Remy was still trying to catch his breath, and his answer was to swing his arm in a wider arc. Ethan laughed and jumped out of the way when Remy pushed his chair back.
Still chuckling, Ethan went to Sasha’s side and hunkered down next to her seat. “Sasha, I’m afraid there’s an emergency at one of the ranches. A mare is having trouble giving birth. I have to go and see what I can do.”
Sasha touched his arm. “Oh no, I hope everything will be okay.”
“Are you gonna help the horse, Uncle Ethan?” Evie leaned over the table, resting on her elbows.
“I’m sure going to try.” Ethan stood. “Sorry to cut this evening short. Animal babies are rather like humans in that they don’t always pick the most convenient times to be born.”
“That’s okay, I understand.” She should be used to it actually. How many times had Jimmy canceled dates or missed family functions because of work? How many meals had she eaten alone?
Sasha pushed her chair back, but Evie leaned across the table and grabbed her hand. “But I don’t want Miz Honeycutt to leave,” Evie whined.
Remy looked to his daughter and then to Sasha. She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do. “Evie and I can take Sasha home. No need to ruin her whole evening because you got called away.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, preventing her from standing.
Sasha did her best to ignore Remy’s touch. She could see Ethan was torn, and she regretted her earlier self-pitying thoughts comparing him to her late husband. From his expression, she worried he picked up on her disappointment despite telling him it was okay. Remy’s comment hadn’t helped, either. Nor did his hand, which now felt more like a caress. A caress she wouldn’t lean in to.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry this happened but—”
“I understand and admire your dedication. You can be very proud of the work you do.” Sasha threw Remy her “stink eye” as she shrugged off his hand, pushed back her chair, and rose. She gave Ethan a quick hug, but it was platonic, something she would have given any friend or colleague. “You go. I’ll stay with Remy and Evie.”
Ethan lowered his chin at Evie. “I’m counting on you to be a watchful chaperone.”
Evie nodded enthusiastically, but Sasha didn’t miss the mischievousness in her student’s eyes. “Oh, I will, I promise. And I’ll do the best job ever.”
Ethan stepped back and glanced at Remy. “Looks like I’m leaving you in capable hands.”
Heat rose in Sasha’s cheeks. Remy had capable hands all right and the calluses to prove it.
“Uncle Ethan? What’s a chap-chaperone?”
Ethan laughed, and Sasha joined him. She would enjoy tonight with Remy, and after this she’d keep her distance. She already knew she and Ethan would never be more than friends because they were missing that spark. Just her luck the first man to ignite that spark was off-limits. Even if Remy weren’t a parent of a student, he was in the one profession she’d sworn to avoid. She knew the cost, the cancelled plans, the holidays spent alone. Of course that was nothing compared to the nausea a vivid imagination caused whenever he was late getting home. Or the increase in heart rate a simple knock at the door caused.
No, she wasn’t signing up for that ever again.
…
Remy had scrambled out of his seat at the sight of Sasha giving his brother a friendly hug. He wasn’t normally possessive and yet that was the only way he could describe what he’d felt at seeing Sasha with Ethan. And that was after only one kiss and a little flirting. Yes, he wanted a mother for Evie, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep a woman like Sasha in the box marked “wife.” And he wasn’t in the market for another battered heart. Bon Dieu but he was in trouble.
“I really appreciate this,” Ethan said as he backed away.
Remy shifted closer to Sasha but resisted draping an arm around her in some Neanderthal display. Sasha would probably get pissed, and Ethan would give him grief over it. His relationship with his brother was complicated. Given their history, Remy’s attitude was more paternal, but an adult Ethan didn’t see it that way. However, Remy couldn’t turn off the feelings.
“Don’t give it a second thought, little brother. I’ll take good care of her.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. Sasha, I’ll call you.”
Remy couldn’t help notice Sasha had subtly shifted away from him as Ethan left. Good call on not draping that arm around her. Was she afraid of the chemistry between them? Or did she resent it? He knew from the way she fidgeted in his presence she felt something, too, but she seemed to take this no dating a student’s parent seriously. Although he didn’t see the harm, he admired her ethical stance. Then he groaned mentally as he counted the days until the end of the school year.
“You’ll stay and eat with us, right, Miz Honeycutt?” Evie asked, her eyes big and begging. She bounced in her chair when Sasha nodded. Who would’ve thought his daughter would turn out to be a better wingman than his friends had ever been?
Sasha sat and glanced at him, narrowing her eyes as if a thought had just occurred to her. “Are you sure you didn’t arrange all of this?”
No, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take advantage of a situation that had landed in his lap. He also took his seat and turned his head toward her. “If I was that powerful, I wouldn’t have had to arrange anything. You would have accepted my offer of supper in the first place.”
Sasha glanced toward Evie, who was busy drawing on her paper placemat.
“So, no using those powers for good?” Sasha asked, a suspicious tension around her lips, as if she were trying not to smile.
Unable to help himself, he leaned closer and dragged in her scent. The flowery fragrance reminded him of some thing or some place, but he was having trouble placing it. “Oh, believe me, it will be good, cher.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.” Sasha answered in a low, slightly husky voice.
Her sultry voice as much as the words themselves made him shift in his chair. He draped his white cloth napkin over his lap. “Maybe you’re the one who should have been inviting me to dinner.”
That adorable dimple appeared between her eyebrows. “How do you figure that?”
Oh how he wanted to stick his tongue in that sexy little groove. Bon Dieu, he needed to start thinking about all that dreaded paperwork piled on his desk or this was going to get uncomfortable. “I seem to remember you needing my help winning a bet. As I recall, it was a whole twenty dollars.”
“The bet was for a kiss, but not necessarily with you.”
He made a sound deep in his throat. “As if I would have let that happen.”
“And what, exactly, would you have done about it?” Her brow shot up, and challenge gleamed in her eyes.
“I would—”
“Papá?”
They both jumped apart at the sound of Evie’s voice. With a gaze that he hoped told Sasha what they’d started wasn’t over, he turned to his daughter and cleared his throat. “What is it, ‘tite ange?”
“Why aren’t you dancing with Miz Honeycutt? You always dance with all the pretty ladies, and she’s the prettiest one here.” Evie rested her chin on her cupped palm and contemplated the two of them. His daughter tried her best to look innocent, but Remy knew better. Luckily, he agreed with her suggestion, but he definitely needed to have a talk with Evie about her matchmaking. No telling what the little scamp was capable of.
“You’re so right. Miss Honeycutt is the prettiest one here.” He held out his hand to Sasha and gave her an expectant look. “Shall we?”
Sasha glanced at his hand and color rose in her face. Were memories of that night causing the blush in her cheeks? His gut clenched. Or was she searching for a way to decline?
“Sasha?” he prompted when she didn’t respond. Did she not want to dance? Or just not with him? She’d been dancing with Ethan.
She watched the dancers on the floor for a moment and drew her bottom lip into
her mouth. “I don’t know how to two-step. Ethan and I were simply waltzing, and I still managed to tromp on his toes.”
Relieved that his thoughts had taken a wrong turn, he grinned and clasped her hand in his. “No problem. I’ll teach you. You’ll be in good hands. Mine.”
Chapter Four
You’ll be in good hands. Yeah, that’s what Sasha was afraid of—those hands. Those hands doing things to her, making her forget all her promises about fresh starts. She’d never understood women who couldn’t seem to help themselves when it came to certain men. She’d assumed her good sense would always win out, but that sense—all sense—had deserted her.
Before she could object, Remy pulled her out of her seat, and she found herself on the dance floor. She didn’t understand the French lyrics, but she’d heard enough Cajun music to recognize the familiar tune about life on the bayou. Fascinated by the lively steps, she watched the other dancers. “I’m not sure about this…”
“Trust me and follow my lead. It’s basically two steps in one direction and two steps in the other direction. Watch my feet,” he said and began to demonstrate. “It’s like when you walk. Every time you take a step, all of your weight goes onto that leg. Step, step, step, tap.”
He explained further as he showed her, and she admired his natural grace. Then he put his arm loosely around her waist and rested his hand on the small of her back. He slipped her hand into his other one, and she reached up to put hers on his shoulder. They danced two songs, and by the end, she’d started to get the hang of it, at least enough so as not to be embarrassing and to enjoy herself. She tried not to think too hard about the heat of Remy’s body or the weight of his palm in hers. Stay focused, Sasha. Remy was trouble with a capital T, and she’d do well to remember that.
“I see they brought our appetizers. We’d better get back before Evie eats them all,” he said, close enough to be heard above the music. His deep voice in her ear sent shivers straight to her core.
He led her to the edge of the dance floor, his hand resting on her back as they walked to the table. People greeted him as they passed. Thankfully Sasha didn’t see anyone she knew, but it was plain everyone was taking note of Remy’s hand on her back and wondering who she was. She tried to step away from that hand possessively resting on her lower back. “I shouldn’t be dating the parent of a student.”
“You’re not. My brother got called away, and we’re making the best of it by sharing a table for dinner.”
She drew her head back to look up at Remy. “Is that what we’re doing?”
“It’s one way of looking at it,” he said, the glow of something wicked in his dark eyes.
He pulled out her chair when they returned to the table and waited for her to sit before taking his own seat. The gentlemanly gesture warmed her. Uh-oh. Ethan had shown the same courtesy and, while she appreciated the gesture, it didn’t make her tingle all the way down to her toes. Face it, Sasha, it’s not his manners that have you tingling.
To get her mind off the sexy man seated so close his thigh brushed hers each time he shifted in his chair, she snatched an appetizer from the plate and popped it into her mouth.
Remy sucked in his breath. “Cher, I should warn…”
Too late. Sasha had bit down. Unbearable heat flooded her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. Spitting it out was not an option, so she chewed as quickly as possible and choked it down.
She started to reach for her water, but Remy grabbed Evie’s milk and put the glass in Sasha’s hands. He wrapped his fingers around hers and didn’t let go until she nodded to let him know she had a hold of the glass.
He dropped his hand. “Drink this instead.”
He rubbed her back as she gulped the milk. If he was looking to distract her from the burning in her mouth, his hand making those lazy circles on her back was working.
“What’s wrong with Miz Honeycutt?” Evie jumped down and ran around the other side of the table.
“I don’t think Miz Honeycutt is accustomed to the heat level of some of our foods.” Remy ran a reassuring hand over his daughter’s dark, shiny hair.
Evie patted Sasha’s thigh. “Are you better now, Miz Honeycutt?”
“I am. Thanks.” Evie’s concern touched Sasha, and she gave the girl a hug. “I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so spicy.”
“Evie, why don’t you go back to your seat?” Remy glanced around. “We don’t want to embarrass Miss Honeycutt.”
“I think I was the one embarrassing you two,” Sasha said ruefully. “Sorry.”
“You could never embarrass me, cher,” Remy said.
“I’m okay now.” Sasha wiped the tears from her cheeks with her napkin. “What was that?”
“Stuffed jalapenos. I should’ve done a better job of warning you.” His hand on her back was more like a caress now.
“I’ve had jalapenos before, and they weren’t nearly that hot.”
“They stuff them with a certain habanero.” He leaned toward her. “We Cajuns like things hot.”
And he was one hot Cajun. One she needed to stay away from. Something she forgot each time he touched her. Or gazed at her with those deep, obsidian eyes.
“Here. Try one of these. Just don’t take too much dipping sauce.” He handed her the plate of fried shrimp.
The waitress came back with a refill of milk for Evie. “I see our sheriff didn’t warn you about those stuffed peppers.”
“I tried, but it was too late.”
“I’ll survive. It took me by surprise.” Sasha took a sip of her water, hoping to hide her embarrassment and regain her composure. He had derailed the evening just as he had her parent-teacher meeting. Something about this man caused chaos. “Added some excitement to tonight anyway.”
Remy leaned close and whispered, “That was supposed to be my job.”
Her face on fire, and not from the food this time, Sasha glanced at Claire, but she was discussing something with Evie and not paying attention to them. But surely the waitress had heard the exchange. Was she one to spread gossip?
“Well, Sheriff, perhaps you’d best stick to law enforcement. I think that’s where your talents lie.” Good grief, she sounded like some starchy old biddy.
Remy quirked a brow. “Jalapeno poppers and two-stepping aren’t enough excitement for you. Got it. I’ll bring my A-game next time.”
Sasha glanced away as he winked at her, unleashing a storm of butterflies in her stomach. That was not good. He was supposed to be put off, not turned on. And she wasn’t supposed to be getting in deeper and deeper into the same old. “There won’t be a next time, Sheriff. I’m Evie’s teacher.”
She didn’t date parents of students. Or lawmen. Not even handsome charming ones with killer smiles and shiny cowboy boots. Especially not the kind of man she might lose herself in if they were to get involved.
He gave her that killer smile now. “Mon cœur cassé.”
My heart is broken. Sasha had learned that Cajun expression from the doorman at the hotel in New Orleans, who’d said it when he’d learned her friend Denise was married.
Dragging her gaze away from those generous lips, she tried to concentrate on the menu in front of her. She needed to remember she came for a new start, not to lose a good job or her heart because she fell for someone she shouldn’t. Why couldn’t she meet a nice accountant? CPAs weren’t killed by the numbers they crunched.
The waitress finished with Evie and glanced at Remy. “Miss Evangeline wants our crawfish pie. I’m sure that’s okay with you, Sheriff?”
“Of course.” Remy’s attention focused on his daughter.
“Papá, can I go use my quarter now?”
Remy gave her an indulgent look. “That quarter has really been burning a hole in your pocket.”
Evie glanced at her pants. “No, cuz I’m sure I would feel something like that.”
Remy’s low throaty chuckle set off another flurry of butterflies in Sasha’s stomach. Concentrate on your fresh start. Thirty-two
wasn’t old, but she still heard her biological clock ticking in the back of her mind. Part of her reason for moving to Rose Creek was to escape her “poor widow” past, meet a man, and settle down to start that family she’d always wanted.
“Go play your game, but stand so I can see you,” he said.
“Okay!” Evie hustled off to the Grab & Win game nestled in a corner of the room, far from the restaurant’s entrance.
The waitress came around the table to Sasha. “How about you? Have you decided what you’d like? Or do you need more time?”
I’ll take the hot Cajun. No, no, no! She needed to stop this right now. He was off-limits. Her fingertips tried to smooth out a crease on the menu page. “Where’s the crawfish pie? I don’t see it listed.”
“Oh, it’s not on the menu. It’s not a permanent item. The regulars know to ask if Dave made any today.” The waitress turned to greet a passing couple.
“Dave’s crawfish pie is legendary,” Remy said. “And I’m sure Claire can get him to adjust the heat level in yours.”
“I can, but his willingness might depend on how many parking tickets you or your deputies have issued to his wife this month.” She tilted her head and gave him a look that said he brought this on himself.
Remy heaved a deep sigh, as if this wasn’t a new argument. “Amy Jo needs to understand parking in front of a fire hydrant is a safety hazard even if she’s just running in to return her library books. The library has a parking lot around back for a reason.”
The waitress threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender, her pen and pad clenched in one fist. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Sasha’s gaze swung from Remy to the waitress, and she bit her bottom lip. “Maybe I’ll order a salad.”
Claire patted Sasha on the shoulder. “It’s all good, sweetie. I’ll tell Dave that there’s a woman out here keeping our intrepid sheriff on his toes, and he’ll make sure you enjoy your pie.”
Remy made a derisive noise by blowing his breath through his lips.
Sasha bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She didn’t need to call any more attention to their table. “Okay, what the heck. I’ll take a chance.”
The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker Page 4
