by Maria Luis
Shaelyn sent him a wicked smile. “Oh, he’s still got his Xbox.” Pointing at Anna, she prompted, “Tell them what you did.”
Anna grinned. “I brought him to his grandmother’s house.”
Each one of them visibly winced.
Jade lifted her hand. “I just want to say that the one time I met your mom, I thanked God that He gave me Lucia Margarita Harper for at least three days straight.”
“It’s true,” Danvers put in. “I’ve never seen her Skype with her mom so many days in a row. It was impressive, even if Señora Harper did tell me for the hundredth time that she wished I was Cuban.”
Jade patted his cheek. “She’s got no room to talk. My dad isn’t Cuban.”
“Yeah, well, pretty sure your dad is just thankful I’m not one of Rita’s types.”
Having heard the stories of Jade’s older sister, even Anna had to giggle at that. Whether she was bringing home millionaire doctors or sleeping with her pool boy, Rita Harper’s love life was never boring.
Jade switched her attention over to Anna. “Julian’s okay, though? Not feeling any lasting effects of Grandma Dorothy?”
Dorothy Bryce wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone, including Julian, made her out to be. In fact, there was nothing awful about Anna’s mother, except for the fact that she and Anna’s dad, Joe, traveled extensively. It seemed that as soon as Julian had hit the fifth grade, they’d decided Anna could handle everything.
Her parents had sold their home, bought a condo in the French Quarter, and taken off to parts of the world that Anna only knew about from watching the Travel Channel. They returned to New Orleans every so often, about two times a year, and when they did, Dorothy Bryce flipped on the grandma switch.
Julian went from having almost no contact with his grandparents all year to having the woman dote on him nonstop for weeks. It’d be a lot for any teenager to handle, which was why the day after the Date Fiasco, she’d informed Jules she had a surprise for him.
The surprise being Dorothy Bryce, who was all too happy to sit Julian down at the kitchen table and talk his ear off for four hours straight.
Payback was such a lovely thing.
“He’s good,” Anna said in answer to Jade’s question. “And if he’s not, he’ll have more time with Grandma Dorothy tomorrow when I go on another date.”
“Ooo, savage,” Shaelyn murmured, which made Brady and Danvers trade looks of pain. In typical Shae fashion, she ignored the men and scooted close to Anna on the metal bleacher. “So, this date? Who is he?”
“Okay,” Brady announced, “I think that’s our cue to take a walk, Danvers.”
Danvers hauled his big body off the bench. “Let’s do this. I’m feeling the need for a corn dog.”
As the two men headed off to the concession stands, their girlfriends didn’t even bother to hide their excitement.
“So?” Shae poked Anna in the leg. “Give us a name, girl.”
“Aaron.”
“Last name?” Jade pressed. “I can have Nathan look him up. Make sure there aren’t any dead bodies hiding in his closet.”
Anna steeled her body against a flinch. The other woman had no idea how close she’d come to hitting on the truth about Anna’s previous boyfriend. Not about Aaron, but about . . .
She took a deep breath, her gaze finding Jules on the field. All of that was in the past. There was no point drudging up the painful memory right now.
“Anna?”
Her gaze swung to her cousin, who for once was quiet and laying off the sass. They exchanged a look of understanding, and Anna gave a quick nod. Everything was just fine.
She forced a smile for her friends. “I think we can leave the police talk out of this. Let’s just hope tomorrow’s date goes better than the last one.”
“Where’d you meet him?” Jade asked. “At the boutique?”
Shaelyn snorted. “If she met him there, I’d say there’s definite cause to be nervous. The only guys who come into La Parisienne are either married, gay or transitioning.”
“Like, they’re engaged?”
Poor girl, Anna thought. She still hadn’t lived in New Orleans long enough to recognize all of its ins and outs, literally. “No, Shae’s talking about men who are transitioning to become a woman.”
“Oh. Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Jade looked up at Anna. “So, obviously you didn’t meet him at the boutique.”
She bit her lip. While Anna wanted to confess to meeting Luke, something held her back. She certainly didn’t understand what made her want to keep their unconventional relationship to herself. Plus, it was only a matter of time before Luke discovered her identity.
He was Brady’s best friend, after all.
You want him to figure it out on his own.
She hadn’t recognized him, not right off the bat. Growing up, she and Shaelyn hadn’t been close at all. Best friends with Brady or not, it wasn’t Luke’s friendship with Shae’s boyfriend that had sparked Anna’s memory but rather high school. Even though she’d been a grade above him, Anna had been a cheerleader—it went without saying that she’d passed the district’s hottest tight-end at house parties or in the hallways of De La Salle.
And he’d changed. Age had made him harder, broader . . . surlier, if she were being honest.
Had he recognized her?
In a small city like New Orleans, that anonymity wouldn’t last long. She might as well enjoy it while she could.
“It’s a blind date,” she told her friends. “We were set up by a mutual friend.”
“Well, hopefully this mutual friend is someone you can trust not to screw you over,” Shae said with a side-eye glance.
Anna hoped so too.
“If it doesn’t work out, there’s someone at my work you might find interesting,” Jade said, pulling her long black hair into a ponytail. “He’s nice. Cute in that nerdy kind of way.”
Anna perked up. “I like nerdy.”
Nerdy was much better than lusting after Luke O’Connor, a man who wasn’t interested.
Lifting a disbelieving brow, Shaelyn said, “Girl, your celebrity crush is Joe Manganiello.”
“I can have multiple types. Joe Manganiello is the let-me-do-naughty-things-to-you type of guy.”
“And the cute, nerdy guy is . . .?”
Anna shifted on the bleacher uncomfortably. “The marrying kind?”
“I’m dating a Joe,” Jade piped up. “Nathan is very . . . attractive. But he’s also a bit of a nerd.”
“That’s because your boyfriend is a unicorn among men,” Anna pointed out kindly. “His kind doesn’t exist out in the wild.”
“You know,” Shaelyn murmured, “I used to say the same thing about you.”
Anna lifted a brow. “You thought I was a unicorn among men?”
“Among women,” her cousin retorted. “That’s your problem. Guys are interested, but they’re too afraid to approach you.”
Luke wasn’t afraid to approach me.
The unbidden thought crossed her mind before she had the chance to stop it. There was also the minute fact that while he’d approached her, he hadn’t hit on her.
Clearly, he wasn’t interested.
Unfortunately.
Anna turned to Jade, determination straightening her shoulders. “Set me up with this cute, nerdy guy. Maybe this weekend, if he’s not too busy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The crowd burst into applause, and Anna jumped to her feet just in time to see Julian sprint into the end zone with the football. She shouted his name, bouncing on her feet like the crazy football mom that she was.
And, just like he always did, his blue gaze found her in the stands and he lifted his hand to give her a thumbs-up.
Touchdown.
Chapter Seven
Blondie was early.
Luke had positioned himself in the same booth at Tuck’s that they’d shared the previous week. He’d had six days to rack
his brain on how she might know him, less than six days to find her a date, and approximately 144 hours to wait until he could see her again.
From his vantage point, he had a clear view of her entering the bar.
His breath didn’t catch, and he absolutely did not feel any sort of that romantic shit bubbling up inside him.
But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been full of anticipation on the cab ride in tonight.
It was in his competitive nature to enjoy watching a rival go down. In this case, Blondie’s loss was also her gain. Luke found her the guy of her dreams, simultaneously proving that he had a better hand on matchmaking, and then . . . what?
Not for the first time did he stop to ponder how this dating challenge benefited him. It didn’t. Except, of course, if he factored in the whole human interaction thing.
He watched her close in on the bar, her hands already dipping into her purse as she smiled at the male bartender.
Luke’s gut clenched.
Before he even realized what he was about, he had his cane clutched tight as he moved to her side. He caught her just as she was about to pass over her credit card.
“I’ve got it,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. He passed a twenty over to the bartender, just as she whirled around to face him.
“What are you doing here?” She sounded both furious and pleased, and it pleased him to know that he had the ability to throw her off balance. She checked over her shoulder, blue eyes scanning the bar for any newcomers. “My date is going to be here any minute.”
Luke thanked the bartender when he returned with the change, and left the tip on the bar. He handed Blondie her pink, hoity-toity cocktail that looked like it shrank ball sacs for a living.
She thanked him, probably more out of habit than actual gratitude. Fitting the straw between her red-painted lips, she sipped her cocktail and then murmured, “Are you planning to watch?”
The question threw him into a sudden visual loop of her lean legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her. Luke shoved it away, dragged the cocktail out of her hand, and lifted the rim to his mouth. Looked like he was about to test the sac-shrinking theory.
Her red lips fell open at his audacity, blue eyes flashing, before she smiled demurely. “I hope you choke on it.”
Laughter climbed his throat. “So much for thinking you’re concerned about my welfare,” he said, offering the cocktail back to her.
She cradled the glass against her collarbone. “At what point did you ever think I was concerned about your welfare?” Lifting a finger to his chin, she tapped twice, leaving behind traces of moisture from the glass. “You’re delusional.”
Wouldn’t surprise him. Over a decade in the army could do that to a person.
“I thought we could go over a few things before your date arrives,” he said, opting for the truth. “Make sure you start off on the right foot.”
Her gaze dropped to his tennis shoes. “I’m assuming you’ve got two left feet, then.”
“Because of the cane?”
Blue eyes once again found his face. “Because you seem incapable of speaking without insulting somebody first.”
“It’s a special talent of mine.”
Luke felt his lips twist into a smile. God, she thought she was so funny. He could see it in the way she sipped her cocktail to hide her grin. In the way she dropped her eyes to his chest, trying to hide the warmth she naturally exuded.
“Are you really staying for the date?”
He looked down at the top of her head. Tonight, she’d pulled her blonde hair up into one of those perfect little hair buns that his sister Amy loved so much. The smoky look had been traded out for a more natural glow, aside from her red-painted lips that snared his gaze way too much for his liking.
Luke nodded toward their booth, ignoring the stirring in his body. “Gotta make sure things go as planned.”
Fiddling with her straw, she said, “What, are you going to give me pointers or something?”
“Sure.”
Her gaze jumped to his. “I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t,” Luke told her, restraining a grin. “Want to know my first pointer?”
“No, I’m good.”
He pointed to her tight up-do. “Guys think only one thing when they see a woman with her hair so in control.”
“Are they wishing that they could rock the hair bun, too?”
“No. They’re hoping they’ll get the chance to set that hair loose—”
“And steal it for themselves? Awkward.”
She was taunting him, and from the wicked glint in her gaze she was enjoying it too. Ignoring the ever-present twinge in his hip, Luke shifted his weight so he could whisper in her ear, “You ever hear that you’re a ball crusher?”
“I think the word you’re looking for is, ‘heartbreaker.’”
If her hair had been down framing her face, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she flicked it over her shoulders. Even without the hair toss, the saucy smile she sent him was a gift that kept on giving. It started with a quick upturn of her mouth and ended with a soft, feminine laugh.
Luke slid the cane’s handle from his right hand to his left, distributing his weight evenly. He had the strangest urge to throw the cane clear across the room, drop his hands on either side of her hips, and show her that if she meant to tease him, she didn’t have to worry about his heart breaking.
Instead he caught sight of his old buddy entering the bar, looking exactly the same as he had at eighteen. Well, minus the added weight on his frame, but otherwise still the same Aaron Capton from thirteen years earlier.
Show time.
“Your date’s arrived,” Luke said, switching his cane back to his regular hand. He glanced down at her, waiting for any sort of reaction. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“If I told you no, what would you say?”
“That some major ball crushing is about to go down—you just tell me which guy is giving you trouble and I’ll take care of it.”
He could tell it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but at the end of the day . . . he was in this for the competition, to ease the cloying boredom that he’d yet to shake since returning to New Orleans. Although he could admit, at least to himself, that Blondie was the escape he hadn’t realized he’d needed.
“All right,” she said, rolling her eyes as her fingers reached up to smooth down any stray hairs, “go take a seat and leave this up to me.”
Luke shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips.
If there was one thing he already knew about her, it was that she could hold her own with the best of them when it came to trash talk.
And Luke considered himself to be one of the very best.
When it came to Aaron Capton, Luke had done . . . surprisingly well.
Surprising, because Anna wouldn’t have been shocked to find herself at an empty table with only her cocktail for company.
But Aaron Capton exceeded her expectations. Dark brown hair was swept back from a perfectly masculine face, and while his frame wasn’t nearly as imposing as Luke’s, Aaron’s body was definitely more approachable. One glance and Anna could still think clearly, which she deemed a plus.
From what she’d gathered, he worked construction by day and played guitar in a local band by night.
Never one for the whole rock-star fantasy, even Anna could admit that Aaron’s smooth baritone would make for some excellent crooner music.
“So, you run a boutique downtown?” he asked, brown eyes watching her with interest from behind square lenses. “What type of store is it?”
Anna didn’t bother to hide her enthusiasm. Given the opportunity, she could talk business all day. Besides Julian, La Parisienne was her favorite topic. “A lingerie boutique. We were lucky that it was recently rated the hottest place to shop in the American Southeast.”
His eyes widened behind his frames. “Is that
the one on Chartres?”
Familiar pride bubbled. Anna had invested almost thirteen years into La Parisienne, starting as an employee after dropping out of Tulane University when she’d been knocked up by Julian’s father. By the time she’d hit twenty-six, she had signed the deed to the business and made it completely hers.
She took a sip of her cocktail, immediately slamming the door on the intruding memory of Luke drinking from her glass.
She didn’t need to be thinking about that—him—especially when she was on a date with a perfectly nice man. The fact that she could feel Luke’s green eyes on her steeled her spine and set her teeth on edge.
Anna was ready to date, and from all appearances so was Mr. Capton.
To Aaron she smiled and murmured, “That’s the one. Originally, we’d hired distributors to design our apparel, but since my cousin came on board last year, we’ve truly switched the business around. She’s got a knack for creating pieces that even entice celebrities to stop by when they’re in town.”
“Like who?”
Anna could barely remember them all. The first time an A-lister had opened the frosted front door and stepped inside had sent her brain whirling. La Parisienne was a local favorite, but to hit the national circuit? She’d never even conceived the possibility.
“Well,” she said, “just recently we had the cast from American Horror Story. They contacted us to provide some of our inventory for their latest season. And since that’s happened, we’ve had other costume designers approach us for the same sort of deal. It’s been . . . amazing, actually.”
Something she’d never forget.
Just like this moment, too. Maybe it was because this was the first time she’d truly allowed herself to relax on a date, but in the thirty minutes or so since she and Aaron had met, she felt comfortable. At ease.
The hopeless romantic in her already foresaw a second date in the near future, and she was just about to give Luke O’Connor the win when Aaron dropped his elbows to the table, beer bottle clasped loosely in his hands, and asked, “Are you wearing any of that fancy lingerie right now?”
