Taste the Heat (3 page)

Beside her, Cane reached out and squeezed Colby’s shoulder. Jason pressed a fisted
hand to his mouth, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.

“And for today’s Best Bite, Colby has chosen…drum roll, if you please.” The crowd
quickly granted her request and after a few moments of simulated beats, Mary proclaimed,
“Magnolia Springs Captain Jason Landry and his delicious étouffée! Congratulations,
Captain. Come and collect your prize!”

Chapter Two

So little Colby Robicheaux wasn’t so little anymore.

That’s the thought that ran through Jason’s head as he accepted his plaque and thanked
the crowd. He nodded in gratitude and slid his best friend a smile. Since Cane returned
it, Jason assumed he must’ve missed seeing him hit on his little sister…but from the
knowing looks their neighbors sent in his direction, Cane was the only one. And the
beauty of living in a small town meant it was only a matter of time before someone
filled him in.

As Jason gathered his things together, he replayed their flirtation and cringed. Why
in the hell hadn’t he recognized her sooner? Growing up, he’d practically been an
honorary Robicheaux. He lost track of the amount of family vacations he’d tagged along
on, the holidays he’d crashed, and the nights he’d spent sleeping on their couch.
Colby was the kid sister who followed him around, not a woman with smoky eyes and
a wicked smile that tempted him to do things he had no business thinking.

When was the last time he’d seen her? She’d come in for her father’s funeral a few
months ago, but the memorial had been for family only. The man hadn’t wanted anything
traditional, just his ashes spread at his favorite fishing spot in Lafitte, so the
three siblings had done it privately. Then Colby had turned right back around for
her fancy restaurant in Vegas. That would make it at least seven or eight years.

He stole a glance at the judge’s table. Colby stood there with Cane, listening as
Mary droned on about something or other and then led them toward the Magnolia Springs
food booth. Her hair was longer, her wardrobe much better than it used to be. He grinned,
remembering a few of her former fashion disasters, swinging from her obsession with
the movie
Clueless
to her love affair with Kurt Cobain. And adult Colby’s body…well, from the way the
suit clung to her curves, she had definitely grown up from the sixteen-year-old he’d
left behind when he went to college. But watching her and her brother walk side by
side, the resemblance between them was obvious.

A pair of skinny arms wrapped around his waist a moment before his daughter’s head
plowed into his stomach. “Way to go, Dad! I knew those suckers didn’t have a chance.”

Jason winked at Gavin and Eric over Emma’s head. “How could I lose with such an amazing
sous-chef?” He placed a kiss atop her ponytail. “I believe it was your idea to add
a homemade stock to the recipe.”

“You can’t shortcut taste,” she said wisely. She stepped out of the embrace and pushed
herself up onto the table. “So, was that really Uncle Cane’s sister?”

Jason glanced back to where he’d last seen them at the booth and winced. Being her
godfather, Cane was always referred to as Emma’s uncle. But somehow hearing the term
of affection now just made what he did seem worse. “Yep, that was Colby.”

She squealed. “And she’s
really
a big-city chef who left her restaurant to come here?” Jason nodded again, and his
aspiring-chef daughter nearly bounced off the table. “That is so cool!”

He couldn’t help laughing at her enthusiasm. And she was right. Despite the stickiness
of the situation, Colby coming back was very good news. Cane had been living under
a mountain of stress being in charge of a thriving restaurant that no longer had a
head chef. He’d gone through several failed hires since their father died two months
ago, all while trying to keep the restaurant running. Having Colby back would ease
the strain and, hopefully, help make Robicheaux’s profitable again.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of his daughter’s head. “I guess that
is pretty cool.”

Emma batted him away with a groaned, “Dad,” then squealed again when they announced
her favorite group, the Joey Thomas Band, was taking the stage. Throwing her arms
around his neck and giving him a peck on the cheek, she muttered another quick, “Congratulations,”
and then ran to the stage.

“If only they could bottle that energy,” he said to himself, watching her make her
way to the front. After ensuring she was safe with a group of friends and standing
in plain sight, Jason turned back to the row of booths. But Cane and Colby had disappeared.

He ran a hand over his face. It was almost funny. The one woman actually to get his
blood pumping again—the first in he didn’t even know how long—and she ended up being
completely off-limits. As far as his luck went, that seemed about right.

It wasn’t
just
that she was Cane’s little sister, although that did pretty much kill it right there.
He could only imagine how that conversation would go.
Hey man, your sister’s hot. Mind if I take her for a spin?
No. Just no.

And it wasn’t
just
that Jason had been there when Colby got her first zit or that he accidently saw
her naked when she was in junior high. It wasn’t even that he was one of the many
people she had left behind so easily all those years ago, or that he knew how much
her desertion affected her family.

The biggest reason Colby was a no-go was Emma.

Jason looked back at the stage. If he’d learned anything from all his recent late-night
reading, it was that his daughter needed a solid female presence in her life. Sure,
his mom did an amazing job, helping as often as she could and keeping her during his
twenty-four-hour shifts. But the best grandparenting in the world couldn’t replace
having a day-to-day woman in the house. A mother she could talk to about boys. Help
her pick out a bra and makeup. And know what the hell a loofah was used for. Jason
had been good with little girl Emma. He could handle cuts and scrapes and training
wheels. But an Emma on the verge of womanhood? A teenager with questions about hormones
and boys and
sex
? That mess scared the crap out of him.

When Ashleigh died four years ago, getting remarried was the last thing on Jason’s
mind. Falling in love again
still
was. His high school sweetheart had been the undisputed love of his life and no woman
could ever replace her. But having a partner, a friend, someone to share his day with
and be a role model for Emma wouldn’t be so bad.

The starry-eyed girl he’d grown up with, though, would never settle for something
like that. She would want more, and
deserved
more, than the loveless, convenient-marriage life he was offering. Even
if
her big brother didn’t kick the shit out of him for thinking it—which he would, so
the point was moot anyway. Jason couldn’t waste his time on flirtation and dating,
and he wasn’t willing to risk his heart again, which left him and his best friend’s
sister at an impasse.

No, regardless of how hot Colby was—and there was no doubt about it, the woman was
smoking—she was definitely off-limits.

Chapter Three

Jason shook his head in disgust as he drove down Main Street. Tall pines and moss-draped
oaks stood on either side of the winding state highway that passed through Magnolia
Springs. Normally, after a long or stressful day, this stretch of road chilled Jason
out. Helped him think clearly and gain perspective. But today, he just felt restless.
His knee bounced up and hit the console.

He told himself he was going to see Cane. Life had been so hectic the past few months
that other than discussing skills from the tactical ninjitsu classes Jason taught
twice a week, they’d barely managed to issue a passing hello. Jason couldn’t remember
the last time he went by Cane’s work for a simple visit. So
that
was why he was headed there now. To catch up, see what was new in his best friend’s
world. It had nothing to do with a certain hot brunette now manning the kitchen.

And if anyone believed
that
, Jason had a mountain chalet down the road to sell him.

Reaching over, he blasted the air-conditioning in his trusty Chevy, fighting against
the already brutal heat. He turned up the radio to drone out his thoughts and tapped
his hand on the steering wheel, singing along to Tim McGraw. The song was about a
dad and his little girl, and the lyrics had him thinking back to his breakfast with
Emma. God, she was growing up so fast. The first year after his wife died, life had
slowed to the pace of Louisiana politics. But lately it was as if things were going
at warp speed, determined to make up for lost time. When she had come to the table
that morning, he’d had to bite his tongue at the swipe of hooker-red lipstick on his
sweet daughter’s lips. But when he caught Emma doodling a heart around a boy’s name,
he’d lost it.

Not one of his finer moments for sure, but when did his tree-climbing daughter start
caring about things like makeup? And who the hell was this Brad kid? Did he know that
her father was trained in hand-to-hand combat? Jason made a mental note-to-self to
let the kid in on that not so little secret just in case.

This was why he was hitting the pavement even though it was his day off. If he hung
out at home, all he’d accomplish would be more worrying. He was no good without a
plan. He needed to be productive. Useful. Busy. That’s why he’d opened up the gym.
With his schedule at the department of twenty-four hours on, forty-eight off, he needed
something else to occupy his time. Plus, the house was too quiet during the day without
Emma’s endless chatter.

But he didn’t have to be at the gym until six, a drawback of hiring such efficient
managers and support staff. So he’d headed to the firehouse, knowing that if he weren’t
there to cook lunch the men would just order pizza. He’d slid the leftover crawfish
étouffée into the well-stocked refrigerator, hung his winning plaque on the wall,
and accepted his share of ribbing and congratulations from his co-workers. Then, he’d
hopped back in the truck and steered it toward Robicheaux’s
.
Where he had known he’d end up all along.

“I’m an idiot.”

Colby was the last thing he should be thinking about right now. She was not the woman
he needed. She’d want more than he could give, her brother would kill him for even
thinking it, and he
should
think of her like a sister. But none of that had stopped him from thinking about
her. Maybe seeing her again at Robicheaux’s, talking with her out in the open now
that he knew who she was, would ease his curiosity.

Throwing his truck into park, Jason took in the family restaurant located in the heart
of the town. It was a renovated Southern home on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain.
Clean white paint and a wrap-around porch surrounded by crepe myrtles and azaleas
welcomed all, but the real draw was the large back porch overlooking the water.

Over the years, it had evolved into a retreat for the community, a place where locals
gathered to uncork a bottle of wine, listen to live music, and watch the sun set over
the lake. Old Mr. Robicheaux would often hang out there with his customers, laughing
and talking until closing time…and often past that. That was why the man’s heart attack
had rocked their small community so much. Robicheaux’s wasn’t just a place to eat.
It was where friends, family, and an occasional straggler would get together to share
life.

Jason looked around the gravel lot. Other than Sherry’s magenta-colored Bug and an
ancient-looking, silver Altima, the place was a ghost town. Not unusual for two thirty
in the afternoon on a Monday, but it did make his appearance all the more obvious.
He also noticed the absence of a certain Harley. Though that didn’t stop him from
marching up to the beveled glass door and tugging it open.

A series of bells
ding
ed overhead. From the back of the restaurant, the youngest Robicheaux came flying,
menus in hand, long stripes of purple tresses streaming behind her.

“Oh,” she said, halting abruptly when she saw who was there. “It’s only you.”

Jason laughed. “Gee, Sher, it’s good to see you, too.”

She smiled and the restlessness in him eased ever so slightly. Sherry was like that,
and despite her decided lack of enthusiasm, it
was
good to see her. To Sherry, life was one nonstop adventure and whenever you spent
longer than a minute in her presence, you found yourself wanting in on it. Jason couldn’t
help but smile, remembering a few of her former antics. His visit may’ve been libido-prompted
by a certain prodigal sister’s return, but he was glad he came.

“You know what I mean,” Sherry said, tossing him a wink. She plopped down at a table
near the bar and pushed out a chair for him to join her. “You’re on the friends and
family plan, so you don’t count as, like, a
real
customer.”

“Awesome.” Jason smirked as he took the offered seat. “’Cause real customers have
to pay.”

Sherry slapped her hand over his with a good-hearted grin. “You’re not
that
close.” She paused a beat and then said, “I kid, I kid. You know your money’s no
good here, Landry.” She shoved his hand away and laughed. “Actually, it’s been too
long since I’ve seen your ugly mug around these parts. What brings you to our humble
establishment? We’re not in violation of any fire codes, are we?”

They both glanced around the empty restaurant and Jason shook his head. “Not that
I’m aware of.”

“Then are you hungry?”

He shrugged. “I can always eat,” he told her truthfully. And if Colby was cooking,
he was definitely curious. “But can’t a guy just drop by to say hello to his friends?”

Sherry propped her chin in her hand. “He can,” she said, her voice taking on her Nancy
Drew tone. That had been her favorite series as a kid, and he used to tease that she
was a junior detective. Present day Sherry narrowed her eyes. “But you haven’t ‘just
dropped by’ in a long time.”

“I know.” He kicked back in his chair and casually glanced around the room. “That’s
why I’m here. Where is everyone?”

It took him a few moments to realize Sherry hadn’t answered—and silence from Sherry
was never a good sign. Jason quickly shifted his attention away from the closed kitchen
door to find her watching him, mouth scrunched, eyes clear and intent.

“Cane doesn’t come in for another half hour,” she said, tapping a painted black nail
against the scarred wooden tabletop.
Click, click, click.
“But then, you would’ve seen his motorcycle wasn’t here.”
Click.
She switched hands, placing her chin in the opposite hand, and tapped the nails of
her free hand in quick succession.
Click, click, click, click.
“Something’s definitely up with you,” she finally decided, falling back into eerie
silence.

Coming there had been a mistake. He should’ve just gone to the gym like he’d planned,
gotten some of his aggression out on the heavy bag before his class started for the
night. Instead, he’d chosen to ignore all semblance of logic, and now he’d awoken
the sleeping matchmaker.

A
bang
and muffled curse erupted from the kitchen. About ten seconds later, Colby stormed
through the pocket door. The dignified linen suit she’d worn at the competition was
gone, replaced by a distressed pair of hip-hugging jeans that showed off her impossibly
long legs. A soft gray T-shirt clung to the curves of her breasts. As she moved, the
generous mounds bounced in rhythm. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, exposing
the ivory slope of her neck. Jason swallowed. Any hope he’d held that yesterday’s
attraction had simply been a symptom of the Louisiana heat was completely decimated.

“Sherry, I swear to God, those take-out containers are going to be the death of me.”
Colby plowed through the room cradling her left hand to her chest, her face a mask
of frustration and pain that disappeared the moment she saw him sitting there. She
glanced at her sister across from him and back again. Her mouth tumbled open. “Oh.
It’s you.”

…

Colby cringed, lowering her hand to her waist.
Way to go, Captain Obvious.
But seriously, what was Jason doing there? She’d literally just been thinking about
him, although that was nothing different from what she’d done ever since yesterday’s
competition. After a sleepless night and an even more distracted morning, she had
hoped the familiarity and busyness of the kitchen would get her mind off the hunky
fireman. But while ladling a bowl of to-go gumbo, Colby’s mind had wandered to the
étouffée she’d sampled the day before. And all the ways she would’ve preferred awarding
Jason for his Best Bite
.

Which, when you’re dealing with steaming Creole stew, flimsy foam containers, and
a chef with a reputation in her family for being less than graceful, wasn’t exactly
the smartest move. So when her visions had morphed into steamy, NC-17 material, and
her thumb jutted through the fragile container, spilling hot gumbo all over her hand,
she really had no one but herself to blame.

Awesome
.

Then to take it up another notch, she’d stormed out like a whiny child only to find
the star of her yummy fantasy sitting in her dining room, dressed in all his civilian
glory. Colby, not unlike every other woman on the planet, was a sucker for a man in
uniform…but Jason wasn’t just any man. The way he filled out a threadbare T-shirt
and wind pants was pretty darn amazing, too.

A grin spread across his tan face as he tipped his chair forward. “You know, you’re
the second woman today to give me that enthusiastic welcome.” He sent Sherry a look
and then gave Colby a wink. “I must be losing my touch.”

Well, hot damn.
If this was Jason losing his touch, she didn’t think she could handle the man fully
on his game.

Colby cleared her throat. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you,” she explained. “Of
course I’m glad you’re here.” Suddenly feeling edgy and not knowing why, she smoothed
back the escaped strands of hair that had fallen from her clip—completely forgetting
about the burn she’d inflicted on her hand. When raw skin brushed against the shell
of her ear, she flinched and bit off another curse.

“Hey, are you all right?”

Before she could respond or attempt to play it off, Jason covered the distance between
them. He gently took her hand in his and frowned at the angry red welt.

“I’m fine,” she told him, hating the breathlessness of her voice and hoping he didn’t
notice. With him standing this close, she could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne.
She could feel the warmth coming off his body. It made her head feel fuzzy. Not helping
her equilibrium at all was the sight of his strong hands cradling hers. Colby drew
a breath, and when the scent of pine hit her, her knees wobbled.

“Really,” she tried again, embarrassed over the attention. “It’s no big deal. I should’ve
been wearing my chef’s jacket.” Her cheeks flushed. “It’s hanging on a hook on the
back of the door. I know better than that. Kitchen burns happen all the time.”

But the kitchen had been so dang hot. As hot as it could get in the desert, the dry
heat had nothing on New Orleans humidity.

Jason pursed his firm lips together. “Even still, we should get this taken care of.”
He led her back behind the bar and put the stopper down in the sink, keeping her hand
gently clasped in his own. As the basin filled with cool water, he sent her a sympathetic
smile. “Where do you keep your first-aid kit?”

At that moment, Colby didn’t think she could form a coherent thought, much less answer
his question. Could the man be any cuter? Thankfully Sherry, who’d up to this point
been content watching their interaction, shot to her feet. “On it.” She jogged back
behind the bar, pulled out a tackle box filled with supplies, and slid it across the
mahogany top. “Here you go, Captain. Stocked to your every detailed specification.”

Jason grinned as he gradually immersed Colby’s hand in the water. Not letting go of
her wrist, he kicked out a waist-high step stool for her to sit on and leaned his
hip against the counter. “Let’s just hold this in here for a few minutes. I know you
probably think it isn’t necessary, but it definitely can’t hurt.”

Colby nodded, still at a loss for words. It had been a long time since she’d let someone
take care of her. She had to admit, it felt good.

The cool water did, too.

Her sister walked back around the bar and resumed her position at the table in front
of them, not even trying to give them any privacy. Not that she should, since for
all Sherry knew, there was no need for them to be alone. Colby met her sister’s amused
gaze. Her purple-stained lips lifted into a mischievous grin.

Crap, am I that obvious?

Colby rolled her eyes and gave a subtle shake of her head. The last thing she needed
was for her baby sister to go all matchmaker on her. Just because Sherry was addicted
to love, she thought everyone else should be, too. Sherry hadn’t become jaded yet;
she had no real reason to be. And Colby sincerely hoped it stayed that way.