He shot Rosalyn a wink as she stood. “I’ll go ahead and apologize to you now for ruining your reputation.”
“Ha. Cute.” He wouldn’t have to try hard. She’d done that for herself already.
Cade pointed out the front window. “Now what do you say we get in my car without crying buckets this time?”
“There was crying?” Elisa gaped up at them from the bench seat. “You guys are killing me.”
Rosalyn called over her shoulder. “I’ll tell you my point of view if you find a way to make a high-protein, low-calorie bread pudding.”
Elisa abruptly stood and knotted her apron. “Deal.”
Rosalyn looked up at Cade to find him already smiling down at her—that same smirk he’d shot her when he knew he was about to win the mathletes competition junior year.
Uh-oh.
ten
Afternoon sun dotted the sidewalk in front of Rosalyn, streaming through the tree branches bordering the crowded streets of the French Quarter. Clearly, the rain hadn’t reached New Orleans—she should’ve grabbed her sunglasses like the ones Cade had tucked into the neck of his shirt. At least her clothes had finally dried.
Cade crumpled wax paper in his hand as they ambled through the French Quarter. “I can’t believe you turned down homemade fudge.”
“I can’t believe you ate three pieces of homemade fudge.” Should she tell Cade about the chocolate still dotting the corner of his mouth?
Cade shoved the paper back into the pastry bag. “I could have gone for four, but didn’t want to seem greedy.” On the corner up ahead in Jackson Square, a man fully painted as a bronze statue posed, unmoving, as tourists tossed bills into the coffee can near his feet. The faint sounds of a saxophone drifted on the wind.
Rosalyn drew a deep breath, convinced the scent of chocolate lingered in her nose. “You said this was supposed to be sampling of the chocolate fountain for Magnolia Days, not second lunch.” The specialty chocolate shop smelled divine, like the Garden of Eden had saved a little something back. But breaking her strict performance diet after several weeks of limited training would’ve been the worst timing. Resisting had been delightful torture.
Sort of like the entire hour-long car ride to New Orleans with Cade, where he’d played early 2000 hits and they swapped more stories from high school.
“You don’t know what our next stop is.” Cade offered an exaggerated grimace as he tossed the bag into a nearby trash receptacle. “Just remember I tried to give you chocolate first and you refused.”
She held back a grin as they neared the towering St. Louis Cathedral. Children shrieked as they chased each other around the splashing fountain in Jackson Square. The strains of jazz music grew louder, and the scent of cinnamon pecans wafted from a street vendor. “I’m not afraid.”
And she wasn’t—of Cade’s next errand or anything else at the moment. Funny that she felt safer here, despite the city boasting a significantly higher amount of crime than Magnolia Bay. For the first time in weeks, she could walk freely without wondering if she was being watched from parked cars or corners of buildings. A carefree needle in a haystack.
Cade tossed a coin into the fountain as they passed it. “Maybe you should be a little nervous. I know I am.”
“Me, nervous?” Well, maybe her high-alert status never fully went away. But it was definitely lowered—not that that was what Cade meant. “You obviously forgot what I do for a living. Silks, ten feet in the air?” Rosalyn teasingly knocked her hip into Cade’s to punctuate her point. He stumbled a step.
“Careful. You almost made me take out that tarot card stand.” He leaned closer to her ear in an exaggerated whisper. “And then how will we know the future?”
She chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at the red umbrella offering shade for a folding table littered with cards. “I already knew my immediate future post-circus.” She sobered slightly. Barring a miracle, anyway.
And since she hadn’t even prayed for one, it seemed that much more unlikely to happen.
“Hang on.” Cade led her off the busy pavement, around a family in matching We Heart NOLA T-shirts, toward the cathedral entry. The giant church rose above them, three imposing spires stretching toward the cloud-dotted, cerulean sky. A sign stating Closed for Nuptials stood beside the sturdy wooden door. “That didn’t sound good. What’s up, Ace?”
She shouldn’t have said anything. Secrets were getting harder to keep from Cade.
She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I just have some commitments I’ve got to fulfill after the circus.”
“Commitments I take it you’d rathernotfulfill?” Cade crossed his arms over his chest, studying her.
“Something like that.” More like she’d prefer to get a root canal than keep working on this debt that had turned her from a free-flying aerialist to a bird in a cage.
“At least you get to see cool places, right?”
“Right.” Desert sand and white hospital sheets filled her mind. She blinked them away. Cade didn’t understand, and she couldn’t make him.
