CHAPTER

Eleven

IT HAD BEEN seventeen days—not that Summer had been counting or anything—since Jamie told her he loved her, and she was still flying. Things had been more amazing than ever between them. The sex, the kink, and every simple and complicated moment in between. They’d been to the zoo and it had been one of the most romantic days they’d had together. And tonight they were having dinner with Mick, Allie and Duff before everyone headed to The Bastille for a special burlesque performance, followed by a night of play.

Before she’d met Jamie’s hulking cousin, she might have thought it would be uncomfortable being at the club with him there, but despite his gruff exterior and his unarguably Dominant ways, she felt incredibly comfortable with Duff. She’d been bringing the guys lunch on her days off, and sometimes dinner at the end of the day while they worked on getting the new half of the shop pulled together, and she and Duff had had the opportunity to get to know each other. It seemed important, and he was coming to feel like a big brother to her.

Jamie was working harder than ever, but they still found ways to make every moment count. He was at her cozy little house almost every night, and she loved waking up in his arms in the morning. It was those quiet moments she loved most—when the sun was rising and the whole world was just coming alive. But tonight was going to be fun—their first big social night in a while.

They’d decided to meet at Muriel’s, despite the fact that it was just off Jackson Square in the heart of the busy tourist district. But the food was some of the best Creole fare to be found in the city, and Allie and Summer were both in love with the décor: the exposed brick walls, the sheer curtains hanging from the high ceilings that divided the tables, even—or most especially—the Voodoo symbols all over the bathroom stall doors. It had such a New Orleans feel to it, and they’d all decided to brave the tourists packing the sidewalks in favor of a great meal in an environment that held such gritty charm.

The cab pulled up in front of the restaurant and she and Jamie got out. He held her hand as they crossed the narrow cobblestone street.

“You looking forward to this, sweetheart?”

“Yes, to everything—dinner with our friends, the food, then getting to The Bastille later.”

“It’s been too long,” he said, smiling down at her, his green eyes gleaming in the lamplight.

“It has. I’m sure you’ll manage to make that my fault.”

“Of course I will. All the better to punish you with,” he said, leaning in to steal a kiss. She loved the quiet threat in his voice—it always made her shiver.

“Ach, that’s enough, you lovebirds,” Duff said. He was waiting for them at the door to the restaurant.

“You’re just jealous,” Jamie said.

“I am at that,” his cousin agreed before taking Summer in one of his usual bear hugs. He let her go and stepped back. “But maybe tonight my luck will change.” He wiggled his dark brows, making Summer laugh.

“You haven’t had time to try your luck,” she protested.

“True enough. And about time I took a night off to see if your dungeon girls are to my liking.”

“I’m absolutely certain they will be,” Summer told him. “And Allie and Mick will be able to introduce you around. Oh—and I’m pretty sure Finn and Rosie will be at the club, too.”

“All right, all right, enough cuddling with my girl,” Jamie said in mock irritation, pulling her gently away from Duff.

“What? I don’t cuddle,” Duff protested.

“Of course you don’t, cousin. Come on—let’s go see if Mick and Allie are here yet,” Jamie suggested.

They went inside and found their friends at a long table half-hidden behind one of the sweeping chiffon drapes. It took a minute or two for everyone to say hello—Duff had already met Mick on a few of his previous trips to New Orleans, and Allie’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, so she’d dropped by the shop the week before. It was a comfortable group, and they lingered over their meal. As the men’s discussion of vintage motorcycles hit the second hour of the night, it left Allie to nudge Summer about her relationship with Jamie.

“So, how are things with you two?”

Summer knew she was beaming. “Amazing.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Have you two talked about the future? Moving in together or anything?”

“I don’t know. He’s with me almost every night anyway. And he and Duff have the new business to think about. Anyway, we’ve only been seeing each other for a month and a half.”

“You’ve known each other forever. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. But the dating part, the being a couple part, is still relatively new.”

Allie lowered her voice. “But there’s a commitment, right? Since I’ve been traveling with Mick off and on the last few weeks we haven’t really had a chance to talk, and I have to know.” She grinned. “I’m sorry, hon, but Rosie and I have been dying. You’ve been so busy with him we haven’t heard anything, and of course Mick isn’t saying a damn thing, if he even knows. That ‘bromance’ pact of silence.”

Summer couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, there’s commitment. We don’t see anyone else, even play with anyone else, while we figure this thing out.”

“It seems to me there isn’t much to figure out. And I’m rarely wrong about these things.”

“Jesus. What is it with everyone being right lately?”

Allie shrugged and tucked a small piece of bread in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “It is what it is, hon. And in this city, you’d do best not to ignore the signs.”

Summer bit her lip. “Maybe. It can be a little scary if I think about it too much, though. Like I’ll . . . jinx it or something.”

Allie rubbed her hand over Summer’s back. “Aw, I’m sorry, honey. I’ll shut up now. Let’s just enjoy our night out. I’m looking forward to the burlesque troupe they’re having at the club tonight.”

“Me, too,” she agreed.

But her own words were sticking in her mind, making her roll and unroll the napkin in her hands beneath the table. She’d been ignoring the small fear in the back of her mind that she really could jinx the wonderful thing happening between her and Jamie. It was stupid, she knew, but she couldn’t quite shake the thought. And the closer they got, the more there was to lose. Anytime she wasn’t with him or staying too busy to think, the fear came creeping over her. Her only comfort in those times was going out to her garden and digging in the earth—and oddly, the aloof Madame had recently taken to curling up next to her on the sofa or the bed and letting Summer pet her. Stroking the old cat’s fur was soothing, whether she was stressing or not. Not that she really needed to be soothed. Did she?

She gave herself a mental shake as she reached for Jamie’s hand. He paused in his conversation to glance at her, to bring her hand to his lips and brush a kiss across her fingers.

Tonight was not the time to worry over silliness. Allie was right. They had a wonderful evening ahead, and she planned to enjoy every moment of it.

Just in case . . .

*   *   *

THE BASTILLE WAS busy when they arrived—everyone had come out for the burlesque show that was about to begin. Summer stood between Jamie and Duff, which always felt as if she had a pair of bodyguards with her. She had to admit she sort of loved it.

The lighting in the dungeon tonight was more red than amber, with a spotlight on the stage at the back of the main room. The music started, and from offstage came a saucy, rich alto voice singing “You Can Leave Your Hat On.” The headliner strutted out in her gorgeous finery, followed by eight backup girls, and the performance began. There were cheers and whistles from the crowd, and Summer lost herself in the show as they sang and danced and peeled their way through four more sultry songs. When it was over Jamie grabbed her hand and their group found an empty social area with three couches. A few moments later they were joined by Finn—a towering blond Aussie who was as tall as Duff and even more packed with muscle—and Summer and Allie’s friend Rosie, a dark-haired, heavily tattooed beauty. The guys set down their play bags—all of them black duffels—and she, Rosie and Allie sat down, followed by the men. She was discussing the burlesque performer’s gorgeous costumes with the other girls when Duff let out a low whistle.