Hot Pursuit Read online

  Julie’s dozen or so bracelets clinked as she popped her hands on her hips again and stared after Sarah. “That little brat. You want me to go get her and make her apologize?”

  Evie shook her head, even as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “No, forget it. She didn’t get mad overnight, and she won’t get un-mad that way either.”

  “Your mama’s been too indulgent with her. She would’ve paddled your behind for acting that way, no matter how old you were.”

  “Mama’s busy, Jules. And I doubt Sarah acts that way toward her. Me, on the other hand…” She sighed. “Maybe if I had been here, she wouldn’t be so hostile. I can’t really blame her for not trusting me.”

  Julie snorted. “Don’t kid yourself, girlfriend. She’s a teenager. Brattiness is practically a requirement.” Julie tossed her hair over her shoulder and peered up at Evie. “C’mon, you ready to go get laid? That’ll certainly help your mood, I promise.”

  Evie laughed, though inside she still stung from Sarah’s rejection. But there wasn’t much she could do about it. Even if she stayed here, she’d get nowhere with the kid. Sarah would hide in her room until Mama came home later. “God no. But I’ll go out to the lake with you and have a beer or two. Then I’m coming home. Alone.”

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Your loss. Especially when Matt Girard shows up.”

  “He’s not coming, Julie.”

  “Bet he does. And when I win, you have to cook your famous gumbo for me.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. “He won’t.”

  Julie looked smug. “We’ll see…”

  *

  Rochambeau Lake had a split personality. One side—the side with picnic tables, charcoal grills, and a big pavilion—was clear and calm. But the farther you went across the lake, moss-draped cypress trees crowded together like shadowy sentinels and the lake became a bayou. Gators swam deep in the cypress, down the long winding fingers of murky water that branched and stretched for miles throughout the parish. Snakes coiled in the trees overhanging the water, sometimes dropping in on unsuspecting anglers.

  Evie couldn’t see the people splashing in the dark, but she heard them laughing. Crazy to go swimming in the middle of the night, even if it was hot. A flash of murky water and the black S-curve silhouette of a snake flowing toward her were the most vivid memories of her last foray into the bayou.

  Evie shuddered. She wasn’t getting into—or onto—the bayou ever again. She’d never been particularly squeamish, but that afternoon when the snake had fallen out of the tree and into the little canoe—which she and Julie then proceeded to overturn in their panic—had seared itself into her memory.

  Just then, Jimmy Thibodeaux reappeared with a beer and a wine cooler, and Evie gritted her teeth. So much for avoiding Jimmy. He’d made a beeline for her the minute they arrived and he hadn’t let her out of his sight in the fifteen minutes since. He’d been nothing but polite, however, so she couldn’t exactly get away from him without being rude.

  And she wasn’t prepared to be rude just yet. She kept thinking of him pulling a knife on Ginny Temple, but she didn’t think he was crazy enough to do something like that here with so many people around. The other guys would tackle him if he tried it.

  Evie craned her neck, looking for Julie, but her cousin had slipped into Steve LaValle’s arms and didn’t look as if she was slipping out again anytime soon. She didn’t think Julie had meant to leave her with Jimmy, but that didn’t change the current situation.

  “I know you said beer, but I thought you might like this better.” Jimmy handed her a wine cooler and sat down on the bench beside her. “I know how you ladies like foo-foo drinks.”

  Evie’s jaw felt like it might crack. “Thanks.” She scooted down the bench as much as possible. The crowd closed to hide Julie and Steve from her view.

  Damn it.

  She turned and tried to smile politely at Jimmy. He wasn’t bad-looking, with his dark hair and dark eyes, but she’d never liked him. He was loud, brazen, and a bit too macho. Always had been. If she had to hear another story about him bagging a gator—or a moose in Montana—she’d probably scream.

  “So,” Jimmy said, his hand skimming across her bare knee and up her thigh. “You back in town for good?”

  Evie pushed his hand away and kept smiling. There wasn’t an ounce of friendliness in it, but she knew Jimmy was too dumb to see it. No, he leered and groped like they were back in high school and she was still Easy Evie. More than anything, it made her mad. Livid.

  “Nope,” she replied through clenched teeth. “I’ll be leaving again soon.”

  She didn’t know that for sure, but it was definitely the plan. The sooner, the better. She felt a pang of guilt when she pictured Sarah’s sullen face, but that was life. Her life dictated that she had to get out of Rochambeau or go crazy.

  “That’s a shame. Maybe we could get together before you go.” He leaned in a little more, his fingers skimming the side of her breast.

  Evie shot to her feet, and Jimmy barely managed to catch himself before he fell into her vacant seat. “No, thanks.” She said it politely when what she really wanted to do was sock him. “I’m not ready to start a relationship.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship?” Jimmy blinked up at her, clueless as usual. But there was something in those eyes, something cold and mean. It made her shiver. “You got time for sex, ain’t you?”

  Warning bells rang in her head as she faced him down. Her smile could have cut glass. Maybe she should have socked him anyway. “Oh darn, I took a vow of celibacy two days ago. Look, there’s my cousin.”

  She spun on her high heels, thankful she didn’t trip and make a mockery of her grand exit, and walked away without waiting for an answer. She didn’t turn around to look at Jimmy, but she could feel his eyes on her as she stepped into the pavilion. She’d pissed him off, that was for sure.

  Evie breathed a sigh of relief as she skirted the makeshift dance floor where couples gyrated to the music someone played using an iPod and two great big speakers. She didn’t think Jimmy would pull anything, but she liked having a crowd around her just in case.

  She searched for Julie, finally spotting her again. Julie leaned back against Steve, her head on his shoulder, her lips tilted up to accept a lingering kiss.

  By the looks of it, Julie wasn’t going to be willing to leave just yet. Julie had probably had sex with Steve a thousand times, but they still had to go through this ritual-courting thing first. They got together, broke up, then made up a few days later with wild monkey sex. This looked like a monkey-sex night, but there was a protocol to follow. Why they couldn’t just admit they were hot for each other and go for it, Evie would never understand.

  Evie set the wine cooler she’d nearly forgotten she was still holding on top of a table as she skirted the crowd. She’d go hang out in Julie and Steve’s corner until they were ready to leave. If she were lucky, it’d be a matter of minutes before they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and wanted to go back to Steve’s place. Before they did, she’d get Julie’s keys and drive herself home.

  “I think you lost your drink.”

  Evie knew that voice. It slid over her like hot silk and she spun to find Matt Girard standing behind her, holding the bottle she’d just ditched. Why did her heart skip the second he showed up? And why did he have to look so delicious?

  “I didn’t lose it.”

  He stood there in faded jeans and a dark T-shirt that molded to his hard pecs and biceps. But it wasn’t his clothing that got her attention so much as his eyes. There was something in them, something she didn’t remember seeing when he’d been seventeen. He’d been part of this crowd long ago, much more than she had, but he no longer looked like he belonged—in spite of the longing looks some of the women were casting in his direction.

  His gaze dropped over her before rising again, slowly, and her body reacted as if he’d brushed his fingers over her. There was something hot, sharp, and thrilling in tha
t gaze—and she was way more susceptible to it than she wanted to be.

  Once, she would have given anything for him to look at her like that. Now, she wasn’t certain she’d survive the experience.

  “Great dress.” His voice was silky.

  Evie swallowed. She was tingling, and that wasn’t a good thing. The last time she’d tingled over this man, it had not turned out so well. “Thanks. I think.”

  He grinned. “It’s definitely a compliment.”

  Evie crossed her arms and tried to look cool. “Thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

  “Now what made you think a thing like that?”

  Her blood slogged like molasses in her veins. “I believe you said ‘probably not’ in response to Julie’s query.”

  His teeth flashed. “Yeah, but that’s before I knew you’d be here.”

  “What do you want, Matt?” Her heart thrummed like she was sixteen again.

  His gaze dropped once more. “Maybe I’d like to see what’s under that dress.” His voice sounded low and sexy. It pooled in her belly and sent hot waves of need spiraling outward.

  “Forget it,” she said with a conviction she didn’t quite feel. “As I recall, the last time didn’t turn out so well for me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “You said that earlier.”

  “I did.”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “So why’d you come then? I heard you the first time.”

  He sighed. “Evie. Jesus.” He raked a hand through his hair, and her blood hummed at the ripple and flex of muscle. “I just got back from the desert. Life out there is… unpredictable. It makes a man think. And I’ve decided that I don’t like feeling like a shithead for something that happened ten years ago. I want to clear the slate.”

  Evie let out a breath. She’d been so hurt; then she’d been angry. But it was a long time ago and she couldn’t hold a grudge forever. Even now, she recognized that most of her feelings about the incident were still tied up with having her love so cruelly flung back in her face. The other stuff, while definitely unpleasant at the time, hardly mattered anymore.

  “We were kids, Matt.”

  “I hurt you.”

  She didn’t flinch from his gaze. “You did. But I’m not sixteen anymore. And like I said today, it was my fault too. I asked you to do it. And I told a couple of my friends about it, so it wasn’t just you telling the boys.” She shrugged with a lightness she didn’t quite feel. “What happened was probably inevitable. The guys thought I was easy. The girls who were jealous said I was a slut. They made my senior year difficult in some ways. But what hurt the most was never hearing from you again.”

  There, she’d said it. She’d told him what really hurt, and she’d given him a window into her feelings back then. He’d have to be an idiot not to know, but it was always possible he hadn’t.

  “I should have called you.”

  The music changed, the beat slowing. Evie took a step backward instinctively, but Matt caught her hand and held it tight. She tugged once, then stopped. They faced each other across a few feet of space. Around them, couples began to slide together, fitting into each other.

  Evie’s pulse beat harder. Her skin sizzled where they touched, his big hand engulfing hers, his palm calloused in a way that shocked her. He was a Girard—rich, entitled—and he had a workman’s hands.

  “One dance.”

  Her insides melted a little more. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  But what she really wanted to do was say yes.

  His eyes were bright. “Why not? We’re adults now, Evie. No one’s getting hurt here.”

  He said it like it was so easy, but was it really? Wasn’t she still vulnerable on some level? She was down on her luck right now, feeling like a loser, and here he was, the same gorgeous, cocky, beautiful creature he’d always been.

  Except, no, he was more than that, wasn’t he? There was something behind his smile now. Something dark and sad. Pain flared in his gray eyes and then was gone so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it.

  It shocked her. She suddenly wanted to know what had happened to him. She’d heard about him being held captive by terrorists. How could he not be affected by something like that? Of all the things she’d expected Matt Girard to do with his life, putting himself into danger had not even occurred to her. He had everything. Why would he want to risk his life that way?

  She remembered when his mother had died. He’d been twelve. Mama had taken her to the wake out at Reynier’s Retreat. There were so many people crowding the beautiful rooms of the mansion. The house was heavy with sadness and thick with grief, and it had scared her. She’d escaped to run down the wide lawn. She’d known where to find Matt. He’d been curled inside the hollow of a tree they’d found a few years before.

  He’d been dressed in a black suit, his dark hair slicked back carefully, his gray eyes wide and wounded as he looked up at her. Her heart had lifted into her throat then. She’d only been eleven, but she’d felt something in that moment that rocked her world—and would continue to rock her world until she was sixteen and shattered by his casual cruelty.

  But not that day. That day, she’d slid into the hollow and sat down beside him. When she’d put her arms around him, he’d turned his face into the crook of her neck and wept.

  Evie sucked in a breath. How could she walk away from him now, knowing there was something behind those eyes? He was hurting again, and she didn’t know why.

  “One dance, Evangeline,” he said softly when she hesitated. “Make a soldier’s night. I just got back from the desert a few days ago. I’d like to dance with a pretty woman and forget about that hellhole for a while.”

  Evie swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

  He grinned. “Because you can’t say no now?”

  She nodded.

  “Good for me then.”

  “Just one dance and we go our separate ways, got it?” Because she didn’t want to feel this tangle of emotions again. This tiny blossoming in her heart that said she was going to be in so much trouble if she didn’t shut it down quickly.

  “If that’s what you want.” His voice was rough.

  He took her other hand then, ran his palms up her arms to her shoulders. Little sparks of sensation swirled in her belly, lighting her up like the Fourth of July. He pulled her into his arms right there on the edge of the dance floor.

  Evie braced her hands against his chest, pressed back when he tried to bring her closer. It was already overwhelming to be so close to him. To feel his heat and hardness next to her body.

  To feel everything she’d once wanted so much.

  “I don’t bite,” he murmured. “Unless you want me to.”

  “Hardly.” But heat flowed through her at the thought. Evie closed her eyes. This was insane. Why had she agreed? It was like she’d stepped back in time and gotten caught in all her girlish dreams.

  She was in Matt Girard’s arms, dancing with him in public. Poor Evie Baker and the rich senator’s son. The boy most likely to succeed and the girl who would never amount to anything. What a pair.

  She should have refused, no matter how much she ached for him. No matter how much history flowed between them.

  But he’d trotted out that returning soldier line and she’d caved like a fallen soufflé.

  She should walk away right now, but she couldn’t seem to make herself do so. Instead, she tried to keep distance between them, stood stiffly in his embrace with her hands on his shoulders until he grasped her arms and twined them around his neck. “At least look like you’re having fun.”

  “What if I’m not?”

  He laughed. “Pretend.”

  They swayed to the music without talking. His body was so hard, like he’d been carved from marble. He was lean and lethal, a finely honed military machine. From the hard contours of his shoulders to the flat planes of his abdomen, there wasn’t an ounce of softness anywhere on him.

  His h
ands were in the small of her back, caressing her as they moved. She became acutely aware of her breasts pressing against his chest. When she tilted her head back to look up at him, his eyes were intense. She turned away even as a thrill shot through her.

  “I’ve missed you, Evie. I didn’t realize how much until I saw you today.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  A bead of sweat trickled between her breasts and her skin grew hot. She’d forgotten how steamy Louisiana nights could be. Why did these morons still party at the lake? They weren’t teenagers anymore, and they had houses.

  “We haven’t spoken in ten years. I hardly think you missed me that much.”

  Matt’s hands slid across her back, leaving a trail of flame in their wake. “I said I didn’t realize it until today. That’s the truth. You were always honest with me, Evie. I liked that. Needed it.”

  Evie snorted, more to cover the riot of sensations inside her than anything. “You couldn’t have liked it that much. You used to sit on me until I cried uncle.”

  Matt laughed. “Yeah, you really knew how to piss me off back then. But you were my best friend when we were little.”

  “Until you left private school and started going to Rochambeau Junior High. Then I was persona non grata.”

  “Hardly. But you were a girl, and I needed to get in good with the guys.”

  “And the other girls.”

  He gave her that pretty grin of his. “Yeah, that too.”

  As if he’d ever had an ounce of trouble in that department. She remembered his first day in public school, how thrilled she’d been to have him there where they could hang out together—and how jealous she’d been when he’d started paying attention to other girls.

  “We go back a long ways, don’t we?” Her arms around his neck relaxed a little, until it felt almost natural to be dancing with him like this.