Free Bourbon Street Blues by Maureen Child

left. The night was cool, but held just a hint of the warmth that would soon cloak the city. She leaned back in her chair, kicked her feet up to the iron railing and crossed them at the ankles.
    She took a sip of crisp white wine and stared into the night. A tree hugged the side of the old house, and a slight wind ruffled its leaves, sounding a little like raindrops slapping the street. In the distance, a dog barked halfheartedly, then quieted again.
    All around her, the world was sleeping. Holly felt as though she were alone in the universe, and usually she liked that feeling just fine. After all, she was a night owl. She came to life at the same time everyone else was winding down. She liked sitting out here on her tiny balcony, listening to the quiet, feeling the wind, watching shadows stretch across the so familiar street.
    It was always peaceful. A relaxing way to end her night and get ready for bed. Until tonight, that is. Tonight her thoughts were too busy ricocheting around her mind for her to relax. And most of those thoughts were—surprise—centered on Parker James.
    She couldn’t help wondering if she’d made a mistake by not inviting him in. Logically, she knew it had been the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. God, she hated being smart. She’d much rather be satisfied. Much rather have him here, now, kissing her in the moonlight. Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair and tried to ignore the humming in her blood.
    “Oh, boy.” The sad truth was, Holly wanted Parker as she hadn’t wanted anyone since…
    “Well, there you go,” she whispered into the night. “That’s why he’s not here right now, missy.” She took a sip of wine and shook her head. “If you’re going to make mistakes, at least make new ones.”
    The last man who’d turned her inside out, Jeffrey St. Pierre, had come from the same background as Parker. Old money, a lineage that stretched back a century or two and a family that wouldn’t be happy about him spending time with a jazz singer.
    Jeff had played her for a fool almost from the get-go. And it shamed her to admit just how willing she had been to believe his lies. She had been stupid enough tobelieve he cared about more than getting her into bed. She’d believed they were headed somewhere—together. She’d told him about her past. Shared with him the plan she had for her future—something she hadn’t told anyone else except for Shana and Tommy.
    She’d let him into her heart. She’d given him everything he’d needed to shatter her when he’d tired of her. And, oh, that knowledge still stung. Bad enough to have your heart broken. Worse to stand there and invite it.
    Another sip of wine and she sighed, as those old memories twisted at her heart one more time. She had learned a lot in the past three years. She’d discovered that she didn’t need a man standing beside her to make her happy. She could take care of her own happiness.
    She wouldn’t allow herself to build dreams that had no hope of coming true.
    Not again.
    “But, oh, my, Parker surely knows how to kiss,” she whispered, fingers tightening on the stem of the crystal glass. She could almost taste him again, his mouth on hers, his breath dusting her cheeks, his heartbeat slamming against hers.
    Her stomach did a quick flip and her blood pumped thickly, hotly. The simple truth was, she wanted his hands on her. Wanted his mouth on her.Wanted him inside her. To feel that rush of sensation that heralded a bone-shaking orgasm.
    The question was, would it be smart? No, not really. But as long as her heart wasn’t involved, there wouldn’t be anything wrong in taking the man to bed, now would there?
    Smiling to herself, she drained the rest of her wine, then tapped her toes to the melody stringing out in her mind.
     
    P ARKER OPENED his front door the following afternoon and just managed to bite back an impatient oath.
    “What’s the matter, darling?” Frannie asked as she lifted up on her