Shelby, ever the sheriff’s deputy even when off duty, rose. “I’ll follow you home.”
Amelie shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself home. You all stay and enjoy.”
“Perhaps Maurice can escort you home.” Camille cocked an eyebrow and smiled in Maurice’s direction.
“I’d be happy to,” Maurice said.
Already shaking her head, Amelie touched his arm. “Really, I don’t need an escort.” She nodded toward the table full of Brotherhood Protectors. “I’m sure you’d rather stay and visit with your friends.”
Maurice shook his head. “I’m ready to call it a night.” He raised a hand toward his friends. “The way they look, they’re in it for the long haul. Besides, I see them all the time.” He smiled at Amelie. “So, it’s settled. I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there safely.”
Not wanting to make a scene or appear ungrateful, Amelie nodded. “Okay, then. I’m ready when you are.”
As her friends waved goodbye, Amelie left the Crawdad Hole Bar and Grill with Maurice.
In the parking lot, she approached the little car she’d purchased second-hand when she’d returned from France. It wasn’t fancy and didn’t have all the bells and whistles, but it got her around.
After Amelie unlocked the door, Maurice reached around her to open it for her.
“Thanks,” she said and slipped into the driver’s seat.
“I’ll be behind you in my truck.” Maurice closed the door.
Amelie watched as he walked away. He had really broad shoulders and narrow hips—and he could dance. A triple threat, in her books. Though she envied her friends’ love lives, she didn’t envy them enough to do anything about her own. She’d been too busy building her business in Bayou Mambaloa to care about dating.
Still...
It had been nice to lean into him when her memories and grief had weighed heavily in her heart. He’d made her feel less alone.
Maybe she’d be ready to spend time in the company of a man soon. A man who recognized a troubled soul on the edge of a dance floor, going through the moves when her heart wasn’t in it. A man like Maurice.
Amelie squared her shoulders and started the car.
The engine ground lethargically and died.
She tried to start it again, but with the same result.
On her third attempt, the engine didn’t even rumble. The car was dead.
She glanced through the windshield to find Maurice headed back toward her and her vehicle.
Her cheeks heated. It appeared she’d get to spend more time with him sooner rather than later. Had her wishful thinking manifested the stranded vehicle?
As he neared, she pushed her door open. “Won’t start.”
“Pop the hood,” he said, and walked around to the front of the vehicle.
Amelie pulled the lever that unlocked the latch.
Maurice lifted the hood and disappeared beneath it.
“Try again,” he called out.
She did.
And...
Nothing.
