MARDI GRAS MAGIC Read online

  MARDI GRAS MAGIC

  By

  Fawn Lowery

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Mardi Gras Magic

  Copyright © 2007 Fawn Lowery

  Cover art and design by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  www.extasybooks.com

  To the wonderful hard-working Editors and Artists at Extasy Books! Thank you!

  Chapter One

  Tia Morgan walked through the gate at the New Orleans airport and headed across the terminal to retrieve her luggage. A quick glance at her watch reaffirmed how anxious she felt at seeing Rachel Shepherd again. She and Rachel had been best friends since grade school, but they hadn’t seen each other since high school graduation, almost six years ago. Rachel was planning on getting married during the Mardi Gras celebration—on the street, no less—and Tia was going to be her maid of honor. She shook her head again at the audacity of the notion.

  Engrossed in contemplating why she had come to New Orleans, Tia didn’t hear her friend coming up behind her until it was too late.

  “Stick ‘em up!” a gruff voice ordered, jabbing something into Tia’s ribs.

  Tia jumped and whirled around, then she saw Rachel bursting into laughter.

  “Tia, darling!” Rachel exclaimed and grabbed Tia in a tight bear hug. “I had a feeling your plane would be on time. That’s a good sign, you know.”

  Tia returned Rachel’s hug, then allowed her friend to push her to arms' length to have a look at her.

  “I’m so glad you haven’t cut your hair,” Rachel exclaimed, her hands skimming along the loose brown curls lying atop Tia’s shoulders. “Tsk, tsk,” Rachel continued, accessing Tia in her camel tan pantsuit. “I see you’re still hiding that gorgeous figure under baggy clothing.” She shook her head at Tia. “I’m going to fix that. As my maid of honor, you’ll be decked out in a most revealing costume.” She gave Tia a mischievous wink.

  Tia tried to smile, though her lips felt tight against her teeth as her eyes lowered to stare at the pair of hip hugger jeans Rachel wore. When had she gotten her belly button pierced?

  Never mind, she told herself. Don’t ask.

  “Come on, let’s find your suitcase and get out of here. The guys are waiting.”

  “Guys? What guys?” Tia questioned.

  “Tom and Logan. Logan is going to be Tom’s best man in our wedding.” Rachel replied. “You do remember Logan, don’t you?”

  A red blush colored Tia’s cheeks. “I’ll never forget him,” she answered in a droll voice. Logan Summerfield had taken her virginity.

  Rachel giggled and grabbed Tia’s suitcase off the carousel. “Let’s go. My car’s out front—if it hasn’t gotten towed.”

  Tia rolled her eyes in consternation and trailed Rachel across the airport foyer to the main entrance. A lime green VW was parked with one front wheel up on the curb. Rachel headed toward it, hips swinging, breasts jiggling.

  “We’ll drop your bag at the hotel and then go meet the guys,” Rachel said, sliding in the driver's seat.

  Tia bit nervously on her bottom lip. She had been hoping that Logan Summerfield was married, or had moved out of state, or any damned thing that would prevent her from ever seeing him again.

  For six years, she had been reliving the nightmare during the last day of senior week, trying to change how she felt about what happened, with no luck. She had acted like a lovesick teenager. Never mind that she was; at eighteen she hadn’t known her own mind about such things as sex and falling in love—though she would have argued with the devil that she did.

  She had thought herself lucky when Logan asked her to be his date for the Senior Prom. He was her dream guy—tall, muscular, with raven black hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was the captain of the football team, and every girl in high school was in love with him.

  Maybe it was the fact that he chose me over all the rest. Damn. She should have majored in psychology in college, instead of economics. She pushed the unsettling thoughts aside. She hadn’t figured it out in six years, why did she think she could now?

  She gazed out the side window, taking in the sights of New Orleans as Rachel meandered through the traffic to the hotel. Ordinarily she would have expected to stay with Rachel, but she had moved in with Tom, her soon-to-be husband, four months ago and given up the lease on her loft apartment.

  She remembered Tom Crawford from high school. He had played basketball and led the debate team.

  “Jeez! There are a lot of people in this town,” Rachel exclaimed, laying on the horn when the light changed and pedestrians still crowded the intersection.

  Tia gripped the door handle as Rachel eased the car into the crowd. “Don’t run over anybody,” she said, a bit on edge.

  “Aw, hell. They’ve already had three full minutes to cross the street,” Rachel growled. “We’ve got places to go and guys to meet—“

  Tia laughed and shook her head. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up in jail sometime during this week.”

  Rachel giggled and glanced at Tia. “You’re still leading that sheltered life, I see.”

  “Safe. I lead a safe life.”

  “Dull, honey.”

  “Dull?” Tia’s head whipped around to stare at Rachel. “My life isn’t dull.”

  “Oh, yeah? When’s the last time you got laid?”

  An instant blush colored Tia’s cheeks. “Well...“she stammered, then turned her gaze out the side window. “There’s more to my life than sleeping with guys.”

  Rachel’s giggle echoed inside the closed car. “I bet you haven’t had sex since you presented your cherry to Logan Summerfield.”

  “Rachel!” Tia exclaimed.

  “I’m right. Aren’t I?” Rachel pressed, a note of humor in her tone. “Admit it.”

  “I’ll admit to nothing,” Tia stated. She lowered her gaze to the purse sitting in her lap. “Logan’s married now, isn’t he?”

  “No. He’s living in the old family home in the Garden District since his parents went to Europe to live. He and Tom are partners in the Summerfield and Crawford Law firm.” She threw a carefree grin at Tia. “And I’m the office receptionist.”

  “So that’s how you landed Tom Crawford,” Tia said, a teasing smile gracing her lips.

  “Naw. I hooked him with sex. I know where a man’s thoughts lie. The very first time I went out with Tom, he made it clear to me that he liked sex.” She winked at Tia. “And I made it clear to him that if he expected to get between my legs, he’d have to buy me dinner first.”

  Tia groaned then shook her head. Knowing Rachel, the story was probably true. “If only I could be that open about sex,” she mumbled.

  “You’ve got to tear down that brick wall you’ve erected around yourself, Tia. Never mind what happened in your childhood. That’s in the past. You have to live for today.”

  “No lectures, please. My parents meant well.”


  “Your mother was a nun.”

  Tia laughed in spite of herself. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Yes, it was. She made you dress like a spinster and wouldn’t allow you to have a boyfriend. I was totally shocked when she let you go to the Senior Prom.”

  “She didn’t know I was going.” Tia turned to look at Rachel. “And if she knew I gave myself to Logan, she’d have a super fit—even after all these years.”

  Rachel wheeled the VW into the main entrance of the Holiday Inn and shut off the key. “How did you manage to pull the whole thing off without my help?”

  Tia shrugged and opened the car door. “I just decided I was going, and did what was necessary to make it happen.”

  * * * *

  “So, tell me about Logan, since it’s inevitable I’m to meet up with him again,” Tia said, her hands busy unpacking her suitcase. “I can hardly believe he isn’t married after all these years.”

  “Maybe he’s been waiting for you to come back to New Orleans,” Rachel said.

  “Yeah, right,” Tia admonished with a short burst of laughter. “I’m certain I left a lasting impression on him.”

  “He smiled broadly when I told him you were coming back to be my maid of honor.”

  Tia paused and stared at Rachel. Don’t get your hopes up, she told herself.

  “Really. And he’s asked about you every day since.”

  Tia’s arched brows drew together in an uncertain frown. “Are you making that up?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die. It’s the truth. I suppose you giving him your little cherry left an impression on him.”

  “He’s probably had so many cherries he’s lost count.” Tia slammed the lid on her empty suitcase.

  “I don’t know,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “He’s a strange guy. Women fall all over themselves just to be near him, and yet he doesn’t have a steady girlfriend.”

  Tia took mental notes of all Rachel said, yet she refused to allow herself the least selfish thought. If Logan was along, it was by choice.

  Rachel suddenly glanced at her watch and bounded off the bed. “Oh, my gosh! We have to leave right now. Tom and Logan will be at the restaurant waiting on us.” She glanced at Tia, her gaze racing the length of her figure. “Change clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “You look like an old maid.” Rachel raced across the room and pulled the closet door open. “Here. Put this on.”

  “That’s a sundress—and it's too cold for evening.”

  “Don’t argue,” Rachel chided. “Show some cleavage. And wear those strappy sandals. Show some leg, Tia.”

  Chapter Two

  Mardi Gras brought out the revelers and fun-seekers, especially in the French Quarter. Clusters of people strolled leisurely along the narrow streets with plastic cups of beer and assorted drinks in hand. The very air was provocative with strains of jazz music blaring from several of the bars and restaurants.

  Finally able to squeeze the car between a pickup truck and a fire hydrant, Rachel and Tia melded in with the crowd. Odors of cigarettes and liquor filled the air and Tia mentally calculated the takings for just one of the many bars opening onto the narrow little streets. She pushed the thoughts aside. Being a CPA was sometimes a drag. Her brain seemed to be always calculating one set of figures or other. Though fascinating, the ongoing thrill of working with numbers obligingly put her in the solitary category of life. CPAs were dull people as a rule, content with solitude and a calculator. At times, Tia was finding the very premise of the profession to be just that—solitude exemplified.

  Rachel pulled Tia along through the crowd by one hand until they reached The Coals, a fashionable Bourbon Street

  grill and bar. Though there were almost as many people packed into the restaurant as were milling about outside, Rachel hung on to Tia’s hand and worked her way to the rear of the establishment. Momentarily, Tia was given a push into a red leather booth and bounced against a solid male shoulder and hip.

  Coming to rest, Tia was quick to try and separate herself from the masculine contours, only to be stopped by the strong arm flung about her shoulders. A very warm male hand clasped her upper arm, preventing her from putting any distance between their bodies whatsoever. She gasped and looked at the man preventing her from moving away.

  “Logan!”

  “I thought you’d never get here,” he said. A wide grin lit his handsome face. And Tia quickly drank in the sight of him. He didn’t look a day older than when they were in high school, though she surmised he was at least twenty-three. His dark hair was neatly trimmed with that careless lock grazing his forehead, giving him a reckless appearance. His brown eyes were large and luminous, framed in thick black lashes. They lowered appraisingly as he swept his gaze over Tia’s face and brightly colored dress, then quickly raised to lock with her own.

  “You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he said in a low tone.

  A note of unbelievable surprise shot through Tia at precisely the exact moment she felt the toe of Rachel’s shoe collide with her right shin. Jerking her gaze to her friend, she spied Rachel grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

  “Nice to see you again, Tia,” Tom said reaching across the table to shake hands with her. “I hear you’re a CPA, with your own business in Ohio.”

  “Boring,” Rachel put in, then giggled.

  Tia could smell Logan’s cologne, a rich blend of spice and something akin to the outdoors. She pulled the fragrance deep into her lungs, satisfying her senses that she was really with him again—nestled so snugly against his side that she could hardly make a move without his knowing it. Senses reeling, when it was her turn to order dinner, she rattled off something so quickly that it soon left her mind and returned only when a large plate of Louisiana seafood gumbo was set before her. She blinked, startled at the size of the portion.

  “You’ll damage that gorgeous figure if you eat all of that,” Logan said, his head tilted toward hers.

  His warm breath fanned her bare collarbone and wafted lower, onto the soft round contours of her breasts. Tia felt her nipples pucker at the inference in his tone. Thank God she had convinced Rachel to let her wear the matching cotton sweater over the dress. The thought of how Logan’s breath would feel fanning across her naked shoulders almost made her cream her panties. She squirmed around in her seat, trying to break the contact of her body against his.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Logan whispered against her ear.

  His statement shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Was he aware of her nervousness at being so close to him? His arm tightened, forcing her even closer. She stole a peek in his direction and met his gaze full throttle. One corner of his full mouth pulled upward in a knowing grin.

  Tia’s gaze centered on his lips—and the all-consuming urge to kiss him skittered through her. Her own lips parted in dismay at her unabashed guile to dare such thoughts. What in the world was wrong with her? Had she completely lost all sense of rational?

  I truly love him.

  Silly girl. Never tell a man you love him before he confesses to loving you.

  His hand tightened on her arm briefly, then he removed his arm and turned his attention to his plate of food. It was then Tia noticed he had ordered the gumbo, too.

  Mere coincidence, she told herself. The earlier comment Rachel had made about fate and signs came to mind, but Tia tried to push the thoughts aside. Rachel was prone to nonsense, often mixing reality with fantasy, she reminded herself.

  Still, Logan’s side was pressed warmly against hers. He may have moved his arm from around her shoulders and his hand from her upper arm—but he hadn’t put any distance between their bodies. She picked up her fork and began eating, wondering if she should have foregone the mixed drink the waiter brought.

  “A toast to our forthcoming wedding,” Rachel suddenly blurted out, followed by a shrill giggle.

  Tia grabbed her drink glass and clinked it against the ot
hers. Maybe the liquor would take away her inhibitions.

  Liquor can only make matters worse.

  The words rang out in Tia’s head as though her mother was standing beside the table and had shouted. Nothing good could come out of her getting drunk, she reminded, briefly reliving the one time she had drank beer and become loose tongued. She slid her gaze to Rachel. She had unburdened her soul about Logan that night. She glanced aside at Logan, relieved to view the side of his face as he talked with Tom across the table. Seemed business had suddenly taken their attentions away from the girls.

  They lingered over drinks after the waiter cleared the dishes from the table. A small jazz combo played in one corner of the room making it necessary to lean halfway across the table to be heard when you spoke. Tia found she was content to sit and listen to the music. It had been a long time since she’d heard such good jazz.

  “I’ll take you back to the hotel,” Logan said to Tia.

  A measure of surprise filled Tia’s insides at the prospect of being alone with Logan. She gave a wary glance toward Rachel, only to receive a wink from her friend.

  Logan whisked Tia through the crowd at the door of the restaurant and they became immersed with the revelers in the streets until she was ushered inside the front seat of a bright red Porsche. She settled, a bit stunned, into the plush contours of the leather seat, and quickly glanced around while Logan made his way around the car to the driver’s door. In some respects she felt she should pinch herself—just to prove what was happening to her was real.

  Only seconds passed before Logan was joining her in the car, then he revved the motor and pulled into the flow of traffic, easing along the street. Tia couldn’t take her eyes off him. For too many years she had imagined herself being with him—and now that it was actually coming about—

  He glanced at her, smiled, then returned his attention to driving. Tia felt like a million butterflies had been released in her stomach.