucking lovely, Luke thought with a snort.

  “—And I don’t know anything about that, but that’s got to be a good thing. Like Playboy for girls.”

  “It’s called Playgirl.”

  Julian’s brows arched high. “It exists? Huh. I totally thought Marcie was just making it up.”

  “Don’t tell your mom I told you that,” Luke said, pointing a stern finger that was feeling less stern every moment. “So, this Mr. Ajax guy? He’s good-looking?”

  “The women in the neighborhood all come over when me and Toby—that’s Mr. Ajax’s son—are playing video games. They bring him cookies and cake and all sorts of stuff.”

  With each passing second, Mr. Ajax was beginning to sound more and more like a hotshot prick. “What is he, a doctor?” He said it flippantly, only somewhat surprised when Julian countered, “Nah, he’s a veterinarian.”

  Because which woman could resist a vet who looked good enough to be July on a twelve-month spread with a goddamn puppy licking his face?

  “Have you got a vet for Sass yet? You should bring him to Mr. Ajax. Scope him out and tell me if you think he’s good enough for my mom.”

  Over his dead body. “I’ll have to pass, unfortunately. If they aren’t old and gray and don’t have at least forty years of experience, they aren’t good enough for Sass.”

  At the sound of his name, the Dane glanced up, and Luke could have sworn that one look said something along the lines of, “Aw, shucks, Dad. You shouldn’t have.”

  This one isn’t for you, boy.

  Sassy’s tail shot up in the air like a middle finger.

  Appropriate.

  “Crap.” Julian thrust his hand through his white-blond hair. “All right, new plan. When my mom gets back from that meeting with those Hollywood people tonight, I’m going to tell her Mr. Ajax invited us over for dinner. She’s too polite to say no.”

  Damn it, but he wanted to know how her meeting had gone. Don’t show your ace. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, dragging his palm over his unshaven jaw. “Did this Ajax guy invite y’all over?”

  “No. He will, though. He’s been dying to ask my mom out for months now, ever since he moved in. Mr. Ajax is really cool.”

  “You said.”

  “You sure you won’t help me out with this? I’ll
give you part of the credit. Maybe if you help me score her a date, she’ll like you.”

  Luke had a sneaking suspicion that he’d killed whatever chance he’d had of Anna liking him the moment he’d ended their hot kiss with a rejection. “Doubtful,” he said, whistling for Sassy to stop scraping the flowerbed with his claws. A smaller dog wouldn’t cause that much damage; by the time Sassy finished, the soil would look like a monster truck had rolled through it. “If you think your mom will like Ajax, I don’t think you’ll have a problem getting her to dinner.”

  “Maybe I should offer to cook dinner for us and then burn it.” Julian reached out a hand to scratch Sassy under the chin. “Then we’ll have to go next door for dinner.”

  “Or,” Luke stressed as visions of a flaming house flashed before his eyes, “you could tell her that y’all were invited to the neighbor’s house. Simple, efficient.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe Toby can stage—”

  “Jules.”

  The teenager sighed. “Okay, okay. Ask her over for dinner. Attend dinner. Throw parents together. Man, this option is way more boring.”

  Anna dating someone that wasn’t Luke could never be classified as boring—wrong, definitely. Wait, no. No. She wasn’t going to date Luke. Hell, he wasn’t even interested in more than sex. Relationships weren’t his thing. They’d never been, and one beautiful blonde wasn’t going to change anything.

  Boring was good. Her going to dinner with the a-hole vet guy was good.

  He clapped a hand on Julian’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Adults like boring, Jules. If things aren’t more boring than watching paint peel, then someone’s not doing a good enough job.”

  “Sounds shitty.”

  “Language,” he pointed out, releasing his hold on Julian’s shoulder. “Women love flowers, Jules. If Mr. Ajax gets her some, then I’d imagine she’s one step closer to agreeing to a date.”

  “What type of flowers?”

  Luke pretended to think on the question. Tilting his head to the side, he said, “Roses. Women like roses.”

  Except for Anna Bryce. She didn’t want boring, and roses were the stereotypical date flower. If Luke were to ever give her a bouquet—and not that he ever would—but he’d be sure to exclude roses from the mix. She needed something vivacious like her personality, something bright and cheerful and yet strong and independent.

  She needed a type of flower that Luke wasn’t sure even existed in the real world. But she certainly didn’t need a rose.

  19

  Anna was just about to pull off her work clothes—and her bra, most definitely her bra—when her bedroom door yanked open. She caught sight of the bouquet of roses first, thrust up in the air like a sacrifice.

  Then, the bouquet shifted to the side and Julian’s youthful face emerged. Not that she’d had any doubt about who had entered her bedroom unannounced. Since the age of five, Jules had never followed her closed-door policy, though lately he’d taken to resenting when she returned the favor.

  “I found these downstairs when I got home,” he proclaimed, holding the flowers out to her. “They were on the little table on the porch.”

  Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “Were they now?”

  “Yup.” Julian lifted the blooms up for a quick sniff. “Pretty, aren’t they? Wonder who they’re from.”

  “I have a good idea.”

  “You do?” There was no hiding the delighted expression on his face.

  “I do.” She took the bouquet and sniffed the flowers herself. She loved the scent of roses, though she was more of an orchid girl herself. There was just something about both the fragility and strength in orchids that spoke to her. She placed the flowers on her dresser, and then faced her son. “You left the scissors on the counter.”

  His cheeks turned red, and he reached back to tug on his earlobe in that familiar way of his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told her, lying through his teeth, “I’ve got a feeling these are from a secret admirer.”

  “Mother’s Day is months away, Jules. Valentine’s Day, too, for that matter.”

  “Can’t a person show their interest in November? Seems months-ist to me.”

  “Sure they can.” But as Anna had wrapped up a phone meeting with Jas and Thick of the Woods, she’d witnessed her mischievous son sneaking into the kitchen, stealing the scissors, and then banging a quick exit back out the front door. She’d watched with curiosity from the dining room as he’d snipped at her rose bushes and tied an elastic band around the stems. With a wry smile she added, “Secret admirers just don’t come around all that often.”

  “It’s Thanksgiving this week. Maybe he’s feeling the holiday spirit.”

  Anna pretended to give it some thought. “My very own Thanksgiving secret admirer. I wonder if he’ll reveal his identity over turkey or the sweet potatoes.”

  With a look of dejection, Julian’s shoulders fell. “You know it was me, don’t you?”

  “If it hadn’t been for the scissors evidence”—Anna shrugged—“it’s possible you could have fooled me.”

  “Really?”

  He sounded so hopeful and she hated to be the one to let him down, but . . . “Probably not. I watched you snip the stems from the dining room. Wasn’t that goal number one in hanging out with Brady? Learn to be a secret human ninja with silent footsteps?”

  “That was last year’s goal. But no, not exactly.”

  Motioning for him to move ahead of her, Anna grasped the bouquet and they took the stairs down to the first floor. She hid a smile when Julian slumped into a kitchen chair and eyed the scissors on the counter as though they were at fault.

  “So, who are we pretending the flowers are from?” she prompted as she filled a vase with cool water and slipped the snipped stems into the glass. “Don’t break my heart and tell me someone unrealistic.”

  “Like Luke?”

  Anna's fingers froze, the moment dragging out endlessly as she steeled her thoughts from wandering to Luke O’Connor. She turned off the faucet and set the vase on the countertop with a sharp tsink! of glass meeting granite. “Luke would never give me flowers,” she finally said.

  “He was the one to suggest roses.”

  Heart thumping erratically, Anna whirled around to look at Julian. Do not get excited. Do not get excited. “Luke’s my secret admirer?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She gestured to the flowers. “You said that the roses were Luke’s idea.”

  Her son’s brow furrowed. “I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?”

  “Messing,” she corrected, then tacked on, “and how about you start from the beginning?”

  For the next few minutes, Anna stood with her butt against the counter as she listened to her son’s plan to see her married off to their next-door neighbor. It hurt, just a little, that Luke hadn’t done much to dissuade Julian’s mission. Maybe he thought that by enlisting Jules, his job as playing matchmaker was over.

  Not that it wasn’t already over. Anna couldn’t imagine letting Luke fix her up on another date after she’d already played tonsil hockey with him. There was awkward and then there was awkward, and continuing their matchmaking challenge was definitely an awkward fit under the latter category. And pathetic—she couldn’t forget about that either.

  “Did it occur to you that I might not be interested in Mr. Ajax?” she asked, moving to the fridge and removing leftover food from the night before. Pasta and alfredo sauce. Not as good as her gumbo, but she and Jules would have to make do.

  “You haven’t given him a chance, Ma.”

  Sliding him a side-eye glance, she muttered, “You’re starting to sound like your grandmother.”

  His mouth fell open. “Take that back.”

  “Nope. Your grandma has been trying to set me up for years. One time, when you were maybe three or four, she set me up with the mailman.”

  That earned her a heart
y laugh. “No way, really? What did she do, take the mail and throw you out of the house in exchange?”

  Not quite, but still close enough. “Turns out he was married.”

  Jules gave a dramatic gasp, probably for the benefit of the story. “No,” he mock-whispered, throwing a hand over his heart. “Grandma Dorothy would never do anything so embarrassing.”

  “She wouldn’t? Remember that time when you admitted you liked that girl in your class and she—”

  “Okay, okay!” The hand on his heart went up in the air. “You’re right. She’s the queen of embarrassment. But the whole marriage thing seems more in line with Aunt Elaine. Like what Aunt Elaine did with Shae last year, remember that?”

  As if Anna could ever forget the marriage plot trick Shaelyn’s grandmother had pulled last year. In the end, Shae had ended up with the perfect man for her.

  Anna peeled back the tin foil from the pan, staring down at the cold pasta as a terrible thought hit her. Maybe Julian was so keen to have her dating because he felt like something was missing from his life, namely a father.

  Her heart sank and unwanted tears dampened her eyes. Nothing a quick swipe of her sweatshirt sleeve couldn’t hide.

  Anna had worked so damn hard over the years to be both a mother and a father to her son. She’d attended football games, played endless hours of video games until her motion sickness landed her at the foot of the toilet. She’d played with Thomas the Tank Engine toys, over the years building Lego forts and blanket forts and chair forts.

  She may not have been a father, but she’d been Julian’s only parent, and the fear that he’d felt something in his life was missing had pushed Anna to always try harder to be the best parent she possibly could be.

  But apparently . . . she swallowed over the lump in her throat as she yanked out a pot from the cupboards and stuck it on the stove. With sharp movements, she scooped pasta into the pot and set the stove eye on medium.

  Anna wasn’t a good cook. It was probably safe to say that she was an awful cook, and it was a quick reminder that over the years she’d become more adept at the “father” roles than the traditional mother ones.