No Time like Mardi Gras

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 any 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?”

“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 to guide her. She was so primed even that simple touch was downright torture.

Dear Reader

Just one more book set in New Orleans and then I’ll stop. Or maybe I won’t. It’s a tough call, since I love New Orleans and it seems to be the perfect setting for a romance. New Orleans is exciting and vibrant and sexy, not afraid to break rules, push boundaries, or do its own thing its own way. It’s hard to resist and too much is never enough.

Kinda like a Modern Tempted™, you know… ~grin~

After years of insisting that he’s totally the inspiration for the heroes in my books, this time my Darling Geek will actually be telling the truth. In many ways Colin is based on my Geek, and at least one of the conversations between Colin and Jamie happened in real life—all I had to do was transcribe it. I’m not a Girl Geek—I don’t know a sonic screwdriver from a warp drive—but I am a geek girl. I go geeky for geeks. They rock my world.

And if indulging my love for New Orleans and geeks in this book wasn’t enough to make me smile, I also got to work with the fabulous Aimee Carson again on this duet. Aimee’s great; everyone should brainstorm with her. I loved having Aimee’s heroine, Callie, guest star in this book, and I know you’re going to love getting to know her better in her story.

There’s so much I love about this book—I just hope you’ll love Colin and Jamie’s story as well.

As always, I hope you’ll find me on Facebook, Twitter or my website (www.BooksByKimberly.com) and stay in touch! I’d love to hear from you.

Love

Kimberly

No Time Like

Mardi Gras

Kimberly Lang

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KIMBERLY LANG hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily-ever-after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

This and other books by Kimberly Lang are available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Finlay, you gorgeous, clever boy. I know you’re going to grow up to be even more awesome than you are now. (And remember your auntie knows a thing or two about awesome men, so you can trust me on that!)

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

From The Ex Factor:

Dear Exes,

My ex and I were together for three years and knew each other socially before that. Unfortunately, while our relationship is over, I still see him all the time. We have the same friends, go to the same places...it’s really awkward. We don’t hate each other, but we don’t want to be together anymore. How should I handle this?

Callie:

It takes time and a bit of tact. You don’t want to alienate your friends or make them feel as though they have to choose one of you and exclude the other. Change what habits and haunts you can—find a new coffee shop, a new bar to hang out in—so that the old places don’t remind you or others of your former couple status. Your friends will take their cues from you, so the more over him you are and the more comfortable you are in his presence, the easier it will become for everyone. You might even want to do things in smaller groups—minus your ex, of course—until the breakup isn’t so fresh. Eventually those friend-only feelings will return.

Ex-Man:

Move. As far away as you possibly can. I cannot recommend this strongly enough. You can always make new friends.

ONE

Sometimes being a nice guy sucked.

But a friend didn’t turn down a friend in need, even when that need was for a relief bartender on Fat Tuesday in the French Quarter.

Seemed he’d only thought his bartending days were over. And he’d forgotten how much he hated bartending.

Colin Raine made another cash drop just as Teddy came downstairs from his apartment above the Lucky Gator, looking somewhat better rested and fresh from the shower. Owning a bar in the French Quarter had been Teddy’s dream, but the frenetic, nearly twenty-four-seven nature of the business during Mardi Gras would test even the most pleasant of dreams come true. The guy hadn’t had more than a couple of hours’ sleep in a row all weekend.

“All good?” Teddy asked.

“All good.” Colin usually avoided the Quarter on Fat Tuesday—at least since bartending had quit being his main source of income—far preferring to watch the parades over near his own place off Lee Circle or hang with friends. At least it was still early, only just past noon, and while the revelers were thick in the streets, he had time to escape before the crowds really got crazy. “You owe me, though. Some drunk frat rat puked in the men’s.”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “Already?”

First-time visitors to the Quarter on Fat Tuesday always faced a bit of a shock at the all-out, truly bacchanalian atmosphere. Half the people on the streets were still drunk from the night before, and the rest were rushing to catch up. Depending on perspective, it was either the biggest and best street party in the world or an absolute nightmare.

The Lucky Gator occupied a great piece of real estate, just a block in from Canal on Chartres, and the place was hopping simply from the traffic of folks heading into or out of the Quarter itself or trickling in from the parade route on Canal. A local cover band played with enthusiasm—if not extreme skill—on the Gator’s small stage, calling folks in off the streets to continue the party indoors. Every table was occupied and folks stood in the doorways. They weren’t packed yet, but they would be—the crowds were already starting to pick up. Teddy was making a mint, which tended to dull the irritation of those who were letting the bons temps rouler a little too much.

He helped Teddy restock and bring out new kegs, dumped his share of the morning’s tips into the beleaguered waitresses’ tip jar, and took out the trash, where he was waylaid by the stupidity of two women who’d thought flashing for beads at street level was a good idea. It took him ten minutes to get them out of the groping maw of an overly appreciative crowd that looked as if it could easily turn aggressive and on their way with their friends.

With that, though, his good deeds for the day were officially done. He was getting the hell out of here. He had time for a shower and a nap before deciding if he’d head to a party or just stay home and work.

He went to tell Teddy that exact thing, only to find him staring oddly at something near the stage. Colin followed Teddy’s line of sight and nodded. “She’s been there for a couple of hours now.”

“She doesn’t look happy about it.”

The she in question was a pretty brunette, maybe in her mid-twenties, scrolling idly through her phone. While the other woman at the table, a blonde, was turned around, straddling her chair, practically dancing in her seat and catcalling the band, the brunette looked, for lack of a better word, bored. She had a couple of strands of beads around her neck and a beer he’d pulled over an hour ago sitting untouched on the table in front of her. It was a stark contrast to the scene surrounding her. She put her phone back in her pocket and seemed to sigh as she turned to watch the street.

Teddy shook his head. “A reluctant groupie.”

Colin realized Teddy was right. The blonde was obviously there for someone in the band and the brunette was the fifth wheel regretting accompanying her now. It was a shame, really, practically a crime, not to be having fun in New Orleans on Mardi Gras—especially since she’d obviously come for the celebrations, not to listen to some just-shy-of-crappy band. “How long is their set?”

Teddy sighed. “They’re booked for two.”

He nearly choked. “Really? They’re not that good.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. But every decent band in the parish was booked.”

Two hours into the first of two three-hour sets. The poor girl had a long day ahead of her if the blonde truly was there as the band’s groupie.

And her phone’s battery was bound to go dead eventually.

“You should go talk to her.”

Sleep deprivation was definitely doing damage to Teddy’s brain. “What?”

“I feel bad for her. Plus, she’s kinda bad for business, sitting there like that all miserable. People can see her from the street and they’ll think twice about coming in here.” Teddy grinned. “Consider it a favor.”

“I’m barely done with the last favor and you’re asking for another?”

Teddy grinned. “If I recall correctly, your exact words were, ‘I’ll owe you for life.’”

Damn it. Five years ago, the money Teddy had invested had been the final and crucial piece launching No Quarter and Rainstorm Games into the big leagues. He and Eric had pulled together every last cent they’d had—forgoing all but the most basic of human survival requirements—and had come up short. Teddy hadn’t had the money to spare at the time, but he’d given it anyway, pulling the cash out of his own business savings to support theirs.

Colin had meant the sentiment at the time, but he’d never thought he’d regret it. And it wasn’t as if Teddy regretted the money; the return on that investment had allowed him to open the Lucky Gator three years earlier than anyone expected. “Seriously, now, how long do you think you can keep playing that card?”

“The rest of your life, my friend. The rest of your life.” Slapping Colin’s shoulder, Teddy went behind the bar. “What? You got big plans or something?”

“Maybe,” he hedged.

“Plans other than locking yourself in your office and working?” Teddy grinned, knowing he’d gotten it right. As if Teddy had room to talk. He, Eric, Colin...they were all practically workaholics. Growing up just shy of poor and building your business from scratch often did that to people.

“Come on,” Teddy coaxed. “There’s a damsel in distress over there, Lancelot, so go save her. You know you want to.”

Actually, he didn’t. He’d done nothing but put out fires all day, and he was done with the whole thing. But...she did look miserable. “Fine. But we’re going to have a discussion about hyperbole and the shelf life of favors owed after this.”

Colin grabbed a bottle of water and went over. “Something wrong with your beer?” He practically had to shout over the music, but she did hear him.

The brunette looked up, startled at the interruption. Her eyes were a deep, deep green, and tiny freckles dotted her cheekbones. Strands of dark hair had escaped her braid to coil around her temples from the humidity. Close up, she was an all-American, fresh-faced, girl-next-door beauty. “Excuse me?”

“Your beer. You’re not drinking it. Something wrong with it?”

Her eyebrows pulled together briefly in confusion, then she seemed to notice the Lucky Gator logo on his T-shirt, and she smiled as she shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Just a little early in the day for me to be drinking.”

“That sentiment rather puts you in the minority today.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Indeed. But I’ve got all day, so I need to pace myself.”

He held up his water bottle. “Right there with you. Do you mind if I take this chair?”

“Oh, sure. Go ahead. We’re not using it.”

At her look of surprise when he sat down, Colin realized she’d thought he meant to take the chair away, not join her. He bit back a smile and stuck his hand out. “Colin.”

She shook it. “Jamie.” There was something careful about the way she said it, and her posture changed to be more guarded.

He pointed toward the bar. “That’s Teddy. He owns the Lucky Gator.”

Jamie followed his finger, and Teddy waved at her. With a small, slightly confused smile, she waved back.

“Teddy is concerned that you’re not having a very good time in his establishment.”

An eyebrow went up. “So you’ve been sent over here to find out why?”

She was honest, it seemed. No false assertions or denials. “Something like that. He seems to think I might be able to entertain you a little, since the music isn’t doing it.” He leaned forward. “Not that I blame you for having better taste than that.”

“That’s very kind of you and Teddy both, but I’m sure you’re very busy today and have better things to do than entertain me.”

“Teddy is busy. I’m done, thank God.”

Jamie’s head cocked sideways, causing the end of her braid to fall over her shoulder and into the cleavage that peeked through the colorful beads. “Your shift is over already? I’d think the big money would be made later today.”

It took him a second to catch up. Jamie assumed he was Teddy’s employee, which, considering the circumstances, wasn’t a bad guess. But he didn’t feel the need to correct her, either. The truth would require explanations and this really wasn’t the time for that. “This place will be a zoo in a few more hours. And once the parades are over, it will be a complete madhouse. There’s not enough money on the planet to get me to work that shift.” And Teddy knows not to even try to call in that as a favor.

“It gets that crazy, huh?”

He laughed. “This must be your first Mardi Gras.”

Jamie’s nose crinkled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Pretty much. The big giveaway is that you’re sitting here not having a good time when no matter what your definition of a good time is, it can be found right beyond those doors.”

She sighed wistfully. “Yeah, this was not what I expected to do today, but I came with Kelsey and she wants to listen to David play.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, but she’s hopeful about it. And since I don’t know my way around or anything, I’m stuck here with her.”

“What did you want to do today?” There was literally something for everyone, but since she’d already ruled out drinking, she obviously had something else in mind.

She smiled and it lit up her face. “I wanted to see the parades, of course. We caught a little bit of Zulu on the way in, but we were carrying the band’s stuff and couldn’t hang out to really watch.”

He looked at the clock over the bar. “Rex should be getting to Canal shortly. The truck parades follow it. There’s still plenty of parade goodness available, if that’s what you want.”

He could tell she wanted to, but that she was tamping down the desire. “Yeah, but I don’t think Kelsey’s really interested.”

“Go without her.”

She wrinkled her nose. It was kind of adorable. She was kind of adorable. “It wouldn’t be much fun to go alone.”

“It couldn’t be less fun than you’re having now.”

“True.” She fiddled with the beads around her neck, seemingly torn. “But would it be safe to go by myself? This may be my first Mardi Gras, but I have heard stories and I’m not stupid.”

That did show good sense. “Well, you’re sober, so that increases your safety exponentially right there. And you’d only need to go about two or three blocks on well-populated streets in the middle of the day, so I think you’d be all right. There’s a lot of people, but there’s also a lot of police around. If it was dark and you were planning on wandering the Quarter alone, I’d say differently.”

“I don’t know.” He could hear the indecision in her voice, the desire to go somewhere else battling with the common sense not to wander about alone in a strange city. “When I was a teenager, my mother used to tell me that it wasn’t me she didn’t trust, it was the situation.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “And if there was ever an untrustworthy situation, this would probably be it.”

“Want me to go with you?” It wasn’t until Jamie’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline in shock that he realized what he’d said. The offer had just come out of nowhere, without forethought, and he was almost as shocked as Jamie that he’d even made it. But he couldn’t just let her sit here when it was such an easy thing to fix.

Jamie was quick to recover, though. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure you have other plans today.”

He realized that was almost as suave of an invitation as she could get from any number of random dudes on the street. She’d just said she wasn’t stupid, and her refusal—as polite as it was—showed it.

But he was oddly disappointed. He’d known her for all of five minutes—and without Teddy’s intervention he wouldn’t have known her at all—but being shot down like that still stung, no matter how much sense it made. And it wasn’t as if it would help to mention that she’d be perfectly safe with him; he was pretty sure most serial killers professed what nice guys they were, too.

“I have no other plans,” that much was almost true “and I’d be happy to go with you for a while and walk you back here when you’ve seen enough.”

He could tell Jamie was really tempted. She was clearly bored out of her mind here and desperate to do something else, but he understood her hesitation at wandering off with a guy she’d just met. He’d kill his sister if she ever did exactly what he was suggesting to Jamie. At the same time, he was growing more and more interested in her and actually wanted her to accept his offer.

Then the band hit a particularly discordant note, and Jamie winced. That seemed to shake her out of her indecision. She tapped her friend on the shoulder. “Kelsey, give me your phone.”

The blonde turned around for the first time. “What? Why?” she asked as she handed it over.

Jamie held it up in his direction. “Smile.”

Caught off guard, he did, and Jamie took his picture.

“Kelsey, this is Colin. He’s a bartender here.” Jamie was typing into the phone as she spoke, but Kelsey sized him up and smiled at him appreciatively. Then Jamie looked at him again. “Last name?”

This didn’t make a lot of sense, but he answered anyway. “Raine.”

“R-A-I-N?”

“E,” he added automatically.

“Thanks.” She handed the phone back to her friend. “Colin and I are going up to Canal to watch the parade.”

Kelsey gave Jamie a look and a smirk. “Really, now? How interesting.” The innuendo in her voice all but had them doing it in an alley fifteen minutes from now.

Jamie frowned back at her. “I’ll meet you back here later. I’ve got my phone with me, so send me a text if you go somewhere else.”

Kelsey gave Jamie a big smile and then winked at him suggestively. He wasn’t unaccustomed to having women flirt with him, but that wink bordered on tawdry and made him feel a little dirty. “Y’all have fun.”

Jamie stood. Until now, he’d only seen her from the waist up, but that white T-shirt tucked into a pair of cutoffs exposing tanned legs and firm thighs. She wasn’t tall, maybe only chin height on him, but everything was perfectly proportioned.

So far he had no real reason to regret his impromptu and unexpected invitation.

Then Jamie grinned at him, her excitement clearly evident and surprisingly contagious to someone who should have been long immune to the parades. “Let’s go.”

Chartres Street wasn’t completely packed, but it was busy, requiring Jamie to stay close as he helped guide her through the throng. “What was that about?” he asked.

She turned to look at him, mild confusion wrinkling her forehead. “What was what about?”

“The phone. The photo.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Just in case I go missing, Kelsey has your photo and name to give to the police,” she answered matter-of-factly. “This may not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t have to be completely stupid about it either.”

Bold but cautious. Funny and smart. He put a hand on her back as he shouldered through a group gathered under a balcony begging beads from the people above.

Nope, no regrets at all.

* * *

I, Jamie Vincent, am a complete idiot. Her biography, if it were ever written, would carry the title But It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time.

She was alone, in a still-strange city, during one of the biggest street parties in the world, with a man she’d met ten minutes ago as her only guide.

But Colin didn’t seem creepy or shady—he hadn’t triggered any of her internal alarms—and it was broad daylight. She was sober, he was sober and there were, quite literally, thousands of people and police around. Surely it was safe enough to just watch a parade. Hell, Kelsey was so infatuated with David, she wasn’t exactly holding up her end of the buddy system anyway.

She couldn’t even get angry about it, either. Kelsey was just someone who’d agreed to rent her a room when she answered Kelsey’s ad. They weren’t exactly besties or anything. Kelsey didn’t owe her a good time, because Jamie was technically infringing on her Mardi Gras celebration to start with.

If I end up dead in a Dumpster, I’ll have only myself to blame.

She had a basic map of New Orleans in her head, but she’d only been here two whole days—and she’d spent most of that just trying to get settled in—so it was patchy at best. Chartres would cross Canal and become Camp, and Camp would get her home. That much she knew. As long as she stayed on the main streets, she shouldn’t get too lost or turned around.

The crowds got thicker as they approached Canal, and she found herself pressed closer to Colin. That wasn’t exactly a bad thing, she admitted to herself. Amid the general smell of stale beer and teeming masses of people, Colin smelled nice—like clean laundry. Plus, Colin had a rather nice body to be pressed against—athletic, but not muscle-bound. A girl could do much worse.

“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.