No Time like Mardi Gras

“Here, hold my hand.”

The instruction startled her, and she looked up at him. Colin grinned as he held out his hand. He had a great smile that caused little crinkles at the corners of bright blue eyes. A shock of dark hair—just long enough to curl around his ears, as if he was a few weeks late for a haircut—was held back from his face by the sunglasses perched on his head.

Goodness, he was just damn pretty.

But that didn’t mean she was going to hold hands.

The sentiment must have showed on her face, because Colin laughed as he cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not trying to get fresh. I just don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

It was a fair enough statement, but before she could reply, he flashed her another lady-killer grin. “Either that, or you could just stick your hands in my back pockets.”

Without thinking, her eyes flicked down to the pockets in question, and damn, did he have to have a cute butt, too? That was tempting. Way too tempting.

For safety’s sake, his first idea was probably the best one.

Jamie put her hand in his and Colin’s fingers threaded through hers, bringing them palm to palm. His hands were warm, the grip firm but not painful, and there was one brief ridiculous moment where she was sure her skin tingled like the heroine’s in some romance novel.

She almost wished he would get fresh.

No!

But he’s so cute.

Down, girl. Have we learned nothing?

She had. And the lesson had been painful enough to ensure she wouldn’t forget it.

She continued to tell herself that as she was hauled up against Colin’s side, their clasped hands pressed against his chest as he maneuvered through the crowd. Jamie just did her best to keep up.

Colin finally stopped near a streetlamp. “This should be good. Rex will come this way, but the trucks turn the other way up Canal, so to see them, you’ll have to go up a few blocks.”

Although crowds lined the barriers on both sides of the street, there was no sign of a parade. “So where is it?”

“Ah, timing can be a tricky thing. You never really know how long it will take for the parade to get to a specific spot. There are delays, the floats break down, you name it. But this—” he gestured to the crowd around them “—is part of the experience, too.”

“So we wait?”

“We wait. Do you want a drink or anything?” When she shook her head, Colin sat and leaned back against the lamppost.

Although there was no telling how nasty the sidewalk might be, Jamie sat as well. She felt a little awkward now, this good idea faltering a bit as she tried to decide how to make small talk with a stranger—regardless of how pretty he might be. One thing she’d never been very good at was cocktail party chitchat.

Thankfully, though, Colin didn’t seem to have the same problem. “Is this your first time in New Orleans?”

“No.” She’d been down here a few years ago with Joey for a game before he’d moved up to the majors. Before everything had gotten crazy and gone to hell. But there was no way she was going to mention that. “It was a very short trip, though, on business with my boyfriend, so I didn’t have much time to explore.”

That eyebrow went up again. “Boyfriend?”

“Ex,” she clarified.

Colin winked at her. “That’s good to know.”

Was that flirting or just charm? It was so hard to tell. She’d been out of the game for so long she didn’t remember how to play. And she certainly didn’t know how to respond. Joey had been the jealous type—possessive, actually, she amended with hindsight—so her flirting skills were rusty from disuse. Maybe she should delay even easing back into this.

Colin stretched long, tanned legs out and got comfortable. “So, where’s home?”

Oh, it was going to be tough, though.

“South Carolina,” she answered automatically, dragging her attention from those nice calf muscles. As he nodded, she realized that she’d just led Colin to believe that she was only in New Orleans for a short visit. Still, the statement wasn’t entirely false. South Carolina was home, even if she didn’t live there anymore and hadn’t for a while. She’d followed Joey to five different cities and they’d never felt like home, and while she was here now, New Orleans didn’t feel like home yet, either. So it wasn’t entirely a false statement, and considering the circumstances, it probably wasn’t a bad thing to let Colin keep that misunderstanding for now. She didn’t trust herself not to flirt herself right into trouble accidentally. And since he could be an ax murderer for all she really knew, some vagueness about her living situation was probably wise. “And you?”

“Born and raised right here in New Orleans.”

“A real ragin’ Cajun, huh?”

His mouth twisted as if something was funny. “Something like that.”

Oh, she just needed to slap a warning label right across his forehead. A good-looking, charming, self-professed ragin’ Cajun bartender who just happened to have no plans on Fat Tuesday other than to escort a woman around... Oh, the dangers were piling up, and Jamie knew she should just cut and run. But, oh... She could feel her libido crank its engine. Talk about her own personal Kryptonite. It was what had attracted her to Joey in the first place—a slightly rough-around-the-edges underdog with a big dream and charm to spare.

Really? This is how you’re going to start out?

It had been her downfall before; it would be stupid to repeat the experience.

But maybe just for today?

How much trouble could she get into, really? It wouldn’t be anything serious, just one day to enjoy herself before the new life kicked in. It made sense—Mardi Gras was supposed to be the big decadent party before the austerity of Lent. One last day before life got real again. Hell, she couldn’t even assume he’d stick around longer than this parade anyway. They were talking about an hour or so, max. What harm could really come of it?

It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, she had a cute, seemingly nice enough guy to talk to, and she was in the middle of a crowd that just wanted to have a good time. She felt free, powerful, in charge of her own life again.

She really couldn’t ask for more, could she?

She deserved a break. After everything she’d dealt with—the pain, the shame, the complete destruction of her life—she’d earned this Fat Tuesday and all the decadent fun it could bring her.

She could have today, by God.

The noise level had been increasing steadily, and now music floated over the top of the roar. It kept her from having to respond.

Colin pushed to his feet. “Here it comes.” He extended a hand to help her up. She was still justifying everything to herself as Colin hauled her up and stationed himself behind her as the crowd pushed forward toward the street and the barricades.

His chest was broad and hard against her back, and one hand came to rest easily and naturally on her hip as he leaned forward to tell her something. He was wearing shorts, like she was, and she could feel the hair on his legs tickling her calves and thighs. She totally missed whatever it was he was trying to say.

“What?”

“Don’t reach down if anything hits the ground. You’ll get your hands stomped.”

What the hell were they throwing off these floats? Diamonds? She twisted around to look at him. “Over cheap plastic beads?”

“Yep.”

“Seriously?”

Colin laughed, patting her hip as he did. It left a nice residual tingle. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. Look, there’s Rex.”

Jamie strained up on tiptoe, craning her neck to see. Wow. She’d heard these parades were amazing, and she’d expected something really cool, but this.... A massive gilded throne, ornate costumes with feathers and men on horseback in matching courtier outfits with satin pantaloons...just wow.

She jumped up and down to get a better view, accidentally bumping against Colin’s chin in the process.

“Can you not see?” he asked. She shook her head and tried to use his shoulder as a boost when she jumped this time. A second later, she felt hands on her legs and the whisper of hair against her thighs. She jumped for real this time.

Colin was crouched behind her. “Come on. Climb up.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, and she felt the broad base of his shoulders pressing against the backs of her thighs as Colin’s head dipped between her knees. Then she was up over the crowd—with an amazing view of the parade—with Colin holding her as though she weighed nothing at all. He shrugged to get her settled, and she quickly wrapped her legs behind his back to anchor herself.

“Better?” he shouted up.

She was still reeling from the fact his head was now between her thighs and a rather personal bit of her anatomy was now pressed against the nape of his neck. Funny how she’d never noticed the inappropriateness of this position until just now. “Yeah,” she answered, but it sounded a little weak even to her own ears. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy?”

“Oh, please. I can barely tell you’re up there.”

“Now what do I do?”

Colin tilted his head way back, nearly sending her toppling over before she corrected by leaning forward, and grinned at her again. “Catch whatever comes your way. And no matter what you’ve seen on TV, don’t flash the riders for beads,” he cautioned. “You’ll get us both arrested.”

“Flash them—?” she began, but she was cut off when something hit her right in the face.

She caught it reflexively and a strand of green-and-gold beads dangled from her fingers.

“Good job,” Colin said, patting her knee. “Now put them on.” She looped them over her head as a shower of beads began to rain down from the floats.

Colin caught a few, but for the most part, he kept his arms locked around her legs to keep her stable as she quickly got the hang of it. Occasionally, she’d loop a set over his head until he began to look a bit like a cheap Technicolor Mr. T.

There were marching bands, more elaborate costumes, ornate floats—just an ongoing stream of tacky, over-the-top opulence. And Jamie loved every minute of it. She’d had no idea she was such a sucker for a parade, and the crowd’s enthusiasm was contagious. This was so much better than sitting at the Lucky Gator listening to a crappy band play, and she finally understood the allure of the street party.

This was simply freakin’ awesome.

Colin kept pointing out details and providing backstory, acting as her own private Mardi Gras guide and tutor. When a float broke down, bringing the parade to a halt, Colin got her a beer from a street vendor and then danced with her to a high school marching band’s rendition of “Louie, Louie” before putting her back on his shoulders for the last few floats. She was sad to see the final one go by.

As the crowd began to pull back a little, Colin set her on her feet for the last time.

Rising up onto her tiptoes again, she kissed his cheek, surprising them both. “That was so much fun. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Want me to walk you back to the bar?”

Jamie fished her phone out of her pocket. No message from Kelsey, so she was probably still there listening to David’s band mangle another classic, and she didn’t really want to go back now, anyway.

Colin must have picked up on her mood. “Or we could head a couple of blocks up the street and watch the next one?”

A happy glow settled in her stomach. “I think I’d like that. A lot, actually.”

To her surprise, he seemed genuinely pleased with her answer. He held out his hand. “Then let’s go.”

This time, she didn’t think twice about taking it.

Let the good times roll.

TWO

They ate muffulettas bought from a food cart near Woldenberg Park as the sun went down. Jamie didn’t really care for the olives, but she wasn’t complaining. About anything.

Today hadn’t been what she’d expected—who could have expected this?—and if anyone had tried to tell her she’d have one of the best days of her life at a street party with a guy she barely knew, she’d have laughed in their face.

Colin wadded up the wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it into an already overflowing garbage can. New Orleans was a beautiful place, but it was definitely worse for wear today, with garbage littering the streets and a pervasive odor of stale beer, sweat and something else she didn’t even want to try to identify. She could relate, though. Like the city, she wasn’t exactly fresh as a daisy now either, but she was still thrumming with energy and excitement and the desire for a good time.

She might just come to love New Orleans.

That might not be a good thing.

“Your nose is turning pink,” Colin said.

Jamie wrinkled it experimentally and felt the tightness. “Great. I’m going to have a clown nose.”

“Cutest clown ever.” He reached out a finger and touched it gently, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Does it hurt?”

The proximity, the gentle touch, the concern in his voice...Jamie’s throat felt tight and that tingly anticipation slid up through her stomach again. “No. Not yet,” she managed to get out.

He nodded and traced a finger along her cheekbone. “You’re a little pink here, too.”

Colin was killing her. There’d been flirting all day, the friendly, teasing kind that danced along the line but never went over it, leaving her wondering if it was just his personality or genuinely directed at her. She’d scraped the rust off her own flirting skills and given it her best, but the results were unsatisfying—in multiple ways. She had no idea if she was having any effect on him at all, and if not, was it from lack of interest on his part or lack of skill on hers?

She’d been touching him for hours—even once wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing against his back as they went through a particularly dense crowd—but she wanted to really touch him. She’d found herself staring at his lips, her mouth gone dry and her stomach fluttering, but Colin never made the move. Even when he touched her—a hand on her back to guide her, holding her hand in the crowd, even once wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close and protectively when a couple of drunk guys got a little too rowdy—it hadn’t been more than what she’d expect from any male friend. It bordered on brotherly, for God’s sake.

And it was completely, absolutely killing her.

Surely Colin wouldn’t spend this much time with a woman he didn’t feel some attraction to? This might have started out as a step above a pity date, but he could have gone his own way at any time. The fact that he hadn’t gave her hope.

If this was some kind of game, he was playing her like a pro, but it didn’t feel like a game, and that both pleased and concerned her. Because if she was being played, she was falling for it, hook, line and sinker, and she couldn’t stop herself if she wanted to. And she wasn’t sure she really wanted to anyway.

But if Colin didn’t make a move on her soon, she was going to launch herself at him like a penis-seeking missile, probably humiliating them both at the same time.

She drained the last of her beer, wishing she had a few more in her system—just enough to cause her to lose the inhibition that kept her from acting on the ideas running wild and free through her mind.

But no, she’d just had to be somewhat responsible today.

Just enjoy this for what it is. Don’t ruin it by making a complete fool of yourself.

She was probably misreading the situation anyway. Maybe this was just some New Orleans tradition she was unaware of—a local interpretation of Southern hospitality: find a bored tourist and show her a good time.

And hadn’t she proven—conclusively—that she was really bad at reading people, unable to even pick up on the glaringly obvious, much less the subtle? She wouldn’t even be here if she had the ability to judge people correctly. At the same time, she was still glad she was.

So this was a nightmare—an oddly pleasant and exciting nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.

Colin’s finger moved away. “Yep, definitely a few new freckles, too.”

Sweet mercy. She was in such a mind-versus-libido turmoil time was practically standing still while it was grinding away. Not that those frozen moments in time were necessarily a bad thing...

She took a deep breath, but Colin’s phone rang before she could say anything. He took it out, glanced at the screen and sent the call to voice mail, but not before she had the chance to see the smiling face of a very attractive woman on the screen. “Feel free to answer that,” she said as casually as possible.

He shook his head. “It’s just Elise. One of our friends is having a party today, and she probably just wants to know where I am.”

“Oh.” She forced herself to smile instead of asking who Elise was.

As if he could read her mind, Colin offered, “Elise is my baby sister, by the way.”

She had to fight not to show relief in that news. “Well, if you need to go, then don’t let me keep you.” She tried to sound casual about it. “You’ve been great to show me around, and it’s been really fun.” She fished her own phone out and checked Kelsey’s last message. “Kelsey and David are barhopping, and I can go catch up with them.”

Colin lifted an eyebrow at her. “I’ll take you back to your friends now, if that’s what you want.”

“God, no.” Jamie stopped and cleared her throat. She toyed with her watch, trying to look nonchalant. “I mean, I’m having a good time with you, but I really do understand if you want to...”

He leaned back on his elbows in the grass and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Do I look like someone who’s in a hurry to go somewhere else?”

She felt herself smile and just hoped it wasn’t too goofy-looking. “I guess not.”

Colin rolled slightly toward her. “So what do you want to do now?”

A dozen images jumped immediately to mind, and she gritted her teeth to keep from describing them in detail. “I guess we could go back to the Quarter? After all you’ve said about it, I’m kinda curious to see the insanity for myself.”

He looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

No, but you’re not giving me better options. “Isn’t it part of the full Mardi Gras experience?”

“Oh, honey, it’s an experience all its own.” He leaned all the way back, stacking his hands behind his head. Turning his head toward her, he arched an eyebrow. “You think you can handle it?”

That was a tad insulting. “Of course I can handle it. Why would you think I couldn’t?”

“It’s way outside your comfort zone.”

“You know nothing about my comfort zone,” she protested.

“You blushed when that drunk guy propositioned you, and he wasn’t even that graphic about it.”

That was true, but the blush hadn’t come from the guy’s proposition. She’d been hoping Colin would make her that offer, and that was what had made her blush. “It simply caught me off guard.” She tried to add an airy wave, but accidentally caught one of the many, many beads around her neck in the clasp of her watch instead, and had to take a moment to untangle herself.

“There will be nudity, adult situations, suggestive language...”

“So it’s an X-rated event,” she interrupted. “I’m a grown woman and this is the internet age, you know. I don’t think I’m that shockable.”

That earned her a smile. “Then let’s do it.” He rolled to his feet and brushed the grass off before extending a hand to help her up. The crowds weren’t quite as thick here, so Colin didn’t take her hand—sadly—but he did put his hand on the small of her back again to guide her. She was so primed, even that simple touch was downright torture.

The wind off the river blew the hair that had escaped her braid into her eyes as they walked, but the breeze felt good.

She’d chosen New Orleans as her new hometown almost on a whim. It was far enough away to be a fresh start, but it also seemed like the kind of vibrant, exciting place where a person could truly reinvent herself. And after a few Midwest winters, the climate seemed ideal.

She hadn’t had time yet to explore the city, but she was now making a mental list of all the places she wanted to explore sooner rather than later. As they turned toward Jackson Square, all lit up with the cathedral behind it, she began to fall in love. “I can’t wait to see what New Orleans is like when it’s not Mardi Gras.”

“There’s always something going on,” Colin said, “but it’s not always crazy like this. It’s a good bit cleaner, too,” he added, kicking a plastic cup into the gutter with the other trash.

“You really love this city, don’t you?” He’d been a walking, talking guidebook all day, and she belatedly realized that it was genuine love and pride for his hometown causing it—not just the need to inform or impress with his knowledge.

“What’s not to love?” he asked, spreading his arms wide to embrace the city. Directly to his left, a college-age girl was loudly being sick into a garbage can. “Well, except for that,” he corrected and steered her away.

The crowds were getting thicker and Colin reached for her hand as they moved farther into the Quarter. This time, though, he pulled her in front of him, letting his arm cross her chest like a seat belt, pressing her against his chest and tucking a hand into the back waistband of her shorts. “Whatever you do, don’t let go of me. I’ll never find you in this crowd.”

Jamie just wanted to lean against him for awhile—maybe rub a little against that chest—but Colin was pushing her forward into the mass of people on St. Peter’s Street. She didn’t think it would be possible, but the crowd got even denser as they crossed Royal, edging closer to Bourbon Street and the epicenter of all things.

Oh, the internet had not prepared her for this. She’d been expecting costumes, and she wasn’t disappointed. Most of them weren’t as elaborate as those worn in the parades, but some did try with large amounts of feathers and rhinestones. The closer they got to Bourbon, however, the smaller the costumes got—leaving elaborate behind in favor of exposure.

There was a man wearing nothing more than a strategically placed jester’s hat and harlequin face paint walking with a man in a crown and a cape who displayed a very long...um...scepter. A man on stilts wearing lingerie and a feathered mask. And the women—she’d never seen so many breasts before, either exposed as a part of the costume or simply bared in order to be showered with beads. Every body shape and type was on display, and she had to have a bit of respect for the people with enough self-confidence to let it all hang out like that—literally.

Jamie hadn’t led a sheltered life, but she had lived a rather circumspect one. She’d been a good girl from a nice middle-class family; there simply hadn’t been much trouble for her to get in to. She’d flirted with rebellion in college, but then she’d met Joey, who had always worked so hard to keep his public image squeaky clean, to be the kind of player that kids would look up to and their parents would be glad for it. It had been one of the things she’d loved about him—even if she now knew it was all a lie—and she’d been happy to adjust her expectations accordingly. So while Joey had been doing a lot of wild partying—along with other things—behind her back, she’d never been a part of that lifestyle. Now her eyes felt as if they were bugging out of her head.

She heard Colin chuckle in her ear. “I tried to warn you.”

“I’m amazed, but you can hold off on the smelling salts.” She twisted around to look at him. “This is unbelievable, though. Is it legal to get naked like that?”

Colin shrugged. “Public nudity is illegal, but on Bourbon Street—especially this time of year—as long as you’re not causing a ruckus, you’re probably safe from arrest.”

“I guess the police have plenty of bigger fish to fry today.”

“Exactly.”

Their progress through the crowd had been slow but steady, giving Jamie the opportunity to look around and absorb all she could, but then they got caught in a raucous pack parked under a balcony.