Shadows (Bayou Magic 1)

And she hasn’t even said that anything is wrong.

“I was surprised to see the three of you join the tour tonight,” she admits.

“After you left the restaurant this afternoon, Felicia announced that she’d always wanted to go on a ghost tour. She talked us into coming.”

“I hope she had a good time.”

“She did.” I shift from foot to foot, suddenly nervous.

And I’m never nervous.

“I have a question.”

“Sure.”

“Are you involved with anyone? Husband? Boyfriend?”

The smile reaches her eyes now. “No. I’m not involved with anyone.”

“Well, that’s good, because I’d like to ask you out for some coffee.”

“Right now?”

I glance around and then turn back to her. “Sure. If you’re free.”

“Have you been to Café du Monde yet?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

She smiles and motions for me to walk with her. “Then you’re in for a treat. The fastest route is through Jackson Square, but I’d like to go another way if that’s okay.”

“Is it so you have more time with me? It’s all right, you can admit it.”

She laughs loudly. When I take her hand in mine, she doesn’t pull away. “I just have certain routes that I prefer to take through the city. It’s an OCD thing. A quirk, if you will.”

“I don’t mind quirks that keep me in your company.”

We’re quiet as she leads me down the dark streets full of loud people. Music pours from the doors of bars and restaurants. It’s a symphony of noise.

Even if I wanted to chat with her, it would be difficult. But I’m fine just walking together, holding her hand.

I can’t explain it. I barely know her, but I crave her company.

It was as if I recognized her the second I saw her.

With my background in psychology, I could probably tear into the whys and hows of that and make it incredibly not romantic.

Or, I could just enjoy it. Relax.

That’s what I’m supposed to be doing in New Orleans anyway.

“It’s just down here,” she says loudly, pointing to the end of the block. She leads me to the front of the line, and we’re offered a little, round table that has a napkin dispenser on it and nothing else. “The menu is here.”

She points to the side of the dispenser.

“But, if you trust me, I’ll order for us. Just tell me if you want hot or cold coffee.”

I cock a brow, watching as she tucks a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “Cold.”

She nods, and a woman approaches to take our order.

“We’ll have two frozen café au laits, and a family order of beignets,” Brielle says. I pay for the order, and the woman hurries off to fill it.

“So, tell me more about you,” I say.

“Actually,” Brielle says, crossing her legs and watching me closely, “why don’t you tell me about you? All I know is your name. Cash. Is that short for something?”

“It’s short for Cassien. What else would you like to know? You know I’m from Savannah.”

“What do you do for work?”

I fidget in my seat. “I work for the FBI.”

Her brows lift. “You’re an FBI agent?”

“I am.” I nod and lean back when two frozen drinks and a large plate of beignets are set before us. “I’ve been with them for about ten years.”

“What do you do for them?”

“I’m a profiler.”

“Wow, that’s fascinating,” she says and takes a bite of a donut. “Do you profile murderers? Like serial killers?”

“Sometimes.” I nod and watch as she licks some powdered sugar from her lower lip.

I want to lick that lip myself.

“Okay, that’s pretty cool, Cash. I can honestly say I’ve never met a profiler before.”

“That you know of.”

She nods. “True. Do you work out of Savannah?”

“I’m actually based in the Dallas field office, but I travel frequently, going wherever I’m needed.”

“And what are you doing in New Orleans?”

I sigh and suddenly wish the coffee were whiskey.

“I’m on mandatory leave.”

She tips her head to the side. “Did you kill someone in the line of duty?”

“No.” Not this time. “I just came off a pretty intense case. I haven’t taken a vacation in a long time, and my boss pretty much pushed me out the door. I’m not welcome back for a few weeks.”

“That’s quite a vacation.”

“Too long.” I sigh, still frustrated. “I’m not used to being idle. That’s how I found you. Andy and Felicia wanted to go out on a date the other night, and I didn’t want to sit at their place alone, so I went out and found your tour.”

“I’m glad you did,” she says quietly. “Is it weird that I feel like I’ve met you before? I barely know you. You’re a stranger. Yet, here I am, hanging out with you like we’re old friends.”

“It’s not weird, I was just thinking the same. Maybe we met in a former life or something.”

She doesn’t laugh at that. She just narrows her eyes and taps her lips, seeming to give it some thought.