Read Online Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou by Nancy K. Duplechain - Free Book Online

in forever!” she said, as she planted me in the center of the circle.
     
    “Exactly!” I groaned. “It’s been so long I don’t remember how to anymore.”
     
    “Bull! It’s in your blood, so start dancing, girly!”
     
    She started to dance. I didn’t budge. She picked up my hands and started swinging my arms in beat to the rhythm of Keith Frank’s accordion. I reluctantly started to get into the dance. Before I knew it, she had me in a full-on Cajun jitterbug. Despite myself, I started to really enjoy it. I only stepped on her feet a couple of times, but she didn’t care. No one cared. Everyone was having a great time and now I was, too.
     
    Before the song was finished, a cute guy wearing a New Orleans Saints cap cut in, taking Carrie away from me. I was prepared to sit out the rest of the dance, but Lucas quickly stepped in and really started to cut a rug with me. He held my waist and hand with the firmness of a man who knows how to move with a woman on the dance floor. He twirled me. I twirled him. Our hands were together and our faces close, bodies barely touching. He looked into my eyes again and the attraction I felt earlier intensified. And with an inner sigh, a little comfort and a great humility, I realized that I was home.

5
     
    Strange Happenings
     
    A fter the party, Lucas and I stayed behind to help Carrie clean up. Lucas and I handled the trash, while Carrie loaded the dishwasher and put away the leftovers. We got everything done in less than an hour. By then, it was after nine o’clock and Carrie had to get to bed. She worked the front desk at the Lafayette Hilton, and a co-worker called in sick for the morning shift. I was sorry to see the night end. I was having more fun than I’d had in years. Lucas didn’t want it to end, either. He invited me out for a drink, and I happily accepted. Besides, the only drink I had was the one Billy Joe gave me. Same went for Lucas. I could tell he was careful to hold his liquor all night. I never saw him so responsible before.
     
    I followed his 1992 blue Chevy pickup all the way to Snook’s Bar. I couldn’t believe he still had that truck. It was old when he drove it to pick me up for my junior cotillion and that was almost ten years ago. I had to hand it to Lucas. He wasn’t one for putting on airs. It was refreshing to see such practicality after living in L.A. for so long, where status symbols are valued over common sense.
     
    We pulled into the little hole-in-the-wall that was Snook’s, located on the lower west side of Lafayette. I remembered Snook’s well. It was a bar Carrie and I used to frequent when we would get tired of the club scene and, like most local establishments, they were lax about checking IDs. It had a gravel parking lot and neon signs in the windows, advertising popular beer brands. I parked right behind Lucas’ truck and, as I turned off the ignition, he opened my door for me. This would take some getting used to. He helped me out and closed the door behind me.
     
    We went into Snook’s, where he again held the door for me. Once inside, he bought me a beer and got one for himself, and then we found a booth in the corner. Willie Nelson’s, “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,” was playing on the old jukebox against the back wall. We sat in silence for awhile, sipping our beer and people-watching. There were a pair of pool tables, and I was soon mesmerized by the clacking of the balls as they crashed into each other.
     
    “Do you think you’re back for good?” His words startled me, breaking my concentration on the billiards game a few feet from us. I looked at him and smiled a little sadly. At Carrie’s, it was nothing but small talk and a lot of reminiscing with everyone. I wasn’t prepared for anything deeper.
     
    “I don’t think so,” I said.
     
    He nodded and sipped from his beer. We were quiet again. I took the opportunity to change the subject. “What time do you have to be back for