A short time later, Luc was lolling in the hammock, one arm propped behind his head, the other dangling a long-necked beer over the side from loose fingers, while Sylvie acted the dedicated scientist. He was about to fulfill an agreement he and Sylvie had just negotiated. The gist of it was that she was going to “interview” him about his sexuality. Be still, my heart, and other body parts. He didn’t know about Sylvie, but personally, he was planning on having a great time with this interview.
Sylvie sat on a wide tree stump several feet away. Her long legs were extended forward and crossed at the ankles while she took notes with so much seriousness you’d think the future of mankind was at stake… instead of the libidos of mankind. If she knew how good her bare legs and feet… even her cute toes… looked to him, she would run for the hills.
I wonder how she’d look with pink toenails. Better yet, I wonder how she’d react if I suggested painting her toenails for her. Not that I’ve ever painted anyone’s toenails before, but I remember someone doing that to Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham. Was it Kevin Costner? Or that whiz-kid pitcher? Whoever! It sure as hell worked for me. Maybe I could… yikes, maybe I’d better focus on the subject at hand.
“Tell me again about our contract,” he encouraged her, wanting to get his mind off her toes. Who would have guessed his erotic fantasies ran to feet?
“Well, it’s not exactly a contract.”
Uh-oh. “Hey, I’m a lawyer, remember? An oral agreement is most definitely a contract.”
“Oh, all right, a contract, then,” she said with exasperation.
He’d been needling her with questions about their agreement for the past fifteen minutes while his brain tried to register the fact that Ms. Cool-as-a-Cucumber Sylvie Fontaine wanted to ask him questions about sex. Sex, for God’s sake!
He couldn’t recall any woman asking him such questions in the past unless she was drunk, or unless he was buried ten inches inside of her… well, okay, maybe not quite ten inches. How about nine? Yep, if he was going to fantasize, nine was a perfectly good number.
He grinned to himself, especially as the word “delusional” came to mind, and Sylvie glared at him, not understanding why he was grinning.
Should I tell her?
Nah.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.
“Like what?” He batted his eyelashes innocently. “Oh, you mean like with pleasure… ’cause you were dreaming about me?”
“I… was… not… dreaming… about… you,” she informed him through gritted teeth.
“Uh-hum,” he conceded with a wink.
“Back to our ‘contract.’ I’ll help you with your water pollution tests, even to the extent of appearing in court, if necessary. And in return, you’ll cooperate with the JBX experiment.”
“I’m not taking any more jelly beans.” Another dose of that love potion and he might just reach that magic number nine. Either that, or explode.
“I know that. I meant cooperate, as in answering questions and giving me data related to the effects of the formula you’ve already taken.”
“And you’re going to take the pirogue with me tomorrow down to Bayou Noir, where we’ll spend the day gathering new samples.”
“I already said I would… though I don’t see why we can’t wait till we get back to Houma. Everything doesn’t have to be so clandestine.”
He frowned at her.
“I gave you my word, Luc. Do you want it in writing?”
“Weeelll…” He drew the word out, making sure she knew he didn’t trust her totally… any more than she trusted him totally.
“Why is the shrimpers’ plight so important to you, Luc? Is it just because your brother is involved?”
He shook his head, suddenly serious. “Water pollution should be important to everyone, not just the shrimpers. The threat of sickness, even cancer, is real. But as to my involvement”—he shrugged—”fishing defines the Gulf, Sylv, you know that, especially shrimp fishing. More than that, it’s a Cajun way of life. Take that away, and you take away our heritage.”
She stared at him steadily, and he could imagine that her brain was working overtime. Lucien LeDeux. The Swamp Solicitor. Takes on every unwinnable case in creation. “You sound as if shrimp fishing is being dealt a death blow,” she said.