No Time Like Mardi Gras by Kimberly Lang Read Free Book Online

first—figuratively, at least, by fawning over David—so Jamie didn’t feel really bad about it for long.
    Colin returned with their drinks and caught her frowning at her phone as she typed. “Everything okay?”
    “Yeah.” She hit send and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. “Kelsey’s going home.” She was pleased to see disappointment flash across Colin’s face. “I told her I’d meet her there later.”
    Colin moved closer, a finger hooking in her pocket to tilt her hips toward his. “There’s not a lot of later left of tonight.”
    She smiled up at him in what she hoped was a seductive manner. “Then I really need to enjoy what there is of it.” Now would be a good time for you to suggest we go back to your place, get a shower... “What do you suggest—”
    The question was interrupted by an earsplitting siren wail. She saw more than heard Colin curse as he grabbed her hand.
    “What’s going on?” she shouted, wanting to cover her ears as the siren wailed on and a surge of people pressed toward them.
    “It’s midnight. They’re clearing the streets.” Colin pulled her against his chest as he tried to move sideways through the crowd toward the sidewalk. More sirens and honking horns joined the din, and her head began to throb from the noise. Jamie peeked over her shoulder to see a horizontal line of mounted police officers visible above the crowd and the strobe of red-and-blue police lights as they moved down Bourbon Street, instructing people by loudspeaker that Mardi Gras was over and they needed to clear the streets.
    She was tripping over her own feet, being jostled from all sides, and only Colin’s grip on her kept her from falling. The noise, the surge of people...it was the first time all evening that she’d felt scared, and she worried what would happen if she did fall. She gripped Colin’s wrist with her free hand and trusted him to get them both through the melee.
    At the corner—Jamie wasn’t sure of which street—an influx of people caused a moment of gridlock. A girl bumped into her, and Jamie felt the heat of a lit cigarette against her arm. She jumped, trying to get away from the burn, and opened up a few inches of space between herself and Colin.
    Those few inches, though, were all it took, as someone tried to move into the opening between them, forcing them farther apart. Colin’s grip on her wrist tightened as he tried to shove the person out of the way and pull her back to him. Now she was trapped: a surge of cross traffic pulling her one way as Colin was pushed in the other direction, and the idiot who’d started it all was pressing against the arm Colin held, causing pain to shoot up from her elbow to her shoulder as though she was being stretched on the rack.
    She could barely see Colin’s head above the crowd. His lips were moving, but the sirens and crowd noise drowned the words out. Her grip on his wrist began to fail and while Colin’s grip tightened more, pressing her watch painfully into her skin, his hand began to slip, too, until the connection was broken.
    Jamie had no choice but to go with the flow. Her ears were ringing, her wrist was burning and her shoulder felt loose in the socket. Unable to see over the shoulders of those around her, she followed the crowd blindly, figuring eventually it would have to break. It was a slow-moving crowd, but a very thick one, and with all of her attention required to remain on her feet, she lost track of how long she’d been in the surge. There was a scuffle to her right and she caught an elbow in the head, causing her to see stars, and she began to panic a little.
    The panic actually motivated her and she began to elbow her way out of the pack, finally reaching clear air and less congestion. Nothing looked familiar, and the street signs didn’t help much beyond their distinctive style telling her she was still in the French Quarter.
    There was no way in hell she was going back the way she came—even assuming it