When the black Lincoln pulled up in front of the hotel at three minutes to ten, Imogen was ready, and she loved his punctuality. She hadn’t known what to wear, so she’d let Jury pick a green-and-white checked gingham sundress and nude flats. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and kept her makeup nearly nonexistent.
When the valet opened his door, Imogen watched Nic climb out. Today, he wore cutoff camouflage shorts, a plain white T-shirt, low-top shoes, and a baseball cap. His vibrant tattoos were on full display with his arms bare and lower legs exposed. No watch, no rings, no chains. Nothing fancy. And yet he still drew every eye in the area.
“Hey, girl,” he said with a smile. “You look beautiful and adorable. Perfect.”
Imogen couldn’t remember blushing basically ever, but she felt her cheeks heat with his words.
“And you are tattooed from head to toe, aren’t you?”
He tilted his head back and forth. “Not every inch, but a lot of ’em. You ready?”
She nodded, and even though he wasn’t wearing a suit, he still held out his arm.
“It’s refreshing to know that some people still have manners.”
“As my grandmother often said, ‘Manners never go out of style. They may seem old-fashioned, but they always impress the right lady.’”
“She sounds like a wise woman.”
He led her around the car and opened the door for her. “She was. One of a kind. She’s been gone a while now, but she left her mark, especially on me.”
“Did she see all these tattoos? What did she think?”
“Colorful. She called me colorful.”
“It fits.”
He shut the door with her inside, and she waited a few moments for him to join her.
“She could’ve said much worse. She actually handled it better than my mother. After my cotillion days, Mom was hoping I’d become someone important, but all I ever wanted to do was art.”
“Are your parents …” She almost didn’t want to ask.
“Both gone. I’m all that’s left of the St. Clair clan these days.”
“Our family name is going to pass away as well. I think my parents hoped one of us would marry some guy and he might take our name and we’d have a boatload of babies to carry on this Kilgore branch, but that will be left to our cousins to handle.”
He looked at her sideways as they cruised down Carondelet. “Your parents wanted you to marry a guy who would takeyour name? Uh, no.”
She laughed. “Like I said, I knew that wasn’t happening.”
“Fuck no. Any man who would do that would not be the man for you.”
Could you be though?Imogen wondered.
She’d known him approximately five minutes, but she liked everything she knew about Nic so far. She’d basically given uphope on ever meeting someone, and then, when she’d least expected it,there he was.
They paused at the light at Canal, and she could see theVoodoo Inksign down the street.
“We’ll make a quick stop for beignets and then head to my place.” He met her gaze. “Which you’ve already been to.”
“It looked stunning.”
“Just wait until you see the inside. It’s pretty cool, I have to say.”
“Did you grow up there?”
“Yeah. My folks and I lived with my grandparents. When I turned sixteen, they gave me the separate apartment at the back of the courtyard until I left for art school.”