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“Not anymore. Our parents are here, you two!” I yelled over the blaring music as I made my way through the crowd. I didn’t see Jack as I headed over to the buffet to fill a bowl full of sumptuous jambalaya. I watched the crew step one by one into the dance circle, taking turns showing off their skills as the rest of them roared in celebration. As far as I could tell, Jack could throw one hell of a party. I caught my parents’ attention and waved a hello as they spoke to some of the crews’ wives as I shoved another heaping mouthful of the spicy but savory food in my mouth. I waved back in greeting as I kept my steady pace, inhaling my fill. Once finished, I refreshed my drink from a two-gallon dispenser filled with the delicious and heavily chilled liquor mix labeled Gata Juice. Stuffed and slightly alcohol soaked, I began to search the crowd for Jack and again came up empty.
A sigh of defeat passed my lips as I began to sway my hips to the music. It really was a sight to behold as I watched people I’d known through the years of my father’s projects celebrate their hard work. The more I saw, the more I knew Jack had made the right call. I’d only wished Dallas and I had come up with idea ourselves.
“Bonjou,” I heard in a whisper in my ear in thick a Cajun drawl. “Ju gettin’ out da car?”
“What?” I said with a chuckle as Jack stayed behind me; we remained slightly hidden in the crowd. Instantly aware of the crisp scent that was now a familiar comfort, I leaned into him.
“Ju hips, beb,” Jack said as he confused the hell out of me. “Ju is gettin’ out da car.”
Realization struck, and though I knew nothing of Cajun, I assumed it was slang for dancing.
“Seriously, getting out of the car?”
“Dat what dis is,” he said in a singsong voice as he placed his hands on my hips and pulled them back hard into him. I gasped as he held me close. “Beb got me tinkin all day, and tinkin got me hard and all needin’.” I closed my eyes and moved my hips back and forth against him. The crowd paid us no mind, aside from one or two wives who shot daggers my way. Apparently, I had robbed them of their eye candy. Not wanting attention drawn our way, I swatted Jack’s hands away but remained desperate for my own look at him.
“Mais now, boo. I seed dem frissons on de skin,” he whispered as I melted. He blew on the goose bumps he’d referred to as my pulse picked up and fire rushed below. He pushed forward with his hips and brushed against me. Hot and willing, I swayed against him, desperate for his hands. “Where put dis?”
A small gasp escaped me when I felt the evident bulge brush against my back. I swallowed hard, a mix of highly amused and completely turned on. “Where exactly did you grow up again?”
“Dem swamps.” He chuckled. “I’ve already given you over half my Cajun lexicon.”
“Ah, so you are trying to impress me?” Suddenly jerked away from the crowd and into the night, I felt less suffocated and rejoiced in the cooler air I inhaled. Jack led me to a neighboring large oak tree next to the tent just as a slower Cajun mix burst through the two large speakers tha
t housed the night’s entertainment.
Pinned to a tree, Jack smiled down at me, and I felt my whole body shift in new awareness.
“I want to dance with you,” he said in a whisper. “Please?” Suddenly, I was in his embrace as he moved in time with the music. I fumbled with my footing as he led me easily, taking great patience until I matched him foot for foot.
Comfortable in our pattern, I looked up to Jack, his eyes crinkled in the corners, a sexy gleam and half-grin to match.
“You love to dance?”
“I do.”
“What is this song?”
“It’s old.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He gripped my hand tighter. “Mais time for dancin’, beb. Jaw close.”
“Well, I understood that,” I said in exasperation as I pushed away, but he pulled us back together chest to chest with a chuckle.
“Just relax, beautiful. Look at me.” And I did. He guided me through our not quite two-step effortlessly as I followed his lead, looking into his eyes. “Better,” he rasped out against my throat before he pulled back to look at me. There was enough light for us to see each other’s faces clearly and I damn near broke our dance when I noticed the look on his. It was full of want, and I wondered if he could see mine. Just as I was about to nervously start spewing words, he leaned in and began to sing in my ear.
“Go roun’, go roun’, lil’ Alice blue gown. We’ll soon be together on the bayou sundown. We’ll jaw jambalaya and sing all night long.
Me and my baby and a Cajun love song.”
His voice was smooth and intoxicating, and I sighed as I placed my forehead on his shoulder, giving in as I let the rest of my day roll off my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I said as the song ended. “This is really—” I looked back at the tent “—something.”
“It’s nothing.”
I looked up to him with a frown. “You could have texted me about this.”
