The Right Kind of Crazy (Love, New Orleans Style Book 6) Read online

  “Sensible,” Flynn murmured, thinking the opposite. Then he thought of his brother. “What about on the second date?”

  “That depends.” Sami gunned the accelerator. “But that’s personal and I don’t know you so I believe we should change the subject.”

  He gave her one of his slow smiles. He’d bet he could make her break her rule about first dates. But it wasn’t something he was going to put to the test. Just the possibility that she and Sean might have done it made something inside him tighten up. He missed his brother so much he couldn’t stand it if he thought about him too often. “Good idea,” he said.

  Sami slowed the pace of the car and concentrated on avoiding the worst of the potholes on the well-traveled street. What was it with guys? She knew he’d been staring at her breasts since they’d gotten into the car. He was way more intrigued with what she might look like naked than with exploring the theoretical bases for questionnaire development in her search for true love. What had Cameron Scott said about Flynn? The tragedy of the perpetual playboy. And Scott should know. His sexual exploits in his pre-Jonni days had been fodder for the tabloids for years. He and his pal carried mirror DNA. “I need our destination,” she said, swerving to avoid a Coke delivery truck stopped in the lane of traffic. A few horns blared but she ignored them. Driving in New Orleans was fun.

  “Right,” he said.

  She saw him loosen his grip on the seat. “Seriously, Mr. Lawrence,” she said, “you have nothing to fear from my driving style. It is one area in which I allow myself free expression and I have yet to suffer an accident.”

  “In every other aspect of life you maintain rigid control?”

  “That would be a valid conclusion.” She glanced over at him. To her surprise he was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Ever. You lecture me on living in the moment and then proclaim you are in control of your life 24/7. Babe, you need to let go. Live a little. Quit driving with the brake on.”

  “When I need advice, Mr. Lawrence, I will research and locate an appropriate, qualified resource.”

  “Pull over.”

  “Here?” Sami indicated the warehouses and rundown commercial buildings.

  “Yep.”

  Maybe he had to find a restroom and didn’t want to ask. Sami slowed and pulled to the curb by an empty lot. She turned toward him, expecting him to be getting out of the car. Instead, he was leaning toward her. He pushed his sunglasses atop his head and slipped hers off her face. Too late, she noted the dangerous glint in his eyes.

  “Mr. Law—“

  “Hush,” he said, his hands around her head, pulling her close. He tilted her face and as she opened her lips to ask him if he’d lost his mind, he lowered his mouth to hers. Sami gasped. He nuzzled her mouth with his and when she gasped again, claimed her mouth, her tongue, her throat.

  She moaned and tipped her head back. He leaned into the kiss, and moved one hand to her knee, teasing her until she moaned again and kissed him back greedily.

  Slowly, he lifted his hand from her inner thigh, raised his head, and threw himself back against his side of the car. “Damn,” he said. “I never should have done that.”

  Sami snatched her sunglasses back while she commanded her pulse to quit pounding. She smoothed her skirt, all the while refusing to look at Flynn. She should have been angry with him, but she was far more upset with herself for responding to his kiss. She knew darn well he saw her as just another babe, another score. He certainly wasn’t interested in her as a person. “You are correct,” she said, once she thought she could maintain a calm voice.

  “Have you ever done something you know you shouldn’t have done?” he said, quirking a brow at her.

  Sami put the car in motion while she considered his question. Reflection helped her restore her breathing and her sense of self-possession. “I don’t believe I have,” she said at last. “You have yet to supply me with the Scotts’ address.”

  He named a street address in Lakeview.

  Sami entered it into her GPS.

  He’d started whistling under his breath. It wasn’t a tune she recognized but she could tell he was a good whistler. Listening, she followed the directions in silence. After that kiss, there wasn’t much to say. They would arrive at the Scotts’; she would meet her hostess, stay a short while, and be on her way. She’d never see Flynn Lawrence again.

  She bumped over the horrible streets of Lakeview, still in terrible shape years after the levee failures. Probably because she was forced to drive slowly, he’d let go of his grasp on the seat and armrest.

  He stopped whistling. “Where are you going tomorrow?” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Back at the production office you said you were leaving town first thing tomorrow.”

  Ah, so the man did have listening skills. Sami considered whether she should tell him, but didn’t see any harm in making conversation. They were almost to their destination. “Nashville.”

  He made a noise that sounded as if he had swallowed a bone and it was stuck in his throat.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He punched his chest. “Sure. Swallowed funny. Why Nashville?”

  “I’m teaching a summer class and house-sitting for my parents.

  “Parents. As in your original mother and father?”

  Sami looked over at him. “That’s an odd question, but yes, my birth parents.”

  “No divorce and remarriage in your family line?” He sounded both wistful and belligerent.

  Sami shook her head.

  “Siblings?”

  She shook her head again.

  “I guess that’s why you’re seeking true love. You’ve seen it’s possible.”

  Sami decided not to reply to that observation. “And what about your family?”

  Flynn waved his hand. “Oh, the usual. Single mother. Two latch key kids. A sperm donor who couldn’t be bothered sticking around.”

  Sami’s instinct was to speak words of comfort. This man was carrying a chip on his shoulder, the pain of a little boy who’d never known his daddy. But if she said anything kind, he’d reject it. She’d seen that when she’d offered sympathy for Sean’s death. “Ergo, Mister Playboy?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s not analyze me, okay?”

  Sami hit the brakes, right in the middle of the street without checking her rear view mirror. “So it’s okay to analyze me but not you? What kind of a game is that?”

  The screech of brakes rent the air.

  She tensed, but no impact followed. The car behind her had stopped in time.

  Flynn stared at Sami. “You swear you’ve never been in an accident?” Why did he have trouble believing her?

  She nodded. “No harm done.”

  “This time,” Flynn muttered. “Turn right here, then into the second driveway.”

  She hit the brake and he almost hit the dash. He reminded himself to always fasten his seat belt with Sami behind the wheel, and then as quickly remembered he’d never see her again. He’d be taking a cab back to collect his car. Funny, but the ride alone in the car with only himself for company would be pretty dull. He pushed that thought out of his mind. As soon as she stopped the car, he jumped out and rounded to the driver’s door. Sami was already pushing the door open.

  She stepped out, showing a whole lot of leg as her linen skirt hitched up. He pulled his gaze away.

  “Do you mind a man holding a door for you?”

  “I really don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never considered the question.” She pulled her sunglasses off. “I’m used to doing things myself.”

  Her eyes were a remarkable green with flecks of gold. Flynn pocketed his sunglasses. “You have amazing eyes,” he said, studying them closely. “More emerald than jade.”

  Sami slipped past Flynn, safely out of his reach should he attempt another stealth kiss. “And you have a remarkably smooth tongue,” she said. �
�Shall we go in?”

  He didn’t budge. “Do you have a rule against compliments?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Hmm, you sure?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Who wouldn’t enjoy a compliment? A heartfelt compliment?” She’d actually been a teeny bit thrilled at what he’d said, until she remembered who was speaking. Flynn Lawrence, ladies’ man.

  He smacked his forehead. “You think I’m just playing with you, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” She tipped her head to one side, considering the gleam in his eyes and the quirk to his lips. “I think you’re a bit like a cat that goes after a mouse because it can’t help its nature. Nothing can distract the cat from batting the mouse about, until suddenly it’s dead. And as soon as the mouse quits moving, the cat is done with it. No more challenge.”

  He gave a low whistle. “I do like a challenge.”

  Sami shook her head. “No you don’t. You like to pretend you do, but if you don’t get what you want instantaneously, you move on. Am I right?”

  He frowned, moving his gaze from her to some point over her shoulder. Clearly he was focusing on some memory, some faraway scene. “Let’s go in,” he said, turning abruptly toward the sidewalk that led around to the front of the house from the drive.

  She’d hit a nerve. Perhaps it had to do with what he’d said about his daddy being a sperm donor. Perhaps she should have gone into clinical psychology rather than philosophy. At the time she’d chosen her major her parents had sat her down and explained how disappointed they were at her decision. For her parents, nothing mattered outside of the hard sciences. For them even psych would have been a poor choice.

  Sami followed Flynn up the sidewalk. They reached the door without either one of them speaking. He raised his hand to knock.

  “I don’t know why,” he said, “but I’ve enjoyed meeting you. Sometimes I find myself in Nashville on business. I don’t suppose…”

  Was he asking her out? Sami stared at him, eyes wide. Was he possibly interested in her as a woman, a person, a human being with thoughts and feelings and goals and actualized potential? Or could he simply not help himself? Did he need to score with every “babe” he met?

  “I don’t—“

  The front door flew open. Two youngsters raced through, throwing their arms around Flynn. “Uncle Flynn! Uncle Flynn! I lost a tooth. I lost two teeth!”

  He dropped down and collected the kids, one in each arm, and carried them into the house. “Erika. Larry. Tell Uncle Flynn all about it,” he said.

  Sami’s jaw dropped.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A woman Sami recognized as Jonni Scott approached the door, smiling at the kids and waving a hello to Flynn.

  “Please, welcome to the zoo,” she said, holding out a hand and guiding Sami into the foyer. “You must be Sami Pepper.”

  Sami nodded. “Yes. Thank you, and your husband, for the invitation. I hope it’s not an imposition for an extra guest to appear with almost no notice.”

  Jonni patted her hand. “There’s no such thing as an extra guest in our home. Anyway, the other couple had to cancel due to one of their kids coming down with mumps. Tonight it’s family and Cameron has burgers on the grill. Unless you’re a vegetarian, and we have tofu steaks.” She sighed. “Erika, our daughter, is a vegetarian, so we always have tofu steaks on hand.”

  “Burgers are fine,” Sami said. “But if it’s a family night, I’ll be on my way. I definitely know no one wants a stranger at the table.”

  “Cameron has never met a stranger,” Jonni said, a smile on her lips and in her eyes.

  “That’s so sweet,” Sami said. “I must tell you I love your children’s books.”

  “Thank you, Sami,” Jonni said. “Cameron mentioned you are a fan and that you read them to all your friend’s children.”

  Sami nodded.

  “And one day you’ll read them to your children, too,” Jonni said. “Come on in. We may need to rescue Flynn from Erika and Larry.”

  “From what I’ve seen of Flynn, he can talk himself out of any situation,” Sami said, before she realized how rude that might sound.

  Jonni only laughed. Then she grew more thoughtful. “You know, Flynn has been grieving his brother’s death and we’re worried about him. I understand you knew his brother? So please accept my sympathy for the loss.”

  They were moving through the house, down a broad hallway with a high ceiling. Off to one side Sami heard giggles and chortles and children’s voices. In the distance, someone was playing a piano. She followed Jonni into a gleaming chef’s kitchen and through French doors out to a sweeping terrace that bordered a pool and Jacuzzi.

  Cameron was stationed behind a grill. He waved a metal spatula. “Hey, Sami,” he said. “Did you ditch Flynn along the way?”

  Sami grinned. “I did consider that action. But, no, he’s playing with two children.”

  Cameron nodded. “They love their Uncle Flynn. Too bad he’s dead set against having his own rug rats.”

  “Oh?” Sami didn’t want to sound too interested.

  “May I get you something to drink?” Jonni pointed to a small bar. “Wine? Cocktail? Kombucha?”

  “White wine would be lovely,” Sami said. One drink and she’d make her excuses. She was an interloper at a family dinner.

  Jonni poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. She filled a glass with seltzer water for herself and carried a beer over to Cameron. “Yes,” Jonni said, “Flynn is great with kids but he’s determined to play the field his entire life. He’s afraid he’ll turn out like his father.”

  “The sperm donor?” Sami said.

  “He told you that story?” Cameron sounded impressed.

  Sami nodded.

  “Hmm,” Cameron said.

  “Cameron said you’re leaving New Orleans in the morning,” Jonni said. “Where are you going?”

  “To Nashville. I’m teaching a summer course.”

  “Nashville.” Jonni and Cameron said the name of the city in one breath, and then exchanged glances.

  “Interesting,” Cameron said. “Flynn has a lot of clients based in Nashville. Even has an office there.”

  “He mentioned he’s there on business occasionally,” Sami said, sipping her wine.

  Cameron glanced over at Jonni. Jonni smiled at her husband.

  Sami couldn’t help but sigh. These two were so connected, so bonded. She didn’t know what they were communicating with one another, but she loved witnessing their understanding, their knowing-ness.

  “Mommy!” A tornado of a little boy burst out onto the patio. “Uncle Flynn says he can’t come back tomorrow!”

  Jonni beckoned him to her side and brushed his tousled hair with one hand. “He’s here now,” she said. “Let’s enjoy his visit.”

  The boy, who Sami thought might be three or four, cocked his head. “Good point,” he said, and raced off into the house.

  Sami heard an almost-immediate “whoof!” and Flynn appeared, walking the boy on the tops of his feet.

  “Anyone lose a munchkin?” Flynn said. “I seem to have a spare one.”

  The boy giggled.

  The girl marched through the doors. She was maybe eight or nine, dressed in ballet tights, tutu and point shoes. “I simply cannot perform without an audience,” she declared.

  Jonni smiled at Sami. “I did say ‘welcome to the zoo.’”

  Sami returned her smile. What a wonderful, warm, wacky atmosphere. So different from her own home life as a child. Practice. Perfect. Perform. Research. Write. Publish.

  “Fix yourself a drink, Flynn,” Cameron called from his position behind the grill. “Dinner is served in five minutes.”

  Flynn eased the boy off his feet. “Later, rascal,” he said, and the boy turned to pestering his older sister by pulling at the tulle of her tutu. He strolled to the small bar, hoisted a beer, popped the cap and moved over to stand beside Cameron.

  “It’s still nice enough to eat outside,” J
onni said. “Once the heat comes, I’m forced to move into the AC. Especially when I’m pregnant.”

  Sami considered her hostess’s glass of sparkling water. “Oh,” was all she could say.

  “I know you won’t give up our secret to the tabloids,” Jonni said. “Cameron said you were looking for Sean but stumbled over Flynn instead. Between you and me, Flynn probably has a larger heart. But I guess I shouldn’t say that, given what’s happened. It’s only that Cam and I would love to see Flynn settle down, fall in love, and live happily ever after.”

  Sami sighed. “Just like you and Cameron.”

  Jonni nodded. “Not everyone gets so lucky, but we always want the best for our friends.”

  “Burgers are done!” Cameron called. “Come fix your plates and grab your buns.”

  They bustled about and settled at an outdoor table, Sami and Flynn on one side, Cameron and Jonni on the other and the two children at each end.

  Erika took a bite of her tofu burger. “Thank you for fixing this for me,” she said.

  Jonni smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you Uncle Flynn’s newest girlfriend?” Erika said.

  Sami froze, thankful she’d just taken a bite of burger.

  “She’s my friend,” Flynn said. “Not the same as girlfriend. You can’t call a woman a girl.”

  Erika giggled. “Is she your woman friend?”

  Sami quickly took another bite of her burger.

  “She is a woman. She is a friend.” Flynn leaned over and flicked a finger against Erika’s cheek. “Let’s just leave it at that, ok?”

  Erika nodded.

  “So you’re headed to Nashville tomorrow,” Cameron said.

  Sami nodded.

  “So’s Flynn,” Jonni said.

  “Driving?” Cameron asked.

  Sami nodded.

  “By yourself?”

  She nodded again, feeling nervous.

  “Flynn, why don’t you two share the driving duties? Head up together?” That was Cameron, digging into his burger as if not paying much attention to the conversation. “That is, of course, Sami, if you think you could put up with this guy for the eight or so hour-drive?”