In Shining Whatever (Three Magic Words Trilogy #2)(39)

He grinned. "Now that's an interesting idea."

Kate led the way back to the bedroom and opened a bottom dresser drawer. She brought out a sheet with big pink daisies scat tered all over it, then a blue and green plaid one, and one with Rudolph pulling Santa's sleigh. "See those hooks up there?" She pointed to the ceiling.

He looked up.

"We are going to string these sheets on the twine and fasten it to the hooks. You will have a cubbyhole with a bed and dresser in it when we are done."

"What if I get up at night to go sit on the porch or go to the bathroom or have a cold beignet?"

"I'll be safe in my cubbyhole. We are going to make your walls and then mine."

"Why two?"

Kate shrugged. "Because that's the way. You want to question Maw Maw, go right ahead"

He didn't ask any more questions. They made his walls and then she removed three sheets for her end of the room. This time she chose three solid pink ones.

"Why did I get the psychedelic walls and you get girly pink?"

"When you wake up, you need to realize where you are and not think they are real walls. Next time you come to Louisiana you might get plain ones," she added.

He wondered briefly if that comment meant she had chosen to stay, but decided that he had a week to change her mind if she had. This time he wasn't letting go as easily as he had in the past.

She was standing on the bed holding the sheet up when she lost her footing and fell backward. He reached out and caught her before she hit the floor, and in her fear, she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly and buried her face in his chest.

"Little clumsy there," he said hoarsely. Her body against his felt so right and so good that he didn't want to put her down.

"The bed threw me. I'm not clumsy," she protested, but she didn't wiggle out of his embrace.

She licked her lips when he tipped her chin up with his fist and lowered his mouth to hers. Fireworks on the Fourth of July didn't compare to the sparks that lit up the bedroom. She leaned in so close that she could feel his heart thumping.

"Where are y'all?" Maw Maw yelled, as she opened the screen door.

Kate bounded out of Hart's arms as if they were prepubescent teenagers. "Back here. We're just finishing putting up the sheets"

They heard her opening cabinet doors and putting away groceries, then the flapping sound of flip-flops hitting the soles of her feet as she made her way to the bedroom door. "I'm going to talk to Minnette up at the courthouse about the cochon de lait tomorrow night. Finish this job and get out of the bedroom. Ain't no place for a couple who ain't married to be lingerin'. Puts idees in your mind."

"Maw Maw!" Kate blushed.

"I was young once upon a time and I ain't yaw now," she said with a huff, leaving them standing there speechless.

Hart raised an eyebrow at Kate.

"Remember? Cochon de lait is a get-together. I told you while you were in the hospital about the words they use down here," she said.

"Yaw?" He said it with a Texas twang, and it sounded odd.

"You're not saying it right, but it means half stupid, not worthy of a whole stupid," she explained. "You'll get on to it and in a couple of days you won't even hear the Cajun anymore."-

"I doubt that, but we'd best get out of the bedroom before I start getting idees," he said, giving the last word several syllables.

She slapped at the air close to his arm but was careful to not touch him again, or the idees wouldn't be his but hers, even if Maw Maw brewed up her worst gris-gris bag.

At that rebellious thought, Kate's blush was so crimson that it actually itched. But not as much as that place so deep inside her heart.

"Fishing?" Hart asked.

"You might want to change clothes. It's hot and sultry on the bayou this time of day. You bring anything other than starched Wranglers and button-down shirts?"

"Got a pair of jean shorts and a few T-shirts," he answered.

"Put 'em on while I get the jug of iced tea ready. We'll take some of the cold beignets with us to nibble on if we get hungry before suppertime."

In a few minutes he joined her in the kitchen. His shorts were wrinkled and worn and the orange T-shirt had a white silhouette of the Texas Longhorns symbol. He'd hung his hat on the bedpost and opted for a cap with the Rockin' D logo across the brim.

Kate still wore her faded denim capris and an oversize redand-white-striped knit shirt that fell to below her hips. Her dark hair was pulled up with a big plastic clip that kept it off her neck but let the ends poke out every which way. She'd long since sweated off any traces of makeup and had eaten off her lipstick with the beignets.

Hart thought she was absolutely adorable.

He carried the cooler with the tea and snacks and the can of worms. She carried two lawn chairs, stuck two bamboo poles under her arm, and led the way down a path through the cypress and live oaks.

A soft breeze blew the dry drooping moss, and twice it hit Hart in the face. He pushed it aside without losing any of his cargo. It was years and years since he'd been fishing, and never with a bamboo pole. The last time had been off the coast of Galveston when he was down there on the rodeo rounds; he and several other bull riders booked a fishing boat and went out into the gulf on a deep-sea excursion.