Taste the Heat (15 page)

Jason fisted his hands by his side, barely keeping himself from capturing those twitching
lips with his own. But he could afford to be patient. If phase two went anywhere near
as well as phase one, by the end of the night Thursday that wicked smirk would be
the
only
thing Colby had on.

Chapter Twelve

What kind of underwear did one wear when dressing for a night of seduction? So far,
Colby had worn the lacy black ensemble during the first botched attempt after Emma’s
assembly and her purple satin during the second debacle at Jason’s house. Obviously,
the sexier the outfit the better. But when the end goal was to shed the clothes as
quickly as possible, wouldn’t it make more sense simply to go without?

Colby choked on her swig of Diet Mountain Dew. Even in her own thoughts, she couldn’t
let herself go there. With her luck, her dress would bunch up at dinner and she’d
moon the entire restaurant. No, as daring as the notion was, it was best to stick
with traditional come-hither attire. And luckily, she’d ransacked Victoria’s Secret
last week for this very reason. Surveying the array of options in her lingerie drawer,
she selected a red lace push-up bra and matching panties. If that didn’t say
hey baby,
she didn’t know what did.

After donning the sexy garments and sliding a flirty black dress over her head, she
brushed out her hair and reapplied her lipstick. A spritz of perfume later, she was
ready to roll. With a few minutes remaining before Jason was expected, Colby slid
onto a bar stool in the kitchen and grabbed her legal pad, jotting down notes for
her latest recipe: crawfish beignets.

Ever since their emotional dinner, she had been riding a high at the restaurant. The
smells and tastes of the kitchen were now welcomed, instead of endured. Twists on
old recipes kept springing to mind. One night hadn’t erased all the pain of her past.
She wasn’t ready to say she’d completely forgiven her father. But she
was
able to embrace the food of her childhood and her culture. And that was a big first
step.

A loud rap on the door startled her and sent her pulse skittering. Shoving the pad
back in the drawer, Colby pushed to her feet and fanned her face, wondering, not for
the first time, why she couldn’t be the smooth, confident one for once. She closed
her eyes, counted to five, fanned some more, and let out a deep breath.
Game time.

Sauntering through the hall, she added a sway to her hips. True, no one was there
to witness the performance, but it did put what she hoped was a sexy smile on her
face. She raised her chin and tugged open the door. “Why hello there, Handsome—”

And that’s as far as Colby got. Her eyes widened, drinking Jason in. Oh, he was handsome
all right. Sinfully so. And if she hadn’t skipped lunch that day due to a nervous
tummy, she’d be hauling him inside and saying to hell with dinner. He was dressed
in dark slacks and a white button down shirt. The tail untucked, the sleeves rolled
up, and the top button left undone. At the expanse of toned, tanned skin, her mouth
went dry.
Holy Forearms, this man is hot!
She blinked and raised her eyes to meet his amused gaze.

“You, Miss Robicheaux, are stunning.” Under Jason’s sweeping appraisal, Colby’s flesh
tingled as if he’d stroked it. His eyes came to rest on the deep V-neck of her dress,
and a slow smile stretched across his face. “Are you ready?”

Are you?

Nodding, she grabbed her bag from the entry table, still rendered mute. Last night
Jason had texted her, giving no clues as to what lay ahead other than she needed to
pack an overnight bag. When Sherry had shamelessly read this over her shoulder, she
had cackled with delight.

“Here, let me,” he said, slipping the bag from her fingers. He slid his other hand
behind her back, leading her out the door. She loved that he was a physical touch
kind of guy. Not afraid to hold her hand, to brand her with his palm. It was comforting
and thrilling and completely addictive. His hand stayed on the small of her back while
she locked up and as they walked toward his truck. He opened her door, like the true
Southern gentleman he was, and then sealed her inside.

Watching him stroll around the front of the truck, Colby reminded herself for what
felt like the millionth time that this wasn’t truly a date. That it was two friends
hanging out, grabbing dinner, and taking advantage of the unmistakable attraction
snapping between them. But the more she tried to convince herself that her heart was
safe, the more she realized it was a lie. And she hated liars.

If she were to be honest with herself—truly and completely honest—she’d admit that
she was falling in love with Jason. If she’d ever truly fallen
out
of it. And the more time they spent together—the longer she was exposed to his smiles,
to his laughter, to his kindness—the more tempted she was to believe in happily ever
afters again. This summer was changing her. And she wasn’t sure if it was for the
better.

“So, where you taking me, Captain?” she asked when Jason hopped behind the wheel.

He shot her a look as he cranked the engine. “Do you really think I’d ruin forty-eight
hours of mystery now? I’ve worked hard, woman. All will be revealed in time.”

She scrunched her nose. “Not even a tiny hint?”

“Anyone ever tell you that surprises can be romantic?” he asked, backing out of the
driveway. “I’ve heard some women find them to be a turn on.”

Colby snorted. “If I get any more turned on, this truck might just combust.”

It took a moment for her to realize she’d actually spoken that thought aloud. When
she did, she smacked her hand over her mouth.

Jason chuckled. “Well then,” he said with a wicked grin. “Challenge accepted.”

Somehow, Colby managed not to embarrass herself, or set fire to the truck, during
the rest of the drive. But that was more likely due to her preoccupation than her
linguistic skills. As soon as Jason had turned on to the Causeway, she’d known where
he was taking her. And with each mile driven to downtown New Orleans, her mind had
tripped over memories of field trips, former dates, high school dances, and family
gatherings. Over the years, she’d made the occasional trip back home. There were a
handful of Christmases, one botched Thanksgiving, her mother’s funeral three years
ago, and then her dad’s only two months ago. But in all those visits, she’d never
ventured outside their small hometown. Colby hadn’t actually set foot in the city
of New Orleans since she was eighteen years old.

As they drove down I-10, she kept her eyes open for changes. The lingering effects
of Katrina could still be felt, some more noticeable than others. But the regrowth,
the improvements, were everywhere, and that made her heart swell with pride. Southerners
were made of strong stuff for sure, but New Orleanians embodied determination. They
never gave up on their beloved Saints—and that unfailing belief got them the Super
Bowl. And the stubborn faith bled into their homes and communities. Most of the people
who evacuated came right back and rebuilt on the same plot of ground the levee waters
destroyed.

Colby had watched the footage along with the rest of the world and received updates
from her family. But seeing the rejuvenation in person, breathing the same air again…it
felt right.

It felt like
home
.

And that, she suspected, was the whole point of tonight’s venture. Jason was definitely
up to something. First with the food the other night, and now with the city walk down
memory lane. It wasn’t unheard of for locals to make the twenty-minute trek downtown,
but her intuition was screaming that the man had a plan. And the thrum of energy in
her veins said that it was working.

Damn him
.

Colby grinned despite herself. Jason noticed. “I take it you approve?” he asked, glancing
over as he turned onto Royal Street.

She nodded, prepared to tell him just how much she approved, when her breath caught.
They had turned again, this time onto Orleans Street, and the truck slowed to a stop
in front of the Bourbon Orleans.

Flags waved overhead. Wrought iron balconies and charming painted shutters whispered
Southern elegance. This almost two hundred year old building was the site of Colby’s
high school prom. It was where she’d envisioned getting married someday. She snuck
a glance at Jason. Could he have known that?

The man in question winked at her as he handed the keys over to the valet. “Your room
awaits, m’lady.”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“It’s possible your sister gave me some suggestions,” he admitted with a grin. He
reached over and gently grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the lighthearted
expression he’d worn during the drive fading into a look of complete sincerity. “Colby,
I’m not above asking for help if it means making this night perfect for you.”

For a moment, she forgot to breathe. It was possible her heart forgot to beat. She
simply stared into Jason’s melted caramel eyes. There was a message swirling in their
depths, and although she wasn’t entirely sure what it was, butterflies began twirling
in her stomach anyway.

A softened cough popped the bubble that had formed around them. The young valet stood
at the driver’s side door, key in hand, patiently waiting for them to step out. Heat
flooded her cheeks when the man’s lips twitched, and she quickly opened her door and
hopped onto the sidewalk.

As Jason handed their baggage over to the bell staff, Colby breathed in the city.
To the left stood the historic St. Louis Cathedral, and to the right, couples were
strolling down the world famous Bourbon Street. At the corner, a two-piece band played
a jazz tune, the old man’s raspy voice encouraging curious children to dance. Everything
you could possibly want to see or experience in the city was within walking distance.
Growing up, she hadn’t gotten many chances to play tourist, but she had a feeling
tonight that was exactly what Jason had in mind. And she couldn’t wait.

Inside, the hotel was exactly as she remembered. Gorgeous crystal chandeliers, thick
opulent columns, and an extended white tile walkway outlined in smooth black marble.
The lobby screamed decadence. Alcoves to the left and right featured lavish furniture
and lush, patterned rugs that begged guests to rest their feet and soak it in. As
tempting as the thought was, Colby was a woman on a mission.

Jason held out his hand, and she took it.

Waiting as he checked them in and arranged for the luggage delivery to their room,
Colby couldn’t help feeling as though she was Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman.
No, she wasn’t a high-class hooker. And sure, she had stayed in hotels just as fancy,
if not fancier, than this in Vegas. But standing in the lobby of the Bourbon Orleans,
she felt overwhelmed. In over her head. And as if at the end of the night, her life
could change.

Like the main character Vivian, Colby hadn’t expected or needed much from her time
with Jason. She’d imagined hot trysts and stolen moments. Instead, he was giving her
luxury and romance.

The warmth of Jason’s hand snapped her back to reality. He nodded toward the exit.
“Judging by the growling noises coming from your stomach on the ride over, I’d say
the lady is starved.” He flashed a grin when she winced. “Ready for surprise number
two?”

“It’s impolite to remark on bodily functions,” she replied with mock annoyance. Then
she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “And yes,
please.
Feed me.”

He took her hand and slid it into the crook of his arm. “Right this way.”

The
click
of her heels on the lobby tile and then the paved sidewalk of Orleans kept time with
her pulse. She didn’t know where he was taking her, but she knew if the hotel was
any indication, she was in for a treat. At the corner, they took a right onto Bourbon.
People stood on the beautiful wrought iron balconies holding beads and toasting the
crowds below. She and Jason shared a smile at the tipsy couple walking in front of
them. It was forever five o’clock in the French Quarter.

It was after the quick right onto St. Ann Street and then the right onto Royal that
Colby laughed. “Are you walking me in circles, Mr. Landry?”

“A bit of misdirection perhaps,” he said with a chuckle. “Have to make sure you get
the full experience. We have a few minutes to kill before our reservation, and another
surprise is up after dinner. I wanted you to at least glimpse Bourbon in case we’re”—he
bit his lip and shot her a heated look—“eager to return to our room for
dessert
later.”

Oh yeah. Bring on dessert.

She nodded as delicious anticipation tightened her stomach. “Excellent call.”

Through lust-dazed eyes, Colby turned back to the city before her. Paintings of all
shapes, sizes, and styles by local artists lined the fence outside St. Louis Cathedral.
They slowed as they admired the art.

“This would look awesome in Robicheaux’s.”

Jason glanced over at the giant crawfish playing a jazz bass guitar in a swirl of
bright blues and purple music notes. He grinned. “He kinda looks like Cane.”

She looked again and laughed. “I haven’t seen him play in a while, but you’re absolutely
right. I have to get it.”

“Here, let me,” he said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. She opened
her mouth to argue and he pressed a quick kiss against her lips. “I insist.”

The artist handed him his change and then smiled as she asked, “Local or tourist?”
while she wrapped the canvas in plastic.

Jason tuned to Colby who answered, “Local.”

The man beside her tensed, and when he took the packaged artwork from the artist’s
outstretched hands, a satisfied smile stretched across his face.

At the corner of Saint Peter, he tossed money in a musician’s opened guitar case.
Setting the painting beside it, he took Colby’s hand and twirled her in a slow circle.
Tugging her close he whispered, “Dance with me.”

The world shrank to the two of them, and the sultry sound of a blues guitar. Jason’s
hips brushed hers. Their eyes locked. And Colby was lost. A goner. As he slid his
hand around her waist, guiding her left hand behind his neck with the other, she wondered
how she ever thought she could do this without falling head over heels for him again.
The boy of her childhood had been fantasy worthy. The man he’d become was real—battle
tested and flawed, but still devastatingly perfect for her.