Love And Games: Taste The Heat Part 7

Her favorite teacher shot to her feet with a laugh, leaving no mistake who Emma had inherited her energy from. "Mrs. Landry is what my students call me," the woman scolded with a grin. "And seeing you all grown up and calling me that makes me feel old. Please call me Sharon."

Sharon wrapped her up in a hug, and Colby inhaled the comforting scent of Chanel No. 5 and baby powder. It transported her right back to the days of seventh grade, when life's dilemmas involved gossiping friends, pa.s.sing earth science, and mastering her father's corn and crabmeat soup recipe. Oh, and the unrequited crush she'd had on her teacher's son, of course.

Jason's mom smiled. She looked around the room packed with former students, then lowering her voice conspiratorially said, "You always were one of my favorites."

Colby laughed. Sharon squeezed her hand and sat down, and Colby turned to the distinguished gentleman on the woman's left. "It's nice to see you again, Chief." The man might've retired from the fire department years ago, but in her eyes, he'd forever hold the honorary t.i.tle. Jason's dad was larger than life with broad shoulders, a generous stomach, and an air that commanded your respect. "I hear you have more time for fishing these days."

"That I do," he said, pushing to his feet with a chuckle. "But the dang things still aren't biting." He leaned in to press a chaste kiss on her cheek, tickling her skin with his salt and pepper whiskers, and tilted his chin toward the stage. "Do you know that all I've heard out of my granddaughter this past week is Miss Robicheaux this, and Miss Robicheaux that? It seems as though you have yourself a fan club."

Anxiety crept back as Colby followed his smile to see Emma seated in the second to last row at the end of the stage, waving eagerly. She waved back, her chest growing uncomfortably tight, and said, "The feeling is mutual, Chief."

That's what made this so hard. Colby genuinely liked the girl. But between attending a school function, going on a family trip, and talking Emma through a monumental first like getting her period, everything was beginning to feel just so domesticated.

Emma lifted her palm to block her other hand and pointed at the boy beside her. "That's him," she mouthed, dramatically widening her eyes.

Colby laughed, knowing exactly who he was. During the camping trip, she'd gotten an earful about Brad, the mega-crush Emma had on him, and the fact that her dad would go positively b.u.t.t-crazy-her words, obviously-if he found out that Brad had told Molly who told Ava who told Emma that he liked her. "He's cute," she mouthed, nodding her approval.

When Colby turned back, she found the Chief watching her with a strange expression on his face. Not unfriendly by any means; more like curious, appraising. Questioning. His eyes cut to Emma, and then to Jason, and the corners of his mouth twitched. Her heart rate did a funny dance. She had a feeling his parents were getting an entirely wrong picture here. The same one she feared Emma was getting.

Unfortunately, the princ.i.p.al chose that moment to walk up to the podium. "Welcome family and friends to Magnolia Springs Elementary's Recognition a.s.sembly!"

The crowd broke into applause as Princ.i.p.al Levet adjusted the microphone, and Colby reluctantly took her seat between Jason and his mother. If she wasn't careful, it looked like the entire town would have the two of them engaged before they even officially sealed their little agreement. And marriage was so not in her future.

The cheers died down and the princ.i.p.al smiled. "As you all know," she said, folding her hands in front of her, "next week our students will finish up the year, taking end of term exams and partic.i.p.ating in the school-wide field day. But today we honor them for their many extra-curricular achievements. It's no secret that MSE has some of the most active, involved students on the north sh.o.r.e. So parents go ahead and get comfortable"-she gave the crowd a knowing smile-"because we're gonna be here for a while."

The audience laughed in appreciation, and the woman went on about the school's award-winning choir and band. But Colby couldn't shake the look she'd caught on the Chief's face. Settling back against the stiff plastic of her chair, she gnawed on her lip.

She hadn't been overly close with either of his parents, but she'd known them all her life. Because of Cane, the Landry family became fixtures around their house early on. They came to holiday parties, tagged along during a trip to Florida one year, and they were Robicheaux's most loyal customers. His parents had always gone out of their way to make her feel comfortable, and Colby hated the thought of disappointing either of them.

This thing with Jason kept getting stickier and stickier, and technically it hadn't even started yet. But Colby was too far-gone to think about backing out. Even in the packed room, her entire right side tingled with awareness of the s.e.xy captain. With the entire summer still stretched before them, all she could do was follow her heart-or in this case, hormones-and vow to keep in touch with Emma when their arrangement ended.

The choir members returned to their seats, certificates in hand, and Princ.i.p.al Levet reached for her bottle of water. As she uncapped the top, Emma caught Colby's eye and grimaced. Colby grinned. Emma's group must be up next.

Setting the bottle on the podium, the princ.i.p.al cleared her throat. "Our student council has been extra active this year," she said, confirming Colby's suspicion. "Our cla.s.s presidents banded together to raise money for our tutoring program, earning enough to purchase two new computers and a slew of reference materials for the library. Emma Landry, our sixth grade president, also chaired a baked goods drive for our literacy program."

Irrational pride bloomed in Colby's chest as the row of cla.s.s presidents stood to a round of applause. Emma's drive and ambition had absolutely nothing to do with her, but it didn't stop her from practically gloating on the girl's behalf. When Emma neared the front of the line to receive her certificate, Colby even joined the Landry family in catcalls. Jason let out an impressive whistle. His parents screamed her name. And Colby stamped her feet and whooped. Jason caught her eye and winked.

"Way to go Em!" Sharon cheered beside her as Emma posed for the school photographer.

"That's my peanut," the Chief called out.

Around them, people laughed good-naturedly at the attention, and Emma's face turned beet red. But from the mega-watt smile on her face, there was no mistaking that she was pleased.

Colby took in the scene with a heart split straight down the middle. It was awesome seeing Emma so happy. She was glad to be here and honored to have been asked. But the same question kept repeating in her mind: what kind of signal was she sending? To Emma, to Jason, to his parents...to herself?

Up and down, back and forth. Her emotions were like a freaking roller coaster. She wasn't a member of the Landry family, but she was for d.a.m.n sure acting like she was. Colby drew a series of short breaths, suddenly feeling like she couldn't inhale any deeper.

It was too much. Too fast. She'd only been in Jason's life again for, like, two weeks.

What was going on with her?

By the end of the a.s.sembly, Colby had barely managed to get her breathing back under control when Emma came barreling toward them. Jason scooped her up and squeezed her tight against his side.

"I'm so proud of you," he said, mussing her hair as he jostled her back and forth. During the last hour, Emma had racked up additional certificates for library helpers, peer tutoring, and volleyball, and if Colby had to wager a guess, she'd had the loudest cheering section of any other recipient. Emma buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, regardless of the fact that Brad and her cla.s.smates were all around. "By the time you graduate from this place, they're not gonna know what to do without you."

Emma blushed. "I didn't really do anything that special."

"Em, your dad's right." Putting on a smile, Colby began counting on her fingers. "Chairing a bake sale, tutoring, working in the library, leading the volleyball team in a.s.sists-as someone who has zero coordination, let me just say that I'm very impressed."

The girl laughed, but not before beaming even brighter. Pushing her bangs out of her face, she widened her eyes and asked, "You are coming to eat with us at Honey and Pop's, aren't you?"

Colby scrunched her nose at the abrupt subject change, and the strange names. Jason chuckled, seeing her confusion and explained, "Honey and Pop are my parents. We're going over there for dinner. And yes, we'd really love it if you joined us."

She hesitated-which was a feat in the face of Emma's fresh-faced eagerness. But she'd been looking forward to a quiet night alone to freak out. And wouldn't tagging along lead to more of the same confusion? The deal she made with Jason wasn't about sweet family moments. It was a night between the sheets, not dinner at mom and dad's. Unless said dinner included a night of babysitting services and a green light for hooking up.

But before Colby could come up with a halfway decent excuse, Sharon squeezed her shoulder. "You know I have enough food to feed an army," she cut in with a twinkle in her eye. "And it would be an honor to serve a renowned chef. Well, as long as you don't turn into one of those judges on Iron Chef. Those people can be brutal."

Even the Chief jumped in, saying, "Yes, you should join us," which actually only proved her point. Colby knew what he was thinking, what he thought was happening between her and Jason.

All four of them were looking at her with such hopeful expressions that Colby couldn't help feeling a strange tug. Of belonging, of feeling as though she fit into their sweet family unit. And wanting to fit into it even more.

That desire scared her.

This was only a fling. It was all it could ever be. And she needed to remember that.

Then Jason tilted his head to the side and a spark entered his eye. She didn't know where it came from, didn't know what it meant, but it felt like a challenge. A challenge she wanted-no, needed to meet. Turning to Emma and against her own better judgment she asked, "So what's for dinner?"

"Everything all right in here, Dad?"

Jason knocked on the partially open door to his father's study. The women were huddled together in the kitchen, cooking up a storm and outnumbering him with estrogen. He prided himself on being a decent cook, but the expression "too many cooks in the kitchen" existed for a reason. So he and his Y-chromosome had left.

When his old man hadn't been glued to the television set in the living room, he'd headed here. And now that he'd found the man in his favorite hiding spot, Jason knew something was wrong.

By nature, Robert Landry was outgoing and talkative. He had a way of pulling anyone around him into a conversation, and he could go on forever about almost anything. Anything except his feelings, that is. Other than anger, emotions of any kind, in his father's opinion, were strictly women's territory. But after the a.s.sembly, he'd been uncharacteristically quiet.

"Huh?" His father spun his leather executive chair away from the window, looking up with an expression that said he'd been somewhere else entirely. "Oh, sure, sure."

Jason nodded, not for a moment believing it. Wisps of the man's hair stood on end, as if he'd raked his fingers through it without thought, and his mouth was set in an inscrutable line.

Gesturing from behind a desk cluttered with fishing knickknacks, a bowl of hard candy, and framed pictures of Emma, he said, "But close the door and sit with me for a spell, will you?"

Warily, Jason turned around and did as asked, his palm lingering on the stained wood. The last time his dad asked him to "sit for a spell," he had been nine and about to be reamed for pantsing his cousin at a crawfish boil. The same feeling he got then-and the one he still got right before he ran into a burning building-began churning in his gut. But this was why he had sought his father out. To see what was going on in that noggin of his. So he took a seat on the armrest of a wingback chair and asked again, "You sure everything's all right?"

His father nodded wordlessly, focusing on a point just above Jason's head. He pinched his pursed lips between thick fingers. The second hand on the mounted trout clock ticked ten times, then in a thoughtful voice, his father broke the silence.

"I loved Ashleigh like she was my own daughter."

The muscles in Jason's back tensed. And the churning feeling in his stomach escalated. Of all the things that could've come out his old man's mouth, he never would've expected that.

It's not that he doubted his father's sincerity-he had treated Ashleigh like a daughter. But in the last four years, Jason couldn't recall a single conversation his father had initiated about her.

Where is he going with this?

His father's clear eyes met his. "She was a good woman, son. A strong woman. And this family will always miss her."

Now it was Jason's turn to nod, his throat closing like it did every time talk turned to his wife. Swallowing past the emotion, he said, "I know, Dad. And Ashleigh would've loved being there today." His lips tugged into a smile, picturing it.

His wife had been the proudest, most involved mom he'd ever seen. And that was saying a lot, since his gave the mother on Everybody Loves Raymond a run for her money. But from the day Emma had entered kindergarten, Ashleigh had been the cla.s.s mom. She'd been the go-to helper when the teachers needed anything. A story reader, field trip chaperone, cla.s.s play organizer. She'd made it a priority to enroll Emma in every activity their daughter showed a remote interest in, and she never missed a single cla.s.s, game, or performance. When she died, along with leaving him with a broken heart, Ashleigh had left behind impossible shoes to fill, especially for a single parent. But Jason had done his best to fill them. And he'd done a d.a.m.n good job, too.

He never missed a game or performance, either. He signed up for more than his share of field trip duty. And he even learned how to sew so he could add Emma's Girl Scout patches to her uniform. Sure, his mom could've done it, but he wanted to. He hated asking for more help than was absolutely necessary. His parents already pitched in enough, watching her during his all-day shifts, driving her to and from school, and helping with her homework. It was hard enough being a firefighter with two parents at home much less with only one, but somehow he and Emma had made it work.

But now, Jason was ready to move past simply making it work. He was finally ready to give Emma the life that a drug addict stole from her four years ago.

Suddenly eager to be back in the kitchen, cooking beside his daughter and staring into Colby's smoldering eyes, Jason stood and gestured toward the door. "Well, I just wanted to check in." He took a step in the direction of the exit. "But we have company so I guess I should-"

"Son, wait a minute."

Jason exhaled. Apparently, there was more to the man's strange mood than thoughts of Ashleigh. His father rose from the chair, his bushy eyebrows drawn together. As he walked around the desk, Jason sank into the worn out cushion of the upholstered chair. "All right, Dad. Something is obviously bothering you." He swiped a Wild Cherry Life Saver from the gla.s.s candy dish in front of him and propped his ankle on his knee, feeling like a skipping track on Emma's iPod as he asked again, "What's going on?"

s.n.a.t.c.hing a b.u.t.ter Rum candy from the bowl, his father popped it into his mouth and chomped loudly, breaking it into tiny pieces as his fingers played absently with the plastic wrapper. "You know your mother worries about you," he said, dropping the bomb as if it was common knowledge. Actually, Jason hadn't known that. But he probably should have. The woman worried about everything. Then the old man scratched the side of his neck and added gruffly, "We both do."

His father coughed and looked away-but not before Jason saw the unmistakable sheen in his eyes. It would've been less jarring if the man had punched him, though the effect would feel about the same. He watched his father push to his feet and stride toward the window overlooking the backyard.

Centered in the blind-covered frame stood a large oak tree, his dad's favorite hammock swaying below it in the late spring breeze. His childhood tree house was perched high above that. Jason still remembered everything about the summer he and his dad built it. For weeks, they'd poured over design books, choosing the perfect model and then selecting just the right wood. They had gathered materials, talked strategy, and set to work putting it together. While they labored, they'd discussed "manly" things: the correct tool for the job, LSU and Saints football, girls, and even school-but never anything deeper than that. In fact, other than the time his father held his newborn granddaughter in the hospital or slapped Jason's back at Ashleigh's funeral, this was the most emotion he'd ever seen his father express.

"When you and Ashleigh first came to me, saying you wanted to get married and raise Emma, I had my concerns." He flicked a slat of the blinds, for all appearances consumed with the blades of gra.s.s in his lawn. "I knew you were doing the right thing, but in many ways you were children yourselves. A marriage needs more than just attraction. It takes commitment and love. The kind of love that can endure a hurricane and still stand come morning. To be frank, I wasn't sure the two of you had it. But you proved me wrong. That girl loved you, and I know you loved her." He released the blind caught between his fingers. "I could see it when you looked at her."

When his father turned, the cloud that had overshadowed him all afternoon lifted as a relieved smile broke across his face. "That same look was in your eyes today."

Jason's eyebrows snapped together. Of course he loved Emma. Was that supposed to be a revelation? He asked his father as much, but the old man didn't answer. He just kept watching him with a strange look of annoying, unprecedented patience. Then after a moment, the meaning behind his words finally sank in.

"Wait, you think I'm in love with Colby?"

His father shrugged a shoulder. A shade of uncertainty crept into his tone as he said, "I admit I thought it was rather soon. You've only become acquainted again for a couple weeks-"

"Eleven days," Jason cut in.

The whiskers framing his mouth twitched. "Eleven days," he amended. "But the heart doesn't always work on a timetable. And besides, you've known Colby a long time. The two of you did grow up together."

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering what in the h.e.l.l was happening. His emotion-free dad was talking about the heart, for G.o.d's sake. What would the old man do for an encore, quote Oprah?

Through the crack in the door, Jason could smell sauteed bell peppers and onions. He could be out there, sampling whatever it was the women were cooking, and pretending this entire conversation had never happened. His legs twitched with the desire to bolt. But he owed it to his normally tightlipped father to hear him out-even if what he was saying was completely ridiculous.

His father steepled his fingers and studied him. "Listen son, life dealt you a h.e.l.l of a hand. It takes time to recover from something like that. But you deserve to be happy." His voice grew thick with meaning as he added, "And so does my granddaughter."

Of all the things he said, those words rankled. Jason shot to his feet. No s.h.i.t, Emma deserved to be happy. That was why he'd started thinking about marriage again in the first place. Everything he did was for his daughter.

From his perch beside the window, his father watched silently as Jason paced the length of the room.

There was no doubt that over the last week and a half, Colby had made a difference in their lives. She'd been there during the debacle at the convenience store. She'd offered Emma advice that no amount of book reading would've prepared Jason to give. And she'd given his daughter a much needed role model. As for him, Colby had brought him to life again. She made him laugh, turned him on, and had him feeling things he hadn't felt in years-but that didn't include love. It couldn't.

Right?

Jason shoved a hand through his hair. After Ashleigh died, his heart had closed itself off. It wasn't something he'd consciously tried to do, it just happened. Self-preservation. He a.s.sumed it would always stay that way. That he would want it to stay that way. But could his father be right?

Jason admired Colby. He desired her. They had a level of comfort with each other that could take him years to develop with someone else, and for the kind of marriage he wanted, there was no woman in the world who fit him better. She was great with Emma, and his daughter adored her... But did all that mean he could fall for her?

More than the voice in his head screaming yes, his father's reputation had him wavering. In the Magnolia Springs fire department, Robert Landry's shrewd, astute observations were stuff of legend. In an emergency or pressure situation, he'd been the guy people turned to. He was always able to size up a problem in moments and make a judgment call. And 99.9 percent of the time, those decisions had been dead on. They had saved lives. But in this case, if his father was right, all of Jason's plans were up in smoke.

During their camping trip, she'd made it more than clear that she wasn't looking for love. She didn't believe in it. If by some miracle Jason did find a way to break through Colby's barriers, and help her heal from the past, it was possible she'd consider sticking around for the future. One that could involve him and Emma. But there was no guarantee she'd ever fall for him. Or welcome him loving her...if he even did.

He came to a stop in front of his father. "You do realize people don't fall for each other at the drop of a hat, right? Not outside of Hollywood." And especially not people like me.

His father chuckled. "Maybe they don't." Then he placed a solid hand on Jason's shoulder and said, "But son, I saw the way you looked at her."

Chapter Ten.

Colby glanced at her future conquest from the pa.s.senger side of his truck. The neon light from LeJeune's bakery illuminated Jason's abnormally rigid jaw, reminding her he'd barely said two words since they'd left his parents' house. And they hadn't really had a chance to talk much before then, either. Every time Colby had felt remotely brave enough to bring up kicking off their summer fling tonight, there had been an adolescent or parental ear around, ready to overhear her pitiful attempts at flirtation. Not exactly the start she'd envisioned for her s.e.xy night of seduction.

But now they were alone. Thoughts of what could lie ahead sent the heat inside the already toasty truck skyrocketing. I can do this. So he hadn't brought it up since the night of the camping trip. She could take the bull by the horns, so to speak. Women did this sort of thing every day, right? The whole 'equal opportunity, female empowerment, we are women hear us roar' jazz. She leaned her face into the stream of cool air coming from the vent. Sadly, right now she felt less like the siren she needed to be, and closer to throwing up.

Why was she so nervous? She even had a ringing endors.e.m.e.nt from above. When it came time for her to leave and her cute, unreliable car had sputtered, groaned, and then died a horrible death, she'd figured it had to be a divine blessing on her plans. The unexpected vehicular demise required Jason to bring her home after all. Granted, the nuns in Sunday school had always given the impression that booty calls were frowned upon; but perhaps, in this case, heaven had made an exception for the pathetic.

Jason drummed an erratic beat on the steering wheel, matching the thrum of her nerves. His grumpy look wasn't helping. But as her little sister always said, sometimes you have to fake it to make it. And in this case, Colby definitely wanted to make it. So, after another block of silence, she manned up, poured on the bravado, and asked, "You okay there, Captain?"

The brief smile he shot her was more like it. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thank G.o.d, because the bad mood vibe so wasn't cutting it as an aphrodisiac.

Then he added, "It's just been a long day. Guess I'm more tired than I thought." And the knotted muscles in Colby's stomach clenched back up again.

An exhausted seductee didn't really scream let's get it on, either.

But one doesn't become the owner of a popular, thriving restaurant in Vegas by letting a little complication get in her way. Grabbing hold of her deflating hopes for the evening, Colby scooted as close to Jason as the dang seat belt would allow and called upon every ounce of dormant vixen power she had.

"You sure that's all it is?" she purred, or rather, attempted to purr in his ear. No one in her right mind would actually call the strange, breathy rumble that came out of her mouth a purr. Lord, I'm bad at this. Slipping her fingers under the collar of his dress shirt, she forged ahead. "Because you seem awfully tense, and it just so happens that I know an excellent way to release tension."

Jason laughed under his breath. "I don't doubt that for a second."

She began kneading the taut muscles of his neck and a low noise emanated from the back of his throat. He pressed into her fingers. Feeling daring, she sc.r.a.ped her nails across his skin and his breath hissed through his teeth. Oh yeah, Jason wanted her. A thrill ran down her spine. But before she could give herself a mental high-five or begin planning tonight's lingerie ensemble, he mumbled, "d.a.m.n, I'd love to take you up on that offer."