Chapter 20
20
FOR THE NEXT WEEK, life returned to normal. I hosed bird poop in the mornings and resumed speed walking my regular route. Though I’d braced myself to encounter Micah as I exercised past his house, that didn’t happen. I’d expected him to be waiting on his peach porch, ready to toss a flirty comment my way. But no. Not even his garbage can was out on the wrong day for me to razz him about. An itty-bitty kernel of disappointment wedged in my gut. I’d considered texting him, just to see how his dad was, but hadn’t wanted to appear prying.
Not wanting Micah to have the satisfaction of thinking I purposely avoided him, I’d also gone into the library to pick up Hayley. Though he hadn’t been there, Nellie’s stink eye sure had. I’d reasoned Nellie’s outright dislike of me as the cause of my dampened mood. But on the ride home, Hayley had talked nonstop about the library event planning she and Micah had done before he’d left that day, asking my opinion about a limbo pole. We’d spent the rest of the night chatting and looking up more party ideas.
Sunday had rolled around with no sighting of Micah at church. Maybe he’d gone back to attending at the other ser vice time. That kernel of disappointment festered in my belly the remainder of the day, all night, and into the next morning.
I pulled into my driveway after bringing Hayley and Emma to school and killed the engine. Was Micah avoiding me now? I exited my car and entered the courtyard through the iron gate, the metal squeaking. If he was dodging me, then ... great. I nodded to myself, my steps and heartbeat slowing. That would make our situation easier. For me, it’d be like Micah had never returned. Well, except for him being a listening ear for Hayley. This was ideal. I was having my cake and eating it too. My stomach churned. Rotten tofu cake.
The last thing I’d said to him was a remark about filling up his gas tank and hitting the road. And that was after insisting our only option was friendship. It’d been said in jest, but still. My steps slowed even more. He’d left that Easter crawfish boil without saying good-bye. Samuel had said he’d received a phone call and apologized for leaving abruptly. If it had been an emergency with his dad, wouldn’t he have come and told me? Maybe it’d been Sydney Dupré who’d called. They could’ve gotten back together. I halted next to the crepe myrtle, its tiny leaves budding at the tips of its branches. It’d make sense that Sydney would realize the record-breaking catch she’d released into the water and try to reel him back in.
My mouth popped open. What if I’d been his rebound after all? Or really, half a rebound, considering we hadn’t dated. With my head feeling too heavy for my neck, I continued on, walking past the fountain. No more flirting or secret gifts or playing handsie. A storm cloud of disappointment hovered above me. Despite my efforts, Micah Guidry had gotten into my system. And now I found myself in withdrawal. Complete with a shaky heart and whirling mind. See? This was why I’d been thinking with my brain since Ryan had left me. Why I’d kept my walls up when it came to men.
My gaze shifted to the back stairs of the café. To a shiny silver gift bag waiting on the top step. My breath caught, my fingers tingling around my car keys. Easy, girl . It could be from someone else. After all, last time Micah had used a plain brown bag. This one even had white tissue paper sticking out of it.
Bottling the hope rising in my chest, I set my purse and keys on the porch railing. I reached past the tissue paper, grasping soft material, and pulled out a shirt. A Hawaiian shirt with Twinkies on it. I laughed. With each exhale of amusement, my wild imaginings of Micah boomeranging to Sydney Dupré vanished. Just like that, this ridiculous shirt had injected me with a dopamine hit. A Micah-high I wasn’t sure I wanted to come down from. And all too quickly, truth settled over me. Micah had become important to me. And I didn’t want to only be friends. Pitiful pit bulls.
Movement inside the café snagged my attention. I should head to my office and start my workday. Payroll awaited. As well as examining bank statements, updating the daily business review from the weekend, and later, showing the courtyard for a potential wedding. I’d also be obsessively checking my email for a response on the SBA loan. Instead, I left the bag on the steps and headed to my prayer spot.
Lowering onto the small bench, I pulled in a deep breath of the cypress mulch layering the gardens. “Lord, I need wisdom.” I folded the Hawaiian shirt on my lap. “With Micah and the Vieux Carré Café. And with purchasing a new or used fryer.” I fidgeted with the belt of my navy, A-line dress. “I know you’ve resurrected bodies and restored them. What about industrial kitchen equipment?”
An earsplitting screech pierced the air, and a green parrot swooped toward the café’s steps.
Cést Fou!
The evil creature landed on the gift bag, its wings and tail flapping.
“No!” I jumped to my feet and charged forward, waving Micah’s shirt. “Shoo! Shoo!”
Cést Fou’s massive wings pumped, lifting its body, the silver bag grasped in its talons. Feathers fluttered out with every attempt to flee. I’d heard birds were attracted to shiny objects but hadn’t believed it until now.
“Thief! Thief!” I closed in on him, ready to smack him with the Twinkie top.
He released the bag and flew up to the lowest branch on the live oak, more feathers floating down in his wake. I slung the shirt over my shoulder and ran for the hose. Turning the spigot to full blast, I grabbed the nozzle and darted back. The storage wheel cranked behind me as I tore up to the tree with my water gun a-blazin’. I met the beast’s beady eyes. “‘Say hello to my little friend.’” I squeezed the trigger, the nozzle already set to jet. Water dribbled out. “What?” I glanced back and found a kink in the line.
Channeling Indiana Jones, I whipped the hose, trying to straighten it. “Not today, Cést Fou.” I growled the words, whipping the hose again. Success! Water shot from the nozzle, and I aimed it north, chasing the feathered menace from branch to branch. It swooped over me to the crepe myrtle and back to the oak, then back to the crepe myrtle again. Water rained down on me, but I didn’t care. I was sick of this bird. Sick of cleaning its poop every morning. Sick of thinking of having to clean its poop every morning.
Finally, he arced high in the sky and flew off toward the Mississippi River, a smaller parrot joining him. I released my grip on the nozzle, my arm dropping to my side. Where in the world had that one come from? Was it the same one Mayté had seen? Was that villainous bird putting a gang together?
“Cést Fou!” Mrs. Adélaide’s outraged voice came from behind.
I ducked and jerked around, expecting to hear a gunshot or two.
“He’s still here.” Her empty hands planted on her hips. Thankfully, her little body wallet was strapped across her torso. It appeared she hadn’t found a purse enormous enough to bring her gun.
Thank You, Lord . I let out a huge breath, grateful for not having to deal with a gun-toting Cajun French grandma. “It’s fine, Mrs. Adélaide. I’ve got it under control.” My toes squished in my heels. My favorite red heels. Darn that bird.
Mrs. Adélaide examined me, from my dripping hair to the hem of my soaked dress. Her lips pursed as her penciled-in brows rose above her thick glasses.
I lifted the soggy Twinkie shirt from my shoulder and took in the courtyard. Water dripped from the trees. The assaulted gift bag lay drawn and quartered across the steps. Drenched tissue paper was strewn all about, along with green and white feathers. And there on the ground lay the gas gift card I’d given to Micah. It must’ve been at the bottom of the bag. That sneaky man.
“Take heart, cher .” Mrs. Adélaide’s smooth accent glided over the endearment, but then she shook her fist to where Cést Fou had disappeared. “Dat bird won de battle but not de war.”
Two days later found me once again violating the library’s drop box policy. Using another Ziploc bag, I’d tucked the gas card Micah had returned to me inside it, along with a T-shirt that read Jiujitsu. Because you might run out of ammo.
I hated glitter. And it was everywhere. In every size and color. In the shape of seashells and starfish. And it seemed fitting for this beach-themed library event because, like sand after a trip to the Gulf Coast, I’d no doubt be finding these menacing specks for a long time to come. Micah had shown up with the contraband, insisting it would be a hit with making the leis. The only hit concerning me was my heart knocking against my ribs at the first sight of him in nearly two weeks. That Hayley, who’d stood next to me, would hear the pounding. Thankfully neither of them had noticed. And Micah had been right about the demon dust. The children had been enthralled with the craft project, proudly wearing their creations.
We were in the final stretch of the event, the courtyard resembling a tropical hullabaloo. Before the party had started, Hayley and Emma had toilet papered the lower branches of the oak with colorful streamers. Their laughter had made for a cute video I would cherish. Kids now darted through those hanging decorations, hopped up on Capri-Sun and sand-dollar sugar cookies donated by a bakery. Hawaiian music played through the outdoor speakers, and beach balls randomly sailed through the air. A fake fire pit Micah had put together occupied one side of the space, beside a borrowed limbo pole.
The entire afternoon Micah had kept his distance. Not one single flirty look. No sneaky touches. Nothing. He was honoring my wishes because of Hayley. And it made him even more attractive. Especially with watching the comradery between them grow. Micah Guidry was a Hawaiian shirt–wearing double-edged sword.
“If you sigh any louder, you’re going to bust a lung.” Julia, who’d volunteered again, sat next to me at the arts-and-crafts table. Her lei was a tribute to LSU with purple and yellow foam flowers alternating around her neck. “The kids are thrilled, and the café’s still standing.”
“Both excellent points.”
“Is all your groaning because you’re still battling your feelings for Micah?”
I scoffed. “I’ve got plenty of other issues swirling through my head right now. Scheming ex-fiancés, the future of my business, and that SBA loan. The fact I’m going to have to call my mother at some point.” The luau-themed playlist started over for the millionth time. Pitching forward, I rested my elbows on the table and rubbed my temples. “There’s also my newfound hatred of the ukulele.”
“The first three are doozies I’m already praying about,” Julia said. “But the fourth ... Why don’t you go to your office for some quiet time? I’ll keep an eye on everything.”
I lifted my head and glanced over to Hayley, who was gathering the younger kids for story time. She would read for fifteen minutes and then lead the kiddos in a game of limbo while the preteens took their turn at who could hula-hoop the longest.
“Go on.” Julia fluttered her hand, several flecks of glitter shimmering on her arm.
“I reinstate your title as best friend.”
“When had I lost it?”
I widened my eyes and reduced my voice. “Micah’s background check.”
She shrugged, unabashed, and again motioned for me to skedaddle.
I shut myself into my office and closed the blinds. Despite the melee on the other side of the window, silence ruled in here. Soundproofing was a blessing we’d splurged on during renovations. Claire’s office off the kitchen had gotten the quiet treatment too. I lowered my bottom to my chair and my head to my desk. Fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes I’d think of nothing. Or at least try to think of nothing. Penny and Mayté were here, so the café rested in good hands. Stop! Stop thinking!
A knock sounded on the door.
And there went my alone time. Straightening with a weary grumble, I smoothed my hair. “Come in.”
The door cracked open, revealing Micah’s concerned face.
I pushed to my feet. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He stepped in, closing the door behind him. “Julia said I should check on you.”
“Julia.” I hissed her name and rounded my desk. “You can go back out and inform her that her beignet privileges have been revoked.”
One side of Micah’s mouth curved, a spark lighting in his eyes. “Why don’t I have any privileges?” His voice dropped on the last word, and he eased a step toward me.
Fire spread across my skin at his undertone. My ire at Julia shrunk, right along with the size of my office and the amount of air in the room.
“I did get you that stylish shirt.” He gestured to the Hawaiian Twinkie top a smidge too big for my frame. I’d worn it unbuttoned and classed it up as best I could with a silk camisole and fitted capri pants. He edged closer, that spark in his eyes glinting with something resembling mischief. Maybe even kissing mischief.
No. Say something snappy. Something to press pause on this moment. On a moment that could very well turn into a kiss. You’re not prepared. Your breath isn’t minty fresh. You haven’t made out with anyone in over a decade. What if kissing is done differently nowadays?
He lifted his hand to my face, and I instinctively took a step back. He chuckled. “You have glitter on your cheek.”
“Oh.” Okay. Maybe this wasn’t a kissing moment.
“May I?”
I nodded, keeping my mouth closed, uncertain of my breath, racking my brain for the last thing I’d eaten. A grilled shrimp salad for lunch. Ugh . Shrimp was not the stuff of romance. Wait! A peppermint! Julia had offered me a peppermint not too long ago. Hold up! Had she planned and prepared me for this moment? What a meddling matchmaker!
Carefully, Micah’s index finger wiped my cheek, and he held the renegade speck of glitter up to me. “See?” A sparkly gold starfish dotted the tip of his finger.
“For the record, I did tell you glitter was a bad idea.”
His lips quirked, and his eyes scanned my face. “From where I’m standing, glitter was an excellent idea. There’s another one.” He pointed to my neck, his gaze questioning, silently asking permission.
In answer, I lifted my chin up and to the side, granting him better access.
He shifted closer. With the lightest of touches, his fingertip and thumb slowly brushed the hollow of my throat. Once. Twice.
My knees buckled a hair, and I resisted the urge to close my eyes, to savor the intimacy of this moment. Perhaps glitter wasn’t so bad after all.
“Got it.” His voice was a gravelly rasp. He straightened but didn’t move away.
I stared directly ahead, at his neck, then dipped my gaze to the first button on his shirt and the glimpse of defined chest muscles peeking out. His warm breath fanned against my forehead, slow and steady. My own went in the opposite direction, picking up speed, right along with my pulse. The few inches of space between us charged with energy. We were like one of those lightning balls I’d had as a child. The strikes of light zapping out where it sensed heat and touch. If he found another piece of glitter on me, I would combust.
“Micah?” I whispered.
“Yes?”
I worked to swallow past my dry throat. “You must ... cease and desist.”
A chuckle, low and sexy, vibrated from him. “Cease and desist?”
Tipping my gaze up to meet his, I nodded, the movement only highlighting how close we were. How had I never noticed those flecks of burnt orange in his sage eyes?
With a blink he straightened, defusing the energy charging between us. His brows drew together, sincere regard in his features. “Do you want me to leave?”
I breathed in through my nose, supplying much-needed oxygen to my brain. Did I want him to leave? A resounding no echoed through my mind. My qualms about avoiding more than friendship with him shrank. Here stood a caring man who I liked a lot. And what was the harm of one little kiss? Licking my dry lips, I gave a slow shake of my head, my nerve endings tingling, as though they reached out for him.
A soft smile covered his face as we both closed the gap between us. I edged up in my flats, and he leaned down. And with a tenderness I hadn’t expected, our lips met and held for a breathless moment. His hand cupped my face, his fingers sliding across my jaw, sending a sizzling current along my skin. His other hand moved to my waist. The kiss continued in a perfect, unhurried rhythm. My hands found their way to his chest, his rapid heartbeat below my fingertips belying the control in his gentle movements.
Our breaths mingled with the give and take of affection. My fingers stretched into the back of his soft hair, and a shudder rocked his body. His hand trailed a blaze of heat from my jaw, down my neck, to the edge of my shoulder. Longing unfurled within my core. His mouth left mine, leisurely skimming against my skin to the sensitive spot beneath my ear.
Goldilocks.
He eased back. “Did you say, Goldilocks?” Amusement coated his husky tone.
The romance bubble I’d been in popped. Warmth, having nothing to do with desire, swept across my face. I opened my eyes and found delight in his.
A knock rapped at the door.
With a gasp I startled, releasing my death grip on Micah’s shirt. Gracious . When had that happened? I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, my attention swinging to the door. Hayley. I knew it would be her. A knot looped and tightened in my stomach. Being caught playing seven minutes in heaven was not the way I wanted to talk to her about my interest in Micah.
“Katherine?” My mother’s voice punctured the air.
My lungs exhaled a puff of relief. Never had I thought I’d be thankful to hear her sharp tone. “My mom,” I panic-whispered to Micah as I glimpsed the doorknob. Unlocked. That woman would have no qualms about marching right in. I tamed my locks, straightened my Twinkie shirt. Oh, the Twinkie shirt . That knot in my gut tightened. Mama would have a field day with my ensemble.
She knocked again. “Katherine?”
“Just a moment.” I glanced at Micah.
He hadn’t moved. And neither had the delighted expression on his face. His hair was mussed from my fingers. His Hawaiian shirt too. And he was seconds away from coming under Mama’s cutting scrutiny.
“Can you straighten up?” I motioned to his hair and shirt.
He obliged, a crease puckering between his brows.
Closing my eyes, I took a calming breath, then another, willing the heat in my cheeks to subside. I gave Micah a once-over, sent up a prayer, and opened the door.
Clatter from the bustling café and Mama’s disapproving face greeted me. Her attention momentarily shifted to Micah, and in an instant, her expression smoothed, the Landry Mask sliding into place. That didn’t stop her critical gaze from rak ing over me, from my no-doubt swollen lips to my beige flats. “Katherine, you’ve forgotten your manners.”
I flinched at her scolding and hated myself for it.
Mama’s mauve-colored lips slightly tipped up. Her regard slid from me to Micah, where she began her silent scrutiny of him.
Reluctantly, I retreated a step and motioned to him. “Mama, this is Micah Guidry. Though it’s been a long time, you may remember him from Mawmaw’s Mardi Gras parties.”
She entered, wearing a lavender satin blouse and cream slacks. Her heels struck the wood floor with quick, sharp jabs—like her opinions. She held out her manicured hand to Micah.
He took it. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You as well.”
“We need to return to an event we’re hosting.” I ushered them from my office, closing the door. “I’ll be out in a second,” I said to Micah.
Something akin to disappointment flitted across his features. He tipped his head to my mother. “Ma’am.” And with that, he left us in the hallway.
Mama’s forehead furrowed. “What does he think of Hayley?” Her inflection portrayed Hayley as baggage.
A simmer began in my blood, and I literally clamped my teeth onto my tongue.
“I hope you control yourselves when in her presence. The last thing she needs is thinking sleeping around is okay.”
The simmer turned to a boil. Be calm. Don’t sink to her level. “We’re not sleeping around.” Though technically, he had slept on my couch when I was sick.
Mama sniffed. “What does Hayley think of you dating?”
Dating? Hoo boy . Is that what Micah and I were doing now? I rubbed the Crease. It’s not like I could explain to my mother I wasn’t sure. “She doesn’t know. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention any of this to her.”
Mama’s eyes gleamed.
Holding a neutral reaction, I internally winced at giving her the upper hand. Such a rookie mistake.
She fingered one of her diamond stud earrings. “I won’t tell her, but I want something in exchange.”
I fought a sigh. Of course she would. The woman would’ve made a perfect career politician.
“Stop rubbing between your brows,” she chastised. “You’ll come to dinner next Saturday night. It will be the last Saturday of the month, after all.” And there was the jab about missing March’s dinner.
I lowered my hand, my breaths coming in a little easier. Okay, her request wasn’t horrific.
“Hayley doesn’t have to come.”
Even better.
“But Micah Guidry does.”
Sarah McLachlan.
“Deal?” Her haughty expression resembled a poker player who held four aces.
I sighed, folding my puny pair of deuces. “Deal.” All I could do now was get her out of here lickety-split. The last thing I needed was her catching sight of the function in the courtyard, which hopefully she hadn’t noticed on her way to my office. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Such a pleasant greeting for your mother.” Her attention dipped to my shirt, her face twisting. She reached out and felt the fabric of my top. “Is this a joke?”
I shrugged away from her.
Her brows gave a prissy lift. “We were having lunch with Ryan, and he suggested swinging by.”
My muscles tensed. “Why would you have lunch with my ex-fiancé?”
“We keep in touch.” She straightened the cuff of her sleeve, avoiding eye contact.
They keep in touch? “Come on.” I stepped toward the front of the café, directing her vision away from the rear French doors. “I’ll see you back to your table.” And ponder the fact my parents maintained a relationship with Ryan. The man who’d abandoned me.
“Oh, we don’t have a table.” Her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Ryan brought us through the courtyard entrance.”
Dread rolled through me in one deep-sweeping wave. Like a horror scene switched to slow motion, I turned and glanced through the windows of the French doors. There stood Ryan, next to the fountain, with Daddy.
This wasn’t a coincidence. No way, nohow. Ryan had picked this moment on purpose to bring my parents. The library event being held here was public knowledge. I’d even let Micah put a flyer on the hostess stand. And since Ryan knew my financial situation, he’d have known my most likely source for a loan for the Vieux Carré Café would come from my parents. Who hated disorder and unprofessionalism.
I pushed through the doors and became engulfed in a ukulele solo and the not-so-solo yelps of children darting all around in what appeared to be a game of hula-hoop tag. One of the kids’ hoops goosed Daddy, and he jumped, his face flaming. Ryan tried his best to contain a laugh. The snake.
Hurrying down the stairs, and avoiding collision with one of the hula-hoop hoodlums, I ignored Ryan, focusing on my father. “Hi, Daddy.” I motioned him to the side exit. “Why don’t we go this way?”
He followed me for all of three steps before becoming entangled in the streamers hanging from the tree. He swatted at them as if he’d walked into a spider web.
I glanced back and found Mama trailing us. A beach ball careened her way. She held her designer handbag like a shield, as though she were a gladiator in the Coliseum fending off lions.
I scanned the party for backup and discovered Julia using a first aid kit, tending to a little girl with a scraped knee. Plump tears tumbled down the child’s cheeks. Micah intervened between two preteen boys having a heated argument. Where were their guardians? Had they been the drop-and-dash parents Micah had mentioned earlier? Emma lowered the limbo pole to the cheers of the preschool group. Where had Hayley gone to? And had someone turned the music up?
Mama reached us, pressing a hand to her chest. “Are you running a business or a daycare? I can’t believe this is what you’re doing with this space. With this investment.”
One of the boys Micah spoke to swung at the other kid. Using Mr. Miyagi speed, Micah blocked the punch.
“Rat!” Mama’s bloodcurdling scream punctured the air. “Rat!”
Shrieks erupted, and people darted everywhere, some running for the porch, others lunging for seats like a life-and-death game of musical chairs. Several kids splashed into the fountain for protection.
Mama clutched Daddy’s arm, utilizing him to catapult herself onto a nearby table, knocking cups over, spilling drinks. She pointed wildly to the ground. “There! There!”
I peered toward where she gestured and found Precious, sprinting straight for me, Hayley a few steps behind, holding the dog’s unattached leash.
“Rat!” Mama yelled, clutching Daddy with one hand.
A huge white glob plopped onto Daddy’s shoulder. And another hit the top of his head. He discharged a round of expletives and rushed for the exit, leaving Mama stranded on the table.
I glanced to the tree and spied Cést Fou. Meeting its beady eyes, I made a solemn vow. This. Means. War. My enemy flew off, and my gaze met the face of my other nemesis. My molars ground together, red tinting my vision. Ryan radiated self-satisfaction. Maybe he’d lose that smirk if I swiped the bird poop from Daddy and rubbed it in his face. He slipped his hands behind his back, confidence in his posture. Landry Mask. Landry Mask. Don’t show him your weakness. Turning my back to him, I took in the bedlam before me. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could make this moment any worse.
The back doors to the café swung open, and Mrs. Adélaide shuffled out, toting an enormous purse.