Holly lifted her chin toward the pretty, older woman of the group, seated at the opposite end of the table.
Joyce wore a shiny tiara the women had insisted she wear to announce to all in the bar that it was her birthday. As a high school principal, a role that required her to be a pillar of the community, she seemed shy and a little embarrassed at all the attention.
Though she hadn’t wanted to get Gisele’s hopes up, Holly secretly hoped to join the ladies’ fun night before long.
The band struck up a lively polka, and couples moved to the floor.
Holly hurried over to the guys Ouida Mae had offered to send home. Gisele had identified the group as the security organization that had set up shop at the old boat factory. What had she called them? Bayou Brotherhood Protectors? Among them was Gisele’s husband, Rafael, and Ouida Mae’s man, Valentin. She’d met most of them when she’d crashed Camille and Landry’s wedding at the courthouse, in her desperate hunt for Gisele.
Holly gathered empty mugs and took orders from the men. As she worked her way around the table, Remy Montagne, their leader, caught her eye and motioned for her to come closer.
He gave her his order for a beer and then asked, “Have you had any more messages since coming home to Bayou Mambaloa?”
Her cheeks heated as his words drew the attention of all the men at the table. She shook her head. “No.”
“I still think it wouldn’t hurt to have one of my men shadow you until you find out who’s targeting you.” He tipped his chin toward the man on his right. “I have Simon on standby. Just say the word, and he’s yours.”
Her gaze shifted to the man Remy offered, and the heat intensified in her cheeks. The man was all smoldering good looks with his dark hair, ice-blue eyes and impossibly broad shoulders. All hers?
Butterflies fluttered low in her belly.
She had enough problems. Having a hot guy follow her around would only add to them. She was home in the bayou to put curses to rest, not to stir up brand-new ones.
“Thank you, but I’m okay for now.”
“You have my number,” Remy said. “If you feel at all threatened here in Bayou Mambaloa, call.”
“I will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get your drinks.” One last look at the man who could be all hers had her scurrying away to the safety of the bar, where she emptied the tray and waited for Rene to fill the orders for more drinks.
A beefy arm slipped around her waist. “Holly Gautier,” a man’s voice said too close to her ear, “when did you get back in town?”
Holly sighed and pushed the arm away from her body. “Hey, Cody. Watch the hands. Are you seated at the bar?”
He nodded and slipped his arm around her again. “I am. How about taking a spin on the dance floor with me? You know, for old times’ sake.”
“Hands off, Cody.” She shoved his arm away for the second time. “I’m working.”
“Rene will let you have just one dance. Won’t you, Rene?” Cody said to the bar owner.
Holly gave her boss an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
Rene frowned. “She’s working, and we’re shorthanded. If you want a dance partner, find someone who isn’t one of my staff.”
Cody snorted. “I’m disappointed, Rene. I thought we were friends.”
Rene grabbed a mug and placed it beneath the tap. “I don’t know where you got that idea. Now, can I get you a drink? If not, I have plenty of other orders to fill.” He pulled the lever, filled the mug and set it on Holly’s tray. “That completes your order,” he said. “A customer’s waving for your attention. Best be gettin’.”
Holly gave Rene a grateful smile, hefted the heavy tray and turned.
Cody’s arm came out again, catching her across the belly, bringing her to a complete halt so fast she pitched forward. The drinks on her tray rocked precariously.
For a moment, she thought they’d settle. She was wrong. One mug tipped, knocking into the next. The domino effect sent the lot crashing to the floor, splashing beer and broken glasses in a six-foot radius.
“Goddamn, woman!” Cody jumped back. “You got beer all over my new boots.” He stamped his feet, trying to shake off the liquid. When that didn’t help, he held out his hand to Rene. “Give me a rag. Quick. Before it sets in.”
Rene wadded up the damp rag he’d been using to wipe the bar and pitched it hard at Cody’s face.
He didn’t get his hands up in time to deflect it, and it slapped hard across his forehead.
