Free Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) by Phoenix Rayne Page A

back into the living room. There was an arrangement of a dozen white roses sitting on the coffee table. I looked at Jyme puzzled. And he gave me the same look right back. I walked over to the arrangement and plunked out the card. It read, “Please consider this arrangement as my white flag” and it was signed D’Artagnan.
    “These are from my boss,” I explained.
    “The drunk guy from last night?” he looked annoyed.
    “Yes.” I answered.
    Jyme held the elevator door for me as I stepped out.
    “Why is he sending you flowers?”
    “I guess he felt bad about last night.”
    “Are you going to keep them?”
    “Jyme, there just flowers.”
    “Whatever,” he said with an attitude. I reached for his hand and he ignored me. I put my hand into his and he finally closed his hand around mine. We walked hand in hand towards the front desk; Randy stood and straightened his jacket. “Ms. Hooper.”
    “CRICKET!” I growled.
    “Cricket.” He smiled at me, and I ginned back.
    “If you don’t mind me saying Mr. Samson, Cricket, you’re a vision,” he explained. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I thanked Randy for his compliment. Jyme nodded back at him.
    The door attendant held the door for us, and Jyme helped me into the truck. I immediately looked over the back seat to make sure we were alone; we were.
    We walked into The New Orleans Creole Restaurant. There was jazz music playing, and everyone looked cheerful and upbeat. We sat immediately and ordered lemon water. I had the Eggplant Lafitte with a side salad, and Jyme ordered the Oyster Bayou with a side of red beans and rice. We both oohed and ahhed through the entire meal. The food was good, and I told him this was my new favorite spot. We ordered a bag of beignets to go. Jyme swore we could eat them at the amphitheater. We made it twenty minutes early; I grabbed the beignet bag, and he went to the back of the truck. He pulled out a cooler, a large piece of plastic, and two blankets. Once we made it down the stairs, he told me to take off my shoes. He pulled his off, and I did the same; we walked onto the grass barefoot. Once we had made it down the small hill, I could see why he packed what he did. Everyone was stretched out on the ground. We passed a few people that spoke to him by name.
    Once we got up towards the front, everyone started calling him Lil Samson and nodding at me. He found the spot he wanted and laid the plastic down putting both blankets on top. He helped me down to the ground and then joined me. He opened the cooler, and it was filled with Perrier water, and canned Cokes. A few people walked by, spoke to Jyme, and then stared at me. It made me feel a little uncomfortable and out of place. Jyme told me that they were not used to seeing him with anyone. He said he was a loner, so this was new for them. I felt better after he explained the situation.
    The lights came up on the stage, and the strings started. They first played a little whimsical number, then a bolder piece, and then a soothing light piece. A few of the couples stood up and started slow dancing to the music. It was very sweet, and I turned around and around watching them all. Some were seated, as couples were up dancing, snuggling, kissing, or dancing to the music. Jyme kissed the side of my exposed neck, and then he shifted around me. I was now sitting in between his legs and I felt my neck get hot. He wrapped his arms around me, and I laid both of my arms on top of his. The strings played slow pieces for the rest of the concert. Jyme kissed my exposed neck repeatedly. He took his time, and he didn’t rush. He did the tracing of the palm thing again, and I felt like a stupid naive teenager. This man gave me chills, and I couldn’t imagine any other place I would rather be. It had only been three days, but in these short days, I had such strong feeling for him. I turned to kiss him, and it was soft, gentle and sweet.
    We gathered our things after the concert, and several people came