Part 32 (1/2)

I knew I shouldn't ask.

But I asked.

”What's pizza?”

”Tangy tomato sauce, smooth cheese, spicy sausage, all baked on top of a doughy crust with crispy, chewy edges. You got killer food here, Frannie, but the minute I get home, I'm getting a slice, and if you're with me, I'm getting you one too. Extra cheese and pepperoni.”

I liked tangy sauce, smooth cheese and sausage.

I also liked bread.

No, I adored bread.

Drat.

”I must think on this, Noc,” I told him, and it was true.

What also was true was that there was no reason not to take this alternate adventure, except I'd be even further away from my brother.

Though, if Valentine was but a coin or two away from bringing me home, I had many of those and I could be back with him and his family faster and safer than I could return across the Green Sea.

No, it was Noc that was the concern.

Noc and just how much I liked spending time with him.

And just how wrong that was.

”More options,” he stated and my focus sharpened on him. ”I go do my thing with Finnie and Frey and the rest, you go back with your brother. Few months, maybe after the baby's born and you know it's all good with that, Valentine takes us home. I get my gig here, you get your time with your family, then we take our adventure.”

My.

Now that might be workable.

Months away from Noc would mean I could get my head sorted about him, for surely it was his attention and kindness all bundled in the alluring package that was him and handed to me at a time when I was at my most vulnerable that was muddling it.

I missed Antoine. I'd lost him forever.

Perhaps as a coping mechanism, my mind was searching for an alternate, even if this was wrong and disloyal.

That had to be it.

”Yeah?” Noc prompted.

”Yes,” I replied. ”I'll think on that option too, Noc.”

A grin from him and a heartfelt, ”Great, baby.”

Looking pleased with himself, he gave my hand a squeeze, let it go and turned to the fire, lifting his gla.s.s.

I did the same.

”Pizza. Phones. Bikes,” Noc's voice came again. ”TV. Movies. Computers. Football.” I turned my head to him just in time to see him do the same my way. ”And you know I like you when I promise to take you to the shoe department at Nordstrom.”

”Do they have a nice selection of slippers?” I queried.

His grin this time was different. It made my breath catch and my nipples contract.

Worse, he did it leaning across the table toward me and his voice was lower, deeper, like he was sharing a delicious secret when he spoke next.

”Baby, just you wait and see.”

My.

I gave myself a hearty inward shake and pulled myself together.

”I do believe, Master Noc, that you're taking unfair advantage by applying not-so-subtle pressure for me to fall in with your plans.”

He sat back, lifted his gla.s.s and warned, ”You don't come to me after you have breakfast with your brother tomorrow and tell me you're in, get used to that over the next few days, Frannie.”

Wonderful.

I looked from him in a patented Franka Drakkar dismissive way and took another sip of my whiskey, only to do this hearing Noc's chuckle.

G.o.ds.

”You're gonna look good in spike heels,” Noc remarked.

Spike heels?

Intriguing.

”Cease,” I demanded.

He ignored me.

”And a little black dress.”

”Cease,” I snapped.

”Wearin' both at midnight sittin' across from me at Cafe du Monde after we did the town, kicked back listening to live jazz, got drunk on Bourbon Street, eating a beignet caked with powdered sugar and drinking coffee with chicory.”

Jazz? What was that?

And a beignet? I had no clue what that was but anything caked with a substance called ”powdered sugar” had to be delicious, didn't it?

I turned my head to glower at him.