Deja Voodoo (A Cajun Magic Novel) (Entangled Suspense) (11 page)

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Authors: Elle James

Tags: #Suspense, #Romance, #romance series, #Elle James, #entangled publishing, #voodoo, #Entangled Suspense

BOOK: Deja Voodoo (A Cajun Magic Novel) (Entangled Suspense)
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His mouth quirked upward on one side and he captured her hand in his. “Feeling sorry for me again?” He shook his head. “Don’t. I can take care of myself.”

“I nearly had a heart attack.” She leaned her forehead against him. “That car coming so fast. You standing in its path.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his shirt. “And then Sport, throwing himself in front of the car.”

Ed stiffened beneath her. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Sport?” She sniffed into his shirt. “Of course I love him, and he loves me. He’s been a part of my life for the past eight years. He helped me through the death of my father. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Was he upset about last night?”

Alex sniffed again and looked up. “Upset? Why?” As his question sank in, her eyes widened. “Oh, you mean about us?”

“Well, yes.” He set her at arm’s length. “If you love him, why did you fool around with me?”

With the truth poised on the tip of her tongue, she hesitated. As good as it felt to have Ed’s arms around her after what she’d witnessed, she couldn’t continue down this path—no matter how wonderfully solid and warm he was against her. Until she resolved her issues with Sport, she couldn’t consider any kind of relationship at all. Long-distance or short-distance. And Ed would be leaving soon. She’d be smart to end it now. Although she hadn’t been too smart lately.

“Sport is very special to me,” she said at last. “He understands me.”

Ed’s arms fell to his sides.

Cold that had nothing to do with the AC unit blasting in the window washed over her.

He backed away until his legs bumped into the couch. “Tell him thank you for saving my life.”

When he turned to walk away, she caught something in his expression that made her chest tighten. Was that hurt in his eyes?

She raised her hand to stop him, then drew it back. It would be best for both of them to stop this craziness before it went any further.

Before he reached the door, he spun back, stalked across the floor, and grabbed her arm, yanking her against his chest. His lips crashed down over hers in a breath-stealing kiss, slanting over her mouth, his tongue diving in to claim hers.

She melted into him, her hands sliding around his neck, urging him closer, though she knew she shouldn’t.

He backed her against the wall and scooped his hands beneath her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist. When his lips left hers, he seared a path down her neck. “Does he make you feel like this?” he asked.

She couldn’t lie. “God, no.” Her body was on fire, blood raging through her veins. A deep, wrenching ache built at her core, spreading outward. She wanted him more than anyone she’d ever wanted in her life.

Then he untangled her legs from his waist and let her legs drop to the ground before he stepped back, his eyes cold. “Think of that when you’re with him.”

Her heart pounding, tears welling in her eyes, she watched Ed leave her house, the screen door slamming closed behind him.

She walked back to her bedroom to find Sport wide-awake and perky.

Calliope sat on the bed with him, a deck of cards laid out across the sheets. “Sport woke up and seems to be feeling fine.” Calliope leaned over and pointed at his cards. “That’s a pair. See? Two queens.”

Alex scrubbed a hand across her face and sank into the chair beside the bed. “Tell me you’re not teaching Sport to play poker.”

“Of course I am. He’s learning fast. He already plays better than you.”

“Great.”

Calliope scooted off the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Ed left.”

“Is he coming back?”

“Probably not.”

“Alex.” Calliope shook her head. “What did you say to him?”

“He thinks I’m in love with Sport.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Because I implied as much.”

Calliope rolled her eyes. “Why do you push men away like that?”

“The timing is not right for me to be in a relationship. I’m finally getting my business off the ground—”

Her friend pressed her fingers to her ears. “
Blah, blah, blah
. You sound like a broken record. You really need to get over yourself and live a little.”

Alex’s cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket, glad, for once, to see her mother’s picture in the display screen. Anything to avoid another lecture from Calliope. “Hello, Mom.”

“Dinner will be at six tonight. Don’t be late.”

“Mom, I can’t make dinner. I have Calliope and Sport at my house.”

Calliope snatched the phone from her. “Mrs. Boyette, Alex can make it to dinner, after all.”

She groaned and reached for the phone, but her friend danced out of reach.

“No, no, don’t worry about us,” she was saying. “I’m taking Sport out for dinner in Morgan City. I’ll take a rain check on that shrimp
é
touff
é
e
, though. You know how I love it. Yes, we should be back in time for the festival. Yes, it was good talking to you, too. Bye now,
cher
.” Calliope clicked the phone off and tossed it back to Alex.

“Thanks a lot.” She nodded toward Sport. “You shouldn’t take Sport out after he was hit by a car earlier today. He needs rest.”

Sport rose from the bed, stretched, and winced, pressing his fingers to the bandage on his face. “Sport okay.” He smiled and winced again. “
Ow
.”

“He’ll feel better after we stop at his favorite barbecue place.” Calliope slipped an arm around Sport’s waist. “Right, Sport?”

“Right. Want barbecue.”

“I’d rather go with you two than to my mother’s house. You know she’s going to throw Ed at me again.”

“Is that so bad?”

“The way he lit out of here? Yes.”

“You have got to learn to loosen up.” Calliope ducked around her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to run to my house and freshen up.” She pointed at Sport. “Stay. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Sport stay.”

After Calliope left, Alex straightened the bed and stacked the deck of cards on the nightstand.

Sport’s gaze followed her around the room. As a dog, that didn’t bother her. As a man, it made her more self-conscious.

“What wrong, Alex?”

“Nothing you would understand, unfortunately.” She sighed, and left the bedroom to straighten the living room. She had to keep moving. Whenever she slowed down, she thought. About Ed.
Damn it
.

“Ed love Alex?”

She spun to face Sport. “Where did you get that idea? From Calliope?”

He shook his head like a dog shakes his coat and sniffed. “Sport smell it.”

“You can smell love?”

Her man-dog nodded. “Alex love Ed.”

Her laugh caught on a sob. “I barely know Ed. I met him two days ago You can’t fall in love in a two days.”

Sport tipped his head. “Why?”

“You just can’t.” She ran past Sport and into her bathroom, where she stripped out of her clothes and ducked beneath the cold spray of her shower, hoping it would shock her back into reality.

All it did was make her wet and cold.

As she toweled dry and slipped into a clean cotton sundress and sandals, Sport’s question echoed in her mind.
Why?

Why can’t you fall in love in a day? At the ripe old age of twenty-nine, had she discovered for the first time that love at first sight actually existed?

Chapter Ten

Ed sat on the porch steps, replacing the spinner with the buzz bait on his fishing line. Joe hadn’t judged him when he’d thrown his first line out in the bayou and immediately snagged a cypress knee.

The older man had untangled the snag and retied his line before casting his own, thus showing him the proper technique. The two mornings he’d been on the bayou had been the most peaceful times he’d ever experienced. Even when an alligator drifted by, he’d been calm, accepting that the bayou might be serene and beautiful, but it held its own dangers. Being aware of his surroundings was key.

When he finished tying the lure, Ed sat back and stared out across the small town of Bayou Miste. Through the late afternoon, residents could be seen stringing lights on their houses and fences, draping colorful beads on the bushes, and hanging garish flags in the yard. A small carnival had moved in the night before and set up in the community park. Carnie music drifted toward him, bringing back memories of the few times his foster families had taken him to the fair in Baton Rouge. He could almost smell the funnel cakes from where he sat.

He’d been cornered by Barbara Boyette an hour ago and coerced into coming to dinner at the Boyette house, yet again. Not looking forward to it, but realizing how much more difficult it would be to say no to the woman, he’d agreed, praying Alex wouldn’t be there. Knowing Barbara Boyette, she would play her hand at matchmaking again.

Ed chuckled.

“Whatcha laughing about?” a tiny voice asked from beside him.

He spun toward the sound and shook his head at the smallest of the Boyette brood, Molly B. “I’m laughing at how funny people can be.”

“What people?”

“Everyone.” He gazed down at the pretty little girl with the dark ringlets hanging down from two ponytails perched high on her head. “How are you today, Miz Molly B.?”

“Fine, thank you,” she responded politely.

“What does the B stand for?”

“Brown,” she answered promptly. Her chest swelled out and she tipped her chin up. “I’m unsinkable.”

“Well, Miz Molly Brown Boyette, what can I do for you today?”

“Mama sent me to get you.” She held out her hand with all the trust of the five-year-old child she was.

Ed wondered how anyone could let their small child wander so far from their own front door with so many pedophiles stalking the streets, looking for their next victim. That had been only one of the reasons he’d never wanted children. That, and the fact that his own childhood had been less than wonderful and he wouldn’t wish that on any kid.

He glanced toward the Boyette house and could see Mrs. Boyette peering through the window. Okay, so Molly B wasn’t alone, but being watched over by a loving mother.

He lifted a hand in greeting and Mrs. Boyette waved back.

“Guess that’s our cue.” He stepped down off the porch, Molly B.’s hand in his. A warm feeling tugged at his heart. Maybe if he’d been inclined to have children, his wife wouldn’t have left him. Hell, he’d heard she already had one baby with her new husband and a second on the way.

Maybe kids weren’t such a bad idea, with the right parents. If he could have kids like Molly B., Teddy, and Rosie, it couldn’t be too bad. They’d kinda grown on him.

Inside, the Boyette house was every bit as chaotic as it had been the night before. Children of all ages and a few of the grown-ups crisscrossed each other’s paths setting the table, icing the glasses, and carrying trays of food into the dining room.

A dozen “Hello, Mr. Marceaus” crossed with a few “Hi, Eds” made him feel welcome and wanted.

Mrs. Boyette backed through the swinging kitchen door, carrying a heaping plate of dirty rice.

“Oh, there you are, Mr. Marceau. We’re so happy you could make it.”

“Here, let me.” He grabbed the heavy platter from her and set it in the middle of the table, marveling at how strong she was. “I’m renting your cottage—you don’t have to feed me, too, you know.”

She laughed. “
Mais
non
. But what’s one more mouth when you have so many? Sit, Mr. Marceau.”

He obeyed the command with a smile. “Yes, ma’am. Please, call me Ed.”

“I do feel as if you’re too young to be called Mr. Marceau. You’re the same age as my son Ben, I believe.”

The family gathered around the table, a few missing from the night before. Ed couldn’t remember which ones, but he counted only fourteen of the siblings.

As if in answer to his unspoken question, Mrs. Boyette said, “Harry and Truman had other plans tonight, Amelia had to head back to New Orleans sooner than expected, and Alex—ah, there she is.” Mrs. Boyette smiled as her oldest daughter stepped into the room.

His hand tightened on the napkin in his lap.

Alex was wearing a dress for the first time since he’d met her, the soft cotton molding to her shapely figure like a glove. Her legs were bare and she had strappy sandals on her feet that displayed her pretty toes with the bright-pink polish he’d admired last night as he’d stripped her bicycle shorts down her legs and—

His groin tightened and he reined in his thoughts. Now was
not
the time to think of Alex naked. Not in a room full of Boyettes. He nodded cordially. “Alex.”

She gave him a cool nod in return. “Mr. Marceau.”

So it was “Mr. Marceau” now. He supposed it was appropriate, given that they weren’t going to see each other anywhere but at her mother’s dinner table.

He’d like to think he choked down the shrimp
é
touff
é
e
and dirty rice Mrs. Boyette had prepared, but it slid right down his throat, despite the heavy tension brewing between him and Alex. “Mrs. Boyette, you could open your own restaurant.” He sat back and patted his belly. “Best
é
touff
é
e
I’ve ever eaten.”

Mrs. Boyette smiled and blushed. “Thank you, but I have ulterior motives. I’m just buttering you up.”

He sat forward. “Need a sink fixed? You got it.”

“Better off hiring a plumber,” Alex muttered.

Her mother scowled at her and shined a smile at him. “As a matter of fact, I do have a favor to ask of you, Ed.”

“Name it.” He’d figure out whatever mechanical puzzle she had for him, just to prove to Alex he was up for the challenge.

“Tonight is the local Crawfish Festival, and I’m too tired to take the children. Would you and Alex be dears and take them?”

A cacophony of cheers rose from the younger Boyettes.

“We’ll help,” Dolley and Madison volunteered, in unison.

“George and I had plans to hit a movie in Morgan City, but we can cancel if you need us to,” Abe offered.

Their mother waved them off. “No need. Between Ed, Alex, Dolley, and Madison, they’ll have it covered. You two go on.”

Ed almost laughed out loud at the stricken expression on Alex’s face. It was that look that made him say, “Alex and I would be happy to help. Wouldn’t we?” He raised his brows in challenge.

Alex’s jaw twitched, but she managed a nod. “We’d love to,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Since that’s settled, you better get going. Molly B. won’t last too long, and she’s been looking forward to going all week. She even saved her allowance for cotton candy.”


Pink
cotton candy,” Molly piped up.

“Then pink cotton candy it will be.” He pushed back from the table and helped carry dishes to the sink.

Alex caught him coming out the swinging door as she was going in. “What are you trying to prove?”

He held the door for her. “Nothing. Your mother has been kind enough to feed me and I want to return the favor.” He leaned close. “Not everything is about you, Ms. Boyette.” He let go of the swinging door and it smacked Alex in the butt.

Her voice carried through the wooden door. “Oh! That man!”

The children gathered in the hallway—Teddy, Rosie, and Molly hopping up and down, too excited to stand still. Woodrow and Susan B. grinned and laughed, but refrained from the exuberance shown by their younger siblings. Paul, Thomas, Edison, and JK waited outside—teenagers, and therefore too cool to be associated with the rest.

Alex counted heads. “There are fourteen of us. Dolley and Madison, you take the teens. Mr. Marceau and I will take the preteens.”

Molly tugged on his finger. “Am I a preteen, Mr. Ed?”

He scooped her up in his arms. “Yes, ma’am, you are.”

“Can I ride piggyback?” she asked, crawling across his arm and onto his back like a monkey.

“I can do better than that.” He hiked her up, settling her legs around his neck, and ducked low as they headed out the door for the four-block walk to the park.

Alex wondered how she’d been conned into spending another evening with the man whose kisses made her forget everything she’d worked so hard to build.

And damned if he didn’t look just right surrounded by the often-overwhelming Boyette family. She would never have guessed he’d grown up a foster child. And damned if he wasn’t the first man who hadn’t run screaming from her raucous gaggle of siblings.

He’d make a great father.

Mon Dieu!
She had to quit thinking that way. It would merely lead to heartache.

Ed was as good as his word, keeping a close eye on the children, attentive to their every need, even taking the boys to the portable potties when they’d had too much soda. He marched Molly over to the stand selling pink cotton candy, and held it for her when she rode the spinning rides.

Teddy and Rosie squealed with delight when Ed made three basketball tosses in a row, winning a pretty purple unicorn, which he promptly handed over to Teddy.

Calliope and Sport found them in front of the shooting stall where Paul, JK, Thomas, and Edison went up against Ed for the grand prize of a toy Daisy BB gun. It took five rounds of games before Ed worked his way up to the grand prize. He insisted on carrying it home to present to their mother for her approval first.

Rosie tapped Ed’s arm and the big man bent down to the boy. When he straightened he headed toward Alex, Rosie beside him. “We’re going to make a quick trip to the bathroom. Can you handle them while we’re gone?”

She nodded, admiring Ed’s trim waist and narrow hips as he walked away. The man made jeans look sexy.

“Nice ass.” Calliope leaned close to her. “And he’s so good with the kids.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, wiping all enthusiasm from her voice, not wanting to encourage Calliope.

Her friend swatted her shoulder. “Don’t be so grumpy. How often do you find a man who fits in with your family?”

Never.
“I have too much going on in my life right now. I can’t even think about this…this…thing.”

“That
thing
is feelings.”

Ed returned with a beaming Rosie running alongside him.

They looked so natural together, smiling and laughing. Alex’s heart squeezed. The man needed a family of his own.

Calliope stood back as Sport watched Ed helping Teddy and Rosie toss rings over the necks of bottles. “He’s perfect for you. Sometimes you have to take a chance.”

“I told him I didn’t want a relationship.” Alex raised her hands. “And I have a man living with me.”

“Speaking of whom.” Calliope turned to Alex. “I’d like to take Sport over to my house. I promised we’d watch the
Homeward Bound
movies together.”

Alex captured Calliope’s hands. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, don’t fall in love with Sport. The spell might not last.”

Calliope cast a soft glance at the man-dog trying his hand at throwing rings. “I’ll do my best, but I’m afraid it’s far too late. Besides, I’ll take all the love I can get, as long as it lasts.”

Her friend had a point. When you had a chance at love, you had to go for it. How did the old saying go?
Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

“I guess Sport can go with you.” Unfortunately, that would leave Alex alone, and being alone wasn’t all that great anymore—not when she’d sampled what being with someone felt like. “What time are you bringing him home?”

“Rather than wake you, he can sleep on my couch.” She raised her hand. “Honest. Just sleep.”

“Okay,” she agreed, reluctantly. Her friend was grabbing for every minute she could spend with the man she was falling in love with, knowing it probably wouldn’t last. Being in love with a man who turned back into a dog was a much bigger hurdle to overcome than being in love with a man who lived in a different city.

So what was her problem?


Throughout the evening at the carnival, Ed remained attentive to the children, not letting them out of his sight for a moment. At the same time, he looked around for unfamiliar faces. The entire time he was at the festival, he felt as if someone was watching him. With the trial date approaching, paranoia was bound to surface—not to mention Leon Primeaux’s hired hit men.

Twice Ed thought he’d seen someone lurking in between tents. One tall man wore a hoodie that obscured his face. Ed never got a close look at him before he turned away and disappeared behind a booth. Molly chose that time to trip and fall. He couldn’t excuse himself and chase after the man without leaving the kids or Alex alone for a few minutes. When he’d taken Rosie to the portable bathrooms between the carnival and the parking lot, he could have sworn they were followed, but when he turned around, no one was behind them.

Alex and Calliope had their backs to him and were talking with two strangers when Ed glanced away from the kids playing games. Both men were big and tall. One wore overalls and a faded T-shirt that had a five-year-old advertisement for the Crawfish Festival.

The other man was a little bigger and wore old army camouflage pants and a ripped black T-shirt with the words
I’m with stupid
written in bold white letters. “She got away from Granny ’bout tirty minutes ago. Cain’t find her nowhere.”

“I haven’t seen FeFe since earlier this afternoon,” Alex was saying.

“Sport and I walked up from my house a few minutes ago and didn’t see her along the way,” Calliope said.

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