His Forever Girl

“Close enough. My parents still live in Old Metairie.”

“I went to Jesuit. You?”

“Country Day.” Whoa, swanky, yet Tess didn’t give off that vibe.

“Class of ’93.”

Tess whipped her head around. Obviously the woman excelled in math. “Then why did you tell Angela you took me to Sadie Hawkins in ’97?”

He laughed. “Because you didn’t look old enough to have gone in 1993.”

“So you thought you looked young enough for 1997?” She laughed again. Her laugh was low and raspy. Another thing he liked about her.

“Touché,” he conceded as they turned on Decatur Street, skirting the edge of the eclectic, high-rent neighborhood. “So where shall we eat?”

“You have a favorite?”

“I have lots of favorites.” And he did. Galatoire’s. Dickie Brennan’s. Elizabeth’s. Irene’s. GW Fins. And on and on and on. “Somewhere with a good po’boy? Haven’t had good Nawlins bread in forever.”

“Central Grocery is closed but we can try Maspero.”

“Let’s go for it.”

She turned her head again and he wondered if she thought he’d meant on some level other than dinner. Maybe he did mean it that way. Things had been so stressful lately with being out of work, depleting his savings and dealing with Monique’s demands he’d pulled out of the dating scene months ago. He hadn’t been to dinner with a woman in a while...not counting his brother’s girlfriend the night before.

What would it hurt?

Tess had nice curves, a good sense of humor and kept baseball stats. Not to mention she’d agreed to go to dinner with a stranger. Many would think her actions dangerous, and maybe to an extent they were, but something about her spontaneity and her self-assurance struck admiration in him. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted, who didn’t shrink from the fray, but waded in bold and in control of herself.

She reminded him of his ex-girlfriend Monique in that way—decisive and thoroughly modern. But that’s where the comparison ended. Tess had a sweetness and honesty Monique lacked. He patted his breast pocket where he usually put his phone. Thinking of Monique reminded him of their daughter—he needed to call Emily before nine o’clock.

As they got closer to Maspero which sat across from Jackson Brewery, almost on the corner of infamous Jackson Square, the crowds thickened. Tourism reigned supreme in New Orleans. Here and there tourists gawked at street performers while others swigged beers in foam cups and eyed the open storefronts selling offensive T-shirts and Mardi Gras beads.

When they arrived at the restaurant, they found a short line. Graham gave the hostess his name and then motioned to the bar with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Abita Amber,” Tess shouted, a warm smile curving her mouth.

That smile made him forget all his troubles. He needed to recapture his previous mood. He’d nailed the interview—he’d read that much in the old man’s face. Graham had been in the zone, dressed to impress with the knowledge to back up his proposals. Everything in New Orleans was falling in place. Including getting his social life on track.

Stop overthinking and walk toward good things in life, Graham.

He paid and went outside, handing the icy beer to Tess, clinking the bottle with his. “To new beginnings.”

“And to your new job.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, lifting the bottle to his lips. In that instant he felt something swell in him he hadn’t felt in so long, not since he’d left New Orleans six years ago. Maybe it was joy. Or freedom. Or both. He wasn’t sure which it was, but he embraced the warmth, that feeling of possibility. All that lay withered inside him revived, swelling to life with sweetness.

After cashing out his 401K last month so Emily could continue going to the Montessori school she’d been attending for the past two years, he needed to feel good about something. To chase hope of a better future and pin it down.

Ten minutes later his name was called and they slid into wooden chairs at a table facing the floor-to-ceiling doors looking out on Toulouse Street. Passersby strolled, collars up against the wind sweeping in with the cool front. A slight draft wafted in but it wasn’t enough to keep them from picking up the menu.

“I already know I’m blowing my diet on a shrimp po’boy,” Tess said licking her lips, a move that heated his blood.

What would she taste like?

Apples?

Or something spicier perhaps?

“And maybe some gumbo, too. Suddenly I’m starving.” She looked up at him.

Yeah. Him, too.

He cleared his throat and tried to tame his desire for her. This wasn’t a date...or maybe it was. He wasn’t sure what they were doing.

“You don’t have to buy my dinner,” Tess said, with a little shake of her head. “This isn’t really a date.”

“It’s not?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. Maybe it is.” She gave a wry twist of her lips. “In all honestly, I don’t know why I said I’d go to dinner with you. You’re a total stranger.”

“It’s not that different than meeting someone from a dating website if you think about it. In fact, it’s almost like an old-fashioned date. Two people meet, they’re attracted to one another, and then they—”

“You’re attracted to me?” she asked. A faint pink bloomed in her cheeks and the refreshingly honest question made him like her even more. And he already had a healthy like for her. “Yeah, that sounded sort of middle-schoolish. Been hanging out with my nephews too much.”

“Actually I thought it was understood I’m attracted to you. Otherwise I’d be sharing stuffed mushrooms and wings with Angela and the girls.”

“Well, good to know. I’m pretty hungry but I’d hate to think this was a mercy date.”

“Far from it,” he said, unable to contain the desire he had for her.

His salacious gaze didn’t put her off. In fact she smiled wider before turning to the waitress.

After they ordered po’boys and a cup of gumbo, a comfortable silence descended. He took the time to study her. Her eyes weren’t really the color of moss so much as the color of a magnolia leaf: rich, fertile green. The freckles weren’t overly pronounced, merely sprinkled across her rounded cheekbones. She had delicate eyebrows and small earlobes from which winked simple solitaire diamonds.

Tess cleared her throat. “So if this is a date, you should tell me more about yourself. I know you went to Jesuit, grew up here and worked for NASA, but what about your...hobbies?”

“Hobbies?”

Tess made a face. “That lame, huh? Guess I have issues with uncomfortable silence.”

“Felt like a comfortable silence to me.”

“Really? Hmm...” She smiled, opening a package of crackers from the bowl on the table. “Sorry. Should have taken Angela up on the appetizers. I’m starving.”

He’d been eyeing the crackers himself, so he mimicked her. “Me, too, but I didn’t want to look like I had no self-control.”

“No sense in standing on ceremony. As my nephews say, YOLO.”

He crooked an eyebrow.

“You Only Live Once,” she clarified.

Perfect reason to ignore the flicker of logic edging in on his good time with Tess. YOLO. He liked that. “Okay, a little about me. I read the newspaper every morning, don’t have a Facebook account, like dogs over cats, have a seven-year-old daughter and I’m a Scorpio.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Somehow I knew that would stand out to you. Yeah, Emily. She’s beautiful, smart and can tie her own shoes. Big accomplishment. She lives here in New Orleans with her mother and I don’t see her often. Another reason I want to move back.”

“Wow, a kid, huh?”

“Deal breaker for you?”

“No, I’ve just never dated a guy with a kid. Not that we’re dating. This is a special circumstance. Or something.”

“Or something. But we’re going with it, right?”

“Definitely. I’m having fun.”

The waitress arrived with their gumbo, and with unspoken agreement they dug in. The gumbo was decent and minutes later both cups were empty.

Graham pushed his bowl to the side. “So tell me about you.”

“Nothing special. Graduated from Carnegie-Mellon in industrial art design, work for my dad’s company and live in a loft in the Warehouse district. I ride a bike to work most days and I do the New York Times crossword puzzle every Sunday even if it takes me until lunch. I don’t have children, pets or a lactose intolerance. Big Italian family, no ties to mafia, though my brother likes to infer it.”

“The priest?”

“No, the surgeon.”

“Accomplished family,” he murmured.

“Exactly what my father expects. I’m the baby of the family and the only girl. I have three older brothers who excel at their careers, but I’m the only one who followed in my father’s footsteps.”

“Three older brothers?” He feigned loosening his collar.

She laughed as the waitress set huge po’boys in front of them. “You don’t have to worry. They’re all my size and busy with families. I see them only at Sunday dinner. Now Granny B, she’s the one you should worry about. She once accosted the mailman for being cheeky.”

“Cheeky?”

“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.”

CHAPTER THREE

TESS LOOPED HER PURSE STRAP over 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 9:00 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’t not go. “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 streetcar making a run 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 sat before her.

“Is that’s what the young kids call it?” His gaze lowered to her lips.

“Oh, please. You’re gorgeous and single—don’t even pretend you don’t take a girl home now and again.”

“Me?” He grinned, with a shake of his head. “I’m just a lowly computer-geek-turned-engineer. My idea of a hot night is Dr. Who and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.”

“Geek?” She snorted, taking in his perfectly tailored suit and frat-boy tie. “Even if you qualified, don’t pretend you haven’t been thinking about getting into my jeans.”

He jerked his gaze to hers. “Into your jeans? I’ve been thinking about how to get you out of your jeans.”

She mocked a shocked expression.

Graham’s eyes widened as if he might have gone too far. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

Tess laughed before pressing one finger to his lips. “Please imply. I’ve been pretty much contemplating the same thing. You without that jacket, tie and no doubt plaid boxers.”

“I’m wearing boxer briefs,” he drawled, his eyes dipping again to her mouth.

“Goodie,” she purred with a flirty smile. “I’m not used to hooking up with a guy when I’m this sober.”

She hoped like hell he didn’t think she was so capricious she’d screw any man who bought her a drink. She wasn’t. She expected at least two drinks. Laughing at herself and the sudden case of nerves, she picked up her martini and took a gulp.

“Is this what we’re doing? Hooking up?”

Tess glanced over at him. She didn’t want to seem too eager. Heck, she still wasn’t sure if hooking up with Graham was a good idea. It had only been at Christmas she’d dumped Nick. Maybe she needed to give herself some time...or maybe she needed to have a nice little rebound fling.

Or maybe this was neither of those two things. Maybe this was something more than just fun. Felt that way. Felt like magic. Felt like Graham was her perfect match. “Maybe.”

Graham watched her, his Nordic eyes sliding down and dipping briefly at her neckline. “I’ve wanted you since you told me Feliz was pitching for the Rangers tonight. I think we’d be fantastic together.”

Tess leaned toward him. “Wanna find out?”

His lips looked soft. She’d never thought such a thing about a man before, but at that moment she wanted to feel them on hers. Why not see if the tension between them was as electric as she suspected? Why waste time wondering what they could know in seconds?

Graham set down his drink and leaned close to her, pushing an errant strand of hair from the corner of her mouth. “You talking a little chemistry experiment?”

Her breath quickened and her eyes dropped to his mouth. “No sense in taking this any further if we’re not...compatible.”

Lightly he brushed her lips with his and she caught his taste. Yeasty and warm with beer. Her pulse sped at the first touch, and she leaned in for more.

But Graham was a tease.

He dotted little kisses along her jaw, making her stomach flutter with excitement.

“Oh,” she breathed, the warmth spreading as he moved steadily back toward her mouth.

But then he decided to stop teasing and covered her mouth with his, sliding a hand around her neck to clasp the back of her head, tilting her so he could gain better access.

Like rain on the parched earth, Tess welcomed the onslaught of desire. She opened her mouth, only slightly, her tongue flitting out to taste him, evocative and flirty, but Graham tasted rich as expensive wine or fine chocolate. Addictive.

He responded to her invitation and hot desire slammed into her like a midnight train eating up track when his fingers stroked the nape of her neck and his tongue stroked hers.

Tess didn’t want to stop, but she did.

Because if she didn’t stop now, she might not be able to. Because if she didn’t stop now, she might straddle him right there on a stool in the Carousel Bar.

Wouldn’t be the first time, but nothing had ever come of any guy she’d hooked up with randomly...and for some reason she didn’t want Graham to go down as a guy she’d never meet again. She wanted to wear a little black dress and killer heels she didn’t need but had to have because they made her legs look long and lean. She wanted moonlight and champagne...or at least a really good pinot grigio. She didn’t want just a one-night stand with Graham.

And that surprised her.

Pulling back, she whispered, “I think I got my answer. You?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely going to need your number.” He touched a finger to her nose in a move that should have been corny but was anything but.

“So you want to walk me home?” Her voice was thick...almost seductive, so she cleared her throat.

“Some water,” the bartender said, setting down two icy glasses in front of them. “So I ain’t gotta call the fire department.”

She picked up the glass and toasted the bartender who winked at her before moving on to a guy waving a twenty on the other side.

“He has a point. We can’t do that again without charging people admission,” Graham said, looking as if the kiss had shaken him down to his wing tips. His smiled at her and picked up his water, a tinge of awe in those blue eyes.

And like a hit of smack, he made her suddenly crave more of him. She wanted to inhale him, taste every square inch and lose herself in something primal and good and irresponsible.

Maybe meeting Graham at Two Legs was a moment-in-time thing. What if there would never be a black dress, nice dinner and moonlight? What if Graham didn’t get the job? Never walked back into her world again?

Would she regret the missed chance to immerse herself in him?

Yeah, she would. So...

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

He gulped down the ice water, his strong throat moving as he swallowed. She wanted to kiss him there. Where the pulse beat in his neck, right above the loosened tie. “Tomorrow morning.”

Indecision.

She hated when she felt this way. Hot and fast? Or slow and...?

“You want another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her half-finished pomegranate martini.

“Not really.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed. Grabbing the hand she’d tucked in her lap, he cradled it. Stroking her inner wrist, he contemplated his empty glass. She could tell he didn’t want the evening to end...and neither did she.

“Pay for the drinks, Graham,” she said.

Hooking an eyebrow, Graham turned to her.

“Unless you don’t want me to see you in those boxer briefs?”

Like magic, his wallet appeared. Tossing enough cash to cover the drinks and tip on the bar, he pulled her to her feet. “You sure?”

Tess slid her hand up his lapel, cupping his jaw and dropping a light kiss on his lips. “We’re not going to overthink this.”

He pulled her toward the door. “Cab?”

“My place isn’t far. Let’s walk.”

“Or run.” He spun her into his arms, pressing her against the rough brick, not caring a homeless man slept in the alcove a few yards away.

Tess tugged his head down, her mouth eagerly meeting his. This time she wasn’t stingy with opening her mouth and it inflamed her even more. He pressed himself against her, sliding his hands down to her hips in order to pull her against his erection. Warmth turned to frenzied fire.

“Oh,” she breathed, her hands knotting in his short wavy hair. “Maybe we better hurry.”

He smiled against her.

“Yeah, y’all should,” the old bum squawked. “Unless you want a little company.”

“No, thanks,” Graham called, wrapping an arm around Tess and pulling a five out of his pocket and dropping it in the man’s tipped-up hat. “Something for you, sir.”

“Not as good as what you’re about to get, brother,” the man cracked.

“True,” Graham called out over his shoulder, not slowing up as they crossed Canal Street. Several blocks later she pulled her keys from her purse, struggling to keep her hands from shaking. Right before she pushed through the front entrance of the building, Graham caught her elbow. “You sure?”

She looked up, surprised he’d try to stop now. “You trying to talk me out of having hot, uncontrollable, slightly dirty sex with you?”

He swallowed, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “That’s what’s on the menu?”

“It’ll be better than the stuffed mushrooms you turned down. I promise.” She held the door open with no regret.

“I like your confidence.”

* * *

GRAHAM ROLLED OVER and glanced at Tess asleep in the moonlight. Long lashes lay against her upper cheeks. The smattering of freckles were more pronounced against her luminous skin. Wild locks of dark gold mixed with light brown caught in the light. She looked so innocent.

And not so much like the hellcat who had pinned him down, taken control and brought him the most excruciatingly pleasurable orgasm he’d ever experienced.

And it wasn’t just the skill Tess possessed in bed, it was the passion she plied it with. She’d taken his breath away as she made love to him with both reckless abandon and deliberate focus. Her girl-next-door vibe hid a consummate lover.

Thank God he’d invited her to dinner.

She’d fit him perfectly. The projections and reliefs of her body meeting his in such a way he’d felt like a jigsaw puzzle finally completed. Sounded hokey, but he felt that way. He’d never met someone like Tess—a woman he’d had an immediate connection with. Walking into her world felt like a fate thing.

“Mmm,” she groaned snuggling against his body, her lovely breasts brushing his chest as she wound an arm around his lower stomach. “That was soooo good.”

“Beyond good,” he said, pushing a hank of hair from her face.

She opened those gorgeous eyes and blinked sleepily up at him. “I fell asleep. Sorry.”

“Why?” he whispered, sliding a hand down to cup her bottom. She arched against him, sliding a leg over his, fitting herself to him and giving him better access.

“I don’t want to sleep tonight. I want to make love all night. That was an appetizer. Remember?”

“Right.” He pulled her atop him, sighing as she allowed her legs to fall to either side of his hips. With her breasts plumped against his chest and her smiling eyes studying him, he almost believed he could fall in love with a woman in less than twenty-four hours.

Lifting his hips, he teased her with his stirring erection. “Ah, Tess, you might kill me tonight.”

“Then we’ll die happy.” She lowered her mouth to his, dropping tiny kisses against his lips. “I don’t want morning to come. Let me have these hours.”

He cupped her ass and moved her against him. He wanted to be inside her again. But not yet. Not until he tasted every inch of her. Not until he made her shudder and arch against him. Not until she screamed his name, grabbed the sheets and lost every ounce of sanity she possessed.

He might be a geeky engineer, but he was a determined geeky engineer who prided himself on his attention to detail...and he was about to get it so right with Tess.

Flipping her, he pulled himself back, staring at her in the faint light before dropping his head and tugging her nipple into his mouth. He glanced up as she sighed and closed her eyes. Minutes later after making her writhe beneath him, he slid down her soft belly. “Your appetizer was good, baby.”