Forever, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  “Just a discussion. He had a few questions for me.” Ben shot them his best grin and turned back toward his office. Hopefully, that would quell speculation for the moment.

  “What was that about? I don’t want to overstep, but, sir, you have to tell me if I’m going to be out of a job.” Chase came in after the others.

  “Don’t worry, Chase. I trust that you’ll keep this between us for now.” Chase nodded. Ben explained about the task force, knowing his secret was safe with Chase.

  His firm had four partners; he was the youngest of the four. Two were old enough to be his father and one was just five years older than him. They employed two associates who, if they played their cards right, would make partner within the next two years at the rate the firm was growing. Each partner had an administrative assistant. They had a couple clerks and an intern. Babin, Bach, Smith & Laroux was a medium-sized firm on the move.

  Right now, he needed to get a move on so he wouldn’t be late for his date with Sabine.

  He’d set up something special and hoped she would like it.

  Chapter Five

  Sabine didn’t mention her brother’s phone call earlier this morning. There wasn’t any need to upset her mother just yet. When the time came to make the trip to the detention facility, Sabine would fill her mom in. Of course, she couldn’t leave her mom here alone, or she wouldn’t subject her to traveling back to Louisiana, and all that entailed.

  But here, she had no backup. What if Mom needed something? What if she had a panic attack like she used to? No. Sabine couldn’t risk it.

  Sabine attempted to put all thoughts about the males in her family aside as she readied herself for this evening.

  “You look amazing,” her mother said.

  “Thanks, Mom, but this isn’t really a date.”

  “What would you call dinner with a handsome young man who is picking you up from your house and taking you out?”

  “I’m not sure what to call it, but I know I’m not comfortable dating Ben,” Sabine said, realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

  “Then why are going out with him?” Her mother was an intuitive woman, even though she’d been quite obtuse for many years within her own marriage.

  “Because he didn’t really give me much choice.”

  “You’re going so you don’t hurt his feelings?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.” And she wasn’t.

  “Well, if you figure it out, it might be fair to let him know.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Sabine conceded as she heard the crunching of tires on the gravel of the drive. “He’s here. Don’t forget to lock up and set the alarm.” Sabine had installed a state-of-the-art security system with cameras, monitoring, the works—the kind she could check from her smart phone at any given time.

  “Got it. I’m fine. And I’ve got my Smith and Wesson should anyone breach Fort Knox,” said her former high society mother who was a crack shot with the small .32 caliber revolver she kept handy, especially while Sabine was out of the house.

  “Just don’t shoot anybody that doesn’t need shooting.”

  Her mother chuckled. “Don’t you want to let the boy come inside to fetch you? You’ll seem eager if you meet him on the front step.”

  “It’s okay. He knows I’m not too eager,” Sabine laughed as she shut the door behind her.

  She stepped out onto the small front porch to see Ben approaching with a bouquet of daisies. “Are those for me?”

  “Yup. Do you want to go inside and put them in water?”

  “Sure.” She smiled at his decidedly old-fashioned thoughtfulness. “Thanks. They’re lovely.”

  After she’d dashed inside and endured her mother’s oohs and aahs over her blooms, she returned to where Ben was sitting in a wooden rocker on the porch.

  “All set?” He was wearing a sport jacket over a pair of dark jeans with a pair of cowboy boots.

  She nodded and climbed into his truck while he held the door and offered her his hand as assistance.

  She’d decided on a lightweight printed sundress, mostly yellow, and flat ballet slippers. High heels weren’t her thing, mostly because they were terribly uncomfortable. After her somewhat formal upbringing, Sabine reveled in her more casual wardrobe. Of course, she dressed more professionally for work, but always comfortable.

  “You look gorgeous.” His blue eyes were framed by thick black lashes. Had she ever noticed his eyes? They were just part of the impressive Ben package. To pick it apart might be overwhelming to a mere mortal woman.

  His compliment made her blush. It shouldn’t have. Men had complimented her over the years, but it had hardly fazed her. Ben’s words flustered Sabine.

  “Thanks. I wasn’t sure where we were going, so I figured I’d be okay in this.” She sounded like a first-class goober.

  “Since the verdict hasn’t been reached in the trial you testified against my client in, I thought maybe we’d best not be seen in public.”

  “Oh, thanks for thinking of it. I’m usually the worry wart about that kind of thing.”

  “So, I came up with an alternative.” At her suspicious expression, he laughed. “No, we’re not going to my place, well, not exactly.”

  “What’s the plan, then?”

  “You’ll have to trust me.”

  Trust him? Trust Ben Laroux. She nearly laughed out loud at the notion. If he had any notion of the things she’d heard about him over the past two years, he’d be mortified. Of course, all of that was communicated through strict doctor/patient confidentiality. He could never know her prejudices against him. What a bizarre situation.

  “Hmmm. Not sure I’m ready for trust,” Sabine said with a smile, almost kidding. But she did trust him, or at least she did in this instance.

  “I’m convinced you’ll be happy with the compromise between going out to a fancy restaurant and dining at home. Just give me a chance.”

  Just give him a chance. “I’m curious.” That pretty much summed it up for now.

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the drive at his family’s mansion/event-planning business, the Evangeline House. Sabine had been here before on a couple of occasions. He’d grown up here, and his mother still lived in the house. Everyone in three counties knew about this place. The event planning business was legend for hosting weddings and nearly every other kind of party or event.

  “Are we getting married?” she joked.

  “Do you want to?” he asked, deadpan.

  “No, but I am hungry.”

  “Whew. Okay, because I hadn’t planned a wedding, only dinner.”

  “This isn’t a restaurant, is it?”

  “Not for most people.”

  “Not sure what you mean.”

  He came around and opened her car door, true Southern gentleman-style, then led her up the steps of the front porch that extended the entire length of the plantation home. Ben opened the heavy front door without knocking or ringing the doorbell, motioning for her to precede him.

  The place was gorgeous, like stepping back in time—in the most Southern and charming way. Sabine almost expected to see grand corseted ladies appear with ball gowns and yards of lace and ribbons. Instead, his mother and sister entered the room, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt emblazoned with Evangeline House logos.

  “Hey there, Sabine. So glad you could come tonight. We’ve set you up in the library. Grey’s just finished the remodel work and it’s all set for dinner. Ben, show her the way. The wine and appetizers are already set up.” Cammie, Ben’s twin sister had obviously put her chef’s skills to work for their evening’s pleasure.

  “Oh, that sounds nice. Thanks, Cammie.”

  “Thanks, Sis.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “So nice to see you again, Sabine,” Maureen Laroux, Ben’s mother shook Sabine’s hand. “You two enjoy your dinner. Please let us know if you need anything—and give a shout if this scamp gets out of line.” Maureen’s eyes twinkled, obviously adoring her son.

&nbs
p; “Thank you both so much. Something smells delicious.”

  “Hope you’re not allergic to seafood. Surf and turf coming up in a bit,” Cammie announced and headed back toward what Sabine assumed was the direction of the good smells.

  Ben led her to the library. It had been turned into a library dining room. Sabine had seen this new trend in decorating magazines where entire rooms had walls of shelves filled with books lining the walls and, in the center, a large dining table.

  The bookshelves in this gorgeous place were floor to ceiling, stained a deep mahogany, and filled with thousands of what looked like ancient, but well-preserved leather-bound tomes. Sabine sighed. All those lovely books.

  Every space not covered by bookshelves was paneled and stained. The floors were wide-planked maple and the rug was so incredible, and obviously antique that she was afraid to walk on it, much less take the chance of dropping seafood on it that wouldn’t smell so wonderful tomorrow.

  The dining table was a carved masterpiece from history as well. “They expect us to eat in here?” Sabine was mortified.

  She had grown up in a similar style, but they’d not been allowed to eat anywhere but the kitchen except on Christmas and Thanksgiving in the formal family dining room.

  “It’s a dining room. People eat in here all the time.”

  “Should be a crime.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s all good.” He pulled out a chair and she sat.

  She had to admit; his manners were excellent.

  “So, Sabine, where did you grow up?” he asked while they sipped wine by candlelight.

  Sabine was charmed by her surroundings and by this handsome man who’d planned such a perfect evening. “New Orleans,” she answered before thinking better of it.

  Crap. She hadn’t meant to let that slip, but she was lulled by the soft, background piano music and ambient lighting.

  “I’m surprised I didn’t pick up on the accent.”

  “Probably because I lived uptown my whole life. Most people with the stronger New Orleans drawl live in the outlying areas—Metairie, Kenner, and over on the Westbank and North Shore.”

  “I had no idea it was different depending on what part of town you were from.”

  “My N’awlins bursts out every now and then, when I get angry or excited. Same with my mother.”

  “Kind of like my redneck drawl.”

  She smiled. Her lack of an accent was something of an anomaly. But she’d worked hard to drop what was left of it too. Less questions from the locals that way.

  The stuffed oysters were delicious. “Mmm. I haven’t had these since we left.”

  “How long have you been in Ministry?” Crap. He was going ahead with the full-on medical history.

  “About two years.” She didn’t elaborate.

  “Do you have any other siblings?”

  “I have a sister and a half-brother.” She tried to answer briefly, to put an end to the questions, but he continued.

  “Oh. Where do they live?”

  “My sister is a freelance photographer and moves around with her job a lot, and my brother lives in New Orleans.” There.

  “What line of work is your brother in?” Geez.

  He’s a nasty little piece of shit who’s involved with lowlife scumbags that do God-knows-what. And I have no idea how he actually makes a living besides his stupid trust fund. “He’s just graduated recently from Tulane. He and I aren’t that close. He’s eight years younger than me.”

  “What about your father?”

  In jail for jury tampering and collusion. “Dead. Um, I mean he passed away a few years ago from a sudden heart attack.”

  What could have possessed her to say such a thing? She’d never been a liar. But he was getting a little too close for comfort with his line of questioning. Plus, he’d never have a chance to know more about her past, so no point in bringing up all that awful baggage.

  “So sorry. I lost my dad when I was in high school. I don’t think it’s something any of us ever recovered from completely.” His voice took on a husky tone. He obviously hadn’t noticed her discomfort regarding her family.

  She was a horrible fraud. “I know what you mean.” She knew about what had happened to their father because of some of the therapy she’d done with other family members—Grey and Samantha, in particular.

  “Excuse us.” Cammie and Maureen eased into the room, quickly removing the remnants of their first course, replacing the silverware and resetting the table with fresh wine and glasses. The lobster tails were broiled and drizzled with some sort of lemon caper sauce. Accompanying the lobster was a perfect petite filet. Obviously, Ben had informed his sister of her carnivorous appetite.

  “This looks amazing. Thank you again for such a lovely evening. Your house is incredible.”

  “Well, it’s not every day brother Ben here asks us for a favor. We’re usually the ones who rely on him. We’re happy to do it for both of you. Goodness knows you’ve helped my family in ways I can never repay. We’ll scoot out now and let you have some privacy while you eat. Ring the bell if you need anything else.” Cammie and Grey were very open about his and Samantha’s therapy sessions.

  Ben grinned at his sister. “Thanks.”

  “You have a really great family,” Sabine said; and she meant it.

  The interactions she’d had with Cammie and Grey had been very honest and positive. There was a deep love between the couple that Sabine couldn’t help but envy just a little. They’d been through hell and come out the other side.

  “They’re all batshit crazy, but it works for us.” He smiled at her then, a genuinely relaxed and contented expression, one that felt miles apart from the surface-beautiful, suave womanizer whose exploits she’d been hearing about for so long.

  He seemed like a nice guy having a nice time. And Sabine responded to that in a very basic way.

  They chatted for a while about Ben’s childhood, his sisters, and their kids. It seemed he tutored math, taught everyone to ride bicycles, and could be relied upon day or night to pick up someone from school, the airport, or take them to the emergency room for stitches. He was quite bonded to his family. Something Sabine could hardly comprehend.

  Besides the thing with all the women, he seemed like such a great guy. But that was a very big thing.

  After dinner, Ben suggested they walk around the grounds of the house. It was a nice evening. He tucked her arm inside his. It was an old-fashioned, romantic gesture, which made Sabine feel shy and very girly. But she didn’t resist. He was warm and smelled like soap and man.

  She hadn’t been close to a man in any kind of intimate way in such a long time. An unhealthily long time, which made this whole situation uncomfortable. Two and a half glasses of wine were more than she normally drank at a time and she was feeling a little buzzy just now.

  They came upon a wicker swing, hung from a huge oak in the garden behind the house. “I can’t imagine how nice it must be having your childhood home so close.” Sabine’s childhood home had been a haven, until it wasn’t.

  “I can’t imagine things any other way. This place has been our home since we were born.” Ben took her hand and tugged her down toward the swing.

  Once they were sitting, he didn’t let go of her hand, and was now stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb as the swing gently creaked to and fro on its chains.

  She wondered how much action this swing had seen in its day. No, she didn’t want to know. The hard facts about Ben and her foolish attraction toward him were fighting a mighty war right this second. The last thing Sabine needed was to jump from the smart ship to the sinking one with all the women of the county who’d been struck down with the “Do-Me-Ben” disease.

  When he leaned in close, she inhaled his clean, soap-scented, manly smell. Before she could come up with a denial, he kissed her. His lips, so warm, so sexy, were firm, but not exactly demanding.

  She heard a sigh. Was that her? When his strong arms encircled her back, she pres
sed closer. He groaned. She tingled in the parts that hadn’t had attention in far too long. She couldn’t catch her breath—or get close enough. Oh, God. Was there room on this swing—

  He pulled back first. “Uh—maybe we should—” He sounded like he’d been running sprints.

  Sabine realized at that moment that she was straddling his thighs. She was on his lap. And he was sporting quite the erection. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I—don’t usually. I mean, I’m not—”

  He laughed softly. “No explanation needed.”

  Sabine was mortified. She’d found her way back to her own side of the swing, and quickly pulled her dress back down her legs.

  But she was still exceptionally turned-on by that kiss. “I feel like I need to explain. It’s just—that it’s been a really long time since—since I’ve been with a man, or even kissed anyone. I guess, I wasn’t expecting my own reaction.”

  “Wow. And I thought it was just me you couldn’t resist. I guess I could have been anyone.” Ben ran a hand through his shiny brown hair.

  “Yes. I guess. I mean, I don’t know. I just haven’t dated, or been so intimately close to anyone that my response surprised me.”

  “Sounds like maybe you’re past due,” Ben said, then rose from the swing, and held out a hand to her. It was the gesture of a gentleman.

  She took his hand and stood. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re really not a bad guy.”

  He stared at her for a second. “I never thought I was. Not sure why you did either.” He shook his head and led her back across the yard to the house.

  That hadn’t come out right, and she wasn’t quite sure how to apologize without explaining where her information came from.

  While Ben checked his phone in the other room, Sabine ducked her head into the kitchen to thank Cammie and Miss Maureen for providing such a lovely evening.

  “Oh, honey, don’t mention it. It was our pleasure,” Maureen replied.

  “Plus, it’s fun watching Ben pine after you like this. That hasn’t happened in years. Not since Lisa—oops.”

  “Lisa?” Sabine was curious.