Free Deja Voodoo (A Cajun Magic Novel) (Entangled Suspense) by Elle James

come to dinner with Calliope.” She squeezed Calliope’s arm. “Nice to see you dating again.”
    Calliope shook her head. “I’m not—”
    “You two can sit across from Mr. Marceau and Alex.”
    Alex swallowed a moan as her mother sat her friend and Sport across the wide table from where she was expected to eat.
    “Ed, Sport, meet the family.” Her mother pointed as she went. “Ben’s the oldest, and he’s not here right now, but since he sent you here for vacation, you know him already. Alexandra Belle is next, then Harry and Truman, Amelia, Abraham, George Washington, Dolley, Madison, John Kennedy, Thomas, Edison, Paul Revere, Susan B., Woodrow, Eleanor, Teddy, Roosevelt, and Molly B.” She breathed in and sighed. “Did I leave anyone out?”
    “No, Mom,” Alex said. “That about covers it.” This was always the point at which any halfway interesting man her mother had coerced to the dinner table got that glazed look and found a convenient excuse to escape as quickly as possible.
    Her mother shooed some of her siblings into the kitchen to fetch the rest of the meal.
    Alex studied Ed. His eyes weren’t glazed and he didn’t have that deer-in-the-headlights look. In fact, his lips were twitching with what looked like the beginning of a smile. He wasn’t bad-looking. Some women would find him very attractive. Ah, hell, who was she kidding? He was sexy and handsome, and had a great smile.
    Alex’s biggest problem with him was that her mother had set her up, once again, and she wasn’t interested in a relationship. Not now, when she barely had time to run her business. Between the deal she was working to provide hospital employees access to her gym, and now Lucie’s hex, she was booked. No time for love or dating. Still…he was nice-looking and his grip had been firm, not limp like that of some of the men Alex had met. Never mind the electric current that had zipped up her arm at his touch.
    “Is there something I can do to help?” she asked, rather than take her designated seat beside the man who’d seen her practically naked in the street that morning.
    “No, no, Truman and Amelia are—well, bless my soul, there they are now with the fixins.”
    Truman and Amelia entered through the swinging kitchen door, carrying heaping bowls of red beans and rice. They were followed by Dolley, struggling under the weight of a platter spilling over with hush puppies, Madison with a bowl of green tomato relish, and JK carrying two pitchers of iced tea.
    As Amelia passed Alex, she whispered, “He is a hunk, isn’t he? Wouldn’t mind waking up to him every morning.”
    Alex groaned. Even her sister was in on her mother’s plot to marry her off.
    “Please, everyone have a seat.” Barbara Boyette lifted her hands like a conductor and everyone scrambled for their seats. Alex was no exception. Old habits died hard in this family. She pulled out her chair in time for her mother’s hands to fall, and sat, as cued, her shoulder brushing Ed’s.
    She scooted away, glancing down at Molly who had managed to squeeze into the chair beside her. For the first fifteen minutes, most of the conversation centered on passing trays of food and comments praising the chef. She waited for her mother’s usual lead-in to her oldest daughter’s availability.
    Calliope cut Sport’s catfish and Sport managed to spear the bites with his fork, cleaning his plate faster than anyone else. He always did like Mom’s fried catfish when he was lucky enough to get the leftovers.
    Throughout the meal, Alex barely touched her food, her heart lodged in her throat, waiting for Sport to do something that would make her mother ask more than her usual amount of questions.
    When everyone had filled their plates and eaten a good portion of the food, her mother started the conversation. “Mr. Marceau is a friend of Ben’s, up from New Orleans for vacation.”
    “Please, Mrs. Boyette, call me Ed,” he said.
    Alex shoved a forkful of catfish into