Page 64 of The Flirt

"No, I came to rescue her. I was only half successful, but that just earns you a point as her white knight."

"Oh, Julian! Really!" Celine chastised.

"Come on, both of you. I'll walk back to the table with you so can pounce on me some more." Then he looked at Chad. "See? This is me sacrificing for your sake."

After the three of them left, Chad smiled at me. "All good?"

I nodded. "I like your grandmothers."

He looked down at my plate. "I see that you agree with me."

I glanced at the plate and laughed. The only heap of jambalaya I had finished was Isabeau's. "Your grandmother is an excellent chef."

"I'd say so. Listen, the jazz band is going to start playing soon. Do you want to stick around for them?"

"What's the alternative?" I asked, suddenly feeling breathless. When had he stepped closer to me?

"The alternative is you and me somewhere that we're not surrounded by every single LeBlanc and Broussard and their friends."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Can we first listen to jazz and then do that?"

"Sure. Whatever you want.”

I felt good about my decision... for about half an hour. Even though the jazz music was absolutely superb and in a league of its own, I couldn't help but think about whatever was going to come next. What did Chad want to do?

By the time he suggested we go say our goodbyes to the family, I didn't even hesitate. I liked jazz music, but I liked the thought of being alone with Chad a lot more. We didn't even get to speak to everyone because they were all engaged in conversations. And Anthony and Beckett had already left, so clearly a formal goodbye wasn't necessary.

Afterward, we walked back around the gravel path to the entrance. After spending a few hours on my heels, I was already getting blisters, so putting one foot in front of the other was painful, not to mention that it was affecting my balance. I was trying very hard not to let Chad notice, but it was clear that he did because he put an arm around my waist, shepherding me without saying a word.

And I thought I couldn't like this man even more.

Once we stepped outside the gate, he let go of my waist and said, "Scarlett, you look fucking sexy in those heels." I nearly dropped my bag from shock. Holy shit, I hadn't expected him to be so forward. "But I think you're in pain. Don't you want to change into your flats?"

"N-No," I stammered. "Really, this outfit goes best with heels.”

"I was going to suggest we walk for a while so I can show you some of my favorite homes around the neighborhood."

"Okay, okay, I'll change," I said immediately because helloooo, having a local walk with me through the Garden District would be so damn amazing.

As gracefully as possible, I changed my shoes. After I’d secured my heels in the bag, I asked, "Which way? Do you actually live here in the Garden District?"

"No. My parents and grandparents live here, though. I have a house in the Marigny. I didn’t want to be in the French Quarter but needed to be close by."

We walked around the Garden District for about two hours, and Chad was a great guide. He even knew the history behind some of the more famous homes. At around five o’clock, he suggested we head to the French Quarter, but my feet were too sore.

“I really don’t think I can walk anymore,” I admitted.

“No problem. What do you say about me cooking dinner for you at my house?”

Ooooh, danger, danger, danger. Alarm bells rang in my mind. Chad and me alone at his place? This had... sexy potential.

You’re crossing a line, Scarlett. Remember the last time.

But I didn’t want to remember last time. Chad was nothing like Simon.

So instead of coming up with an excuse to go home, I said, “I’d love that.”

Chad smiled triumphantly. “I’ll order us an Uber. Let’s see what you think of my cooking skills. My ex—” He fell silent for a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up.”

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