All Smoke No Fire by Randi Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

“I don’t know anything but roughnecking, so I’ll just keep doing that until I find something else to do.”
    As Beth executed a flawless U-turn, Marilou watched Dax. He had no idea how quickly his music career was about to take off. “You can see the river.” She pointed out the other side of the bus.
    He stepped to the opposite windows. “It’s big.”
    “Yep.” She’d be sure to book them on a paddleboat ride.
    Beth pulled the bus into a cutout in front of a hotel and shifted into park, letting the bus idle. “You’re home.”
    Marilou loved to hear those words.
    “You live in a hotel?” He tipped his head to look way up at the skyscraper.
    Grabbing her bags, she laughed. “No, but the streets in the Quarter are too narrow for the bus, so we’ll walk the last few blocks.”
    Dax slung his duffle bag strap across his chest and took her makeup bag and suitcase from her, leaving her with only her purse.
    “I can carry—”
    He winked. “I’m old-school. Carry a lady’s gear for her.” He stepped aside and she preceded him off the bus. “Have a safe trip home.” She waved to Beth who just grinned as she closed the door and shifted the bus into gear.
    “They’re from Kansas, right?” Dax followed her along the sidewalk, then when she took a right turn, he stopped.
    “Wow, is this it?” He looked around at the old, squat buildings.
    “The French Quarter.” She breathed deeply through her nose. “Smell that? It’s the smell of tropical vegetation mixed with decay, the Mississippi mingling with Cajun spices, French champagne and sweet red cocktails.”
    He inhaled, then looked down at her. “We should write a song about it.”
    “That would be fun.” She got them moving again, down damp cobblestone streets, past restaurants and shops with gas lamps gracing the entrances. Deep into the heart of the Quarter.
    “What’s all the light over there?” He pointed to their left.
    “Bourbon Street. Touristy, but fun. We’ll get there a night or two so you can get your fill.”
    “You’re the tour guide. Whatever you say goes.” He lagged behind, stopping to look at a plant, or drop a few dollars into a street musician’s bucket.
    Marilou stopped in front of her condo, feeling for the nearly-invisible cover over her keypad. The square shotgun house had been converted into two condos, and when the door popped open, they stepped into the foyer with steps leading up to her home.
    At the top of the steps, she flicked on the light and glanced around the open floorplan before she set her purse on the little oak table surrounded by four matching chairs.
    “Very nice.” He set down his bags and walked to the front windows. “What’s that?”
    She wandered over to him, resting her hand on one of the two red wingback chairs that faced into the room. The couch, in a modern pattern, ran the length of the small room, facing the gas fireplace and television.
    Dax pointed to the green striped awning a few blocks away.
    “Café du Monde. Coffee and beignets.”
    He looked at her, waiting for more.
    “We’ll go there as soon as I change.”
    “We’re going out tonight?” He grinned and pulled her into his arms.
    “Your first night in The Big Easy…ever? Hell yeah, we’re going out. It’s not even midnight.”
    He leaned in for a kiss, his lips firm and warm against hers. When his hands slid to her ass, pulling her belly tight against his hardening shaft, she slowed the kiss and leaned back.
    “I’m hungry for some gumbo.” Wiggling her belly against his erection, she licked her lips. “Then I’m hungry for this.”
    Dax growled but let her loose. They hauled the bags into her small bedroom and she made a space on her mahogany dresser for his duffle.
    He looked out the windows that faced north. “Bourbon Street?”
    She glanced that way. “Yep. That’s why the curtains are heavy and black. It’s like daylight all night on that street.”
    “Can’t wait.” Sitting on the queen-sized bed,