Lulu's Recipe for Cajun Sass - Sandra Hill Page 0,72

her arms were around his neck and his hands were linked behind her waist, just above her butt. And yes, Mariah, he had touching in mind. Touching Grace.

“I’m flying back to Jersey early tomorrow morning. I need to talk to you,” he said into her hair, which smelled like apples, or was it peaches? Some kind of frickin’ fruit, anyway.

“Uh-huh. I’m listening,” she replied, definitely not listening as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, inadvertently pressing her belly against the crotch of his tights.

Yeah, he was wearing XXX-sized tights. With testosterone-induced hysterical irrelevance, he mused that the guys back in his old gang in Newark would get a kick out of him in latex, unless it were of the prophylactic kind. Or was that spandex? Spandex, latex, whatever! That was beside the point. Call me crazy, but did she just lick my ear?

Blood drained from his head and slam-dunked into sex central. For a second, he thought his knees might give out.

“Not here,” he gurgled. “Let’s go outside for a walk, down by the bayou. Better yet, I’ll take you back to your hotel room.”

“I already checked out. I’ll be staying with Tante Lulu from now on.” She leaned her head back to look at him. “You sound serious.”

“I am serious, babe.” He wondered if she was aware that when she arched back like that it caused his erection to rub against her belly button, which was exposed by her low-riding wench skirt. And that was damn serious.

“You can drive me to the cottage. Let’s go tell Tante Lulu that I’m leaving.”

“So, you’re staying with that Cajun dingbat, huh?” he asked, arm looped over her shoulder as they walked to the other side of the hall, where Tante Lulu was chattering away to some guy in a frock coat and tricorne hat. At least he wasn’t wearing tights.

Louise Rivard, better known as Tante Lulu, was the craziest old woman he’d ever met. But she was a noted traiteur, or folk healer, and Grace had decided to apprentice herself to the fruitcake in hopes of learning more about the healing arts. Really, Grace’s life was like a pendulum swinging from one extreme to the other. Nun to poker player to treasure hunter to healer. He couldn’t wait to see where she landed next, as long as she took him along for the ride.

“Don’t call her a dingbat.” Grace turned slightly and swatted him on the chest, then grinned. “Even if she is a dingbat.”

“Grace...Angel...hope y’all had a good time t’night.” Tante Lulu was dressed as a senior citizen pirate gal. A scary sight, to be sure—she was ninety years old, give or take. No one knew for sure. She eyed them suspiciously when Grace told her she would be leaving with him. Grace was oblivious to that pointed look, which took in his arm on Grace’s shoulder, but he could practically see the matchmaking wheels churning in Tante Lulu’s little brain. “That full moon t’night, she is purty enough to make a cat smooch a hound dog.”

“Huh?” Grace said.

“Welcome to TanteLuluville,” he muttered under his breath, then smiled.

“Ya got a hope chest?” Tante Lulu asked Angel just before they walked away. Tante Lulu had a tradition of making hope chests for the men in her family, or male friends of the family, just before the “thunderbolt of love” hit them.

Hah! He had news for the Louisiana love bug. That thunderbolt had done its business with him a long time ago.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Grace asked, once they were sitting in his rental car back in Tante Lulu’s cottage driveway. She didn’t seem so tipsy anymore.

A full moon allowed him to see Grace’s face. She was concerned. For him.

“I want you to come back with me, sweetheart.” Well, that was laying his cards on the table from the get-go.

She frowned. “Back to your motel room?”

“No. I mean, yeah, that would be great, but I meant, fly back to the East Coast with me in the morning. Come with me and the Jinx team to Germany for our next project.” He gulped. “Just come with me, that’s all.”

“I don’t understand. You know I quit treasure hunting. It was never intended to be more than a one-shot deal for me. I’ve already explained why I’m staying here.” She moved closer and accidentally put a hand on his thigh.

Big mistake, that.

He picked her up by the waist and laid her across his lap, her head