My Best Friend's Mardi Gras Wedding Read online

  “Is that right?”

  “New Orleans has nothin’ on the bayou, Iowa.”

  Him calling her Iowa even gave her tingles. “Just being outside is enough?” She could relate to that. There was no city that could ever compare to being outside on the farm for her.

  “Yep. We’ve got stars overhead and frogs and crickets to serenade you and nice, quiet back roads where no one will bother you for days.” He leaned in. “And humidity that’ll make you want to strip right down to nothin’.”

  His voice was low and gruff and Tori felt like stripping right down to nothing right here.

  “Mosquitos the size of small birds and alligators.”

  Josh chuckled. “All the more reason to stay close to a bayou boy who knows how to take care of all of that.”

  She smiled. “So going down to the bayou with you tonight would be fine, but I shouldn’t take you back to my hotel room?”

  He seemed to think about that for a moment. Then he blew out a breath, leaned in and gave her a soft, lingering kiss that curled her toes, and then let her go. “Nah. Probably not.”

  Tori tamped down her disappointment. “It wouldn’t be safe?” she asked lightly.

  “Well, you might never want to leave. I’m guessing there are some people in Iowa who’d miss you.” He gave her a little half smile.

  She nodded. Yeah, it was for the best that she just tuck this memory away and not get hung up on a playboy bartender from Louisiana. Really, where was that going to go?

  “In that case, quit coming after me when I go to leave, okay?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. This time.”

  She started to turn.

  “Probably.”

  She glanced back.

  “Just don’t…”

  Her eyebrows rose.

  “Don’t square-dance with…too many guys.”

  “Too many?”

  He shrugged. “I was going to say with ‘anyone’ but that sounded a little ridiculous.”

  She laughed. “I told you I don’t square-dance at all.”

  He nodded.

  She turned away again and took a step. Then heard him say, “And don’t…”

  Tori smiled, but hid it before she turned around. “Yes?”

  “Don’t go stargazing with anyone else. You want stars, I’ll give you stars.”

  Whoa. What the hell was going on here? This was crazy. And romantic. And…crazy. “I’ve got stars at home,” she admitted. “And crickets and frogs and quiet back roads.”

  He just stood looking at her for a long moment.

  “And beer,” she added when he didn’t say anything.

  Finally he nodded. “Good. That’s good. You seem like the beer and back roads kind of girl.”

  She really was. But how did he know that? She looked down at her outfit. A summer dress and sandals. She could be from anywhere in these clothes. “Yeah?” she asked.

  “It’s in your eyes.”

  Those eyes went round.

  He shrugged as if he didn’t get it either.

  “Well, you’re right,” she told him.

  He looked pleased about that. “So go on, get out of here. Go back to your Yankee stars. And don’t trust anyone with a Louisiana drawl or a plastic souvenir cup of any kind.”

  She laughed. “What about a bayou drawl?” She could definitely hear the difference.

  “Yeah, definitely don’t trust any of those. They’ll get you hooked on sweet tea and crawfish pie and you won’t even remember how to spell Iowa.”

  Yeah, that’s not what she would be hooked on. Because she felt a little hooked already and there wasn’t a crawfish in sight.

  “Thanks for…whatever this is,” she finally said.

  He laughed. “You bet. And trust me, I don’t know what the hell it is either.”

  That was maybe the best thing he could have said. He was letting her go and he didn’t know why, but it was clearly not because he wanted to.

  This was so interesting.

  Tori finally turned and managed to get to the end of the block without him stopping her. She paused at the corner and looked back. He was still watching her.

  Her heart thumped. But she turned and kept walking. All the way back to her hotel.

  And the next night when she walked into Bourbon O again and Josh looked up, his gaze locking on hers in spite of the madness of the crowd that wasn’t much thinner now than it was Ash Wednesday—supposedly a holy day— and his face broke into the biggest, most sincere grin she’d ever seen, she knew she’d made the right choice coming back.

  * * *

  Now…

  * * *

  Tori took another deep breath.

  This was it.

  She was going inside. She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear and her fingers brushed over the mask she wore.

  The mask she wore.

  She was anonymous in this mask. Josh wouldn’t even know it was her. Until she decided to tell him. She could go in there and see if he was working, even watch him for a little bit and confirm that she wanted to see him again. If so, she could take the mask off. If not, she could still hang out with Andrew and forget about her stupid fantasy about the guy falling in love with her after just a kiss. Okay, two kisses. Still…that was crazy.

  She stepped through the doorway and into a crowd of people. Wow, there were just people everywhere. She’d stupidly been hoping that the classier bar and restaurant would have a smaller crowd. But she didn’t know why’d she thought that. Last year had been the same.

  Someone bumped into her from behind, then someone else crashed into her left side. A splash of the girl’s drink hit the toe of her boot. Tori glared at the drunk redhead, but the girl didn’t even realize she’d spilled. She was too busy making out with the guy who had swung her around, causing her to hit Tori.

  Tori sighed. She couldn’t blame the girl. Sometimes you just had to go with it. And when “it” was a hot Southern boy, you really had to.

  She didn’t know that this guy was from here, but in her head, every guy sweeping a girl off her feet was a bayou boy. She was clearly not here just for Andrew.

  Fingering her mask again, reassuring herself that Josh would only know she’d shown up if she let him see her, Tori started for the bar.

  Oh God, what was she going to do if he didn’t remember her?

  She swallowed hard and focused on the people behind the bar. Thankfully they weren’t wearing masks.

  The first person she saw was a guy about Josh’s age, but it wasn’t him. Neither was the next guy. There were also two girls. But no Josh.

  She glanced around but only saw waitresses. Not that she could see every person in the bar, but she remembered Josh saying he was really good at his job, and his boss put up with him because of his talents as a bartender. Surely he’d be manning the bar on a night like this. If he was here.

  If he wasn’t here, working, then…would he be here to meet her? Would he show up just for her? Would he even remember asking her to come back?

  Finally, unable to stand the way she was worrying, she pushed her way between two people at the bar and leaned in to get the bartender’s attention.

  “Hey, what can I get ya?” he half-yelled over the noise.

  “Is Josh Landry working tonight?” she asked. Might as well just meet this head-on.

  “Sorry. Don’t know a Josh.”

  “He doesn’t work here anymore?” she asked, surprised. That hadn’t occurred to her as an option. Stupidly.

  The guy looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Kara!”

  Kara. Tori remembered the woman’s name from last year. Not that there couldn’t be multiple Karas in New Orleans…

  “Yeah?”

  “You know a Josh Landers?”

  “Landry,” Tori corrected.

  “Landry!” the bartended yelled.

  “Yeah, what about him?” Kara was pouring two beers at once and looked harried.

  Tori felt a little bad. But this wa
s about finding Josh.

  “He used to work here?” the guy asked her.

  “Yeah. Quit a while back though.”

  “You know where he works now?” the bartender asked.

  “Autre!” Kara called back.

  The bartender looked back at Tori. “Autre.”’

  “Is that a bar here on Bourbon?” Tori asked. Damn, she’d have to brave the crowd on the street again. But she was willing. All the love songs talked about people being willing to walk five hundred miles and endure other hardships to get to the one they loved. Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras was absolutely a hardship. But Josh Landry just might be worth it.

  “Autre’s a town,” the guy said. “Down by the bayou.”

  Ah, right. Of course. The bayou. As in not here. In New Orleans. Where she was right now.

  Dammit.

  “Okay, thanks,” she told him.

  “You wanna drink?”

  “Um…a Ramos Gin Fizz,” she said. She was suddenly feeling nostalgic about that night last year.

  “You got it.”

  The guy mixed the drink, not looking even half as hot as Josh had doing it, and handed it over. She paid, took a sip, feeling memories of that night crashing over her—the smell of the hurricane Josh had given her first, the flip in her stomach when he’d grinned at her, the sensation that she’d just swallowed a mouthful of hot cocoa when he’d first said her name, the feel of his lips on hers, the warm and tight feeling in her chest when he’d asked her to come back.

  She really wanted to see him. Okay, so he wasn’t here tonight. Maybe she could still find him. She was here for nearly two whole weeks. How far was Autre? And how horrible would it be to show up and have him not remember her?

  She took a sip of the drink and was again accosted by memories from a year ago. The sound of Josh’s laugh, the way he’d drawled I’m way more fun, and dangerous, than a N’Awlins boy, the way he’d looked at her like he couldn’t believe he’d met her…and wasn’t going back to her hotel with her.

  That could have definitely felt like a rejection, but it hadn’t. At all. It had felt like he was doing it because he felt more than just attraction and lust.

  Of course, she spent most of her time with cows, so what did she really know?

  She turned away from the bar, trying to decide if she should try to wait for Andrew outside, or if her chances of finding him were just as good, i.e. horrible, out there as they were in here.

  Tori surveyed the room as she took another drink. And suddenly froze.

  He was here.

  Josh. Josh Landry was here.

  Her throat attempted to swallow her gin fizz at the same time she tried to take a deep breath and she sucked gin, half-and-half, and lemon juice partway down her windpipe. She started hacking and coughing. No one seemed to notice. Except him.

  The guy with the wide shoulders and dark hair, wearing ass-hugging jeans and a black mask with gold trim turned to her. He started for her.

  She was still coughing as her heart started racing. That was him. The mask covered his whole face except for his mouth and the sexy short beard, but everything about him was familiar. She’d definitely seen that mouth before. And he’d obviously recognized her.

  “Tori? Is that you?”

  Over the din of conversation around them, it was hard to hear him, but she knew he’d called her by name. He’d definitely recognized her. Oh my God, he’s here.

  She was wearing a mask too, she suddenly remembered, so she nodded quickly. “It’s me,” she croaked.

  “Are you okay?”

  She wasn’t. She was feeling jittery and so damned happy to see him and more than a little relieved. She felt like she wanted to cry, actually. She also felt like laughing hysterically. Adrenaline. She knew that. On top of the stress of Andrew’s wedding plans and Paisley and being on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras for the past two hours when she was used to wide open spaces, dark and quiet, with no humans for miles. Everything about this night had her off-kilter.

  She had no idea what to say. So instead of saying anything, she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him in, and kissed him.

  It took her about three seconds to realize that this was not Josh Landry.

  Tori started to pull back, but the guy wrapped his arm around her waist, his big hand splayed over her lower back, and brought her up against him. He opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, moving his lips over hers. She gripped his shoulders to keep from tipping over, though with the hold he had on her, that was a low risk.

  It was…weird.

  The kiss wasn’t bad. It was actually an okay kiss. And there was something familiar about it.

  But this was not Josh.

  Yet, this guy had called her Tori. And he seemed fully comfortable being in her personal space. And he hadn’t seemed overly shocked by her kissing him. In fact, he was very much going along with it.

  She felt him groan slightly as he slid his tongue against hers and registered the fact that he was enjoying this. The feeling of familiarity continued as she breathed in, taking his scent in.

  And that was when it hit her.

  Andrew.

  3

  Tori shoved Andrew back.

  He didn’t go far, since he still had a pretty firm hold on her, but she was definitely staring up into the eyes of her best friend. No wonder he’d seemed familiar walking toward her. She should have known him right away. That just went to show how obsessed her mind had been with Josh. She’d wanted to see him and so the first male who seemed familiar automatically became him? Wow, that was crazy.

  “What are you doing?” she asked Andrew.

  “What do you mean?”

  How had she not noticed his cologne immediately? It was as familiar to her as the smell of her farm. She internally winced. Okay, that didn’t sound very flattering. But Andrew’s cologne was as ingrained in her brain as the smell of home. But honestly, they were surrounded by so many people, so many smells, that until she was this close—and not thinking of Josh—she hadn’t noticed.

  “You’re kissing me!” she exclaimed, pushing against his chest.

  He gave her a little smile that was absolutely familiar. If only he’d smiled at her when he’d come up to her a minute ago. She would have known him for sure then.

  Probably.

  “Actually, you kissed me,” he told her, still not letting go of her.

  He smelled like beer. See? Andrew was a beer drinker. She could have been drinking beer with him and his friends tonight. And then she would have known what he was wearing and what mask he had on and none of this would have happened. This was actually Paisley’s fault…

  Tori’s entire body went cold. Paisley. Andrew’s fiancée.

  She pushed him back again. “I thought you—”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  The screech was shrill enough that it stopped conversation for an impressively large circumference around them.

  Andrew let go of Tori then.

  Tori turned to face Paisley. The bubbly blonde bride-to-be was not looking so bubbly right now. In fact, she looked capable of homicide. And her chosen victim was quite obvious. Tori took a step back—right into Andrew.

  His hands went to her hips, to steady her, but she could only imagine how it looked.

  Not good, judging by the narrowing of Paisley’s heavily made-up eyes.

  “Hey, babe,” Andrew greeted, stupidly not letting go of Tori. “Just a mistake. We’re both drunk and—”

  “She’s barely had anything to drink,” Paisley said, planting one hand on her hip and pointing her other index finger—with the very sharp-looking nail—at Tori. “She’s not drunk.”

  “I thought he was someone else,” Tori said quickly, moving away from Andrew.

  She stepped to the side rather than forward, and closer to Paisley, but with the crowd there wasn’t very far to go.

  “See, mistake,” Andrew said.

  Tori nodded. “Total mistake.”
<
br />   “You didn’t know who she was?” Paisley asked Andrew, one perfect eyebrow arched.

  “Well…”

  “Which means you were just kissing some stranger then?” Paisley continued. “How is that better?”

  “No, I knew it was her,” Andrew said.

  Maybe he thought that kissing a stranger would be worse and this was the reassurance Paisley wanted, but, well, it didn’t work that way.

  Paisley burst into tears.

  Oh shit. Tori took a step toward the other woman. “Paisley, I swear I thought he was Josh.”

  Paisley gave her a look that chilled Tori to the bone. She quickly took that step back again. And then another.

  “Who the hell is Josh?” The question didn’t come from Paisley though. It was from Andrew.

  Tori looked up at her friend. “A guy I met last year.”

  “Last year?” Andrew frowned.

  “When I was here. In New Orleans.”

  “He’s from here?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Well, near here. Autre.” She said it as if she’d known that prior to asking the bartender a few minutes ago.

  “You just randomly met him last year and now you’re here thinking about kissing him?”

  “We spent time together last year,” she said. “And—” She shrugged. “Yeah, I really wanted to be kissing him tonight.”

  “What kind of time did you spend with him?” Andrew asked, looking annoyed and worried.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Tori looked at Paisley, who was still crying. She was now surrounded by her bridesmaids—which meant there were eight other women also shooting I-wish-you-were-dead looks at Tori—then back to Andrew. She raised her eyebrows. The look was supposed to indicate that he should probably be comforting Paisley. But he was still frowning at Tori.

  “Just…time,” she said, exasperated. “Talking. Laughing. Getting to know each other. And he was supposed to meet me here tonight.”

  “You never said anything about meeting a guy here last year,” Andrew said.

  No, she hadn’t told her best friend about Josh. Because…there hadn’t been much to tell.