The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(51)

“As soon as I met you, I knew you were special,” he said. Then he lowered his head, pausing once to see if she was going to object.

A few minutes ago she’d been pondering a question about his family, wondering where he’d learned to speak so fluently and dance so well. Her thoughts were tangled up in his words, trying to catch up with his meaning. He’d meant to tell her something before now but those questions disappeared like mist in the sunshine.

Paul was going to kiss her, something she’d been wanting since she first saw him just days ago. It didn’t matter where they were or who saw them. She didn’t care about her reputation or her store. There was no other thought in her head except the anticipation. Her eyes fell closed and she met him halfway, glorying in the pressure of his mouth, the heat of his skin, that delirious scent of man and old books. Her arms went up around his neck and she threaded her fingers through his hair. He made a low noise in his throat and he pressed her closer.

Alice had no idea how long they stood there, wrapped up in themselves, oblivious to all her friends and neighbors just feet away. It wasn’t the kind of kiss she was used to from Eric. Or anyone. Suddenly, Paul lifted his head and she struggled to catch her breath. She looked up, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes finally focused on his face and her body went cold. His eyes were filled with shock and surprise.

“Hi there, Alice,” Andy said, his voice barely cutting through the noise of the music and the boots hitting the stage. He stood behind her, hands in his pockets. Andy shrugged a little, as if in apology.

Alice stepped back, her knees shaking. She put a hand to her mouth. Andy must have seen what was happening and made his way through the dancers to rescue his friend.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need Paul… over here… for a second.” Andy looked incredibly uncomfortable. He pointed to the side of the stage where a dark-haired, middle-aged woman was standing. She was wearing a flowered top, fashionable jeans, and a leather tote purse. Her fists were planted on her hips and her expression was a mix of amusement and disapproval. Mostly disapproval.

“Oh, wow.” Paul’s hand dropped from around Alice’s waist. “Would you like to come meet my mother?”

A bolt of white hot embarrassment went through Alice. She’d never been one of those girls that kissed guys in public, in the dark, under the trees. Her face felt like it was on fire. She pressed her hands to her cheeks for a moment, willing herself to get control.

“No! No, I can’t. I was actually looking for someone else before you showed up.” She cringed inwardly at the last sentence. The words were tumbling out of her mouth.

Paul caught her hand. “Please. We can talk. And I’d like you to meet my mom.” He glanced at Andy and then back to Alice, as if his friend might be able to convince her to stay.

She shook her head, fighting to put on a bright smile. “This has been fun, but I’m not like this. I don’t just―.” She motioned between them. “I need to go.” And she turned on her heel, practically running from under the trees, past the stage, and toward the boardwalk.

Alice dodged couples, trying her best to ignore the laughter and whispered comments that followed her. Her heart was pounding but she kept walking until she reached the safety of her front door. There she turned, looking back for one brief moment. She had come to the festival with such high hopes. She was going to meet BWK, a real friend who understood her like no one else seemed to understand her.

Instead, she’d let herself be distracted. More than distracted. She’d made out with the man she’d vowed to fight, the man she’d been determined to avoid. Alice took out her key. Her hands shook so badly she thought she would have to give up and go around to the back door until she could calm down. Finally, she got the key in the lock and tumbled inside, closing the door against the music and the noise of the party outside.

She walked toward her desk without bothering to turn on the lights. Her eyes burned with hot tears and she choked back several gasping sobs. For the second time in as many days, she was crying over Paul Olivier. The first time he’d made her so angry she trembled with rage. The second time, it felt as if he’d reached inside and touched her heart with his bare hands.

Alice slumped into her chair, clutched the rings to her chest and let herself cry. Van Winkle lifted his head and made worried sounds but Alice couldn’t stop. A terrible fear was growing inside. Maybe something was wrong with her. The stress of the inheritance lawsuit and running the store was becoming too much. Grief and anxiety could cause a mental breakdown, she knew that for a fact. And her behavior was completely out of the norm.

Sure, she was shy, but it was more than that. When she went out on a date, she wanted to keep a little distance. Eric had put in two weeks and three dates before he got a kiss, and it had been just a second or two. She wasn’t cold, just cautious. It was always better to be safe than sorry. A girl needed to trust a guy before she could give up her heart. People weren’t always what they seemed and not everyone had the best intentions. It was just better to take it slow. But tonight she had thrown away everything she thought she believed about first dates.

Alice sucked in a breath, half-laughing through her tears. Forget about first dates. This was a random dance-floor hook-up. He’d said a few words in Louisiana Creole, swung her through a song from her childhood, and she’d been all his. Who knows what would have happened if Andy hadn’t shown up… with Paul’s mother.