“So change the rules,” Gerry said. “You’re the owner.”
“Nope,” Mirabel said. “It’s a good rule, so it stays. Now, tell me about April and June, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll take you home with me tonight.”
He gave her that adorable, lopsided grin. “Let’s get cleaned up first.” He turned on the shower in the corner of the room and herded Mirabel inside.
“Once the two of them got talking,” he said, “they couldn’t stop. It goes way, way back. Their mother—my grandmother—was one of the debutantes who could have been a Mardi Gras queen but was ousted by Dorinda Darblay. She married Arthur after the war purely for revenge—not an ideal formula for marriage, especially since he was still in love with Dorinda.” Gently, he rinsed the chocolate syrup from Mirabel’s hair.
“When Dorinda showed up again after divorcing the oil millionaire, April and June freaked out. My grandparents’ marriage was long over, but April and June wanted vengeance. They didn’t tell my mother what they planned, because she would never have agreed.” A shadow crossed his face. “They said some really ugly things about my mom today.”
“That just shows how wonderful she must have been,” Mirabel said.
Gerry pulled her close. “So I guess since they called me a coward and a traitor, that makes me okay, too.”
“It makes you perfect.” Mirabel put her arms around him and squeezed him tight, and warm water poured over them as they clung together.
“Not long after Arthur and Dorinda started seeing each other again, Arthur was beaten almost to death. Dorinda sent him the gown and parure as a memento but refused to see him because it would endanger his life. He and Dorinda never saw each other again.” Gerry kissed Mirabel’s hair. “June had already admitted it, but if you’d seen the expression on April’s face, you would know as well as I do that she paid to have Arthur beaten.”
For a while they were silent. Gerry finished rinsing the syrup, cream, and every last lingering bean off Mirabel. Then they made love in the shower, regardless of the rules.
Afterward, he turned off the water. His expression serious, he said, “There’s more to the story.”
“You already knew they sent you to military school because of your vampire girlfriend,” Mirabel said. She could think more clearly when Gerry kept his hands, mouth, and penis to himself. “And I guess it might have been your grandma’s family instead of the oilman who had Arthur sent away.”
“It seems likely,” Gerry said.
“What else could it be?” asked Mirabel.
“April and June didn’t know Dorinda had broken with Arthur voluntarily. They wanted to make sure it was over for good. I don’t know whether June would have consented to murder, but regardless, April kept that plan to herself.”
Mirabel gaped. “She shot Dorinda?”
“She wouldn’t admit to it, but I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure that she did.”
“Why didn’t Arthur do something about it? How could he leave you with a murderer?” Tears burned behind her eyes.
“Strange as it seems, I think he was protecting me. I’m sure he suspected, and that explains why he stopped speaking to them. But the police had other suspects, and his motive, as a former lover and the man who held the gown and parure, was much, much stronger than April’s. The police and the media would have been all over it. Even if he hadn’t gone to prison, chances are April and June would have won total custody of me. The way things were, he got me during vacations, and he taught me the kinds of values my mom would have wanted me to have.”
Tears ran unheeded down Mirabel’s cheeks. “Poor Arthur. Poor you.”
“It’s all over now.” Gerry gathered her into his arms and held her.
He got a couple of towels from the rack and handed her one. “Mirabel, I owe you an apology. I had very little reason to suspect you of being a gold digger, but I let my aunts railroad me into checking you out.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her. “Can you forgive me?”
“If you can forgive me for thinking you were a traitor,” she said.
“I should have told you what I’d figured out,” he said, “but I was too upset and freaked out and wishing my suspicions weren’t true. I had to confront April and June first and know for sure.”
“I understand,” she said. “And I am a gold digger, in a way. I like delving into unsolved mysteries and finding lost treasure. I knew about Arthur’s collection, and I knew he’d been at that Mardi Gras ball. I made a point of meeting him and did my best to charm whatever information I could out of him.” She laughed. “He didn’t want to talk about the past. You remind me of him. A lot.”
She dropped her bra and panties in the trash and put on the flip-flops and raincoat.
“That’s all you’re going to wear?”
“I left the house in Dorinda’s gown, remember? Someone at the museum loaned me this coat.”
He looked her up and down. “Now this is my kind of kink. Will you flash me a time or two on the way home?”
* * *
Darkness had fallen. Gerry and Mirabel walked slowly through the humid streets of Bayou Gavotte. “You probably don’t want to hear this, sweetheart, but I have to tell you,” he said.
“What?” Mirabel came to a stop, looking up at him, and the purplish beams of a streetlight caught her in its glow. Her coat had fallen open.
He eyed her glorious nakedness. “I think I’m fixated on you.”
“Sometimes fixated is perfectly fine.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.
“Such as if I want to marry you?” he asked. “Sorry if it’s too soon, but I love you, Mirabel. I did from the moment I first saw you. Before you let out all that vampire lust.”
“Oh, Gerry.” She put her arms around him and held him tight. “I love you, too, but—”
His heart squeezed painfully. “But what?”
“But just like Dorinda, I’m a magnet for trouble and always will be.”
***
It had about killed her to say that. She wanted to keep him—wanted it so badly that it hurt.
“I can handle trouble,” Gerry said. “Unlike Arthur, I know how to defend myself.”
He sure did. “But I don’t want you to have to,” she said.
“Most likely I won’t. My connections with the mob are just remote enough to be useful but not get in the way. We might have to attend the family picnic, but it’s sort of fun.”
“I like picnics,” she said. True, he’d showed remarkable sangfroid dealing with a mobster. An ordinary guy with self-defense skills and connections might just be the perfect compromise for a vampire girl.
“If you’re worried about April and June, don’t be. I’ve tied their hands, which Arthur couldn’t or wouldn’t do. If my aunts try to harm us, Stan will make sure the whole story comes out.”
“It should come out anyway,” Mirabel muttered.
“I agree, and pending advice from Stan and another lawyer, I may call in the police. Even if there’s no proof that April killed Dorinda, she and June will suffer a great deal of unpleasantness.”
“As they deserve,” Mirabel said, but she didn’t want to think about that just now. Love mattered so much more. What an astonishing prospect stretched before her! A husband and maybe children; no more violent boyfriends or unwanted legacies.
“Gerry,” she said softly, hoping beyond hope, “are you sure you want to marry me? Because I’m dying to say yes.”
“More sure than I’ve ever been of anything,” he said, and his voice was firm and happy. She was good for him; he was perfect for her. Hand in hand, they strolled home through the warm Bayou Gavotte night.
I hope you enjoyed reading Back to Bite You. It’s a prequel to my series about the funky little town of Bayou Gavotte. The first full-length novel in the series is Sunrise in a Garden of Love & Evil, in which Ophelia, the vampire landscaper in Back to Bite You who has sworn off men, finds the one hunk she can’t ignore:
Dark secrets a
bound in the town of Bayou Gavotte, Louisiana, from blackmail to fetish clubs to murder, and when blood-and-love starved vampire Ophelia Beliveau calls the police to scare away whoever is desecrating her garden, Detective Gideon O’Toole unearths more than he ever dreamed.
The other books in the series are Tastes of Love & Evil and Heart of Constantine.
If you’d like to know when my new releases are available, please follow me @BarbaraMonajem on Twitter, find me on Facebook, or sign up for my newsletter via the contact form on my website, www.BarbaraMonajem.com. I’d love to hear from you! (I’d also appreciate reviews, if you have the time and the inclination. Thanks!)
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