Free Bayou Born (Fleur de Lis Series) by Linda Joyce

hand, leaned close, and whispered, “She’s got a lot of potential. A great asset to the college. Do your best, but keep it professional.”
    With a wave, Dr. Brown and Vivian left them. Alone with Branna, James offered her the bottle of water. “You promised me one more dance.”
    Branna drank slowly, smiled, then replied, “ Really , Dr. Newbern? You want more ?” She didn’t sound like she was into the dancing idea, but she held out her hand. He wouldn’t let her glare stand in the way of holding her in his arms one last time. Maybe he could convince her he wasn’t a total ass. Maybe.
    This time when they danced, she moved mechanically in his arms, keeping a distance between them. She gazed at some faraway spot over his shoulder, rather than look him in the eyes. She stepped on his toes multiple times. Payback for his deception, he assumed. For once in his life, he could read a woman’s mind. Hers flashed—anger.
    The moment the band stopped playing, Branna dropped her grasp of his hand and left the dance floor.
    “Well, thanks for the dance.” Hoofing it to catch up to her, he was certain a different type of storm was heading his way. Had a hurricane ever started as tropical storm Branna?
    “So you are the famous Dr. Newbern.” Her smile was saccharine-sweet, and her voice smacked with accusation.
    “I don’t know about famous.”
    “Dr. Brown said you’ve been dodging him for a couple of weeks.”
    “Not dodging. Attending to personal business,” he corrected.
    Her smile fell. “Oh. Well, that explains it. I guess I shouldn’t take it personally. Dr. Newbern, would you mind walking me out? In case someone’s blocked my car? You can use your disappearing powers to make it move out of the way.”
    “Sure.”
    He stood at the top of the steps as Branna thanked the Westcotts, then gathered a wooden salad bowl from the table. The crowd’s laughter drifted on the breeze. The white tents glowed red, green, blue, and yellow from the hanging colored lanterns. The break in the weather had made the festivities enjoyable. Mrs. Westcott had probably ordered that, too. From where he stood, surveying the party below, it looked like a spread from a magazine. Mrs. Westcott had done it again.
    “Thanks for waiting,” Branna said. She climbed the back steps.
    They walked in silence, making their way through the house out to the horseshoe drive.
    “I’m being nosy,” Branna said, hitting the key remote for her car. The trunk of an old Volvo popped open, and she placed her bowl inside. “Do you see that truck over there?” She pointed to an old white pickup as she closed the trunk.
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you know the guy that owns that truck?” Her gaze remained on the vehicle. “Was he here tonight?”
    Her thoughtful gaze made him wonder about her speculation regarding that guy, and her question solidly confirmed what he already knew. She hadn’t put two and two together. “He was there.”
    “Is he a friend of the Westcotts? Does he work at the college?”
    Was she fishing for something? “Yes, he’s acquainted with the Westcotts. Why?”
    The dimly lit driveway made it difficult to see her face, but he hadn’t imagined her grimace.
    “I met him once. I think he bought the Victorian by the lake. I thought maybe...” her words drifted off, and then her face brightened. “Oh, I just wanted to say, hello. That’s all.”
    “Well, I’ll try to remember to introduce the two of you the next time you’re both in the same place.”
    He closed her car door once she was inside. She waved good-bye before driving away.
    The evening had surprised him. She had surprised him more. But what would she do when she learned he and that guy were one and the same?

Chapter 7
    Unwelcomed hints of morning slipped between the slats of the plantation shutters in Branna’s bedroom. She groaned. It was Saturday, and she wanted to sleep in. At home, the day always started early because of a wedding or a ladies’ tea.