“Oh my god! I haven’t had good creole food in too damn long.” Vivi’s effusive praise of the small restaurant a short walk from the bed and breakfast was charming. The sexy noises of satisfaction she made, were not.

At least not with a family of four less than ten feet away from us. “Keep that up and you won’t get any tonight.”

Her big green eyes looked at me curiously and then recognition dawned. “Take my creole and we’ll have real problems. Husband.” Her menacing stare combined with the half-eaten shrimp on her fork was too funny.

“So creole food is a hard limit for you?”

She shrugged. “For today, yes. But after being home for a while I might get sick of it. A girl can only have so much deep dish pizza before she starts craving gumbo.”

“How about deep dish seafood pizza?”

She smiled as she thought and then smacked the table with her palm. “I like the way you think, Boudreaux.”

“Yeah? Because you should see what I’m thinking right now,” I told her and licked my lips. She shivered and damn, her response never failed to give my ego a proper boost.

“I can see it, and I approve. Totally.” She pushed the small bowl of gumbo, now empty, away and stared at me. Like she was thinking. Too much. I hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time but I knew when your woman did too much thinking, it usually spelled trouble for the man.

“What are you thinking?”

“Tell me about Norah’s mother. Did you love her?” My expression must have given my thoughts away because she raised her hands in surrender. “I’m only curious about the woman who captured your heart.”

“Why are you so sure she did?”

Vivi shrugged, drawing my eye to the triangle of freckles on her right shoulder. “Because I’m a romantic and it fits my narrative. Prove me right or wrong, Boudreaux.”

I had to constantly remind myself that Vivi wasn’t like most women. I was sure she was capable of jealousy, but it wasn’t her first impulse, and that was attractive as hell. “I met Nanette when I still had dreams of being a country music superstar. She was beautiful, in that trashy cowgirl way that twenty-year-old southern men can’t get enough of and I couldn’t resist. Neither could she after my one and only single started getting some radio play.”

“Wait, you have a single? How did I not know this! Gimme the name,” she said as she whipped out her phone and began typing.

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Definitely.” She flashed a comforting grin that was nearly as warm as the wine, and I smiled. “Tell me everything.”

“Not much to tell. Nanette miscalculated my earning potential when she got pregnant. I sold a few songs and made some good money but not what she’d been expecting. So Norah was about one month old when I came home and found her alone in her crib and a note on the counter from Nanette. I can’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, but what a bitch! I can’t believe she did that to you guys.”

“I appreciate it but I think she did us both a favor. It forced me to grow up and I’d rather have her gone forever than in and out of Norah’s’ life, confusing her.”

“Look at you, mister mature. That’s a very healthy way of looking at things.”

“It didn’t come right away. Maybe the last year or so, I’d say.” She laughed as I hoped because the last thing I wanted to talk about was Nanette.

“Better late than never. Do you still write songs?”

“On occasion. The money is nice, especially the royalties.”

“You really are a renaissance man. Want to be my cover model?”

“Do I have to be shirtless?” Because for Vivi, I might consider it.

“Definitely, but now that I’m thinking about it I’m not sure if I want to share this view with the world.” Her gaze heated and I had to fight the urge to clear the table and take her right on it, with the whole place watching.

“You let me know,” I told her honestly because I was ready to be the object of her desire.

“Maybe we should play photographer and model when we get back to the room?”

“Well, that sounds much better than my plan. There’s a real juke joint around here, opens at ten.”

“No. Way! No friggin’ way, Nash! You really feel like cuttin’ up a rug with me?”

“Rubbing up against the prettiest girl in the room, how could I resist?”