by Elle James
“Unless you like handling slinky dead fish and dissecting frogs, I don't think so.”
Randall looked up, his nose wrinkled. “That's an exciting occupation for a woman. What are you, some kind of frogtologist? Or are you dreaming up new recipes for a cookbook?”
“The cookbook. Definitely, the cookbook.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Throw the bastard out, Elaine. Craig wished he could do it for her. If he were in human form, he would.
The snake drifted over to her worktable and stared down at her microscope. “What's this, a microscope?”
“No, it's a frying pan.” Elaine marched over to stand between Randall and her equipment. “Yes, it's a microscope If you're through with your inspection, I have work to do.”
Yeah, buster, beat it. Craig hopped over to stand next to Elaine.
Randall leaned closer and touched a finger to her collarbone. “Why don't you and me go by Maggie's Café for a bite to eat?”
Elaine slapped his hand away. “I'm not hungry.”
“Oh, come on, you have to eat sometime.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How about for dinner tonight?”
Craig's blood boiled. If the man didn't get his filthy paws off the scientist, he'd...
He'd... what? Croak?
“No thanks,” Elaine replied, ducking around Randall to march over to the door. “Besides, I already have a date.”
Craig shot a glance toward Elaine. She had a date?
Randall frowned. “With who?”
Yeah, with who? Craig couldn't think of a single man good enough for Elaine in the entire parish, barring yours truly. He didn't like that she'd agreed to go out with someone else. The thought curled his insides. He didn't like the idea at all.
“Whom I go out with is none of your business.” She opened the door and motioned for him to go through.
Randall swaggered toward her, stopping short of the door. “I make everything that goes on in this town my business.”
Yeah, Randall had a knack for getting into everyone's business, all right. A couple years younger than Craig, Randall had been a pest growing up. He'd found pleasure in tagging along behind Larry, Mo and Craig. Whenever he had the chance, he got them in trouble. Like the time he'd sunk the fishing boat at the marina. Since Craig and Larry had been the last to use it, they'd taken the blame. Later, they'd caught him with the plug in his pocket.
“Mr. Pratt,” Elaine said.
“Call me Randall.”
“Mr. Pratt,” Elaine repeated with more emphasis. “Please leave.”
Craig and Dawg hopped and trotted to stand beside Elaine. The dog growled low in his chest. Craig found himself wishing the old voodoo queen had changed into a dog, instead of a defenseless frog. He could have sunk his canine cutlery into the jerk to speed him on his way.
“I don't take no for an answer. I'll be back.” Randall leaned forward and kissed Elaine's surprised lips.
She reached up and slapped him in the face. The smack of palm to cheek rang loud against the walls.
Woof! Dog stalked forward.
Randall pressed a hand to his cheek and backed toward the door. The shocked look on his face was almost comical. “You shouldn't have done that.”
Elaine stood taller, her lips pressed into a straight line. “No. You shouldn't have kissed me.”
“I'm not through with you, lady.” Randall's voice promised retribution.
But Elaine held firm. “Leave.”
Before Randall's heels cleared the door, Elaine slammed it shut.
She stared at the door as if it had committed the offense instead of the man who'd gone through it. “The nerve!”
She swung around, almost stepping on Craig, and paced across the room. With an angry yank, she pulled the glasses from her face and waved them in the air “I can't stand a pushy creep who thinks he owns the place.” She scrubbed her fingers over her lips. “And he kissed me! Yuck!”
Craig hopped out of the way of her next pass. 'Twin flags of pink flew high on her cheekbones. The moss green of her eyes deepened and sparked like a forest fire. Tendrils of dry hair drifted up from the wetter strands and danced around her face.
Damn she was hot when she was mad.
He'd risk making her mad just to see her reaction - exciting and sexy as hell. Where had she been hiding all that passion? If she could get this riled over a stolen kiss, imagine her passion in bed. Craig's little froggy heart couldn't take much of this. When the hell was dusk?
Just as quickly as she'd started pacing, she flopped onto the couch and leaned her elbows on her knees. The fire died from her eyes and she stared at the books on the table.
Dawg left Craig's side and trotted over to Elaine. He nosed the hands clasped in front of her. Her fingers parted and the dog stuck his nose between them.
Craig hopped toward the scientist, wondering what had happened for her to stop ranting so suddenly. Like
Dawg, he sensed her sadness even before a tear slid down her cheek to fall on the dog's nose.
“What's wrong with me? Am I really rigid?” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the dog's neck. “Can't I be kissed and not treat it as an assault?”
No, you were right. The guy deserved your slap. Craig wished he could take her in his arms and hug away her hurt expression.
Woof! Dawg pulled out of her clinch.
“See, even you don't think I'm loveable. Perhaps you're right. Who could love someone with frizzy hair, who looks like a schoolmarm and hides behind her microscope? Brian didn't.”
Who was Brian? Craig had a mind to pummel the jerk's face for making Elaine cry.
“How can you date someone for four months and never really see them?” She flopped onto her side and tucked a throw pillow in her arms. “It's no use. I'm afraid of water, I'm afraid of relationships. All I have is science. Which makes for a cold bedfellow.”
Woof!
“You said it. It's a rough life.” She rolled into a sitting] position and punched the cushion into the corner. “But I'm here for a reason and I might as well get started. I can't work on my love life later.”
Elaine pushed off the couch and strode to the refrigerator. She pulled a large lump of silver wrapped in plastic from the freezer and took it over to the table.
“At least frozen it doesn't smell quite as bad, huh Dawg?”
Dawg sniffed at the fish in her hands and nuzzled the: plastic.
“Sorry, fella. You don't get to eat the evidence yet. Let me take some samples from it first. Although the thought of eating this should turn your stomach. Oh.” She glanced toward Craig. “And you might want to let your frog friend outside before I start dissecting his cousin.”
Craig's empty frog belly clenched as he imagined a sharp scalpel cutting through the tender skin. She was right. He wasn't up to seeing a fellow frog sliced open for science. She found it necessary; he found it way too frightening.
He'd leave her to the specimen samples and find something else to do.
Like figure a way out of his predicament?
As time slipped away, he didn't feel any closer to resolving his difficulty. If he didn't move fast, the full moon would seal his fate and he might end up under Elaine's microscope, just another cell to analyze, or a heart muscle to slice a cross section from.
Could he make Elaine love him and subsequently get him out of this mess? Her mention of Brian - whoever indicated the relationship might be over. That made her a prime candidate, didn't it?
The image of the lone tear trickling down her cheek seared a path from his mind to his heart What kind of bastard was he to think he could make her fall in love with him, when he had no intention of ever returning her love? And why the hell did he have this overpowering urge to pummel Brian's face for making her cry?
He needed to find someone a little less vulnerable. Someone who wouldn't look at him with genuine tears in her eyes when he told her it was over. Was there such a woman?
Lisa. But Lisa couldn't l
ove anyone but herself and she knew about the spell.
No, he had to find someone to love him and it had to be real or he risked being a frog forever.
CHAPTER TEN
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“Uncle Joe!” Craig strode into the bait shop from the back room just after dusk. He'd made good his escape from Elaine's cottage when Dawg whined to get out. Transformation caught him on the back step of the shop again. This time, Ms. Reneau hadn't been anywhere in sight. Thank God! “Uncle Joe!”
“You don't have to yell, for Pete's sake. I ain't deaf, you know.” Uncle Joe squinted one eye and touched his hand to his head. “Did you get the number of the truck that hit me?”
Craig shook his head at his uncle's scruffy clothes and bed hair. “Try Mad Dog 20/20.”
“Oh, yeah.” Uncle Joe turned toward the commercial refrigerator and yanked out a bottle of water. “I need a couple dozen painkillers.”
“Prevention is much more effective than the cure. You should avoid the Raccoon Saloon on Saturday nights.”
Uncle Joe lifted a hand, Boy-Scout style. “I'm swearing off, I promise.”
Craig grinned. “I've heath that before.”
“Right now, even the thought of booze turns my stomach.”
“Good, keep it that way.” Craig walked to the window and stared out. His gaze gravitated to his uncle's rental house. He wondered when Elaine would arrive at the bait shop. “Heard anything from Littington?”
“Yup. Got a meetin' set up for tonight at nine at the lake View Restaurant in Morgan City”
“Good.” Although he would be glad to finish his business with Littington, Craig found he'd rather be with Elaine out on the swamp.
Uncle Joe ran a hand through his hair, making the long white tufts stand on end. “Bad news is, I got a call from your father.”
Craig shot a sharp glance at his uncle, familiar tension settling in his neck and shoulders. His father was already pushing to acquire this deal. Life was all about the business - no time to enjoy family and friends. Craig inhaled and held his breath. “Is he coming down here?”
The older Thibodeaux looked up, his eyes bloodshot. “God forbid, no.”
Whew! All he needed was his father's interference at this point to make the situation a complete nightmare. As if a voodoo hex, pollution and funny feelings about a scientist weren't enough. “I thought you said it was bad news.”
Joe scratched his chest. “Just hearing from your father gives me the hives. He can be such an ornery fool, acting like he's got a corncob shoved up his -”
“Yeah, well Craig interrupted his uncle's colorful language. With his back to the wall and one foot crossed over the other, Craig struck a casual pose, his gaze never leaving his uncle's face. ”I take it he's still trying to get you to clean up and work for the firm again."
“Never a call goes by without him pluggin' for me to come back.”
“Why don't you?”
Uncle Joe lifted his palms upward. “And give up all this?”
Craig looked around at the shop's interior. “What? A beat-up old bait shop and marina?”
"You may see it as nothing but a rundown bait shop.
But I look at it as my salvation.“ He winced and dug around under the counter until he came up with a bottle of ibuprofen. ”Ahhhhh."
“Why did you give up law?” Craig asked.
“Had my reasons.” Uncle Joe uncapped the bottle and shook four tablets into his hand.
"Name one..
“I don't want you gettin' no ideas about quittin' the firm. Your father would skin me alive. It's bad enough one of the family dropped out. Can't have another Thibodeaux desert the ship.”
“Come on, Uncle Joe. You can tell me anything. I'm not walking out on the firm. I'm aiming for partner within the next two years.”
Uncle Joe tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed a swig of bottled water before he replied. “Let's just say I had a change of heart.”
Craig's eyebrows rose. His curiosity wouldn't let his uncle alone. “It was a woman, wasn't it?”
“Now don't go puttin' words in my mouth.” Joe walked a few steps away. “I never said it was a woman.”
“It was a woman.” Craig smacked the wall next to his hip. “Exactly the reason why I haven't shackled myself to one. They're trouble.”
Uncle Joe stared into his nephew's eyes. “You'll sing a different tune when you find the right one, boy. And if you're anywhere near as smart as you profess, you'll fight for her, no matter what”
Craig stared back into intense blue eyes, very similar to his own. “Is that the problem? You didn't fight for her?” he asked softly.
The older man turned his back to him. “Go away, boy, I got work to do.”
“Okay, but we're not through talking.”
“If you know what's good for you, you'll let this sleepin' dog lie.” Uncle Joe grabbed a broom, and with short, sharp strokes, swept his way toward the front of the store.
“One other favor, Uncle Joe.”
“Ain't you had more than your share for the day?” Joe muttered.
“I need you to stall the scientist until I get back from my meeting with Littington.”
“No need. I could take her out myself, if I have to.”
“I thought you didn't do night tours?”
Uncle Joe shrugged, his face reddening. “I just told her that 'cause I had a card game with the boys that night I'll take her.”
“No.” A jolt of unexpected panic seized Craig. He'd told Elaine Uncle Joe could guide her, but the thought of her and the older man out on the water without his protection chilled him. No telling what would happen if whoever was dumping the toxins found them snooping around. “I want to take her out. Frankly, I'm concerned about the entire situation.”
“Afraid she'll take more than her limit of frogs?” Uncle Joe snorted. “I believe there's enough frogs in that swamp to supply a whole slew of universities.” He scratched his chin. “Although, more and more of 'em seem to be going belly up lately. Bernie came by again, yesterday with news of more dead fish around that same lagoon.”
“It's not so much the frog supply I'm worried about. It's who else is out there on the swamps at night.”
“You're getting punchy, boy.” A frown pulled his brows low. Joe crossed his arms over the tip of his broom. "People fish at all hours on the swamps. No crime in that.
Done it myself for the past thirty years."
“Maybe so.” Craig turned and stared out at the night, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. “Times are changing, and not everyone out there has fish on his mind.”
Uncle Joe stood his broom next to Craig. “There something you're not telling me?”
“Let's just say I'm looking into it Leave the scientist to me.” He turned back toward his uncle. “Stall her, tell her I'll be late, but don't take her out there without me.”
A smile curled at the edges of the older man's lips. “Sounds like you got a hankerin' for the gal.”
Craig stopped in mid stride, turned and looked out the window again. “Call it whatever you like, but wait for me to get back,” he responded in low, clipped words.
“Okay, okay, you don't have to bite my head off.”
Craig glanced at his watch. “Damn. I better get moving if I plan to meet with Littington.”
“Yeah, that's another thing.”
“What?” Craig asked without turning away from the window.
“Your father asked about the Littington deal.”
Craig shot a glance at Uncle Joe. “What did you tell him?”
The old man shrugged. “You're workin' it.”
“Good.” With a nod, Craig looked out at the swamp one last time, then headed for the door. “All I need is for him to race down here and find out what a mess I'm in.”
“Spare me. I'd make a deal with the devil himself to keep your father from comin' down.”
“Believe me, I don't want to be in your skin. Human or amphibian.”
Just as Elaine gathered her gear for another night on the swamp, the phone rang. Having only left the number with the dean's secretary, she wondered what was wrong at the university. Her heart skipped a beat. Why else would the university call? “Hello.”
“Elaine?” A familiar male voice crackled over the line.
“Brian?” Elaine's apprehension diminished, replaced quickly by annoyance. “Are you on a cell phone? I can barely hear you?”
“Yeah, it's me,” he answered cheerfully, as if their last words had been nothing out of the ordinary.
“How did you get this number?” she asked, her words abrupt.
“The dean's secretary gave it to me. I told her it was a family emergency”
“So you lied to Annette.”
“I consider you family. Pretty romantic, huh? I had to talk to you. I don't like the way we ended our last conversation. I'm sorry. I miss you and want you to come back.”
Elaine held the phone away from her ear and rolled her eyes. When she placed it back against her head, she spoke in slow, deliberate syllables. “Brian, we not only ended the conversation that day, we ended our relationship.”
“I wanted you to know I was wrong about Cynthia and she means nothing to me and -”
“She dumped you.”
“Actually, she didn't tell me she was married.”
Elaine emitted an unladylike snort. “So you called second stringer Elaine to fill in while you find another secretary to bounce?” Wow, she had been naive.
“No, that's not it at all.” He sighed. “I guess I was pretty harsh and I understand if you're still mad, but I did call to apologize.”
“No need to apologize.” Elaine almost felt sorry for the man. He really did sound sincere. Although she questioned what she'd ever seen in him in the first place. “I think you did me a favor.”
“Really? How?”
“You opened my eyes to my appalling lack of a life outside my work.”
