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Authors: Jeanie London
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explanations. She hated explanations. They always made her look weak. And feel weak. How stupid could one person be?
She didn’t like to dwell on the answer.
Lucas wanted to spend time with her. He was talkingabout a week, so explanations really weren’t necessary. She liked him. He liked her. She had the Jude situation under control. So why shouldn’t they have a good time together?
Bree couldn’t think of one good reason.
4
“I’ D LOVE TO GO TO THE ball with you.”
Lucas felt the promise in Bree’s acceptance like a live current through his body. “And spend time together to decide if I’m worthy?”
“That, too.”
“Good. We can start with the krewe.” Slipping his hand around Bree’s elbow, he led her toward the warehouse with a parting glance at the paper littering the river. He wondered what the white envelope had contained to earn a watery grave but didn’t ask. Bree seemed unconcerned about it.
Lucas pegged her as a private woman, the type who could reveal everything and nothing in a glance. She peered up at him from beneath her lashes, those soft, dark eyes holding secrets. This woman distanced herself with those sultry glances and her sharp wit, and no one was more surprised than Lucas to find that distance so intriguing. Even in the daylight he felt goaded to win her responses.
“Watch your step.” He moved aside so Bree could climb the stairs.
She treated him to a quick smile, then took off, ascending with a light step and gifting him with the sight of her backside clad in denim. Her long hair swung jauntily downher back, shiny strands catching and dragging over her sweater, and he found himself admiring the view from her well-worn Timberlands up the sleek terrain of her curvy body.
Informal attire did nothing to minimize the casual glamour of this woman. Sequins or faded jeans—Bree Addison wore them equally with style.
After slipping through the open gate, she moved along the cavernous interior of the warehouse that had been transformed into a den to store the krewe’s parade supplies.
The den might be a new location from the one that had served Krewe du Chaud while Lucas was growing up, but a quick glance proved that many of the floats hadn’t changed.
“Would you look at this? It’s Gator Bait.” He paused to run a hand over the rough surface of the alligator lying in twenty-foot-long pieces of scaly green fiberglass. “You’re running him this year?”
Bree nodded. “He’s number three in the lineup.”
“So he’s got some life left.” Lucas laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised Josie keeps him going.”
“Just a guess, but he’s a favorite of yours?”
“Oh, yeah. This old boy’s been around since I was a kid. He was the first float the krewe had designed by an engineer. We ran car washes and fish fries for a year to raise the money to build him, then barely had enough left over to buy throws for the parade. Before Gator Bait we were making our floats out of cardboard and papier-mâché.”
Bree folded her arms across her chest, drawing his attention from the old alligator to the way her sweater clung to the swell of her breasts. “Sounds pretty grassroots.From where I stood in the crowd, Krewe du Chaud’s parades always looked so crème de la crème.”
“We’re one of the older krewes,” he said. “Haven’t been around quite as long as Endymion or some of the parading organizations like Rex and Bacchus, but we’re old-school. I’m curious to see if your sister’s treasure hunt sparks some new interest in the captain and some new members.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Her treasure hunt has sparked a lot of interest.”
Something in Bree’s tone made Lucas think the interest hadn’t all been good, but before he had a chance to grab onto something in that statement, she said, “First Cupid, now Gator Bait. Did you expect your visit to be a trip down memory lane?”
Josie’s attic had been a trip down memory lane. Standing
She didn’t like to dwell on the answer.
Lucas wanted to spend time with her. He was talkingabout a week, so explanations really weren’t necessary. She liked him. He liked her. She had the Jude situation under control. So why shouldn’t they have a good time together?
Bree couldn’t think of one good reason.
4
“I’ D LOVE TO GO TO THE ball with you.”
Lucas felt the promise in Bree’s acceptance like a live current through his body. “And spend time together to decide if I’m worthy?”
“That, too.”
“Good. We can start with the krewe.” Slipping his hand around Bree’s elbow, he led her toward the warehouse with a parting glance at the paper littering the river. He wondered what the white envelope had contained to earn a watery grave but didn’t ask. Bree seemed unconcerned about it.
Lucas pegged her as a private woman, the type who could reveal everything and nothing in a glance. She peered up at him from beneath her lashes, those soft, dark eyes holding secrets. This woman distanced herself with those sultry glances and her sharp wit, and no one was more surprised than Lucas to find that distance so intriguing. Even in the daylight he felt goaded to win her responses.
“Watch your step.” He moved aside so Bree could climb the stairs.
She treated him to a quick smile, then took off, ascending with a light step and gifting him with the sight of her backside clad in denim. Her long hair swung jauntily downher back, shiny strands catching and dragging over her sweater, and he found himself admiring the view from her well-worn Timberlands up the sleek terrain of her curvy body.
Informal attire did nothing to minimize the casual glamour of this woman. Sequins or faded jeans—Bree Addison wore them equally with style.
After slipping through the open gate, she moved along the cavernous interior of the warehouse that had been transformed into a den to store the krewe’s parade supplies.
The den might be a new location from the one that had served Krewe du Chaud while Lucas was growing up, but a quick glance proved that many of the floats hadn’t changed.
“Would you look at this? It’s Gator Bait.” He paused to run a hand over the rough surface of the alligator lying in twenty-foot-long pieces of scaly green fiberglass. “You’re running him this year?”
Bree nodded. “He’s number three in the lineup.”
“So he’s got some life left.” Lucas laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised Josie keeps him going.”
“Just a guess, but he’s a favorite of yours?”
“Oh, yeah. This old boy’s been around since I was a kid. He was the first float the krewe had designed by an engineer. We ran car washes and fish fries for a year to raise the money to build him, then barely had enough left over to buy throws for the parade. Before Gator Bait we were making our floats out of cardboard and papier-mâché.”
Bree folded her arms across her chest, drawing his attention from the old alligator to the way her sweater clung to the swell of her breasts. “Sounds pretty grassroots.From where I stood in the crowd, Krewe du Chaud’s parades always looked so crème de la crème.”
“We’re one of the older krewes,” he said. “Haven’t been around quite as long as Endymion or some of the parading organizations like Rex and Bacchus, but we’re old-school. I’m curious to see if your sister’s treasure hunt sparks some new interest in the captain and some new members.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Her treasure hunt has sparked a lot of interest.”
Something in Bree’s tone made Lucas think the interest hadn’t all been good, but before he had a chance to grab onto something in that statement, she said, “First Cupid, now Gator Bait. Did you expect your visit to be a trip down memory lane?”
Josie’s attic had been a trip down memory lane. Standing
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