Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(16)

She took a look at his perfectly manicured hands, then glanced at her own chewed nails. She remembered Christopher from high school, the quiet, brilliant kid who hid in the back of the classroom trying not to draw any attention to himself. That was probably the only reason Maryse had noticed him…because she was busy doing the same thing but without the benefit of being brilliant.

He had helped her with her homework a couple of times, never actually looking her in the eye, his neck flushed with red the entire time. Christopher Warren had been a nice kid and had probably become a nice man. And maybe, just maybe, if she had another man around, she wouldn’t spend so much time thinking about Luc.

Her mind made up, she flashed Christopher her best smile as he turned around to look at her. “Am I going to live?” she asked.

He returned her smile and nodded. “I’m afraid so, but with one whopper of a headache for a couple of days. I can prescribe you something stronger than aspirin for that, but otherwise, I just want you to take it easy until the swelling goes down. Try not to jostle your head and it will heal a little faster. If it lasts more than a week, I’ll need to see you back here.” He looked over at Dr. Breaux for confirmation.

“Doctor Warren is correct,” Dr. Breaux said. “The X-ray doesn’t show anything to cause alarm, but you should watch the lump over the next couple of days and come back in if it gets worse.” He patted Maryse on the shoulder and nodded to Christopher. “I’ll leave you to the prescription writing. That way I don’t have to pull out my glasses again.” He smiled at both of them and left the room.

“Alone at last,” Christopher said, and smiled at Maryse.

Okay, he’s probably flirting.

Christopher pulled a prescription pad from his pocket and began to write, then handed her the slip of paper.

She took it without looking and asked, “Can I get this filled at the hospital pharmacy?”

He flashed her a broad grin. “I rather doubt it. That’s my phone number.”

Definitely flirting.

“If your head isn’t killing you in a couple of days,” Christopher continued, “I’d love to take you to dinner. We can catch up on the post–high school life events, and I’d love to hear about the work you’re doing here. Botany, right?”

Maryse nodded.

“Besides,” Christopher continued, “any woman who wears a cocktail dress for an emergency room visit has got to be an interesting date. Call me whenever you feel up to it.” He handed her a second slip of paper. “This is for your headache, and yes, the pharmacy should have them in stock.”

Maryse held in a groan when he mentioned the cocktail dress. She hadn’t even thought about how strange she must look. Heck, the whole day had already been so strange that now the dress seemed such a small matter. But hey, if it got her date offers from cute doctors, then maybe she’d have to reconsider Sabine’s shopping suggestion. She took the second sheet of paper, and Christopher lingered a bit, making sure his fingers brushed against hers. She waited for a spark, for her skin to tingle, but had to admit that aside from wondering what brand of lotion he used to keep his hands so soft, she really didn’t get much out of it at all.

“I’ll give you a call,” she promised, and stuck the slips in her purse.

He gave her arm a squeeze and walked out of the room. Maryse leaned over slightly to study his behind as he walked away. Not as good-looking as Luc’s. With a sigh, she hopped off the table and made her way down the hall to the pharmacy. It didn’t mean a thing. Most men in the world didn’t have a butt as nice as Luc LeJeune’s. Besides, butts weren’t everything. One day she’d be too old to see it, and her arthritis too bad to squeeze it, right?

She was insane—there was no doubt in her mind. Apparently, she was more attracted to men who wouldn’t stick around long enough to leave a scent on the sheets than men who would probably not only leave a scent but help with the laundering. Christopher was good-looking, successful, and seemed to be just as nice now as he had been in high school.

But even as she ran through Christopher’s list of attributes, a mental picture of Luc flashed through her mind—leaned back in her office chair, looking at her with that slow, sexy smile, his jeans rippling in all the right places. Stopping in the middle of the hall, she closed her eyes, silently willing the scene to go away. Then she pulled the slip of paper with Christopher’s number from her purse. No more playboys, regardless of how sexy their butts were. She was going to learn to walk on the safe side.

For once in her life, she was going to do the boring, responsible thing.


Maryse was relieved that Luc’s Jeep was nowhere in sight when she pulled her rental up at the office. She was simply out of energy for confrontations. Ten or so a day was probably a national limit or something. She let herself into the office and went straight to her lab, unlocking the deadbolt with a key from her personal set. Then she pushed open the lab door and went straight for her catalog on the desk in the far corner.

She was two hours and at least thirty flagged items into her catalog when she glanced down at her watch and realized the time. Tapping her pen on the desk, she thought about her options—head home or into town for an early dinner with Sabine. She had just settled on early dinner when the office phone rang.

She checked the display and felt her heart speed up when she recognized the number for the lab manager at the university in New Orleans. “Aaron,” she answered, “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. I don’t suppose you have any good news for me?” She waited expectantly, wondering if he was about to give her a way to spend some of her newfound riches.