Bayou Born (Fleur de Lis Series) (7 page)

Bitsy took another step back and pulled her along. “Later,” she called over her shoulder, continuing the retreat.

Branna tried to stay upright while she walked mostly backwards. Bitsy still clutched her arm. The woman had to be close to Grandmother Lind’s age. Even had the apple-round cheeks and warm smile of a perfect grandmother. Her shiny gray hair curled into a halo around her head, and a pair of reading glasses hung around her neck.

“Whew! Thank goodness the heat and humidity let up.” Bitsy turned and continued to march her across the yard. “Riggs can be one intense man.”

They stopped by two empty chairs and Bitsy motioned for Branna to sit. “I’ve known Arty for years. He’s not much to look at, but he’s a winning coach.”

“I see.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Oh, yeah, honey. He’s really a marshmallow-moon pie.”

“Good to know.”

“Well, he can get excited, ya know—talking sports—I didn’t want you to ruin your pretty white blouse. He has a tendency to spit.” Bitsy’s mouth curled into an apologetic grin.

“Spit?” Did she really want to know?

“Talking and chewing at the same time when he eats. Not a good thing.”

“I see.” It wasn’t a pleasant picture.

“Grab a plate and get some food. Everyone’s nice.” Bitsy hurried off when the band started up an old country song.

Branna sat. She watched Dr. Brown move Vivian around the dance floor, and then when the band came to the end of the song, Dr. Brown folded Vivian backward into a dip. Even over the music, she heard Vivian’s lilting laugh.

She heard love in the laughter. Sadness pinched her heart. She had never laughed like that with Steven. She never looked at Steven the way Vivian looked at Dr. Brown.

Vivian was a woman in love. Would she ever look at a man like that? Well, certainly not at her boss. As for Vivian and Dr. Brown, their relationship in or out of school wasn’t her business, and she wouldn’t pry. Yet, she envied the ease of company the two shared. Their love.

She came to Lakeview to work. She’d pour all of her energy into her students and take up a new hobby. Maybe pottery. Maybe she’d get a pet. A dog. The one pickup-guy had with him appeared impressively obedient. Yes, she’d investigate a dog.

“I’m back,” Brian said. “How about that dance?” He offered his hand.

“Now?” Brian had no clue that dancing made her squeamish. She’d embarrassed herself in public more than once at the charity ball her mother hosted each year. Folks at home expected sub-par dance moves from her. Often, she was the free entertainment. That wasn’t the impression she wanted her fellow faculty members to have of her. “Maybe later?” she pleaded sheepishly.

“No pressure. I’ll find you before the night is over.” Brian snagged a passing woman and with a tug, both were on the dance floor.

Wanting to be farther from the dancing, she rose and started in the direction she’d originally intended—to the beverage bar. Something in her hands would mask her awkwardness. Maybe Dr. Newbern would show, they would make polite, but brief conversation, and then she could thank her hosts and leave. After living all her life in a small community where everyone knew everyone else, or was related, she’d taken social events for granted. Here, she was a fish out of water.

The crowd had doubled in size since her arrival. As if walking a maze, she wove her way between people, smiling and nodding as she wandered. She finally made it to the bar. No server waited behind the counter as she’d seen before. On the ground, washtubs filled with ice held bottles of soda and water.

She bent to pluck a bottle of water from a tub, when Cole Haan loafers, just like the ones she’d picked out for her bother, stepped up to the other side of the tub. A masculine hand grabbed the bottle she reached for.

“May I get that for you?”

She straightened. “It’s you!”

“From the bookstore.” The man smiled. Her heart melted. He was sexier than she remembered. Before, she had viewed him through rain-drenched glass, now with nothing between them, he appeared in sharp focus, filling the breadth of her vision.

Her face warmed, and she offered her hand, hoping her face hadn’t turned ten shades of red. “I’m Branna Lind.”

The man grinned wider, yet instead of taking her hand, he held his up, as he’d done when glass separated them that afternoon. “Hello Branna Lind. It’s nice to meet you.”

Her face heated more. Was he mocking her? Or teasing?

“That was silly of me...at the bookstore. I don’t know what to say. The storm. Lightning. The exploding tree...” She was babbling. Embarrassment did that to her. Hadn’t she had enough humiliation? “Nice to meet you...”

When he didn’t offer his name, to cover her discomfort, she twisted on the top to open the bottle of water. Soaked in condensation, it slipped through her fingers. He caught it before it hit the ground, opened it, and handed back to her.

“How ’bout a dance? I saw you watching Dr. Brown and Ms. Parker.”

His smile disarmed her. A true deer-in-the-headlights experience. A lock of hair fell across his forehead, same as it had that afternoon. Lacing her fingers around the bottle stopped her from reaching up and running them through his hair.

“Dance?” After the bookstore incident, she couldn’t look any more foolish to him, right? She’d already ruined any opportunity for a great first impression. Did anyone ever make a good second one? A twirl around the floor might be a way to redeem her image, if only she could move both feet without looking at them.

“Yes? Dance?” he asked.

Her brain said, “No. No. No,” but she heard her mouth answer, “Yes.”

“Great.” His eyes twinkled. An energy about him made her wish her dancing skills could outshine any other woman’s at the party. She’d settle for a chance just to spend time with him. Even if it meant dancing. There was something so compelling about him, she couldn’t put into words. The intense pull of attraction baffled her, but heck—she was up for the adventure.

Besides, he still hadn’t mentioned his name. She wouldn’t leave the party without finding it out. “What about your job?” she asked.

“Job? Oh, the bar? Naw, I’m just helping out. It’s Brian’s job tonight. He’ll be back in a moment. Besides, there are only adults here. If they can’t make themselves a drink, then they can do without.” He held out his hand, tilted his head toward the band and the dance floor, then raised his eyebrows, challenging her once more.

“Well...Okay.” What better way to get to know him than to dance? Was it the Italians who said dancing was like making love? That made her want to fan the blush creeping into her face. “Am I allowed to know your name?”

“How about a dance first?”

Flustered, she didn’t know how to refuse. She had no clue who he was, but guessed he had to be a faculty member, otherwise, why would he be there? She took a sip of water, recapped the bottle, then gently grasped his outstretched hand. The quivering sensation that raced through her when their fingers touched made her jerk back. She stared at him.

He looked nothing like redneck-guy from the Victorian.

Was there something in the air in Lakeview, or was it the water?

He reached for her hand and held tight. She couldn’t ignore the thrill of touching him. Just his hand. The rapid pounding of her heart made her thankful the band played loudly, otherwise, she was certain everyone could hear the thudding in her chest. She would never admit to anyone that she bubbled with giddiness as she followed that man, a stranger, to the dance floor. A bold move. Different from the Branna Lind that everyone in Bayou Petite knew. The one that was expected to be totally proper at all times. Which meant never dancing with a stranger. No matter how hot he looked.

On the dance floor, he moved well. She was a poor partner for someone so accomplished. When she missed a step and landed with her heel on his toes, he grimaced, then swung her into another step, one where her heels missed his toes. With her lack of smooth moves, she wouldn’t have thought dancing would be enjoyable, however, unless he faked things really well, the grin on his face said he was having fun, too. When was the last time she’d danced and enjoyed herself, completely unconcerned about appearances? And she had thought fun was overrated. Silly her.

However,
déjà vu
haunted her.

The sexy man in front of her, the Brooks Brothers, country-club-type, with broad shoulders and muscled arms, bore no resemblance to the shaggy-haired, unshaven, pickup dude she’d met while house hunting.

Except...her palms heated with a quivering tingle whenever they met his.

What was up with that?

Chapter 6

James spun Branna again, then dipped her to the shimmer of the drummer’s cymbals as the band wrapped up their set. While they had danced, the world became a cocoon, a world of only two with music. Rapid pulses raced through him each time he touched her. It puzzled him, but the delight could become a powerful addiction.

Did she feel it, too?

The drummer made a final
boom
on the bass drum. Everyone ended their dancing and applauded the band’s performance, then wandered off the dance floor when the band left on a break. The tinny sounds of recorded music flowed through the sound system, a poor second to the live performance.

Flames from Tiki torches staked around the yard licked the night air. Was it his imagination, or did the flickering light add sensuality to the scene? In the west, beyond the torchlight, the last hints of sunlight reflected off scattered high clouds. The humidity had dialed back with the setting sun, and the breeze made the almost-summer evening perfect.

He followed Branna, watching her walk. Her hips swayed. Her jeans hugged the curves of her butt nicely. Her short hair bounced as she stepped in high heels, reminding him of a perky rabbit hopping down a path. A path that led to where? He didn’t care, as long she was in view.

While they danced, her face had glowed, even when she wasn’t smiling. Her strappy sandals, pretty fancy for a backyard party, put her at the right height, fitting her body perfectly to his when they danced close.

Her hazel eyes had remained locked on his while they moved together. His gaze kept wandering to the sweet fullness of her lips...it took all he had not to lower his mouth to hers. Thankfully, when the intensity of the pull almost got the best of him, she managed to step on his toes. Only once did a pointy heel strike a seriously damaging blow. He’d ice his toes later.

His attraction surprised him, but he wouldn’t allow an investigation into the allure. He never played where he worked. Never. A rule that had served him well. Besides, her captivating charms, her “beautiful” vibe, pushed his caution meter into the red zone. He always heeded that warning. Caroline had made him discriminating about his female company. However, he could enjoy any view with Branna in it.
Look, but don’t touch.
The voice in head mocked him. “Yeah, right. Good luck with that.”

“You’re a good dancer,” he said, catching up to her and resting his hand in the small of her back. The urge to touch her, to connect with the pulsing sensation, drew him uncontrollably.

“You’re a good liar.” She smiled.

“How about a bite to eat? I know a good place that serves food.” When she gave him a puzzled expression, he pointed to the food tent.

“Sure.” She nodded, but he suspected she had thought he was offering to take her somewhere else.

All evening he’d been waiting for her to remember. Waiting for that moment of recognition.

Would she give him the cold shoulder then? So far, she hadn’t let on that they’d met before. He’d bet good money that she hadn’t put all the pieces together. She couldn’t possibly be that schooled in politeness. If so, he’d never play poker with her. Usually he could sense a bluff. She showed no signs. The idea that she would laugh and dance with him now, but hadn’t given him even a brief “hello” at their first encounter, made him chuckle.

How would she respond when she finally figured it out?

He, however, remembered her
very
well.

The electrical charge when they first touched...if he was a Christmas tree, he would’ve lit up for the whole town to see.

He should have put the puzzle pieces together sooner, though. After all, how many new Brannas could there be in town? He hadn’t stopped long enough to consider that fact when Dr. Brown gave him the mentoring assignment. He hadn’t asked for Miss Lind’s first name.

Something about her drew him like a starving man to a feast. What if, just for tonight, he could put aside his no-fraternization rule? After all, this wasn’t a date, but a faculty party. Technically, since she was new, their official capacity of mentor/mentee didn’t begin until Monday. What if?

He joined her in the short line at the buffet. As she waited for people before them, she turned to him. “I’m hungry, Mr...”

“Here.” He pointedly ignored her hint at introductions. Instead, he offered her a plate from the remaining stack. It appeared most folks had eaten while he and Branna had danced.

“Thanks, but you still haven’t told me your name. I’m sure it’s not,
Mr. Here
.” She pinned him with a stare.

He winked. “How about we stick with the mystery for a little while longer. I promise, I’m harmless.”

Did her shrug mean surrender? At least for the moment?

Tonight he’d connected the dots from the woman at the Victorian to the one in the bookstore. That woman, a watery image beyond the widow, had looked vulnerable and scared. The antithesis of the woman before him. Who would’ve guessed that when he first met Branna, that day with Meredith, that she’d turn out to be his mentoring assignment for the semester?