To Kiss A Frog Page 6

  Mo tapped the paper in his hand. “Dat's all we could come up with. You could go to another parish, but dat'll take time. Tune you don't have.”

  Overwhelmed by his lack of a viable solution, Craig hopped away from Larry and Mo.

  “We feel for you, man.” Larry said behind him. “Can't begin to know what you're goin' through. Never been a frog before.”

  “Yeah,” Mo agreed.

  Craig could tell him. It stunk! Almost stepped on, chewed on by a dog, less than two inches high, no way to communicate... For a man with a law degree, his future didn't look so bright.

  “Mo!” Uncle Joe's voice carried through the screen door at the back of the bait shop. Mo jerked his head toward the door. “Does your uncle know 'bout da voodoo curse?”

  Craig nodded.

  With a grin, Mo yelled, “Yo, Uncle Joe, I be out here with your amphibian relative.” Mo pushed himself off the steps and turned toward the door.

  “Your grandmother just called. T-Rex is loose again, and your grandmother can't find Fifi. You better hightail it home or she'll make handbags and luggage out of that 'gator.”

  “C'mon, Larry. Craig'll figure dis mess out. He's da one with all da diplomas. Need you to distract Rex while I sneak up from behind.”

  “Why am I always the distraction,” Larry groused. “That's just a fancy way of sayin' I be de bait for dat darn fool 'gator.”

  “Yep, but he likes the way you taste better'n me. We better hurry More he makes a snack out of Grandma's poodle.”

  Craig tried to laugh at the hulk of a human worrying about his grandmother's toy poodle, but all he could do was croak.

  “Yeah, Craig, we know.” Mo smiled happily. “You don't have to thank us for all our suggestions. Just get to work on followin' through.”

  “I'll tell my sister you'll be calm'. Dat'll have da entire house in an uproar. Give dem somethin' to do besides gripe about Josie's beauty supplies all over the bathroom.”

  “C'mon, Larry” Mo said. “Good luck, Craig.”

  “Yeah, and watch out for snakes and 'gators.” Larry waved a hand. “You ain't much of anythin' right now.”

  Larry and Mo hurried off in the direction of Mo's house where he lived with his gray-haired grandmother.

  Craig shook his head.

  Thirty-three-year-old Mo still lived with his mother's mother. The old woman was a hoot. She'd shared her moonshine with them when they were hormonal teenagers full of themselves and bent on trouble. Mo thought the world of his grandmother and woe be upon the person who upset her.

  But Larry's departing words sank deep. He wasn't much of anything. The simple phrase struck too close to home. How true it was. Not only in size, but also in direction.

  When was the last time he'd done something he could feel proud of? Mo took care of his grandmother. Larry, for all his complaints about his eight sisters, loved each and every one of them. He wouldn't have offered to fix Craig up with Josie if he didn't think highly of Craig.

  Larry's suggestion was a gesture of trust and faith in Craig to do the right thing. Only problem was, Craig wasn't looking for the long-term commitment that usually accompanied love. He wanted to find some love 'em and leave 'em woman to fall for him. He didn't want to do wrong by Larry's sister.

  “Craig, I gotta service a few engines out on the dock. You're welcome to come with me.” Uncle Joe paused on the steps. “Nah, you'd better slick dose to home. No telling what could eat you by the water. Don't worry, it's not much longer 'til the sun sets.”

  Thank God. Although somehow the anticipated transformation didn't hold much appeal. Whether man or amphibian his situation seemed pretty hopeless.

  Craig found a quiet spot beneath the step to wait and contemplate his choices. For the most part, he forced down the natural instincts to snatch the flies off boards, but a fat, juicy cricket managed to find its way past the shadows that hid Craig. The unsuspecting insect was toast with jam to his pallet, and why not? People ate cockroaches in some countries.

  As soon as he turned back into a man, he'd make some calls, set up a couple of dates, test the waters of Bayou Miste. Like Mo said, he didn't have much time and he couldn't afford to be picky.

  Perhaps he should ask Cassandra to come down from New Orleans. He could tell her it was some kind of emergency or other. She'd do it.

  And with the pickings so slim in this part of the country, that choice looked more and more like the winner. But even if Cassandra said she loved him, would it be true? Craig didn't think Cassandra loved anyone but Cassandra. And could he afford to waste time on her?

  Unfortunately, he couldn't afford not to. If he wanted his old life back, he'd better hope he'd misread the situation and she really did love him.

  As the last wisps of sun sank over the horizon, washing the lush green swamps into gray, Craig hopped onto the steps. No sooner was he settled on the planks than the metamorphosis began. His skin pulled and stretched, the bones and muscles extending, flexing and growing. His body unfolded, straightening, pushing upward. Craig closed his eyes against the pain shooting through his nerve endings. Just when he though he would explode out of his skin, the pressure subsided.

  He opened his eyes and his vision cleared. He towered above the steps he'd had difficulty climbing just moments earlier.

  Steps? Craig glanced down at his naked body parts and darted a quick glance toward the houses neighboring the bait shop. Ms. Reneau stepped out onto her porch. As she turned toward the bait shop, Craig ducked in the side door.

  “Whew! That was close.” He'd have to plan his morphing location better next time. Apparently, there'd be a few more next times. But not many, if he could help it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ************************************************************************************************

  Elaine made her way to the dock with a large plastic bucket banging against her knees, a satchel containing her journal slung over her shoulder, and a large yellow flashlight clutched in one hand. She'd chosen to walk the short distance from the rental house to the pier thinking she'd stretch the kinks out of her legs. But if she were honest with herself, she'd admit she was procrastinating. The thought of spending a dark night in a boat on the water with a sexy man paralyzed her.

  She didn't know which made her more uneasy - the man or the water. Either way, she'd plunged in way over her head. She had research to do and the source of the pollutants to discover. Wasn't that enough to worry about? Not to mention an irrational and debilitating fear of H2O

  The thought of being surrounded by water made her stomach churn. Whatever happened, she couldn't lose her cool to a panic attack. This water was no different from what ran from her tap at home. And she would be safe in the boat, out of the wet stuff.

  In the absence of streetlights the roadside blurred in the endless shadows of dusk. Elaine gladly wore her shiny new mud boots. If anything lurked in the gloom, the calf-high rubber protected her ankles. Unfortunately, the large boots didn't quite fit and she clumped her way toward the marina feeling about as graceful as a lumbering elephant.

  Arms aching, Elaine hurried the last few steps to the bait shop, plunked her bucket on the porch planks and almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost. Craig waited inside. Her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. Perhaps if she repeated her mantra, she'd keep her wits about her and remain on track. “I am a scientist. I love science. I am a scientist. I love science.”

  She felt better already, even allowing a smile to curve her lips as she pulled open the screen door.

  Like the night before, the bait shop stood in near darkness, the lights not yet turned on. Elaine's heart jumped into hyper-drive. The last time she'd come in here, she'd met Craig in the flesh, and not much else.

  “I am a scientist. I love science.”

  The back door thumped and Elaine heard the soft shooshing of what sounded like bare feet on hardwood floors.

  Bare feet. Ummmmm...

  She pressed a hand to her chest and walked
down a shadowy aisle. From the meager light filtering through the occasional window, she could make out a display of strings, hooks and lead weights.

  “I am a scientist. I love science.”

  A tall shadow emerged in the doorway behind the counter.

  “Mr. Thibodeaux? Oh, there you are -”

  The rising moon chose that moment to tip over the top of the trees and shine in a window, illuminating him in a bright moonglow. All of him.

  Elaine gasped and her mind shut down all other information-processing functions. A second after intellectual faculties ceased, every nerve ending in her body exploded in all directions. Her senses leapt into overload and her brain struggled to handle the volume of signals screaming along neural pathways.

  Craig grabbed for the closest thing to him - a fishnet.

  All his perfectly placed body parts were on display. Broad shoulders narrowed to a tight abdomen and a thin line of black curly hair lead to his...

  “Oh, my!” Elaine froze, staring at the net and all it didn't covet

  Craig dropped the net and snatched a plastic bag of fake worms from the shelf beside hint and covered his... package.

  The trouble was, Elaine kept staring. Her mouth worked but the only words she could think of were, “I am a scientist. I love sex.”

  “What?” Craig asked, a harried smile tilting his lips.

  “What? What?” She resisted the urge to smack her forehead with her palm. Stupider and stupider. Who'd have thought she'd attained a double major in chemistry and biology, a master's and a doctorate and graduated top of every class?

  Craig pushed the hair back from his forehead with his free hand and leaned against a counter, crossing his bare ankles. His pose reeked of confidence, as if waiting on a customer naked constituted appropriate behavior - at least in Bayou Miste society. “Can I help you?” Craig asked in a voice completely at odds with his current state of undress.

  “Oh yeeessss.” Elaine's response was a breathy whisper. When Craig shifted the fake worms to cover more skin, her gaze broke contact with his body and shot up to his eyes. Heat rushed into her face. The hotter her face grew, the faster her breathing became. She had to get a grip or she was going to hyperventilate.

  Oh, how much easier to sink to the floor in blessed oblivion. But she didn't faint, much to her chagrin. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the potent smells of earthworms and fish. With her concentration shifted to the unattractive aromas, Elaine managed to rein in her galloping hormones.

  Another deep breath and she opened her eyes, pressed her lips together and forced an eyebrow upward. “Do you provide such service to all your customers, or just me? This is getting to be a habit, Mr. Thibodeaux.”

  “Are you embarrassed by nudity? I thought all scientists approached the human body in a clinical manner.”

  “Yes, of course.” She didn't look at hint. She stared at everything but him - shadows in the corners, light fixtures on the ceilings, packages of fake worms. Oh geez.

  Her gaze returned to his face.

  Craig's lips turned upward on one side and an eyebrow cocked as if daring her to say anything about his lack of clothing.

  “Do you want me to wait outside? I don't mind in the least. In fact, I'll do just that.” She backed down the aisle, but her bucket bumped against a shell behind her, clipping the backs of her knees. Her legs buckled and she toppled to the floor in a heap of bucket, nets and notebooks.

  Craig leapt forward, tossing the worms to the side, and reached out to grab her hand. “Are you all right?” He hauled her to her feet so fast she pitched forward and crashed against his chest.

  Her fingers laced through his curly chest hairs and her breath caught in her throat. “I'm fine,” she said, her voice a husky whisper. Then she noted something hard and stiff pressing into her belly. And it wasn't a package of fake worms!

  What would it feel like to reach down and touch -

  Elaine looked up into his face. Eyes as blue as a summer sky were hooded in shadow, but his lips curled up on the corners.

  Embarrassment kept her close. If she backed away, he'd be on display. But if she stayed where she was, no telling what her crazed senses would do. Her analytical mind escaped her when she most needed it. She should be reviewing alternatives and examining all angles before coming to the most logical solution to her rising problem.

  And rising it was.

  A loud click split the air, and the fluorescent lights above hummed to life.

  “Craig? You in here?” Joe Thibodeaux's voice called out.

  Elaine's eyes widened at the sound. What would Joe think if he saw her in such a compromising embrace with his unclothed nephew?

  Her face burned and she shoved against Craig's chest, ducking behind a cardboard display of sunglasses. “I'll just wait outside,” she whispered. And with one last took at the gorgeous hunk of naked male standing before her, she ran for her life.

  Once outside the bait shop, Elaine collapsed onto a weathered bench, pressing her hands to her fiery cheeks. She closed her eyes, but Craig's image burned in her memory. The muscled planes of his chest and shoulders, the narrow hips, fight abdomen and... and... that! All bathed in bluish purple moonlight and nothing else. How could she face the man when her body responded to him even when he wasn't standing beside her?

  She really had to get a hold of her hormones. Elaine opened her eyes and looked around, realizing all her gear lay scattered across the floor inside the bait shop. With any luck, Craig would bring it out. She couldn't go back in there. No way, no how. Not the way her heart raced too fast to be healthy.

  Two very short minutes later, Craig banged through the screen door. Blessedly dressed in jeans, a denim shirt and deck shoes, he carried all her equipment.

  Elaine couldn't look at him without heat suffusing her cheeks. Thank goodness for the darkness of night and dim porch lights. She stood and held out her hands, looking at her stuff instead of his face. “I'll take those.”

  “No need.”

  “No, I insist. It's my gear, and I can carry it.” Elaine couldn't decide whether to smack her palm over her mouth or to her forehead. Why couldn't she just shut up and let the man carry her things?

  “Suit yourself.” Craig set the bucket, satchel and bright yellow flashlight on the porch boards.

  While Craig bent to accomplish the task, Elaine couldn't help but notice how his hair glowed blue-black, reflecting the light above his head. She really had to resist reaching out to touch the ebony waves.

  He straightened and his gaze met hers. Briefly.

  Her heart leapt to her throat and she dove down to gather her things. With her bucket looped over her arm, satchel over her shoulder and everything else gripped loosely in her hands, she followed him down the steps to the dock.

  An unavoidable challenge.

  Just as sexy clothed as naked, Craig's narrow butt twitched from side to side and his broad shoulders blocked Elaine's view of the water. Or was it that she only allowed herself to see him? In truth, if she'd looked up, she'd stare over the top of his head straight out into the swamp. But then, she couldn't decide what to fear most, this man or the water.

  Or maybe herself.

  She sighed, her thoughts an incoherent tangle of emotion and fear.

  Craig turned left and Elaine got her first up-close and personal view of the inky black water not four feet away from her. She stood rooted to the planks, mesmerized by the swirling shadows created by lights reflecting off the smooth surface. Her already speeding heart threatened to jump out of her chest. Suddenly, Craig was a lifeline and she went after it.

  Stomach in her throat, she ripped her gaze from the dark depths and locked in on the man she found completely distracting. Already, the distance between them seemed insurmountable. Much farther and she'd be paralyzed, incapable of following him.

  Well then, get your buns in gear and catch up! Elaine forced her feet to move, stumbling toward the man, keeping her eyes on her goal. Looking ahea
d instead of down, she charged forward. Then her clunky boot caught on something protruding from the boards and she pitched forward.

  With her arms too full to provide balance, she knew she was doomed. Not again! She tossed the bucket off her arm, chucked the flashlight, and threw her arms in front of her to brace for landing, praying she wouldn't fall into the water.

  “Oomph!” Her palms connected with rough boards moments before her chest and head, absorbing only a little of the shock. Elaine squeezed her eyes shut and felt to either side for the reassuringly solid planks of the dock. When she was sure she wasn't dangling over the edge, she opened her eyes and lifted her head.

  Her hair escaped its neat ponytail and swung into her face, blocking her view. When she pushed it aside and looked up, a pair of deck shoes stood inches from her nose. She let her hair fall back over her face, wishing it would hide her complete embarrassment.

  Craig Thibodeaux squatted beside her and lifted the strands to peer under, concern written in his frown. “Are you okay?”

  Elaine grimaced. “I think the only thing damaged is my pride.”

  Craig's smile seeped into her bones, warming her to her toes, tempering some of her humiliation. “Don't worry. I've tripped on that same board at least a hundred times. Don't know why Uncle Joe hasn't done something about it.” He straightened and extended his hand.

  Elaine reluctantly accepted the hand. Fear of the water outweighed her fear of her reaction to his touch.

  With one strong tug, Craig brought Elaine to her feet and flush against his hard chest. His arms clamped around her, crushing her hips to his groin.

  Elaine breathed in the soapy, musky scent of male, her heart skittering into her belly. Everywhere she touched him, electric shocks ran through her nervous system, traveling through her body to pool with pulsing intensity between her thighs.

  “Oh my,” she whispered. Pushing the hair from her eyes, she dared to sneak a peek at his face.

  Craig's arms were steel bands around her back, but his expression held a hint of laughter. “Are you going to make it from here to the boat, or do you want me to carry you?”