Deja Voodoo (A Cajun Magic Novel) (Entangled Suspense) (12 page)

“
Mais
, if you do, give ol’ Mo a call.” The man backhanded the other guy in the gut. “Come on, Larry.”

Larry stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his mud boots. “Maybe T-Rex done her in, or she got runned over by some
couyon
what ain’t got a lick ’o sense runnin’ ova a pink poodle.”

“Shut jo mout’ ya ol’ coonass. Granny’d be bawlin’ her eyes out iffn’ someting happens to dat danged mutt.”

“Something wrong?” Ed interrupted.

Alex turned to him. “Ed Marceau, this is Maurice Saulnier and Larry Ezelle, friends of ours. They’re looking for Mo’s grandmother’s poodle, FeFe. She went missing a little while ago.”

“She be pink today.” Larry took his hand out of his pocket and shook Ed’s.

Mo shook Ed’s hand next, his brows furrowed. “You de fella fishin’ in the mornin’ with Joe?”

He nodded. “That would be me.”

“Catch anyting?” Mo asked.

“Joe caught a couple of catfish. I’m angling for bass, but no luck so far.”

“Bayou Black’s good for de largemouth bass,” Larry offered.

“Iffn’ you’re inta frog-giggin’, de swamp over by de ol’ trapper shack is chock full of dem. But ya gotta go at night to get de bigguns.”

He tensed. The trapper shack was where they’d hidden the witness. “Do many people go giggin’ at night?”

“Mostly me ’n’ Larry,” Mo said. “But der be some mo’ boats out late at night in de past coupla days. Not sure what dey be after, but dey be movin’ too fast to gig frogs.”

Was someone searching the swamps for something more than frogs and fish? He needed to get out to the shack and make sure Marcus was ready, in case whoever it was meant to hunt stool pigeons, not frogs. He’d have to go later, when no one was around to see him head down the canal. He couldn’t risk being followed.

Mo backhanded Larry in the gut again. “We best be goin’.”

Mo and Larry lumbered off, muttering as they went about pink poodles and alligators.

Molly B. tugged on Ed’s shirt and raised her arms.

He lifted her and laid her head on his shoulder, where she went right to sleep.

“I think it’s time to head home.” Alex patted her sister’s back and gathered the others.

The walk back was a combination of bursts of laughter and tired silence, the night proclaimed great fun by all.

Except for Alex, who looked none too thrilled to be in his company.

…

Alex had tried to be mad at Ed for his earlier parting kiss, and for volunteering them to take the kids to the festival, but couldn’t stay that way. He’d displayed a side of himself that she found hard to resist. A softer, caring side that raised him up several notches in her estimation.

Well, damn.
If he wasn’t from New Orleans and planning on returning there soon, she could fall for a guy like Ed.

As they arrived in front of the Boyette house, Calliope and Sport said their good-byes and continued on to Calliope’s house, hand in hand.

She shook her head, but what could she do? For the time being, Sport was a man.

Once inside, Ed and Alex tucked Molly B. in bed, each pressing a kiss to her smooth forehead. Alex moved down the hallway giving each of her siblings a good-night hug and kiss, working her way back to the front door where she watched as the youngest Boyettes all hugged Ed, and the teens shook his hand.

He bent to return their hugs and laughed at JK’s attempt at a joke.

How did he do it? In two short days, he’d charmed his way into their lives. He even kissed her mother’s cheek and thanked her for letting him take the kids to the festival.

Alex ducked out the front door, intent on making her escape before she fell for the man all over again. She was halfway down the driveway when the front screen door slammed.

“Alex, wait.”

She pretended she hadn’t heard him, ducked her head, and walked faster.

Footsteps sounded behind her, coming fast.

She wasn’t ready to be alone with Ed again. She increased her pace until she was running. A block from her house, he caught up to her, grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“Damn it, Alex. I just wanted to give you this.” He lifted her hand and placed a miniature version of the stuffed unicorn he’d given Teddy into her palm.

Her pulse pounded and her heart squeezed hard in her chest as Alex stared at the stupid purple unicorn. Tears welled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “Damn you.”

“I thought you could use some cheering up since Calliope and Sport took off without you.” He tipped her chin up and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Hey. What’s this?”

“Why do you have to be you?” She flung her arms around his neck, leaned up on her toes, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

His hand slid around her waist and he pulled her against him, drawing away from her mouth to whisper, “I don’t understand you.”

“I don’t understand me, either.” She laughed and kissed him again.

His hands slipped down over her bottom and he lifted her, wrapping her bare legs around him.

“Not here,” she said, and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, then let go to press kisses to his cheek, his ear.

“Your place.” Ed carried her toward her house, refusing to put her down.

“Go around back, I have nosy neighbors who report to my mother.”

Ed crossed a yard and slipped around the house to her back door, where he set her on her feet. She pulled the key from the pocket of her sundress and slid it into the lock. Past caring what she was doing, she shoved the door open and they fell through. All she wanted was to feel.

He grabbed the hem of her dress, ripped it up over her head, and groaned, staring down at her with an expression so hot it made her knees melt.

Then he hooked the thin strap of her string-bikini panties and slid them slowly down her legs, his knuckles skimming her skin all the way to her ankles.

Naked and on fire, she combed her fingers through his thick brown hair and backed up until her bottom bumped into the kitchen dinette table. Then she hoisted herself onto the edge and parted her thighs, already wet and ready for him. “Come here.”

His hands rose to his belt buckle and he hesitated. “What about Sport?”

“We have an understanding.”

“What if I’m not comfortable with that understanding?”

“You’re not staying. Why should you care?”

He stepped between her legs, still fully dressed, his hands cupping her cheeks. “Because, despite what you might think, I do care.” Then he kissed her again, the caress a connection that seared a path all the way to her heart. “I care too damned much.”

“It’s not meant to be anything beyond tonight,” she whispered against his lips.

“Then let’s make tonight count.” His fingers wove through her hair, tugging until her head dropped back, exposing her throat to his lips, his teeth, and his tongue. He branded her with his heat as he pressed his lips to the pulse beating wildly at the base of her throat. He moved to the ridge of her collarbone and downward to capture one puckered nipple between his teeth.

“
Mon Dieu
, I’m on fire.” She reached for his shirt, tugging it up over his head and dropping it to the floor.

He unbuckled his belt and flicked the button to his jeans open.

She ran the zipper down, freed his erection into her palm and guided him to her entrance.

His body stiffened and he held back, the velvety tip of his cock nudging but not entering her. “I have protection in my wallet.”

Alex reached around him, removing his wallet from his back pocket.

He snatched it from her and held it out of her reach. “I’ll do that.”

Shaken by the force with which he’d grabbed for the wallet, her lust cooled. “I only wanted to help.”

“I know.” After a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, he held the wallet away from her, opened it just wide enough to remove a foil package, then slid it into his back pocket. He tore the packet open and rolled the condom down over his cock before curling his fingers around the back of her neck. “Did I tell you how pretty you were in the dress you wore tonight?”

“The one you just threw across the room?” She tried to hold on to her irritation at his handling of the condom, but the way his fingers kneaded the back of her neck, she was quickly becoming putty in his hands.

“You should wear dresses more often. They show off your legs.”

She warmed to his compliment. “It’s not practical to work out in a dress.”

“Shame.” He skimmed her lips with his, sliding his tongue in to stroke the length of hers. “You really have great legs.”

She shrugged off her misgivings as he started the assault on her senses all over, this time taking one breast into his mouth and sucking hard enough that her body responded with an answering tug at her center. She wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting him inside her.

He held back, unlocking her ankles from behind him and dropping to his knees in front of her, kissing her belly and moving lower. His big hands spread her thighs wider, skimming fingers along the sensitive skin, angling closer to that aching place begging for consummation.

She leaned back on her hands, caught in the magic of his touch, eager for what came next as his thumbs parted her folds, exposing her to him.

He flicked her with his tongue, moistening the little bundle of nerves and flesh.

Alex’s breathing grew ragged and her body tensed. “Please.”

He tongued her again, this time in a long, sensuous glide, circling back to do it again. He slid a finger into her channel, then two, then three, swirling around the juices, while his mouth worked that nubbin of intense desire.

“
Mon Dieu!
” Her hips rocked, pressing closer to the wonder of his tongue, his hands, his mouth. “You make me come undone,” she gasped.

He chuckled and rose to his feet. “That was the plan. Now.” He wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing the tip of his cock to her entrance. “Make magic with me.” With one swift thrust, he entered her, sliding all the way in.

She cried out and clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin.

He pulled halfway out. “Am I hurting you?”

“No! Do it again.” Her inner muscles tightened, refusing to release him. “Faster.”

He pumped in and out of her, hard and swift, his face tense as he held her hips.

As the sensations intensified, her legs tightened around him and she flew over the edge in a fire burst. Tingling started at her core and flooded her body, spreading outward all the way to her toes.

He slammed in one more time, his body stiffening as he held her hips, pressing deep inside, the width and depth of him filling her completely. When his hold loosened, he gathered her in his arms. “You are incredible.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Replete, yet exhausted, she leaned into him, her face nestling against his muscular chest. “What is it you didn’t want me to see in your wallet? A picture of an old girlfriend?”

“No.” He tipped her head back and gazed into her eyes, still connected to her in the most intimate way. “There are no other women in my life.” He didn’t say it, but she could swear the words “only you” lingered in the air. With his thumb, he skimmed her bottom lip, then followed it with a gentle kiss.

She sighed, and wrapped her arms around him. “What is it about you that keeps me coming back for more?”

He chuckled. “My magnetic personality?”

Though his words were true, she snorted. “Nah. Must be the incredible sex.”

He leaned back and brushed the hair from her cheek. “What’s next?”

A loud crash saved her from answering as a rock sailed through her kitchen window.

He ducked, dragging her with him, but not fast enough.

The rock clipped her chin and she fell off the table into his arms.

Chapter Eleven

Ed rolled over, covering her body with his until the silence settled over them.

He tilted her face and studied a gash on her chin. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, but what happened?” She pressed her fingers to the wound and felt warm, sticky liquid. “
Mon Dieu
, I’m bleeding.”

“It doesn’t look bad. Just a flesh wound.” Ed’s pulse pounded against his ears and he pushed to his feet in a crouch. “Stay here and stay low. Lock the door behind me.”

Anger sent Ed through the door like a rocket blasting off the launchpad. Based on the trajectory of the rock, whoever had thrown it had been standing in Alex’s backyard. He peered into the darkness, broken only by moonlight filtering through the overhanging trees. Nothing moved but the branches of the trees swaying in the breeze; no silhouette shifted in the gloom, lurking, waiting to pick a fight.

Gun drawn, he ducked low and slipped into the shadows, listening for the sound of footsteps running away. Who the hell would have targeted Alex’s house? Had someone figured out he was part of the detail protecting the Ragsdale woman? Hell, he hadn’t been doing much of a job by jumping Alex’s bones every chance he got.

Granted, the festival had been a great opportunity for strangers to mix and mingle with the locals. If anyone had spotted Marcus and Phyllis at the old shack in the bayou, they might have run off at the mouth without realizing they were giving away the location of a protected witness.

He had enjoyed his time with the Boyette children, all the while keeping an eye open for suspicious strangers. He’d spotted the retiree, Oscar Mills, wandering among the crowd. Alone.

They’d sized each other up from a distance, but moved on.

Other than that one encounter, he hadn’t gotten any vibes from any of the other passersby. But that didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching him, waiting for him to make his next visit to the witness.

He searched through backyards and then headed out to the main road.

Mo and Larry were headed his way, Mo carrying a puff of pink.

Larry raised a hand. “We found FeFe.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ed said.

“She be scarfin’ up hot dogs de kids done dropped at de festival.” Mo shook his head. “Gonna have her one helluva bellyache.”

The pink poodle was nestled in the crook of the man’s arm, listless, her head hanging low.

“Did you two happen to pass anyone on the street a few moments ago?”

Larry and Mo both shook their heads.

Mo shifted the poodle to his other arm. “Dint see no one runnin’ but saw a car take off.”

“Which way was it headed?”

“Toward Morgan City, I be guessin’.” Mo patted the dog. “Better get FeFe home before Granny calls out de National Guard.” The two men went on their way.

After searching a two-block radius from Alex’s cottage, Ed finally admitted defeat. Whoever had thrown the rock had gotten clean away, probably in the car Mo had mentioned, headed for Morgan City.

Two attacks in one day, and the common denominator seemed to be him. The rock would have hit him in the head had he not ducked. He was furious Alex had been hit instead.

The reckless driver on the street today had made a determined attempt to run him over, not Sport. But Sport had taken the brunt of that attack.

Perhaps Alex was right. Their relationship would end badly—but not for the reasons she believed.

With his gun still held in the palm of his hand, he headed back to Alex.

She met him at the back door, pushing it open while holding a dish towel to her chin.

“He got away,” he muttered disgustedly.

“I’m glad.” Dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, she hugged him around the middle. “I was worried you’d be hurt. I bet it was some random teen getting rowdy after the fair.”

He disengaged her arms and made a circle around her kitchen, lowering the blinds over the windows. When he finished, he crossed to her and pulled out a chair at the dinette. “Sit.”

She smiled crookedly at him. “Giving orders now?”

“Damn right.” He softened his words with, “Let me see.” Gently, he pulled the dish towel away from her face and studied the damage the rock had made.

“I think it’ll bruise more than anything.” She smiled up at him. “It just ticks me off that someone broke my window.”

“I’m more worried about you than a damned window.” He carried the towel to the sink and ran clean, cold water over it, returning to dab the blood away. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“In the bathroom cabinet.” She started to rise, but he laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Stay here. I’ll get it.” He hurried into the bathroom and riffled through the well-organized contents of the cabinet until he found a small plastic container with “First Aid” written on the outside.

“It’s not that bad, just a bruise, really,” she called out.

He returned and dabbed antibiotic ointment on the cut, then spread a bandage over it. When he was done, he kissed her lips. “Come on, you can shower while I clean up the glass.”

She frowned. “I can do that.”

“I know the drill. You take care of everybody else, and you’re capable of taking care of yourself.” He lifted her hands and squeezed them. “But this once, let me.” Before she could protest further, he scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom, setting her on her feet with a pat on her behind. “Now go.”

“Will you still be here when I’m done?” she asked.

“I’m staying.” His jaw clenched. “At least until you go to sleep. You really should get a dog.”

“I know.” Her eyes glazed with unshed tears and she turned away.

Hadn’t her mother said something about her having one called Sport? Probably named after the man she lived with. He wondered if the dog had died, or run away, thus the reason for the sudden tears.

After sweeping up the broken glass, he made a pass around the exterior of the cottage and came back in just as she emerged from her bedroom, dressed in the baby-doll nightgown she’d worn the first morning he’d seen her running through Bayou Miste.

Had it only been two days ago?

Her eyelids dropped to half-mast and she smiled. “You can sleep in here.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” If he lay down with her, he’d once again lose focus on why the hell he’d come to town in the first place.

“Really?” She glanced down at her nightgown. “I don’t tempt you in the least?”

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath to slow his pulse and tamp down his libido. “Darlin’, you’d tempt the devil to sell his soul. But it’s best if I don’t get too close to you. There’s only one way that could end.”

She twirled the end of her long, black hair, hanging in loose, damp ringlets around her face. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Go to bed, Alex.”

She huffed and turned, the hem of her nightgown flouncing, revealing a pair of black lace panties.

He groaned and turned his back on her, his hands clenched in fists and shoved into his pockets to keep from reaching out and grabbing her. He strode to the window and peered out on the street where a light shone down from the lampposts at the corner of each block. Nothing moved except the cars and trucks headed away from the festival. Soon even those thinned to a trickle.

After much bed-squeaking and sheet-rustling, the house grew silent.

He crept into her room.

She’d gone to sleep with her back to the door, her arm around the spare pillow, and clutched in her fingers was the little purple unicorn. A frown dimpled her forehead and he wondered what she was dreaming about. Was it him, her attacker, or maybe Sport and Calliope?

She was keeping something from him about Sport. He couldn’t believe for a moment that they had an open relationship. Alex wasn’t the kind of woman who tolerated a mess. Open relationships smelled of disorder.

The bandage on her chin stood out in the dim light shining from the hallway. The more he stared at it, the angrier he grew. After one last trip around the house, securing windows and checking the locks on the doors, he dialed Ben.

“Ed?” a groggy Ben answered. “Anything wrong?”

“I’m not sure.” He paced the kitchen, keeping his voice to a low whisper.

“Talk to me,” Ben’s voice snapped like a whip across the line.

He filled him in on the hit-and-run and the rock through Alex’s window while he’d been there, but skipped the part about the great sex with his sister.

“You’re right to be worried. I wonder if we need to bring our diva in early. Sounds like it could get dangerous for the people of Bayou Miste.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Ed’s chest tightened. The folks around here might end up being collateral damage in an all-out war between Primeaux’s goons and the Louisiana State Police. “I’m headed out to check on our pigeon and make sure everything’s still good out there. I’ll let you know.”

“I think it’s time for me to pay a visit.”

“No,” he said, a little too forcefully. “If anyone links you to the witness, they’ll follow you here.”

“Okay, no visit.”

“Anything on Oscar Mills?” he asked.

“Nothing yet. But then, I’ve been busy at the courthouse. I’ll check in the morning. We’re still on board to bring our witness in day after tomorrow. Wait, that would be tomorrow since it’s already today. Are you and Marcus up to it? Need me to send reinforcements?”

“We can play it by ear today and see what unfolds. If I think it’s risky, I’ll give you a shout.”

“I’m concerned about using my cell phone to talk to you. I might call you on one of those throwaway phones next time I call.”

“Understood.”

Ed hung up and ducked back into Alex’s bedroom.

Time to get serious. The clock was ticking; Leon Primeaux’s trial would begin the following day. If someone was trailing him to get the location of their witness, Phyllis Ragsdale, he had to stay on his toes. No more playing around with the local attractions.

He laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her. “Alex.”

She yawned and stretched, her eyes opening, a smile curving her lips. “Hey.”

“I have to go now, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’d feel better if you went to your mother’s house and stayed there until I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have some things to check on. Please, go to your mother’s house.”

“Okay. But don’t be gone long.” Her hand slipped across his face and she pressed a kiss to his lips.

He wanted to slide under the sheets and pick up where they’d left off on the kitchen table the night before. But he had work to do.

“Walk me to the back door?”

She threw aside the sheet and stood, the baby-doll nightgown swinging around the bottom of her hips, giving him another glimpse of the black lace panties.

He stifled a groan and turned toward the back door, his cock hardening as he walked away, Alex following, her bare feet scuffing the floor softly.

With his hand on the doorknob, he told himself to leave without making a big deal out of it. But when he turned back to her, her sleep-ruffled hair, the soft pout of her lips, and that damned nightgown did him in. How could he resist? He pulled her into his arms and crushed her lips with his in a long, soul-piercing kiss. Then he left, slipping out the back door, praying she’d do as he’d asked and go to the Boyette house as soon as possible.

…

Alex peered around the corner of the kitchen blinds out into the darkness of the wee hours of morning. She would have missed seeing the man had he not slipped from the corner of her house to the shadow of a tree at that exact moment. A flash of fear skittered over her until she recognized the way he moved, and his dark profile was briefly illuminated by the stars.
Ed
.

Why would Ed sneak around like a crook or a spy in the night, rather than walk down the street? The incident of him snatching his wallet from her hands popped up in her mind and she wondered again, what was he hiding? Was he really there on vacation? Sure, he’d been fishing with Joe every morning…but what else was he doing while she was in Morgan City working? Something wasn’t right, and his surreptitious behavior didn’t appear to be the kind meant to keep the neighbors from talking. Not when he carried the kind of gun he did.

Alex smacked a palm to her forehead when she thought of how she’d bought his line about carrying a gun in the bayou because of the alligators. Granted, she’d been surprised on more than one occasion by Maurice Saulnier’s pet alligator, T-Rex. The creature stretched to over eight feet long now. Maurice needed to transfer him to an alligator farm before he hurt someone or ate his grandmother’s poodle.

In the meantime, Alex had a dilemma. She was falling for a guy who probably wasn’t being truthful with her…while she hadn’t been completely honest with him, either. Then again, how did one tell the guy she’d made love to twice that the man living with her was really a dog?

If Madame LeBieu wasn’t going to help her, she’d have to make a run to Baton Rouge and get Lucie to undo the magic that had made Sport a man.

Damn
. Today she had an important meeting. The administrator of the hospital in Morgan City was dropping by to negotiate a contract to provide services to its employees. And it was scheduled for late in the afternoon. That wouldn’t leave time for her to make it to Baton Rouge before rush hour, and would put her back in Bayou Miste later than she liked.

She watched for a while longer, but didn’t catch sight of Ed again, though the shadows near the corner of her house seemed to shift several times. She shivered and crossed her arms. Without Sport in the house as a dog, she didn’t have that same comfort level living alone. And she didn’t own a gun like Ed’s.

She scrounged through her kitchen drawers and unearthed her favorite butcher knife and carried it to her bedroom, laying it on the nightstand before settling beneath the sheets. How much nicer would it have been had Ed stayed. With his arms around her, holding her cocooned against his body, with his gun lying on the nightstand instead of the butcher knife, she’d have slept a whole lot better.

Or not
.

With a groan, she rolled over, tucking the spare pillow against her. It wasn’t a muscular chest by far, but it was better than the emptiness of being totally alone. Ah, hell, who was she kidding?
Nothing
was better than a muscular chest attached to a warm body.