Gotta Get Next To You

by Emery, Lynn

  “Hi, Andrea. Glad to see you home,” Charles said as he joined them with his wife, Janice, a good-natured, plump woman expecting their third child. “I’ve got a few ideas for the clinic. I’ll be talking to you.”

  “All suggestions are welcome,” Andrea replied. She ignored Gran huffing with indignation beside her.

  “Big head, that’s his problem. Just like his momma,” Gran muttered when they left to find their seats.

  “Hush. Let’s sit down,” Andrea whispered.

  Having been so long in Chicago, she’d forgotten about the forced intimacy of small-town life. What others thought of you was very important. Alienating your neighbors would seriously limit your social life and even hurt a business. Not to mention how hard it was when most of them were relatives. So for years there might never be an open battle, just a simmering feud. Andrea felt a renewed dread when she glanced around.

  “Hello again, Ms. Noble.” A deep voice broke through her thoughts.

  Andrea looked up. The dark eyes and dimple were familiar. His smile made her feel special, like she was the only woman he saw in the crowd. But it was his eyes that drew her in most of all. She was momentarily lost in the smoky depths that invited her into a sensuous other world. Andrea’s practical, cynical side fought hard to pull her from the edge.

  Andrea’s gaze took in all of him. He was wearing an olive green and navy blue striped polo shirt open at the collar. His pants were navy also. A leather belt the color of dark wine coordinated with his loafers. The cologne he wore was a spicy, warm scent. He seemed oblivious to the stir he was causing. In fact, women all around the auditorium were staring at him in avid curiosity.

  Gran glanced from Andrea to the man. “Guess I better introduce myself, since my granddaughter’s been struck dumb. I’m Mavis Ricard.”

  Embarrassed and suddenly irritated, Andrea snapped out of her stupor. Exactly what she needed tonight, to make a fool of herself, especially in front of this man. His knowing smile grated even more.

  “I would, Gran, except I can’t quite recall his name,” Andrea said, lifting her nose and glancing away.

  “Jamal Turner. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ricard.” He dipped his head to her in a courtly bow.

  “Baby, everybody calls me Miz Mavis. You can, too.” Gran grinned at him widely. “Such a polite young fella. Not like some of these other rascals.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Jamal said.

  “Who are your people? You from around here? Don’t sound like it. I’ll bet you from up north or something.” Gran went into full investigation mode. “Don’t you think, Andrea?”

  “Hmm,” Andrea said in what she hoped was a disinterested voice. Still her heartbeat picked up speed when he spoke.

  “I’m from Los Angeles actually. Born and raised there.” Jamal seemed more than willing to answer her questions. “My grandmother lives in Lafayette.”

  “Well, then you’re as good as a Louisiana child,” Gran declared. She nodded with approval, and then leaned toward him. “Got a good job?”

  “Gran, really!” Andrea wanted to sink under the gray-tiled floor.

  “Just got a pretty good one right here in town,” Jamal answered smoothly as though not the least bit put out.

  “That sure is nice. Isn’t it, Andrea?” Gran’s eyes twinkled.

  “Right.” Andrea laced her answer with doubt. “So what are you doing here?”

  “I’m part of the effort to make Bayou Blue a better place to live,” he said. “I’m helping the local Improvement Committee.”

  “What?” Andrea was no less astonished than if he’d announced he was from another planet.

  “And I’m committed to improving the quality of life.” He squared his shoulders.

  “Exactly what we need,” Gran put in with enthusiasm. “A talented young man with a good heart. And strong arms, too. Don’t you think he’s built real strong, Andrea?” She nudged Andrea with her elbow.

  “Oh, please!” Andrea hissed in a low voice. She was mortified to find him watching her with an amused expression.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I try to work out three times a week. And I eat all my vegetables.”

  “Your mamma raised a fine son.” Gran patted his arm and glanced at Andrea. “Real fine.”

  “The meeting is about to start. Let’s sit down.” Andrea pushed Gran toward empty seats in the second row from the front. “Excuse us.”

  “Come on, baby.” Gran snagged Jamal’s hand before she could be hauled off. “There’s plenty seats.”

  He glanced at Andrea, pressing his lips together, apparently to keep from laughing. Andrea ground her teeth in frustration. Gran’s blatant matchmaking was galling. Yet the only thing she could do was follow them. With the grace of a ballet dancer, Gran maneuvered herself so that he was placed between them.

  “Perfect,” he said, grinning at her.

  Andrea’s stomach fluttered. Somehow she’d become susceptible to that dam dimple! She did her best to ignore him. Her heart had only just healed from the bruising Ellis had inflicted. He, too, had a smile that could melt icebergs, the liar. Andrea had gone back to using her maiden name before the ink was dry on the divorce decree. One whole week had been devoted to changing her credit cards and driver’s license. It was a move to obliterate Ellis Reeves from her life. Andrea vowed to be in total control the next time, if there was a next time. Jamal Turner was not going to change her mind. Neither would her crafty grandmother.

  As though reading her mind, he turned to look at her again. Some kind of force snatched away her thought of resistance. His gaze traveled down her face to her neck and beyond. Andrea’s breathing now matched her increased heart rate. There was no denying the raw sexual energy this man could put into a simple glance. Andrea squirmed in her seat as a pleasant aching need stabbed her pelvis. When he looked up into her eyes again, she felt pure desire. She glanced at his hands. A vivid picture of him reaching up to unbutton her blouse popped into her head. Her head was swimming at the thought of his fingers on her bare skin. Andrea looked from his hands back to his face and swallowed hard. She put a shaky hand to her forehead and rubbed hard to break this disquieting spell he had woven.

  She was obscenely happy to be introduced by the time she was called. When asked to give a statement, she did not mind at all. Anything to distract her from the way her body kept responding to Jamal. She was brief. Andrea made broad mention of problems, but did not spend much time on them.

  “I look forward to working with everyone to make the clinic one we can be proud of.” Andrea said.

  “Thank you. I’m sure you’re going to do a fine job.”

  Fred Hilliard, the president of the board, looked at the other officials. “Y’all got any questions?” When no one spoke, he moved on to other business.

  “You did great,” Jamal said when she slipped back into her seat.

  Andrea let out a long breath. “Thanks. I need all the support I can get.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned at her.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, but he put a finger to his tips.

  “Listen.” He nodded toward the aldermen.

  “And, Ms. Noble, we know inventory and the books at the clinic are in a bad way. Mr. Jamal Turner there is going to help you get it all on the new computer.” Mr. Hilliard smiled. “He’s just what you need.”

  “Ain’t that the truth!” Gran burst out. She clapped her hands with glee.

  Andrea stared at Jamal in shock. “But what, how—”

  “They interviewed me two weeks ago. The clinic needs my services; I needed a job, and bam! You got me.

  “In my office?” Andrea whispered to herself.

  He dipped his head in a mock bow. “Jamal Turner, at your service.”

  Andrea sat stunned. She gazed at Gran and then back at the dimple that kept yanking at her pulse. This was incredible. All her plans to keep out of his line of fire shot down! He’d be within reach. Trouble already. Just the thought of
being close to him brought on the urge to feel those muscular arms. Was her armor strong enough?

  He tilted his head to one side, an impish glint in his dark eyes. “I look forward to working with you, Nurse Noble.”

  Chapter 3

  No place like home,” Andrea murmured.

  She stood on the far edge of her grandmother’s land and gazed into the distance. Tall grass moved in the muggy breeze of late spring. From a mile away, Andrea could smell the wet earth that surrounded the bayou. Snowy egrets floated in the blue sky gracefully, white wings stretched wide like glider planes. In imitation, Andrea spread her arms and turned in a circle.

  She stopped spinning and faced the spacious house where she’d spent so many happy days. The cypress walls were a weathered grayish brown color that blended with the scenery. A porch wrapped around half the house. On it were cane-backed wooden rocking chairs. These had been made by her grandfather and father. She could remember the secure feeling of sitting in her father’s lap while he crooned and rocked her. Interspersed between the chairs were several small tables. Of course, potted plants and hanging ferns were plentiful. Gran had to have her greenery. Andrea smiled as she remembered her grandfather teasing Gran that she lived in a jungle. Being with Gran here and now seemed natural, as though she’d never grown up and moved away.

  As though she knew Andrea was thinking of her, Gran appeared at the kitchen window and beckoned to her. Andrea waved back as she strolled across the yard. She smiled as she took one last look around her. Even after being here for two weeks, she still could not get over how much the beauty of Bayou Blue cast a spell over her.

  Andrea was hardly through the back door when Gran started talking.

  “Sit yourself down right here and let me wait on you.”

  Gran bustled around the kitchen, adjusting the flame underneath pots and stirring. Cousins, uncles, and aunts filled every available space in the wood-frame house on Basin Road. The sound of laughter came from a group of her relatives on the porch. In the living room, another crowd sat in front of the color television, intent on a baseball game. Andrea was still trying to adjust to the constant stream of adults and children. She’d become accustomed to a quiet, almost isolated life with Ellis. One of her young cousins was shooed from her lap by Gran. The sixty-nine-year-old dynamo placed a plate piled with red beans and sausage in front of Andrea.

  “Go play outside with the other children, Cher6. Andrea’s not gonna disappear.” Gran patted her head, full of pigtails and colorful barrettes.

  “I know you don’t want to miss the ball game. Besides, I live here now. I’m not company.” Andrea breathed in the smell of red pepper, onions, garlic, and bay leaf.

  Gran put a wedge of cornbread on a saucer and placed it next to Andrea’s plate. “I’m having more fun in this kitchen, as usual. Hey, Leonard. Get you some more, darlin’.” She pinched the cheek of her tall, husky grandson.

  “Hey, Drea. Heard you gonna run the clinic. That’s great.” Leonard grabbed another can of soda, plopped a link of hot sausage on a bun, and winked at her before leaving to go back to the game.

  “That Leonard is a mess. Always stuffing himself. Don’t know how he stays so thin.” Gran chuckled. “You know he worked on fixing the clinic up. He’s a master carpenter like his daddy.” She looked proud as she always did when talking about her sons.

  As though he’d been summoned, the nut brown man came into the kitchen. “Mama, you got some more potato salad? Hey, now, little lady.” Uncle Curtis gave Andrea an affectionate pat on the head as though she were still ten years old.

  “Yeah, cher. Best slow down, though. You know what the doctor said.” Gran did not try to stop him from getting thirds despite her warning.

  “I lost seven pounds,” Uncle Curtis protested.

  “And you gonna put ’em back on in one day,” Gran quipped with an indulgent smile.

  “This little bit won’t hurt. Ain’t that right, Drea?” Uncle Curtis leaned against the counter and scooped up some potato salad. He chewed with a look of pure satisfaction. “Hmm, can’t nobody cook like Miss Mavis Ricard.”

  “Go on now.” Gran blushed with pleasure.

  “I understand the clinic is comin’ along great,” Uncle Curtis said. “Gonna be like new.”

  “Just needs a few finishing touches,” Andrea said.

  “Good thing, too. Folks need a decent clinic around here. Talk was those folks stole more than they helped the patients.” Uncle Curtis shoved more potato salad in his mouth.

  “That’s right,” Gran agreed. “But with Andrea taking over, things gonna turn around. She’s got some good new employees. Like that nice young man.” She glanced over her shoulder at Andrea.

  “For sure.” Uncle Curtis nodded and chewed.

  “Now that you mention it, I don’t appreciate the board hiring staff without my input.”

  Andrea scowled at the thought of a handsome face wearing a smug expression. Irritation mixed with an odd tingle of attraction.

  Gran cleared her throat. “If he’s qualified and likable, what’s the harm? Besides, I can tell he’s the right man for the job.”

  “From talking to him for five minutes? Sure you can,” Andrea said dryly.

  “I don’t know why you meet a nice, single man and get your back up,” Gran said, both hands on her hips.

  Andrea pointed a forefinger at her. “Stop right there.”

  “What?” Gran assumed a look of pure innocence.

  “None of your tricks, Gran. I’m not kidding.” Andrea scowled at her, hoping to look fierce.

  “All I’m saying is you don’t have to give up men forever just because your husband was no good.” Gran turned back to the stove.

  “I don’t want to have this talk again, so let me say this clearly. I’m concentrating on my career for now.” Andrea walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Got it?”

  “I saw the way you were looking at him.” Gran put the lid on the pot of red beans and faced her again.

  “Gran—”

  “Fine, be by yourself,” Gran grumbled.

  “I’m going to enjoy my homecoming and get the clinic in shape. That’s more than enough.”

  “If you say so.” Gran lifted a shoulder.

  “I do say so,” Andrea added firmly.

  “But you gotta admit, that Jamal is sure gonna dress the place up. Such a fine-looking young man.” Gran’s dark eyebrows arched.

  “I need competent, qualified staff. Not window dressing.” Andrea clenched her teeth. “But I’m stuck with him, I guess.”

  “He didn’t take the job just to get on your nerves. Right, Curtis?” Gran said.

  Uncle Curtis choked on a bit of potato salad. He shook his head. “Hmm… ahem, dunno,” was his garbled answer.

  “Don’t you think he’s a nice young fella?” Gran pressed on.

  “Yeah, umm, I, er…” Uncle Curtis blinked like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Ellis seemed like a nice young fellow, too. So do half the serial killers on death row,” Andrea retorted. “The man’s got ’player’ plastered all over him.”

  “Now, that’s plain silly to judge the boy so fast. Ain’t that right, Curtis?” Gran turned to her son for support again.

  “I’ve got tire marks all over me from the last hit-and- run. Trust me, I know the type.” Andrea waved a hand.

  “Curtis, tell her she’s being unreasonable,” Gran said. She fixed him with a hard look.

  “Leave me outta this. I didn’t have nothin’ to do with it.”

  “Nothing to do with what, Uncle Curtis?” Andrea looked from Gran to him.

  He shook his head as though warding off danger. “Not me, uh-uh.”

  ‘Tell me what—” Before Andrea could finish, her cousin Leonard came in, talking to someone behind him.

  “Don’t worry. If my grandmamma invited you, then you can come in the kitchen with the family.” Leonard grinned. “Ain’t that right, Gran?”

  Jamal stro
lled in behind him. “Boy, sure smells good in here. Nothing like down-home cooking.”

  Andrea’s mouth dropped open. She gaped at him for five seconds, and then turned to Gran with a scowl. The woman had more nerve than ten busybodies put together.

  “We’re so glad you could come, sugar.” Gran pointedly avoided looking at Andrea. She strolled over and took him by the arm. “You have a seat right here.” “Thanks, ma’am.” Jamal sat at the kitchen table and beamed at Andrea. “Good to see ya again.”

  Jamal looked perfectly at home with his elbows propped on the table. Andrea squinted at him. The man was so annoying. She was determined not to be affected by him. Let him parade around in front of her. So he looks okay. So what? Andrea lifted her nose in the air and continued to gaze at him.

  His broad shoulders were covered by a dark blue cot-ton knit shirt with a white stripe on the collar and short sleeves. Andrea tried not to notice how his powerful brown arms bulged even at rest on the table. He wore a leather belt the color of dark wine around his trim waist. The shirt was neatly tucked into khaki pants that fit snugly and molded to his thighs. He shifted his legs to get more comfortable, and that one simple motion made her blink. When he rumbled a deep laugh at something her cousin said, Andrea felt heat course through her body. Jamal’s voice, rich and melodious, hinted at secret pleasures. His full mouth curved up when he turned to her. An image of his lips against hers blossomed in her mind.

  “You excited?”

  Andrea drew a ragged breath. “What?” she asked, mortified that he had seen into her thoughts.

  “About the clinic, I mean.” Jamal wore a half smile. “You must look forward to starting in a few days.”

  Andrea leaned against the countertop to get her balance. “The clinic, right,” she blurted out.

  “Right, the clinic,” he echoed. His brown eyes glittered with mirth. “You know, that place where you’re the boss?”

  Jamal wore a sexy smile. Could he see the lusty images that had formed in her mind? Andrea took a deep breath to clear them away. Annoyance took over again at the conceit he seemed to radiate. He was sure of his ability to charm her. His appeal evaporated at that instant. The last thing she would do was give him the satisfaction.