Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)(21)

Well… until she got it in her head he needed to take responsibility for his actions. Flame had made quite the impression with her poor-innocent-woman-seduced-by-the-charming-playboy act. It didn’t help that he had a certain reputation with the ladies and his grandmother knew it. She’d always been sharp; the boys had been certain when they were growing up she had eyes in the back of her head catching their misdeeds. And now she wanted Flame brought into the family fold. He’d stopped denying he’d slept with her.

And he’d even stopped denying she might be carrying his child. What was the use? His grandmother wanted it to be true and nothing he said was going to change that fact.

“I’m about to die of thirst,” Ian said. He pressed the icy bottle of beer Wyatt snagged for him to his brow. “I’m just replacing what I been sweating out.”

Wyatt laughed at him. “You’re soft, mon ami, can’t take the heat with all that fine living you been doing.”

“Fine living?” A slow grin spread over Ian’s face. He shook back his shock of red wavy hair. “Oh, I like that, Gator. We been living fine up there in Miss Lily’s big house.” He tipped half a bottle of beer down his throat. “You’re a good man, Wyatt, but you don’t know the half of it.”

Gator snorted derisively. “Don’ let the boy fool you, Ian. Wyatt’s been up to no good. He’s been doin’ noth but partying, fighting, and getting into trouble with the ladies. Grand-mere wrote me ‘bout the hell-raising you been up to, Wyatt, and me, I’ve come home to straighten you out.”

Wyatt winked at Ian. “Oh, I don’ think I have much to worry about anymore, big brother. I think Grand-mere has a new bee under her bonnet and it isn’t me in trouble this time! I phoned the boys and let them know you were about to tie the knot with some high-stepping voodoo queen. They were pleased for you.”

“You’re enjoying the hell out of this, aren’t you, Wyatt?” Gator asked.

“Absolutely I am,” He leaned on the pole again, pushing the pirogue closer to the pier. “For once in my life, I’m not the one Grand-mere Nonny is going to slap upside the head and it feels damned good.”

“I’m sure your grandmother will understand when you get around to telling her the truth,” Ian soothed.

Both Wyatt and Gator shook their heads simultaneously. “Once Grand-mere gets a notion, she never lets up,” Wyatt explained. “Gator’s gonna have to find him self a bride, willin’ or not.”

Gator replayed the feel of Flame’s soft body against his. She was so damned soft. And her eyes… Vivid. Green. A man could drown in her eyes. Maybe he might be more willing than he thought he was. He shook his head as if that might dislodge such an idiotic thought.

She’d looked at him almost desperately there at the end, when she was under his body, his fingers squeezing her trachea, the two of them head to head, dangerous and angry with each other. “I don’t know if I can.” He listened to the words replay in his head. There had been fear and honesty mixed together. She’d sounded so damned vulnerable he ached inside. Everything protective in him had risen up and reached out to her. She had been afraid of hurting his family. She hadn’t wanted to, but she’d been afraid she might.

Damn Whitney. Damn both Whitneys. He was home looking for a lost friend. Poor little Joy. Her parents weren’t rich and it was easier for the police to believe she’d taken off to the big city rather than to launch a full-scale investigation that might cost the taxpayers money. She was his priority, not Iris “Flame” Johnson. He didn’t give a damn what Lily said. He didn’t have to bring Flame back to a place that must have been hell for her. A place that would only have bad memories and…

“What the hell!” Wyatt crouched low and gripped the sides of the pirogue as it rocked unexpectedly.

Gator glanced up quickly, saw the churning water and met Ian’s gaze over the top of his brother’s head. He drew in a long, slow breath and let it out to calm his mounting temper. Ian raised an eyebrow at him and Gator shrugged it off. He needed to find his balance and maintain it at all times. He reached out and snagged an other cold bottle of beer from the ice chest and downed a third of it, the liquid giving him a measure of coolness in the heat.

“Any news on Joy, Wyatt?” he asked, suddenly.

Wyatt sighed. “Nothing. No one seems to have heard or seen a damn thing.”

Gator glanced up sharply at his tone, noting the shadows in Wyatt’s eyes, the somber face.

“You said you were putting out feelers about the boy she was seem’, talking to some of your friends.”

“James Parsons. About twenty-four, good-looking, at least all the girls say so. His daddy hobnobs with the politicians and knows just about anyone who is anyone. Rumor is, James brought Joy home for dinner and Daddy and Mommy objected. Said she wasn’t quite good enough for their circle of friends and he could sow his wild oats, but forget about anything permanent. From what her sister told me, it was said right in front of her and James didn’t put up a word of protest.”

“What an ass,” Ian said as he exchanged a quick glance with Gator. They both knew of the elder Parsons. He was head investigator in the DEA and was presently scrutinizing a local businessman for money laundering. They also knew he had a reputation for being a first-class snob.