Page 34 of Absinthe Minded

Maggie, on the other hand, gave me a look that promised pain.

I needed to get her out of there before she laid into me in front of my brother. “Let’s go home.”

She tugged her purse on her shoulder and marched for the door like a woman on a mission.

I took advantage of the situation and winked at Enzo, who looked as stunned as if I’d groped the Virgin Mary herself. So what if he’d misread the situation? If it kept his damned mouth shut, I’d take it.

Outside, Maggie rounded on me. “I can’t go home with you, and don’t kiss me again without permission.”

“I’m staying at your house. It’s a no-brainer you’re going home with me. And I’ll be sure to ask next time my lips come in contact with your body.” I used my bedroom voice on the last bit. I liked her drunk, but she was fun as hell when she was angry.

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone. You don’t know me anymore. We’re practically strangers. Things are complicated enough without adding physical stuff in the mix.”

Strangers who know every square inch of each other’s bodies.

“You’re right.” As much as I wanted to rekindle things with Maggie, I knew better than to push her. Not yet anyway. “How about a walk? I should check in with my staff.”

“Sure, why not.” She folded and unfolded her arms before stuffing her hands in her pockets. The woman had something to say and from the looks of it, something I wouldn’t like.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You had to pick that song. Didn’t you?”

I stopped and turned to her. “I couldn’t have expressed my feelings better if I’d tried.”

If she’d rolled her eyes any harder, they would have done a three-sixty.

“Mags, I’m serious. I’m ashamed of the way I handled things with you. I never should have—”

She walked away.

Maggie didn’t want to talk about it. Point taken. “So was it good for you?”

“What?”

“The kiss.”

She punched my arm. Hard. “I should have turned my head when you came at me all puckered up. My morals go out the window when I’m around you.”

“Don’t blame me for your lack of morals. Blame the whiskey.” I chuckled to cover my frustration and guided her up Ursuline toward Bourbon.

12

Maggie

People crowded the sidewalks,and more would arrive in the coming weeks. Fat Tuesday, the biggest party in the city, would swell the city’s population by millions. Walking with Gabe here reminded me of better days. Days when we’d been happy together. Although much of our time together had involved a bed, we’d spent many hours enjoying the French Quarter.

We entered his bar on Bourbon Street and ran into a wall of noise. The body heat alone made the space twenty degrees warmer than the sidewalk. Gabe guided me to a stool behind the bar and said something to the female bartender.

She glanced at me and nodded.

Recognizing the tall brunette, I grinned and waved at Gabe’s cousin, Jessie.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned at the screen.

“Trouble?” I motioned to his cell.

“No.” Leaning in close, he fondled the beads between my breasts. “I need to go in back and check tomorrow’s delivery schedule. Are you okay here for a few minutes?”

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