In Moonlight and Memories [Volume 1] by Julie Ann Walker

Author:Julie Ann Walker [Walker, Julie Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Ann Walker
Published: 2019-04-24T04:00:00+00:00

Luc: Working tonight?

Me: Here until closing.

Luc: There room at the bar for 2 more?

My heart starts pounding.

Me: I’ll make room.

Luc: Be there in 10 mins.

When I click off the phone, Earl leans over to Jean-Pierre, who’s doing me a huge favor by filling in for the band that was supposed to play tonight. They ended up canceling at the last minute. Something about bad shrimp and not enough toilets in all of Louisiana to contain what they’re producing.

“See that there smile?” Earl points the neck of his beer at me. “She’s taken to wearing it when one of these ghosts from her past comes up in conversation.”

I try to wipe the grin from my face but can’t quite manage it.

“Me? I recognize it well,” Jean-Pierre says. “She’s been alternately grinnin’ like a gopher in soft dirt and lookin’ sad enough to bring a tear to a glass eye ever since dem boys came back to town.”

“It’s enough to make you wonder, ain’t it?” Earl muses.

“Wonder what?” Jean-Pierre asks.

“Which one of ’em she’s getting busy with.” Earl takes a swig of his beer and eyes me consideringly. “My money’s on both.”

“Oh hush.” Heat flies to my cheeks. “I’m not getting busy with either of them. And who still uses the phrase getting busy anyway?”

“Well, if you ain’t riding either of their baloney ponies, then what’s so great about them?” Earl demands.

“There are more important things in life than sex, Earl. Didn’t your mother teach you that?”

“Bah.” He waves a hand. “Folks who claim there are more important things than sex are the ones who ain’t getting any.”

Jean-Pierre clinks the neck of his beer against Earl’s. “Ain’t dat da truth?”

“You’re taking his side?” I scowl at Jean-Pierre. “Traitor!”

“Me, I just calls dem like I sees dem.”

“Well, the next time you call them like you see them,” I warn, “I’ll stop helping you with your Christmas shopping.” Every year, I drag Jean-Pierre to the shops on Royal Street to pick out gifts for his family. I was always under the impression that gay men were supposed to be good at shopping, but Jean-Pierre is completely and utterly useless.

“No, ya won’t.” He grins. “Hearin’ how much my mawmaw and pawpaw love dem gifts puts too big a smile on your face.”

Dang it. He has me there. I do enjoy seeing the pictures of his grandparents happily brandishing the presents I help him select. And since I can’t argue, I employ the only weapon left at my disposal—I deepen my scowl.

“So,” Earl says, “back to your sex life.”

“Hopeless.” I shake my head. “The both of you.”

Moving down the bar, I fill drink orders and keep my eye on the couple at the end who are signing their receipt. As soon as they get up, I pull out the A-frame Reserved placard. I only ever use it to save Earl’s spot, so it feels weird putting it on the other end of the bar.

When two guys try to sit down, I wave them off and point to the sign.

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