No Time like Mardi Gras. Kimberly Lang

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      “Ah, timing can be a tricky thing. You never really know how long it will take for the parade to get to a specific spot. There are delays, the floats break down, you name it. But this—” he gestured to the crowd around them “—is part of the experience, too.”

      “So we wait?”

      “We wait. Do you want a drink or anything?” When she shook her head, Colin sat and leaned back against the lamppost.

      Although there was no telling how nasty the sidewalk might be, Jamie sat as well. She felt a little awkward now, this good idea faltering a bit as she tried to decide how to make small talk with a stranger—regardless of how pretty he might be. One thing she’d never been very good at was cocktail party chitchat.

      Thankfully, though, Colin didn’t seem to have the same problem. “Is this your first time in New Orleans?”

      “No.” She’d been down here a few years ago with Joey for a game before he’d moved up to the majors. Before everything had gotten crazy and gone to hell. But there was no way she was going to mention that. “It was a very short trip, though, on business with my boyfriend, so I didn’t have much time to explore.”

      That eyebrow went up again. “Boyfriend?”

      “Ex,” she clarified.

      Colin winked at her. “That’s good to know.”

      Was that flirting or just charm? It was so hard to tell. She’d been out of the game for so long she didn’t remember how to play. And she certainly didn’t know how to respond. Joey had been the jealous type—possessive, actually, she amended with hindsight—so her flirting skills were rusty from disuse. Maybe she should delay even easing back into this.

      Colin stretched long, tanned legs out and got comfortable. “So, where’s home?”

      Oh, it was going to be tough, though.

      “South Carolina,” she answered automatically, dragging her attention from those nice calf muscles. As he nodded, she realized that she’d just led Colin to believe that she was only in New Orleans for a short visit. Still, the statement wasn’t entirely false. South Carolina was home, even if she didn’t live there anymore and hadn’t for a while. She’d followed Joey to five different cities and they’d never felt like home, and while she was here now, New Orleans didn’t feel like home yet, either. So it wasn’t entirely a false statement, and considering the circumstances, it probably wasn’t a bad thing to let Colin keep that misunderstanding for now. She didn’t trust herself not to flirt herself right into trouble accidentally. And since he could be an ax murderer for all she really knew, some vagueness about her living situation was probably wise. “And you?”

      “Born and raised right here in New Orleans.”

      “A real ragin’ Cajun, huh?”

      His mouth twisted as if something was funny. “Something like that.”

      Oh, she just needed to slap a warning label right across his forehead. A good-looking, charming, self-professed ragin’ Cajun bartender who just happened to have no plans on Fat Tuesday other than to escort a woman around... Oh, the dangers were piling up, and Jamie knew she should just cut and run. But, oh... She could feel her libido crank its engine. Talk about her own personal Kryptonite. It was what had attracted her to Joey in the first place—a slightly rough-around-the-edges underdog with a big dream and charm to spare.

      Really? This is how you’re going to start out?

      It had been her downfall before; it would be stupid to repeat the experience.

      But maybe just for today?

      How much trouble could she get into, really? It wouldn’t be anything serious, just one day to enjoy herself before the new life kicked in. It made sense—Mardi Gras was supposed to be the big decadent party before the austerity of Lent. One last day before life got real again. Hell, she couldn’t even assume he’d stick around longer than this parade anyway. They were talking about an hour or so, max. What harm could really come of it?

      It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, she had a cute, seemingly nice enough guy to talk to, and she was in the middle of a crowd that just wanted to have a good time. She felt free, powerful, in charge of her own life again.

      She really couldn’t ask for more, could she?

      She deserved a break. After everything she’d dealt with—the pain, the shame, the complete destruction of her life—she’d earned this Fat Tuesday and all the decadent fun it could bring her.

      She could have today, by God.

      The noise level had been increasing steadily, and now music floated over the top of the roar. It kept her from having to respond.

      Colin pushed to his feet. “Here it comes.” He extended a hand to help her up. She was still justifying everything to herself as Colin hauled her up and stationed himself behind her as the crowd pushed forward toward the street and the barricades.

      His chest was broad and hard against her back, and one hand came to rest easily and naturally on her hip as he leaned forward to tell her something. He was wearing shorts, like she was, and she could feel the hair on his legs tickling her calves and thighs. She totally missed whatever it was he was trying to say.

      “What?”

      “Don’t reach down if anything hits the ground. You’ll get your hands stomped.”

      What the hell were they throwing off these floats? Diamonds? She twisted around to look at him. “Over cheap plastic beads?”

      “Yep.”

      “Seriously?”

      Colin laughed, patting her hip as he did. It left a nice residual tingle. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. Look, there’s Rex.”

      Jamie strained up on tiptoe, craning her neck to see. Wow. She’d heard these parades were amazing, and she’d expected something really cool, but this.... A massive gilded throne, ornate costumes with feathers and men on horseback in matching courtier outfits with satin pantaloons...just wow.

      She jumped up and down to get a better view, accidentally bumping against Colin’s chin in the process.

      “Can you not see?” he asked. She shook her head and tried to use his shoulder as a boost when she jumped this time. A second later, she felt hands on her legs and the whisper of hair against her thighs. She jumped for real this time.

      Colin was crouched behind her. “Come on. Climb up.”

      He didn’t wait for an answer, and she felt the broad base of his shoulders pressing against the backs of her thighs as Colin’s head dipped between her knees. Then she was up over the crowd—with an amazing view of the parade—with Colin holding her as though she weighed nothing at all. He shrugged to get her settled, and she quickly wrapped her legs behind his back to anchor herself.

      “Better?” he shouted up.

      She was still reeling from the fact his head was now between her thighs and a rather personal bit of her anatomy was now pressed against the nape of his neck. Funny how she’d never noticed the inappropriateness of this СКАЧАТЬ