Bayou Born(11)

Something about her drew him like a starving man to a feast. What if, just for tonight, he could put aside his no-fraternization rule? After all, this wasn’t a date, but a faculty party. Technically, since she was new, their official capacity of mentor/mentee didn’t begin until Monday. What if?

He joined her in the short line at the buffet. As she waited for people before them, she turned to him. “I’m hungry, Mr...”

“Here.” He pointedly ignored her hint at introductions. Instead, he offered her a plate from the remaining stack. It appeared most folks had eaten while he and Branna had danced.

“Thanks, but you still haven’t told me your name. I’m sure it’s not, Mr. Here.” She pinned him with a stare.

He winked. “How about we stick with the mystery for a little while longer. I promise, I’m harmless.”

Did her shrug mean surrender? At least for the moment?

Tonight he’d connected the dots from the woman at the Victorian to the one in the bookstore. That woman, a watery image beyond the widow, had looked vulnerable and scared. The antithesis of the woman before him. Who would’ve guessed that when he first met Branna, that day with Meredith, that she’d turn out to be his mentoring assignment for the semester?

And the most attractive woman he’d met in a very long while.

Had Dr. Brown set him up?

“Are you one of those guys who doesn’t eat anything green?” she asked. She dished salad from a wooden bowl onto her plate.

“No. I eat green. Why?”

“Then, try this.” With odd wooden paddles, she scooped up a pile of salad and plopped it onto his plate. “I happen to have it on good authority that it tastes great.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he told her skeptically.

As they navigated the rest of the food line, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances in her direction. Was Newton’s Third Law at play? “Force is a push or a pull that results from its interaction with another.” Despite the strong magnetic pull from her that said, “come hither,” usually, her kind of woman made him want to run for cover. Caroline had taught him that. Her kind fished for a guy, held him on her line, and after playing the line for a while, dumped him cold. Catch and release. Only Caroline had caught, released, then tried to hook him again. He wasn’t a slow study. One “Caroline” experience was enough to last any man a lifetime.

In Branna’s case, the worst of it was, she had beauty and brains, too. That made her more dangerous than the average high-maintenance type. He had to admit, the woman had a lot going in her favor. He’d read her resume and credentials before Dr. Brown hired her, though he still wondered why she had worked as an event planner in some small hole-of-a-nothing town. In Mississippi. For the last several years. And, why teach adult education classes at night?

Not his problem. Who understood a woman’s mind, anyway?

“Any idea what this is?” Branna asked. She peered into a chafing dish where something had been topped with toasted breadcrumbs.

“Nope,” he said. “And I don’t eat mystery food.”

Her laugh reminded him of soft tinkling wind chimes.

“Hmm. I would’ve guessed quite the opposite...coming from a mystery man.” She placed a dollop from the dish onto his plate. Rather than argue, it was his turn to shrug.

When they neared the end of the food line, their plates groaning, Bitsy made a beeline toward them. He frowned, and tried to wave her away without Branna noticing. It didn’t work.

“I see you’ve met our most eligible bachelor,” Bitsy said coyly to Branna. She tilted her head, motioning toward him as though he wasn’t standing there with a loaded dinner plate.

“Yes. Yes, she has,” he interrupted, hoping Bitsy wouldn’t blow his cover.

“Branna, you’re in good hands.”

“And, whose hands would those be, exactly?” Branna smiled sweetly.

“Why—”

“Bitsy, I see Fred over there by the bar.” He alerted the older woman. She always kept a watchful eye on her husband. Fred’s prescription caused unpleasant side effects if combined with alcohol. When Bitsy took off in Fred’s direction, he motioned for Branna to join him in the other tent. He set his plate in front of an empty chair and held the next one out for her.

“You’re good. But you know, I’ll find out your name sooner than later.”

She sat, and then he seated himself beside her.

“Hey, this salad is really good.” He hoped to distract her from the topic she appeared bent on pursuing. The mystery kept them on an even playing field. Once his identity was revealed, he’d be her mentor and her colleague, and flirting would be off the table. He wasn’t ready for that yet.

What had Dr. Brown been thinking? The man had listed an inventory of Ms. Lind’s accomplishments and noted her background, then suggested that James and Ms. Lind had a lot in common. School, career, and old southern families. He should have been suspicious when Dr. Brown hadn’t segued into a lecture about finding the right woman and creating a whole, fulfilling life. Nothing like an old reformed bachelor trying his hand at matchmaking.

Had Dr. Brown created this mentor program to push Branna at him? Couldn’t be. But, if so, Dr. Brown needed to stick to college matters, he wasn’t qualified to play cupid. That arrow was bound to go astray, and someone could get seriously hurt. And, while the woman in question oozed with charm that drew him irrationally like a fish to a shiny lure, that same charm could be a Pandora’s box of trouble. Trouble he didn’t want.

“I think this is green bean casserole,” he said, tasting the mystery food on his plate, courtesy of Branna.

She grinned at him.

They finished their food, and a server came to clear their plates. When the young woman reached for his, he touched her hand, trying to make it look like an accident.

No tingle.

No shimmer.

No pulsing sensation.

Nothing.

What was the thing happening between him and Branna?

“It’s getting late. I need to be going.” Branna started to rise.

“One more dance?” He hooked his little finger with hers. The mere connection of a finger looped with a finger started a rhythmic pulsating beat. It made him want to run, but the attraction to stay was stronger. He needed to look up Newton’s Laws to understand the phenomena. There had to be an explanation. Otherwise, Monday could be a problem. A big one.

No. He would put aside his personal issues and conduct himself as a professional. Helping Branna learn the lay of the land, helping her understand about the college and her job, was something he could handle with politeness. Anything more—beyond another dance tonight—was out.

“Okay, one more dance. Are you a glutton for punishment or what?” Branna giggled. She glanced at his feet pityingly and shook her head, then maneuvered through the crowd.

He followed, admiring the view.

One dance turned into four.

And he never knew the power of a scowl until that night. It kept several people from blowing his cover. But his time was running out. Soon, he had to tell her. Soon.

“How ’bout a drink?” Branna asked, touching her fingers to her flushed cheeks.

He caught her around the waist for one last twirl. His feet could use a break; his toes would be black and blue tomorrow. Tonight it didn’t matter.

“I know the bartender personally. He’ll give us a free drink.” Branna winked.

“Wine? Or Hard liquor?” He gave her a once over, trying to guess her preference.

“Well, what do you think?”

He studied her intently. “I think...you’re probably both. But it’s not yet a tequila night. Wine,” he finally decided.

She laughed. “Water will do me fine. No alcohol when I drive. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“What? The night is young!”

“Ah, but this girl turns into a pumpkin at midnight.”

“Don’t you have your fairytales mixed up? Cinderella fled. The coach turned into a pumpkin. I’m a guy, and I know that.”

“I don’t think Coach,” she nodded her head in Riggs’ direction, “would appreciate knowing he might be a pumpkin at midnight.”

“Cute. Cinderella, I’ll want another dance before I put you in your coach. Wait right here. I’ll get you that drink.”

He wrangled his way through the crowd, grabbed two bottles of water, and returned to find Branna deep in conversation with Dr. Brown. As he approached, the glint in Branna’s eye said his identity had been revealed.

“I see you found him, Ms. Lind. This is the guy I wanted you to meet. The one who’s been dodging me,” Dr. Brown said gruffly.

“Yes, it does appear that I’ve found the famous Dr. James Newbern.” Branna’s grin was forced.

“Busted,” James said sheepishly, disappointed he’d been found out. He had no excuse for being an ass. Except as long as she didn’t know who he was, he hadn’t broken his rule of no fraternization. He could get to know her freely without any expectations.