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“Yeah, had something to do with Publishers Clearing House and apparently he didn’t take Granny B seriously. The woman is a menace.”
“But you love her,” he said as she crossed herself and then dug into her meal.
“That’s required, too,” Tess joked, but the warmness in her eyes said differently.
He picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “Oh, mmm.”
“Yeah,” she agreed wiping cocktail sauce from the corner of her mouth. “I forgot how damn good these are.”
Graham couldn’t stop thinking about how good it felt to be home… to be with this cool chick. He really liked her casual openness along with the mystery. Tess was like a box his grandfather once had. On the outside simple, smooth lines but once the key turned, the inside held carvings of exquisite beauty.
And he really wanted to open her.
And do bad things to her.
The waitress delivered the check, and they both reached for it.
Tess grabbed the small purse she’d hung on the back of the chair. “Let’s split, okay?”
“I like to think of myself as a gentleman,” he said, reaching for his wallet.
“How are you not a gentleman? Really, I feel more comfortable splitting the check.”
“But next time I pay, and we do this for real,” he said, surprising himself with the offer. But why not? He’d get her number and when he next came to New Orleans—whether it was in a moving truck or merely to visit his family—he’d call her.
“Deal. Next time we dine, I’ll wear an LBD and heels.”
No clue what LBD was and his face must have given it away.
“Little black dress,” she said.
“In the words of Ron, meow,” he joked.
They smiled at each other, possibility hovering over them.
“Want to have a drink at the Carousel Bar?” she asked.
“It’s not far.”
He thought about his rental car and wondered how safe it was. He’d thankfully purchased rental insurance—this was New Orleans, car theft capital of the South, after all. Then he looked at Tess’s lips. She’d swiped them with lip gloss, and he caught a whiff of strawberry or something similar. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind dessert. “Sure. I’m not ready to go back to my hotel room.”
Hotel room. That sort of sat between them.
This time Tess’s smile held a secret… and a challenge. “So don’t go back. Come with me instead.”
TESSLOOPEDHERPURSESTRAPover her shoulder and wondered if it was a good idea to extend the impromptu date. As the person in charge of scheduling the Mardi Gras float rotations, she had a nine a.m. meeting with the art director of Bacchus regarding the 2016 theme. Plus she had to start on the proposal she’d promised Miles Barrow, the captain of Oedipus, too. But, even though Graham had a kid and felt not so much her normal type, she had this crazy, weird connection with him. She couldn’tnotgo. “Let’s roll.”
They strolled out the door and down Decatur until they reached the street that would take them to the Monteleone Hotel and the infamous bar slowly spinning like a carousel.
Through the windows she could see they weren’t busy. Monday night wasn’t ideal for partying in the Quarter, but New Orleans never felt deserted. The city still moved around them, lights flashing and the streetcars clanking down Canal.
They slid onto stools and ordered cocktails.
“I love this place,” she said, turning to him and trying to decide whether she wanted to take him home. It had been a long time since she had no-strings-attached fun with a hot guy.
“Yeah,” he commented with a self-deprecating smile. “I’m glad we extended the date. Feels as though we’re dancing around—”
“Hooking up?” She smiled, taking a sip of the drink set before her.
