JakesWildBride (4 page)

The Porsche whizzed by a green highway sign touting New Orleans, forty miles.

“Did it help?”

“Yeah. Until I woke up the next morning.” Jake thought about waking up with Lilah in the morning. Bad place to go. He'd screwed Tommy over once. He'd promised to take care of Lilah. That didn't mean acting on the sexual thoughts that kept invading his brain.

“Let’s do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“The sign back there said New Orleans was only forty miles away. Let’s go. We can get drunk there.” Lilah crossed her arms over her perfect breasts and smiled serenely.

“We can’t go there."

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“I’ve never been to New Orleans.”

“Never?” Of course, this never reminded Jake of the other never. Never had sex with Tom. Never been to New Orleans. Hmm. The New Orleans
never
could be changed.

His conscience tried to bite him. This was so a bad idea.

“Please,” she whispered.

He thought about his parent’s empty house waiting for him back in town. He really didn’t want to face those memories just yet. If he could put it off for another few hours, why not? He had promised Tom he’d take care of her. It would help Lilah out.

“Okay.”

But no way, no how, was he going to touch her. Absolutely not.

***

Lilah stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk on Bourbon Street and forced herself to pay more attention to where she put her feet. But, goodness, it was difficult.

The crowd of people was like a living, writhing throng, moving and dancing, laughing and drinking, to the music that poured out of bars lining the street. She couldn’t wait to actually go inside one. Neon lights flashed and winked. Heat rose from the black pavement and mingled with the sweat and perfume of the crowd, the sweetness of Hurricanes and the heady scent of rum. The sights, sounds, and sheer craziness intoxicated her.

“I’m drunk,” she shouted. Lilah threw up her hands and whirled around, the rayon of her skirt swished sensuously against the bare skin of her legs.

No one paid any attention.

Jake grabbed her arm, and pulled her out of the way of a trio of sloppy college boys.

“You’re a cheap date.” He grinned. “I hate to see what happens when you actually have a drink.”

Lilah twirled around again, reveling in the freeing sensation. Maybe if she just gave in to the wildness plaguing her in one short, violent burst she could go back to town and act properly. Act like a lady and not give in to the temptation to do something really awful and wild. The only one who would know would be Jake. And he was leaving town.

“I want to go in every place here,” she demanded. Her veil swung back in her face and she brushed at the netting impatiently.

“Why don’t you take that thing off?”

“Because.” As long as she had the veil on she was protected. She knew it was stupid. But that’s how she felt. Everything that had happened to her tonight had happened with the veil on. She had the insane urge to believe that whatever happened with the veil on, she could wake up in the morning and it would all be one big dream. She would wake up in her own bed and start getting ready for her wedding to Tom.

“It’s silly.” Lilah bit her bottom lip.

“What’s silly?” Jake pulled her into a darkened doorway.

“If I take the veil off, it all becomes real.” The truth about her life would hit her and she would have to face it. She wasn’t getting married tomorrow.

Jake brushed the netting back from her face. “I guess you’d better leave it on then.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward a dark bar. And she knew she must have imagined that moment of tenderness. Jake Forrest didn’t do tender. He did wild. Wasn’t that why she was here with him?

They walked into the bar through one of the sets of double French doors open wide to the street. Ceiling fans twirled lazily, churning warm, tepid air into the crowd. No one paid any mind to the heat. Everyone focused on the blues band on the makeshift stage.

Lilah listened to the mocha-skinned woman croon about love and loss, and felt a curious emptiness.

Jake leaned close and whispered in her ear. “You okay?” His warm breath tickled her neck. And she shivered.

Why hadn’t she ever felt that shiver when Tom whispered in her ear?

“I am.” Or she would be. She would be okay. Lilah knew in that moment, with the drifting scent of cigarette smoke, the intoxicating scent of rum, and the sultry tones of the blues singer surrounding her that she would be okay. It wasn’t the first time someone had found her wanting. She would deal with it, the same way she always had. She would pick herself up and go on. But for now she was going to have fun.

Lilah gulped down the sweet drink and reached for Jake. “Let’s go someplace where we can dance.”

Jake took a long pull on his drink, then set it down on the bar. “This is New Orleans. We can dance anywhere.”

He pulled her toward him. Lilah lost her balance for a moment, and fell flush against his body, her breasts pushed into the solid muscles of his chest.

Jake’s arms wrapped around her and held her up. Their thighs bumped together awkwardly. Jake shifted at the same time she did. The move brought them into alignment and intimately pressed their bodies together.

The rum from her Hurricane spread languorously through her body, like a warm river of molten sensation, leaving her a little dizzy and the tiniest bit aroused by his nearness.

“Oh my, you feel good,” Lilah murmured huskily and tried to snuggle closer.

“Lilah.” Jake shifted desperate to put a little room between Lilah’s generous chest and his body. Christ, she could move. She swayed like a siren temptress and his body was all too willing to be tempted. If he didn’t put some room between himself and Lilah, she’d find out soon enough that he was solid as a rock.

“I haven’t had sex in six years.”

He’d been trying to forget that little bit of information. Jake spun her away from him in a shag dance. “Let’s go someplace else.”

“Okay,” she smiled dreamily.

“Lilah. Are you okay?”

“I could use another drink.”

“How about some food.”

“Nope. Not hungry for food.” She all but leered at him.

Christ. Jake tossed back his Hurricane and dragged her out of the bar. They needed to find a place that had good loud rock and roll playing. Then he could stay out of trouble.

I am a good person. I am a good person.
Jake chanted the words over and over again, silently. Nothing was going to happen. After all, they were in a public place. What could happen?

Lilah dragged him down the street toward Marie Laveau’s
House of Voodoo
.

“Oh look, maybe I should have my fortune told.”

Jake steered her away from fortune telling. All they needed was more bad mojo.

“Let’s go in here.” He gestured to the giant cat’s eyes on the sign.
The Cat’s Meow
. Bruce Springsteen blared out of speakers in the doorway. Nice, loud rock and roll. This was perfect.

“Okay.”

They walked into the bar, and a waitress shouted at Jake and Lilah. “You’re here just in time. Names?” She waited impatiently with a pad of paper and pencil.

“Lilah and Jake.” Lilah peered over at the pad of paper. “Um, can I have another drink, please?”

The waitress grabbed a full Hurricane off the bar and shoved the glass into Lilah’s hand and held out her palm to Jake. “Ten bucks.”

“Ten dollars?” Lilah’s eyes widened as Jake handed the waitress the money. “That’s outrageous.”

“Yeah but a little NOLA courage never hurt. Follow me.”

The waitress wiggled her little cattail at them. Jake looked at Lilah and shrugged. They followed the waitress.

Up on the stage, a woman clutched a bouquet of silk flowers and the man wore a black top hat. The couple, who had obviously had a little too much happy juice, swayed, singing to ‘Fire’.

Karaoke. She must have promised major favors, Jake thought, to get that guy on stage.

They twisted through the rowdy crowd, who screamed encouragement and boos by turns. When they got to the other side of the bar, the waitress shoved a sheet of paper into Jake’s hands.

“That’s the list. Make your choice and let Boomer know.”

She gestured toward a massive black guy wearing a leather vest and studded leather dog collar.

Lilah turned back toward Jake.

“No.” No way, no how was he getting on stage.

“Please,” she wheedled. “I’ve had a really bad day.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Be your best friend.” She bit her bottom lip with her teeth and he groaned. How could he resist that face?

“Lilah--"

“No one will see us.”

“Oh no. You’re the one who’s so concerned about what people think. That’s what I would be saying if I wanted to do this, which I don’t.”

“But, I’ve never done this before and I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Another never,” he said in defeat.

Well, he guessed he could give her two out of three ‘nevers’.

Lilah loved to sing.

Had always loved to sing. But her father and aunt had insisted the only place for voices raised in song was in the church. So, she joyfully sang hymns in the choir, and belted out pop songs in the shower and car when no one else was around to hear her.

And she loved it.

Lilah breathed in deep and held her breath waiting for Jake’s answer. They could let go, dance and sing around the stage, and no one would ever know.

She couldn’t say why she wanted to do this so much. Perhaps because she’d been quelling the impulse to do something totally wild for so long.

She set down her drink and clasped her hands together. “Please.”

“Okay.”

“Yes!” She laughed jubilantly. Lilah threw her arms around Jake’s neck and hugged him. She shouted in his ear, “Thank you.”

His arms wrapped around her body and pulled her out of the way of several women tottering past on too high heels.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

The stubble from his beard rasped along the sensitive skin of her neck. And Lilah breathed in the warm clean scent of Jake that was distinctly male and distinctly him. How could she already know his scent?

Suddenly Lilah realized they were pressed up against each other. The hard planes of his chest cushioned her breasts, his wide palm slid down to rest in the curve of her back and a shiver of pleasure arced through her. Jake’s arms curved around her, harboring her. She felt loved and protected. But she knew it was an illusion.

“We need to look at the list.” Lilah pulled back slowly, letting her hands slide down Jake’s arms, reluctant to break contact with him.

“You can pick.” Jake flicked a glance at the list, his gaze avoided hers. “Looks like a good Amy Grant song.”

Lilah murmured something noncommittal. She loved Amy Grant, but she wasn’t about to waste this chance at wildness on something so tame. She ran her finger down the list of songs, looking for an artist she liked. And found the song almost immediately.

Melissa Etheridge.

Lilah wrote down the cue number and the title of the song and handed it to Boomer. She stood with Jake behind a giant speaker now blasting Cher.

Two men were on the stage. Both wore black leather vests over bare chests and garters around their bare arms. The very suggestive bump and grind routine they were performing made Lilah blush. The air shook with the sound of the bass. The deep rumble vibrated through her body and excitement fizzled in her blood as the men finished to rousing cheers and exited the stage.

“Okay folks. Our last couple up is Lilah and Jake. Let’s give them a big round of applause.”

“I’ll take the first verse. You take the second. We both do the chorus.” She faltered, then asked over the clapping. “Can you sing?”

“It’s kinda late to ask isn’t it?” Jake laughed. “Don’t worry. I get by.”

Lilah bit her bottom lip. Jake’s gaze flashed to her mouth, then he gripped her hand and pulled her up the steps to the stage.

After she bounded up next to him, he whispered, “Just pretend you’re in the shower.”

She stared in surprise. Jake shrugged. “It’s what I used to do for board meetings.”

Boomer handed her the microphone. The thought of Jake in the shower caused her blood pressure to spike and she was so busy thinking about him naked, she forgot to be nervous when the acoustic guitar thrummed in the air.

Okay, she could do this. And what fun it would be. Lilah faced the audience and let her hips sway to the rocking drum beat, let the music surround her. She would show Tom.

She gripped the microphone with both hands and closed her eyes concentrating on the feeling behind the words. She sang her heart out, telling Tom that she was the only one. She belted out her anger and frustration. She would have walked through fire for him. But when she sang of desire, it was Jake’s face in her mind not Tom’s.