Taste the Heat (17 page)

She beamed. “Hey, maybe you and Jason can double with us next weekend. We can go see
a movie or something.”

And there went Colby’s thoughts, straight back to the sexy fire captain. So much for
her distraction.

Nodding, she picked up her drink. “Yeah, maybe.” She took a long, extended sip and
shook her head at the sharp punch of tequila. Coughing, she shoved away from the table
and grabbed Sherry’s hand. “You know what, though? You’re right, tonight
does
feel like a dancing night.”

Surprise lit her sister’s eyes. “Really?”

“Yep,” she said, popping her lips around the word. “Let’s do this thing.”

Out on the dance floor, Colby chased her distraction, grinding to the beat of “Country
Girl.” Her hands flew over her head. She tossed her hair and spun Sherry in a circle.
Skimming her hands over her hips, she shook them like the lyrics directed. To her
sister’s delight, Colby broke into the Carlton, the Running Man, even the MC Hammer.
She tried getting Sherry to do the Kid ‘n’ Play, but Sherry was too busy cracking
up. Colby didn’t mind—she was having fun. The few sips of her drink combined with
the music had a warm tingle spreading across her skin and for the life of her, she
couldn’t remember why she’d hated dancing so much. The bar didn’t have a mirror on
the dance floor, which was a damn shame, but she was positive she looked absolutely
fabulous
.

Everywhere Colby looked, couples were dry humping themselves into oblivion. A particularly
amorous man to her right had his date bent so far backward she felt voyeuristic sharing
the same dance space.

She wiggled her eyebrows in the direction of the couple and screamed into Sherry’s
ear, “Guess we know who
she’s
shaking it for tonight.”

Her sister laughed. She moved behind them and made a half-obscene but completely humorous
gesture, setting off another round of giggles. Yep, Colby was definitely feeling good.

The song ended and another began. She exhaled and closed her eyes, wishing Jason were
there. If his performance last night was any indication, the man had moves. She could
picture him slinging his arm around her waist, drawing her close as he swiveled those
delectable hips. She smiled…then lost her balance as someone bumped her from behind.
Eyes still closed, Colby threw her arms out in a blind lunge, and latched onto the
couple playing tonsil hockey.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as the man lifted his head, probably as much for air as from
her groping him. “Some idiot—” She broke off as the two of them locked eyes. Colby
froze, the happy vibes she’d been feeling instantly dissipating.

Oh, shit.

Chapter Fifteen

“How could I be so fucking
stupid
?”

Sherry’s pained question came out as an accusation, and it broke Colby’s heart. Handing
over a hot bowl of gumbo, their mama’s guaranteed cure for anything, she wanted nothing
more than to drive right back to 985, rip the frizzy hair out of the other woman’s
head, and use it to string up Ben “the two-timing asshat” by the gonads. It had been
years since she’d gone Mama Bear on anyone for hurting her little sister, but her
claws were just as sharp as when they were kids. And after listening to Sherry cry
for the last hour, she was itching to use them.

“You weren’t stupid, Sherry. You trusted him.
He’s
the jerk here.”

Colby had been saying variations of the same thing ever since they left the club,
but her sister still wasn’t listening. She was fixated on the fact that Ben had claimed
he had homework to do, and she’d believed him.

Evidently,
homework
was a skanky blonde with two-inch roots.

Sherry blew her nose and dropped another Kleenex in the wastebasket. “I really thought
things were different with him, you know? I thought we were getting serious. Either
I was lying to myself or I’m an idiot, but either way, I’m pathetic.” She yanked another
tissue from the box and lifted her head. Biting her lip she asked, “Do you think she
was prettier than I am?”

“Are you shitting me?” Her sister’s mouth dropped at the profanity. Colby wasn’t big
on cursing, especially aloud, but if there was ever a good time for it, this was it.
“Sher, you’re freaking gorgeous. You’re sexy and fun and have a heart bigger than
Lake Pontchartrain. If Ben can’t appreciate that, then you’re better off. Trust me.
That girl he was with tonight ain’t got nothing on you, babe. It’s his loss.”

Sherry rolled her eyes as she dug her giant spoon into the steaming bowl. Stirring
the thick stew until she had the perfect proportion of sausage, okra, rice, and broth,
she mumbled, “Well, you’re my sister, so you kinda have to say that.”

Colby snorted. “No, as your sister I should hightail it to that club and go Lorena
Bobbitt on his ass.” She pulled back her sister’s comforter and slid in beside her.
“But then I’d be arrested, you’d be alone, and Robicheaux’s would be without a head
chef again. So instead, I’ll stay here and just envision going chop happy. Besides,
once Cane hears about this, Ben’s gonna wish it’d been me playing fast and loose with
a cleaver.”

The spoon Sherry had lifted stopped in mid-air, her big brown eyes full of sudden
panic. “Oh God, Cane’s gonna go caveman on his ass, isn’t he?” Colby nodded with glee,
imagining the fierce, dark look she’d only seen a few times on her brother’s face.
Most days, he was like a giant teddy bear. A sarcastic, slightly arrogant teddy bear,
but a teddy bear. But when it came to the people he loved, the man lived up to his
bad boy looks and then some. Sherry shoved another heaping spoonful in her mouth,
swallowed, and pushed the bowl back into Colby’s hands. “I can’t eat anymore. Can
you save this for me?”

Colby’s eyebrows furrowed as she set the barely touched bowl on the cluttered nightstand.
“Sure, honey.”

More than the dark smudges beneath her eyes, or the runny trails of mascara on her
cheeks, her sister’s unprecedented lack of appetite revealed how truly devastated
she was. Colby wished the magic words would appear that could somehow make this right,
or at least make it more bearable. But she guessed magic, like fairy tales, didn’t
really exist.

A small voice inside her head whispered,
See? You were right.

Neither of them hungry, they sat together in silence for a long time, each lost in
their own set of demons. The
drip
of Sherry’s leaky faucet filled the quiet. Colby ran her fingers through her sister’s
multi-hued hair until eventually her swollen eyelids grew heavy. She waited until
the sound of her breaths evened, and then she carefully slid from under the comforter.

Walking down the hallway to her own bedroom, Colby clutched her hands at her waist.
The ruby ring her mother had left her sat heavy on her right hand. She twisted it
and closed her eyes. Times like this, she really needed her mom.

They’d never spoken about her father’s infidelity. Colby doubted she ever found out.
The few times she’d come home over the years, her parents had always seemed happy—a
lie that often infuriated her. If they were so happy together, then why did he have
to cheat? He’d made her mother look like a fool, blindly trusting the man she’d loved.

Colby couldn’t help but wonder: if her mother were still alive, what words of wisdom
would she offer Sherry tonight? And if she knew the truth about her husband, would
she honor that same advice?

Soft light from the bedside lamp spilled over Colby’s cell phone and she picked it
up. Sinking onto the mattress, her finger hesitated over Jason’s name. She didn’t
know what she wanted to say. She didn’t know what she wanted to hear. She only knew
she had to speak with him. Remind herself that Jason wasn’t Ben. That he wasn’t her
ex or her father. He was one of the good ones—the few good ones.

With a deep breath, she tapped his name.

Ring.

“Come on, Jason. Answer your phone.”

Ring.

Her heart pounded as if her life depended on them speaking. If not her life, her sanity
certainly did.

Ring.

Then, mercifully, his phone picked up.

“Oh, thank God. Jason, hey, I—”

You’ve reached Jason Landry, captain of the Magnolia Springs Fire Department. I’m
sorry I missed your call…

Colby flung the phone across the bed, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. Anxiety
rushed her veins. Her stupid stomach churned and clawed at itself. She was acting
irrationally, she knew. Jason had done nothing wrong. Yet it was as if time reversed
twelve years. Every doubt, every insecurity she’d felt back then had returned, fiercer
than ever. She
had
to speak with him. There was no way in hell she’d get any rest tonight until she
did.

It was only eleven. A perk of being the head chef was expediting orders on the weekends.
It was hellish and crazy, ensuring every dish was perfect and run to the tables efficiently,
but it meant even on a slammed night she was often out by eight. Any other night she’d
have gone home, put up her aching feet, and drank a half-bottle of wine in front of
the television. Tonight, however, she’d managed to go clubbing, witness the destruction
of her sister’s love life, and watch her cry herself to sleep, all before
The Tonight Show
even came on.

Her world had tipped on its axis in a matter of hours. Somehow, that didn’t seem possible.
But it was.

Colby pushed to her feet and began pacing the length of her room. Her skin felt tight,
like the ickiness of the night was trying to escape through her pores.

Where is he?

After another minute wondering, imagining every possible worst-case scenario, she
grabbed her keys. Any trace of alcohol in her system from those few small sips had
burned out long ago. Pocketing her phone, she marched back out into the hallway. Staying
here would only make her stir-crazy. And wear a hole through the rented carpet. She
checked on a still sleeping Sherry, jotted a quick note on the kitchen white board,
and bolted to her car.

The first place she’d check would be the gym. It was closest to the house and she
thought that maybe he had a class to teach. If his truck wasn’t there, she’d drive
by his house, then his parents’, then the station.

Yep, she was in full-on stalker mode. She could admit it. But she
had
to see him.

Her first easy breath entered her lungs at the corner of Wisteria. Jason’s truck sat
parked below the sign for Northshore Combatives. Her hands shook on the wheel as she
turned in beside him. Soon, she’d be back in his arms and the knot in her stomach
would unfurl. The ghosts of her past would disappear and she’d slam the door again
on all her doubts. Hopefully Emma was at a sleepover or at her grandparents’, because
right about now the only thought in Colby’s head was dragging that man back to his
house, tearing off his clothes, and forgetting this whole night ever happened.

As she walked purposefully toward the entrance, she was aware there were a few cars
still in the parking lot. She wasn’t sure how many, didn’t really care. She was willing
to stay as long as it took to close up, as long as she was with him. She yanked open
the door, a blast of cold air hitting her in the face, and stopped in the middle of
an empty room.

The front desk where she’d first met Emma was deserted. Colby glanced around, unsure
of where to go next. The place was freaking huge. Muffled noises—people talking and
the muted beat of music—came from somewhere, but in front of her loomed nothing but
a sea of unused cardio equipment. She dug her phone back out, ready to try calling
him again, when salvation came in the form of a sweaty man with a towel slung over
his shoulders. He rounded the corner of the stairs and stooped to get a drink from
the water fountain. Colby attacked.

“Excuse me,” she called, aware as she marched over that her voice was bordering on
frantic. “Do you know where I can find Jason Landry?”

The guy stood, wiping his mouth as his bright green eyes trailed down her body. “He’s
in one of the classes finishing upstairs.”
Oh, thank God.
The clawing ache of the last half-hour was almost over. Relief flowed through her
as he indicated the stairwell behind him with a tilt of his head. “But I’d be happy
to offer
my
services for anything that you need.” He jerked his chin up and winked.

Ew.

And grr.

Couldn’t this dude see she was in a tizzy here? Did he really think
now
would be the best time to hit on her…and with a cheesy line no less?

Somehow, she refrained from visually cringing—the man did help her after all. And
with eyes already trained on the stairs behind him, she even offered a thin-lipped
smile. “Thanks, but I really just need Jason. It’s kind of an emergency.”

The way her body was starting to shake, that felt about right.

With a strange flutter in her belly, she dashed toward the stairs.

…

A good workout always got Jason’s blood pumping. Two-plus hours of drills and intense
groundwork left his body depleted and covered in sweat—but it was a natural high.
If he couldn’t spend time with Colby, this was where he wanted to be. Nothing beat
the euphoria of leaving it all out on the mat. Pushing his body past its limits. And
for another night, knowing he did his part to honor Ashleigh’s memory.

A soft cough shocked the hell out of him. He’d thought he was alone. Capping his water
bottle, he glanced back, surprised to find Angelle. “What’s up?” he asked, grabbing
his towel from the floor.

“I’m still not confident about escaping from the bottom,” she said, bouncing on her
toes. She reached up and yanked her ponytail. “Could you maybe, um, show me again?”

Jason wiped the sweat off his face and arms, considering the question. The woman was
an enigma. Vulnerability was practically stamped on her forehead. Half the time she
couldn’t finish a sentence around him without stammering. Yet despite being the only
woman in the class, she’d handled the drills he’d thrown them remarkably well. Watching
her
shrimp
across the floor tonight, he could almost imagine Ashleigh there doing the same.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Angelle had her own reasons for joining the class. Her
completely unrequited crush was becoming a hassle at work, and he’d done everything
he could to let her down gently. But he rarely had female members take his class.
They joined the gym for the cardio equipment, or signed up for aerobics. That class
was great—hell, he’d hired the best—but this could offer so much more.

An idea came to him, and Jason smiled. “Sure,” he said, tossing the towel into his
bag. “But let’s take it a step further. We can actually apply the same principles
to sexual assault defense. I offer a seminar every few months based on something I
got from Gracie Jiu-Jitsu, but the basics align with this class, too. Get down on
the mat, I’ll show you.”

A blush stole across Angelle’s pale skin as she sank to the ground. “Yes, sir.”

He held back a sigh as he joined her. This woman certainly stretched him as an instructor.
But if he could cut through her misguided attempts at flirtation and find a way to
empower her, then it would all be worth it.

“In a real life assault,” he began, “a predator has one objective: to control you.
Your goal is to convince him he’s done just that. If you can get him to relax his
grip for one moment, you have a shot of escape. This class is about defense at all
costs, and employing deception is a big part of that. Feigning surrender is a valuable
tactic. So you’re gonna learn it. Get in position.”

Angelle’s blush spread as she bent her knees and spread them apart. Jason glanced
at the door. It was wishful thinking that Cane would suddenly appear, fresh from the
shower in the locker room. This was something his friend would love to help with,
but it looked as though Cane was taking his sweet-ass time—and this skill was important.

Sliding between her bent knees, Jason locked Angelle’s hips between his elbows and
slipped his hands around her shoulders. Pretending not to notice her sharp intake
of breath, he instructed, “Now, try to shrimp out.”

She gave a few halfhearted attempts. “I can’t. I couldn’t get it in class, either.”

Her voice was winded. He hoped that at least a part of that was from her sense of
fight or flight kicking in. That was what he loved about teaching. Giving people a
chance to experience real-life scenarios in a safe environment…and hopefully learn
lessons they’d never have to use.