Chapter Three #3
The food on Monique’s plate looked just as appetizing. There were several pieces of golden fried fish and shrimp with sides of macaroni and cheese, cole slaw and cornbread.
“You sure can’t complain about the portion sizes here,” he said as he picked up his fork.
“That’s definitely true. They’re more than generous,” she agreed. She picked up her fork and speared a shrimp. “Since you cook for yourself most nights, you must be a real talented chef.”
Once again, an unexpected small laugh escaped him. “Not hardly,” he replied as she popped the shrimp into her mouth. “Most nights I just fry up a panful of fish, and that’s dinner. What about you?”
“I enjoy cooking most of the time,” she replied. “But only if I’m cooking for somebody.”
“Do you have a specialty?”
“My sisters say I make a good chicken and rice with wine sauce,” she replied.
“That sounds good,” he replied.
For the next few minutes, they fell silent as they focused on eating. However, it wasn’t long before they began to talk again.
They talked about music, and she confessed that she loved to go to the Voodoo Lounge and dance.
He told her he couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced.
Small talk. Jacque had nearly forgotten how to do it, but Monique made it easy.
They moved on from music to her work at the dress shop.
She regaled him with several funny stories about her clients and their clothing choices.
The more they talked, the more uncomfortable he became. He didn’t want to get to know her better. He would help her in her search for her mother’s book, but that was the beginning and the end of it. He didn’t need a new friend, especially not one as attractive as Monique.
“Where are you from, Jacque?” she asked. “I know you aren’t swamp born and raised.”
“Baton Rouge,” he replied.
“What brought you to the swamp?” Her brown eyes were filled with curiosity.
His old friend grief slammed into his chest, and for a moment he struggled to suppress it. He looked down at his plate, his appetite gone. When he looked up at her again, he was back in control.
“I needed a change in my life, and I wanted to go someplace where it would be peaceful. I saw an ad for a shanty for sale. I bought it, and here I am.”
“It’s quite a big change from Baton Rouge to the swamp,” she replied.
“Yeah, it took me a little while to adjust,” he admitted. By that time, they were finished eating. “Do you want dessert?” he asked.
“Oh no, I’m stuffed,” she replied.
“Then shall we go?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
He motioned to Sunny for the bill, and when it came, Monique argued with him about who should pay. He won the battle. Even as they walked out of the café, he was aware of the curious stares that followed after them.
It was a relief to step out into the evening air. “Are we on for tomorrow?” she asked once they were back in his car. “I have the same work schedule as today, so I could be ready to go around two thirty or so.”
“That works for me,” he said despite his reluctance to continue on this crazy quest. She was so certain she had cleared both the mayor and the judge. But either one of them could have her mother’s book locked away in a drawer at their office or in some other place.
The last thing he wanted to do was bring this up to her.
He was afraid she would take even more chances with her life.
He still believed that Mystique had been killed by somebody who was fairly prominent in the town.
He was hoping that law enforcement would identify that person quickly, before Monique got herself into any real trouble.
They were quiet on the ride home. It wasn’t a strained silence but rather a comfortable one. The grief that had momentarily gripped him during dinner was gone, stuffed away deep inside him once again.
He reached the edge of the swamp and parked his car and together they walked in. He followed her up the short bridge to her front door. She unlocked it and then turned back to him.
Twilight colors painted her features in a soft, golden light. For just a minute, his fingers itched to run through the silky-looking strands of her hair. He wanted to stroke her cheek to feel the softness of her skin.
Damn, what the hell was wrong with him? He took a step back from her and frowned. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and then quickly turned on his heels and headed deeper into the swamp to his shanty.
He definitely needed to keep more distance between himself and Monique as they continued her hunt. There was something about her that reminded him of all he had lost.
There was definitely something about her that reminded him he was a healthy, virile man who had been without a woman for a very long time. Would he be this attracted to just any woman who came into his world?
He didn’t think so. It was specific to Monique with her big brown eyes and luxurious hair. It was specific to her because of her warm, beautiful smiles and her insistence that he smile.
Dammit, he should have never agreed to help her. His job was to keep her out of trouble, but he had a feeling, if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get himself in trouble with her.