“So did you like Miz Honeycutt?” she asked before he’d gotten the door shut behind them.
“She’s very nice.” He flipped through the mail on the hall table, trying to decide the best way to approach this. After the divorce, the thought of getting married again was repugnant. But as time passed and Evie grew, the thought was on his mind more and more. Finding a mother for Evie was an idea he was starting to embrace. But it appeared his daughter was taking matters into her own hands.
“What did you talk about?”
“Your schoolwork.”
She nodded and gazed expectantly up at him. “If I don’t learn enough, will I be in her class again next year?”
Remy sighed as he set the junk mail back down. She was way too happy at the prospect of repeating second grade. Just as he suspected, Evie’s sudden poor spelling skills had ulterior motives. But he had to give his daughter kudos for good taste. “We’ll have to work extra hard, because not only do I want you to pass, but Miss Honeycutt does, too.”
“Oh.” Evie stared at her feet.
He loosened his tie and pulled his shirttails from his pants. “We’ll talk about that some more this weekend, but right now, how about we go somewhere for supper? I’m starved.”
Her head popped up and she grinned. “Can we go to Gator’s?”
Looked like today was his day for females keeping him on his toes. “Now, cher, your choice wouldn’t have anything to do with that arcade game they installed, hmm?”
She offered him a pleading glance. “But they also got the best crawfish pie. You said so, too.”
“I guess I did.” He tweaked her nose. God, he was such a pushover, and his daughter knew it. “Okay, let me get ready.”
Evie performed some sort of ballet move. “I wonder if Miz Honeycutt likes crawfish.”
“You’ll have to ask her on Monday.” And tell me what she says.
Shaking his head, he went to the back of the house to the master bedroom and bath. Finding a suitable mother for Evie was one thing, but he wasn’t about to lose his head over a woman. Not ever again. Once burned, twice shy was a cliché for a reason. Only he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to kiss Sasha again.
He took a quick shower, dressed, and pulled on his best pair of Ropers, the ones he’d worn that night in New Orleans. Grabbing his wallet and keys off the dresser, he frowned as he caught his reflection in the mirror. Maybe he should find some nice middle-aged widow to look after Evie. She could move into one of the spare rooms and solve all his problems. His mind conjured up a picture of Sasha Honeycutt, her golden hair cascading around her shoulders, her sultry voice saying his name. Well, maybe not all.
A half hour later, he pulled his personal vehicle, a black Dodge Charger, into the parking lot of a local restaurant that specialized in authentic Cajun food. The place wasn’t much to look at—a plain, rambling strip-mall-type exterior. Remy’s mouth watered in anticipation of the best crawfish in town. On Fridays and Saturdays, Gator’s lured Cajun bands over from Louisiana. There would be plenty of single women willing to two-step with him and get his mind off Miss Honeycutt—the taste of her lips and the crazy urge to mess up the prim schoolteacher.
He took Evie’s hand and went inside. Long rectangular tables were arranged around the dance floor in the middle with smaller, more intimate seating along the edges of the low-ceilinged room. All the tables were covered with red and white checked tablecloths, and business cards were tacked to the walls and ceiling. With the exception of that growing collection, the place hadn’t changed since he was Evie’s age. He tugged on his ear and pushed the memories aside.
Before his eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, Evie tugged on his hand. “It’s Uncle Ethan and he’s with—”
She squealed, dropped his hand, and ran across the restaurant. Remy blinked and looked to where his daughter had run. She’d been right, that was Ethan…escorting a familiar blonde onto the dance floor.
Remy’s stomach burned, and spots appeared in front of him. He followed his daughter’s path across the restaurant, nodding to people who greeted him, but didn’t stop. He held himself stiffly, unable to take his gaze off the woman on Ethan’s arm. She wasn’t wearing the backless dress that had fueled his fantasies, but she wasn’t wearing that hideous school bus thing, either.
Evie waited on the edge of the dance floor. “Papá, look! Did you know Miz Honeycutt was going to be here?”
Chapter Three
Sasha thought she heard someone call her name. Distracted, she glanced over Ethan’s shoulder, her stomach plummeted, and she missed a step, landing on his poor foot. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Are you…?” He looked down at her and frowned before loosening his hold to turn around.
She blinked, but Evie Fontenot was still standing on the edge of the dance floor, and wouldn’t you know it, her sexy-as-sin father was crossing the restaurant, closing the distance between them like some avenging angel. Ha, devil is more like it. A devil dressed in a white button-down shirt that contrasted with his olive complexion and dark jeans that showcased his slim hips and long legs. And, oh God, he was wearing those black cowboy boots that made her stomach tingle.
What were father and daughter doing here? It had to be a coincidence. From what she’d heard from fellow teachers, Gator’s Cajun Grill was a popular Friday night spot. Remy Fontenot had no way of knowing where she’d be tonight or that she had a date. She hadn’t lived in Rose Creek long enough for everyone to know her business. No, that would come later. A definite downside to small-town life. Too bad she couldn’t see herself as a big city person.
Before Sasha’s stomach could settle back to its usual spot, Evie had planted herself in front of her and Ethan.
Evie put her hands on her hips. “Uncle Ethan, what are you doing here with Miz Honeycutt?”
Uncle? Sasha groaned. Seriously? Even in a small town like Rose Creek, what were the odds?
“Hello to you, too, Evangeline,” Ethan said in a stern tone, then grinned and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “Sasha is my date. You know what that means, right?”
Evie scowled. “But—”
“Date?” Remy had joined them, and his scowl matched his daughter’s, a line forming in the middle of his forehead. He looked at Sasha, and the groove deepened. “You’re dating my baby brother?”
“Brothers? But…but…Ethan said…” You’ve got to be kidding me. Sasha gulped back a sudden wave of nausea. Oh good Lord, this just got better and better.
Ethan clapped Remy on the back, rather hard from the sound of it. “Remy’s my much older brother…more like a father really…since he practically raised my sister and me. Isn’t that right?”
Was Remy growling? Good grief, had she wandered onto the set of a Fellini movie?
Say something, Sasha. “I didn’t…I don’t…I mean, you two have—”
“Different last names?” Remy put his arm on Ethan’s shoulder and squeezed, making the other man grunt. “We’re half brothers.”
Side by side, Sasha could see similarities. They were the same height and general body type, but Ethan didn’t have Remy’s thick black hair or bittersweet chocolate eyes or deep silky voice. Ethan Dent was handsome and pleasant, but she had to admit he didn’t make her heart beat erratically the way Remy did. Oh, Sasha, you are in so much trouble.
“How do you two know each other?” Ethan’s gaze bounced between her and Remy.
“Miz Honeycutt’s my new teacher.” Evie sidled closer to Sasha, smiling broadly.
Ethan’s head jerked back, and his gaze landed on Remy. “She’s your cat lady?”
Sasha didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was being a “cat lady” better or worse than “that widow?” Ethan was staring open-mouthed at Remy, whose chiseled cheekbones had sprouted a bloom of color.
“Uncle Ethan, do you know Henry?” Evie balanced on her toes in an attempt to be more included in the conversation.
Ethan scowled and glanced bet
ween all three of them. “Who’s Henry?”
Sasha opened her mouth, but before she could speak Remy did.
“He’s Sasha’s cat. A Maine coon if I’m not mistaken.” Remy elbowed Ethan. “Keep up, little brother.”
How did…? Sasha stared at Remy, who had a faint smile tugging the corners of his mouth. She was transported back to the night they met and how that generous mouth felt and tasted.
What is wrong with me? She was on a date, a real date—her first in what felt like forever, for crying out loud. She’d been a married woman before the ink was dry on her teaching degree and a dateless widow for five years. Now all she could think about was the feel of Remy’s lips on hers, the way he tasted of whiskey and cigars, the way his tongue— No! She lifted her gaze from his mouth to find him staring at her. He winked, and Sasha ground her teeth. Of all the nerve.
Remy put his hand on Evie’s shoulder and eased her back as a pair of dancers swung past. “Maybe we should all sit and get out of everyone’s way.”
“Are we gonna sit with Uncle Ethan and Miz Honeycutt?” Evie looked from one adult to another, a hopeful expression on her features, her hands held in supplication. “Please. Please. Please.”
Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Sasha?”
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Remy’s presence made her realize, although Ethan was a super nice guy and a doctor to boot, he didn’t make her heart race or her palms sweat the way his brother did.
On the other hand, she and Ethan were on a date, a date she’d accepted, and she wouldn’t abandon him. Whoa, who said anything about abandoning Ethan? Evie had asked to join them, that’s all. But if Evie joined them, that meant Remy would, too, and Sasha’s concentration would always land on him, like some sort of homing beacon. She loved her new job, her new hometown, and she didn’t need a relationship blunder taking that away from her.
Remy smoothed Evie’s hair off her forehead. “We can’t horn in on Ethan’s date.”
“I think you already have, dear brother.” Ethan glanced at Sasha and sighed.
Heat flooded her cheeks. It would appear her silence had spoken for her. She would like to blame Remy for ruining her date, but the truth was it was just as much her fault. Other men ceased to exist for her when faced with Remy Fontenot, but she had to at least try. She couldn’t risk her fresh start. The man had danger written all over him, which meant he was not right for her. She wanted normal. Ordinary. Someone who didn’t set off warning signals every time he looked her way. “It really wouldn’t be right to—”
The buzzing of Ethan’s phone interrupted her, and he held up a finger.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he pulled the chirping gadget out of his pocket. He grimaced at the screen. “I better get this.”
“I guess that’s what can happen when you go out with a doctor.” Remy watched his brother walk away, then turned back to Sasha and quirked an eyebrow. “Perhaps your mother’s advice didn’t take that into consideration.”
“My mother’s advice…? Oh.” Yeah, she’d thrown that rather juvenile bit about a doctor out there because he’d been so sexy in that starched and pressed uniform, and she hadn’t welcomed the attraction or the way her heart sped up around him. She’d mentally kicked herself for kissing him in the first place. And that was before she even knew he was in law enforcement. As if saying some stupid stuff about marrying a doctor would—
Evie tugged on Sasha’s hand. “Can we sit with you, Miz Honeycutt?”
“May we sit with you,” Sasha said.
Evie tilted her head. “Huh? But Papá and I don’t have a table yet.”
“I think Miss Honeycutt was correcting your grammar.” Remy rested his palm over Evie’s head.
“But I’m not in school,” Evie pointed out.
“You’re right, but I guess some professions are 24/7,” Sasha said and glanced at her date pushing the restaurant’s outer door open and stepping out, his cell phone held to his ear. The whole scenario brought back unwelcome memories of her previous life. Not that she was looking to marry Ethan, but was one uninterrupted date too much to ask?
Remy glanced toward the door his brother had disappeared through and cleared his throat. “How about if Evie and I sit with you at least until Ethan gets back? We can always move to a different table after.”
“But I don’t want to move to another table. I want to sit with Miz Honeycutt.” Evie looked close to tears.
“I’m sure we can all sit together. We have a table over here, and there’s plenty of room.” Sasha took Evie’s hand. Her date was already ruined, even if Ethan returned and Remy and Evie sat on the other side of the restaurant. Sasha suspected her gaze would be seeking out Remy for the remainder of the evening. Her stomach churned. Not exactly a fresh start if she traveled down the same path as before, but she truly liked the little girl and hated to disappoint her. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
Evie grabbed her dad’s hand and walked between them as they made their way to Sasha’s table. Heads turned and people nodded and smiled as they passed. Sasha could imagine the picture they were presenting to the town’s residents.
Remy pulled out Sasha’s chair while Evie scrambled into a seat on the other side of the table. Taking the seat next to Sasha, Remy sat across from his daughter. Sasha drew in a breath to brace herself against Remy’s closeness but succeeded only in breathing in his tempting scent. She could pick out hints of cinnamon, grapefruit, and mandarin orange. He shifted in the seat, and his thigh brushed against hers, sending tingles of anticipation racing through her. She may not have been with a man in five long years, but she hadn’t forgotten the basics.
Their waitress, Claire, appeared with the drinks she and Ethan had ordered and blinked. “Have you switched dinner dates? Or am I having some sort of senior moment?”
“No senior moments.” Sasha lined up her silverware so they were equidistant apart. “My date had to slip out for a moment so they’re keeping me company until he gets back.”
“Miz Honeycutt is my teacher,” Evie said. “Isn’t she pretty?”
“Sure is, and I’ll bet that’s why she’s so popular tonight.” Claire set the drinks down. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small package of crayons and set them in front of Evie, then glanced at Sasha. “Did you want to wait for your…uh…other friend to get back before ordering?”
Sasha had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the irony. She’d gone from cat lady to a woman on a date with two men—brothers!—at once. The gossips would have a field day tomorrow.
“But I’m hungry,” Evie said as she opened the box of crayons.
The waitress rested her hand on the back of Evie’s chair. “Well, how about some appetizers?”
Evie looked from Sasha to her father. “Can we, please?”
Remy touched Sasha’s arm. “How about it? Appetizer?”
It was just a light touch, the thing someone did to get your attention before they spoke. So why had all her senses gone on high alert? “Sure. That’s fine with me, but I have no idea what to order or what Ethan might want.”
“Leave it to me,” he said. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Including you. Her imagination supplied that last part, and it should have had her sputtering in anger. At him? At herself? Who knew? And that made it worse. What was wrong with her? Jimmy had been the same way—taking charge of everything. He’d pampered her by keeping things from her, and she’d been angry with him since learning the truth. But not standing up for herself, demanding more, burying her head in the sand was on her.
She was a grown woman who could take care of herself, support herself, make her own decisions and therefore, those words should be insulting, not sending sparks along her nerve endings.
Once he’d ordered, Remy turned his attention back to Sasha. “I hope my little brother doesn’t always treat you like this.”
“It’s our first date,” Sasha said and immediately felt
disloyal to Ethan for admitting that.
Remy made a tutting sound with his tongue, but the smug expression on his face belied his actions. “The kid’s got a lot to learn about first impressions.”
“You keep calling him a kid. Exactly how old is he?” Sasha asked. She knew Ethan was a veterinarian, so he wasn’t exactly a kid, as Remy insisted on calling him. Unless Ethan had been some sort of child prodigy. And at thirty-two, she hadn’t thought about a big age difference between them and suspected Remy was simply playing up the fact Ethan was younger.
Remy picked up the glass of water the waitress had placed in front of him and examined it.
“Remy?” she prompted. Oh good Lord, she was on a date and using her teacher voice. Whoa, hold on. She and Remy weren’t on a date. Her date was with Ethan.
And yet, here she was sitting with Remy and Evie.
“He’s twenty-six,” Remy finally said and took a sip.
So I’m not some cradle robber. Sasha unwrapped her straw and wound the paper around her finger. But six years was a bigger difference than she would’ve thought. In her peripheral vision she noticed Ethan returning. She released the straw wrapper from her finger and smoothed it out on the table. “If you think he’s a kid at twenty-six, you must be much, much older than you look.”
Remy sputtered and choked on the water he’d been swallowing just as Ethan appeared behind him.
“You okay there, bro?” Ethan asked and gave his brother a good pounding on the back, winking at Sasha as he did so.
Remy swung his arm in a wide defensive arc. Cough. “Quit that”—cough—“I’m fine.”
“Papá? Did it go down the wrong hole?” Evie had paused with a crayon in her hand.
Ethan danced out of the way of Remy’s flailing arm. “Sure sounded like something went down wrong. Can’t be too careful…a guy your dad’s age and all.”
Sasha stifled a laugh, not wanting to encourage them. Evie shook her head and went back to coloring, as if accustomed to her father and uncle’s sibling rivalry.
The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker Page 3
