“Oh, so you just give her your name as if it’s nothing, but I had to agree to be a part of your little gentleman’s club world before you introduced yourself to me?” It was true, she been allowed to know me until after she’d agreed upon coming onboard. It was just a form of torture that I took pleasure in, especially with a mouthy one like Goldie.

Keeping my eyes on Lyla, I answered, “It’s not my club.”

Growing more frustrated by the minute, Goldie broke the electric pull between Lyla and me by poking Lyla in the side. “Why the hell are you here?”

Slowly turning away from me, she held out a magazine to Goldie. “Just delivering the news.”

Fuck!

I quickly reached for the magazine, but Goldie’s little paws were quicker than mine, and she snatched the magazine from Lyla before I could.

“Give me that,” I said sternly.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked as she jumped up on her bed, distancing herself from me.

Not wanting to play her games, I walked over to her, grabbed both her legs, and pulled them out from under her, making her fall ass first onto the mattress. I grabbed the magazine from her, rolled it up, and stuffed it in the back of my jeans.

“Hey, that’s mine!” she said while trying to regain her balance.

“Call Jett,” I said to Goldie, and then I eyed Lyla up and down and said, “Let her call Jett.”

“Give me your number, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Her gaze spoke future promises if I did.

“Say nothing, and I’ll think about giving it to you,” I teased, wondering who the fuck the man was who was living in my skin right now.

“Good enough for me,” Lyla responded as she followed me out of Goldie’s room.

“Traitor!” Goldie shouted as I shut her door.

Lyla walked in front of me as we descended the stairs. The minute we exited the back door, the thick Louisiana air hit me hard. Lyla stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, her hands in her back pockets, and spun around to face me. Her breasts were propped up from the position of her hands, making it impossible to look away.

“Do you have any plans?” Lyla asked, looking confident and sexy.

“No,” I responded, running my hand through my hair.

“Treat me to lunch?”

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you to think I would buy you lunch.”

She gave me the once-over, a smirk crossing her lips. “By the way you eye-fucked me upstairs, pretty sure you’ll be buying me lunch. Let’s go, beefcake. I’m hungry.”

Without me agreeing to her terms, she grabbed my hand and started walking me toward Jackson Square. I should have known Lyla would be trouble. She was friends with Goldie, and right now, it was looking like Lyla was more of a sassy counterpart than Goldie.

If that was the case, I was in for a world of trouble.

***

I sat back in my chair at the café and studied Lyla as she placed some sugar in her tea. She stirred the straw in her cup and her eyes shone bright. She leaned forward, her legs crossed under the table, her toe dancing intimately with my knee, letting me know she was close enough that if I wanted to make a scene, I could grab her from across the table and pull her onto my lap.

“Tell me, Kace, what’s your story.”

“Not much of a story to tell,” I responded vaguely. I didn’t know this woman. Therefore I wasn’t about to tell her about my life, especially given my horrid past.

“Enlighten me,” she smiled.

“Tell me about your life first,” I countered.

Her smile turned into a knowing smirk. “All right. No questions about the past.”

From her brush-off, I could tell she was hiding something as well, but I wasn’t about to pressure her to tell me because I’d just gotten a free pass. I wasn’t about to have it taken away.

“Fine with me,” I responded as we came to a standoff.

Our waitress brought over our food, replenished our drinks, and then took off. Lyla got a shrimp po’boy, same as me. I was impressed with her candidness about eating in front of a guy, ordering a sandwich just as big as mine. Most women I ate with were dainty with their meals, but not Lyla. I surveyed her as she picked up the loaded sandwich and took a giant bite out of it.You would think I’d have gotten sick of the food in New Orleans, but that wasn’t the case. I couldn’t get enough of the traditional cuisine. When I was in a good mood to appreciate things, I knew when I was fortunate enough to experience some good cooking.

“All right, so no past questions. Then tell me, what do you like to do on a typical Saturday?”

I took another bite of my sandwich and then wiped my mouth with a paper napkin that shredded under my sauce-coated fingers. “Well, when I’m not trying to wrangle up your friend at the club, or preparing for a presentation in the Toulouse Room, I like to spend time in the gym.” It was an honest answer. Wasting away my life in my room didn’t seem like something she would have liked to hear, and for some reason, I felt like trying to impress this woman.

“Workout? Seriously? You don’t have to tell me you work out. I can tell.”

“Ah, so you’ve been checking me out.” I smirked at her.

“It’s hard not to when I have fear that one of your muscles will poke me in the eye while we’re eating.”

“You would only be so lucky if my muscle poked you in the eye.”

Lyla eyed me and said, “Are you referring to your penis?”

I almost choked on my sandwich from her brazenness and grabbed my water to help the spurt of coughing that attacked me. I should have expected her to say something so crass. She did hang out with Goldie.

“You always this forward?”

“Yeah. Do you have a problem with it?” she asked as she took a giant bite of her sandwich.

“Nope, just want to know what to expect.”

She shook her head at me and leaned over to pat my arm. “Sorry to say, Kace, but you’re never going to be fully prepared when hanging out with me. I’m a loose cannon.”

“Fair enough,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

She continued to eat her sandwich in silence, devouring it quicker than me. She licked her fingers, showing me exactly what she could do with those gorgeous lips. I wondered what it would feel like to own those lips, to have them on my body, to feel them against mine.

I adjusted in my seat as my thoughts turned dirty.

“You have that glazed-over look. What are you thinking about?” she asked, tossing her napkin on her plate.

“What your lips would feel like on my body,” I answered honestly.

Her eyebrow rose. “And you think I’m forward?”

“Just evening the playing field, babe.”

“Fair enough. Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?”

I could tell her question wasn’t complicated, but for me, it was a loaded answer. I did believe in ghosts because right now, I felt like a walking ghost in the streets of New Orleans.“I do,” I said, keeping it short and simple. “Do you?”

 “I think there is this whole other world we don’t know about, that we won’t know about until we breathe our last breath. A place where we can make up for what we’ve done in life, a place where everyone gets along and where your biggest concern is who are we going to spook that night.”

“Who would you spook?” I asked, wondering who she would want to freak out in the mortal world.

“Isn’t it obvious? I would haunt the fuck out of Goldie. She is an easy target. It would be too much fun to freak her out.”

I laughed, a foreign noise to me, but the image of Goldie freaking out from Lyla’s ghost was too comical. Goldie would be an easy target, hands down.

“Damn, I might have to join you on that one.”

“All right, shark diving, skydiving, or bungee jumping?”

A lightness ran through me as I realized I was enjoying my lunch with Lyla more than I’d expected. Yes, I was attracted to her, like I was desperate to be inside of her. I thought she was so beautiful, but as I sat here in the café with zydeco music playing in the background, staring at her exotic face, I felt euphoric from her company. I allowed myself to engage in the feeling. It was rare for me, but I allowed it this day.