Under the Stars

by Tia Louise

  Like everything we’ve done, it’s exciting and clandestine and perfect, and when I finally see my future husband, my breath catches. He’s gorgeous standing by the small fountain waiting for me. He’s wearing a dark suit, and his hair is pushed back from his face. His blue silk tie makes his blue eyes glow, and I can see the dimple in his cheek despite the light scruff of beard.

  A small crescent of pink petals and two white pillar candles in jars form the staging area where we’ll say our vows. Roland passes me to Mark before stepping aside next to Armand, Phillip, and Evie.

  Evie’s wearing a long, pale pink dress, and Jillian is in her arms. Our baby is all in white with a bow in her thickening hair, and she lets out a little squeal when she sees me. We laugh softly, and once the music ends, we draw closer in a group to begin the ceremony.

  I hand the bouquet to Molly, and just before taking Mark’s hands, I slip the thumb drive into his breast pocket

  “I’ll explain later,” I whisper.

  Naturally, that provokes a murmur from our friends. Mark only grins and covers my hands with his larger ones. He lifts my fingers and kisses the backs of them as the minister begins.

  Another gentle breeze swirls around us as we recite the traditional vows and exchange our rings. My wedding band has three small, emerald-cut diamonds along the front. It’s my compromise with Mark, and after we’ve promised to love, honor, and protect, the minister falls silent for us to say our own thoughts.

  “Lara.” Mark reaches for my waist, pulling me closer to his body. “The first time I saw you, I dreamed of making you mine. Despite all the forces pulling us apart, I never gave up on that dream. I promise always to catch you when you fall, protect you from the darkness, and hold your hand in the light.” My eyes heat as he says the final words. “Thank you for my beautiful little girl and for making my dream come true. I’ll love you all my life.”

  Smiling, I reach up to touch the tears away. Jillian makes a noise that sounds like Mama, and I look over my shoulder. Evie is right there, and I reach out for the baby, taking her in my arms. Mark smiles, and puts a hand on her little arm.

  Noises of the street vendors setting up grows louder around us, and I hear the clip-clop of the horse-drawn carriages taking their spots to wait along Decatur Street.

  Clearing my throat, I begin. “Mark, you saved my life, you made me laugh, and you gave me this beautiful little girl.” Pausing, I inhale a shaky breath. “You’re my hero and my handsome prince all in one gorgeous package.” I look down, shaking my head. “I’m sorry I ran from you… I’m sorry I was afraid. I promise, from now on, I’ll only ever run toward you, into your arms. You’ve proven you’re strong enough to face anything that might chase us. Thank you for loving me, for giving me hope, and for rescuing me from the darkness. I’ll love you forever.”

  A loud sniffle from Evie makes us laugh, and the minister cuts in. “I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

  Mark pulls me to him, covering my mouth with his. I reach up to hold the back of his neck, and as our lips part, a loud cheer erupts around us. Our kiss transforms into a laugh as a brass band starts playing “Tootie Ma” behind us.

  Mark gives me another quick kiss before turning to our clapping, smiling friends.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he says, and we blow out the candles and take off down the sidewalk in the direction of Preservation Hall.

  Our reception is set up inside, with two tables holding assorted breakfast foods from scrambled eggs to fresh beignets and a huge bowl of grits. Another table holds Mimosas and a station for Bloody Marys. Small bouquets of flowers are in Mason jars and tied to the iron gates at the entrance.

  Mark and I have our first dance as husband and wife to “I Think I Love You.” From there, the playlist continues with New Orleans standards and newer favorites from “Santiago” to “That’s It,” while we mingle with our friends in the growing crowd, sip drinks, and have breakfast.

  “This is amazing,” Joshua says, sliding up beside Molly, a Mimosa in his hand.

  Roland bounces Jillian on his hip, and she smiles, clapping to the music. Mark’s hands grip my waist, and he holds my back to his chest.

  The weathered grey interior blends with the flowers, the food, and the music in an inviting scene of family and home. I’m tapping in time with the music when it suddenly stops.

  The fellow on the piano holds out a hand to me, and shouts, “Time for cake!”

  The music changes into Mardi Gras, and two ladies walk out. One holds a cake decorated with a white basket-weave frosting and littered with purple irises, yellow roses, and green carnations. The other has an enormous king cake with beads and purple, green, and yellow sugar-covered icing.

  Stepping out of Mark’s embrace, I lead him to the table where we pose for pictures as we cut the cakes and give each other small bites. He leans in and kisses me sugary sweet as the room bursts into cheers and applause.

  “Happy?” He holds my waist, and rubs his nose against mine.

  “Ecstatic.” I kiss his lips again. “I’ve wanted to be here with you again so long.”

  The band takes a break as the cake is cut and handed out to all the guests and visitors. Coffee is served, and Evie stands with her head on Armand’s shoulder. Their hands are clasped, and Phillip sits in a nearby chair, holding a coffee.

  “Armand.” I go to him and taking his hands. “Finally, I can thank you for how you helped us with Seattle.”

  He smiles and kisses my cheek. “I was glad to do it, and Evie was glad to have the baby all to herself for a few days.”

  “Still, it would have been a lot harder and taken a lot longer. I would have been frantic worrying about her—”

  “I’m sorry I had to leave before you returned, but I visited with your friend Mr. Lovel while I was in Paris. He sends you his best wishes… and a gift.”

  Armand takes a narrow white box from his breast pocket and hands it to me.

  “Oh!” I take it. A folded note is inside, and I read the inscription.

  Wishing you a lifetime of happiness, and if you ever decide to sing again…

  -Freddie

  I take out a beautiful gold necklace with a delicate gold treble clef charm.

  “It’s gorgeous. But I didn’t know you and Freddie—”

  “He’s a business partner. We’ve actually worked together for years.”

  Glancing over at Roland, I notice he’s drifted closer to where the band is playing. Jillian is on his arm, and I feel a mixture of regret and gratitude. As long as I’ve known him, he was always looking for ways to take care of us.

  All of us.

  I feel bad for the times I doubted him, was cross with him. The night I threatened to take Jilly and leave.

  “What’s wrong?” Molly appears at my side.

  “Just thinking about Roland. How much he helped us.”

  “Armand gave you a gift?” She frowns looking at the necklace.

  “It’s actually from Freddie. They know each other.”

  “Small world,” she says, tracing her finger over the gold charm. “It’s pretty.”

  Joshua is at her side, and I reach out to grasp his hand. “I’m so glad you could come.”

  He gives me that signature smile. “Me too. I’ve never been to New Orleans. It’s just like everyone says.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Good food, great music, sticky…” I start to laugh, and he pulls Molly onto the dance floor.

  She tries to complain, but he manages to get her dancing anyway. My heart is full seeing her happy with him.

  Roland walks up to me still carrying Jillian. I put my arm around his waist and a hand on my daughter’s back as the music transforms into a slow waltz.

  “It’s perfect,” I say, moving side to side.

  He nods. “Everyone seems happy, settled.” A little sigh. “Your mother would have loved all this. She loved everything about the city.”

  “I wish I’d known h
er.” The words are out before I can stop them.

  My lips tighten and I blame the mimosas.

  “You don’t have to look ashamed,” Roland says. “It’s okay to miss her.”

  “I don’t want to miss her.”

  “Why not?” Jillian puts her head on his shoulder, and he kisses her hair.

  I stroke her baby back. “Because she left me here… with Gavin.”

  “She left you with the sisters in an orphanage.” We sway side to side as the piano takes over the melody. He hesitates, thinking. “But you’re right, you ended up with Gavin. Because he loved her. As sick as she was, she was still so beautiful, and when she died, he promised to take care of you.”

  “A promise he did not keep.”

  “Maybe… he gave us a place to live, food, work.”

  My eyes widen, and my voice rises. “He was a pervert and a criminal.”

  Mark appears almost immediately, putting his hand on my back and touching my cheek. “You okay?”

  I give him a nod, calming my breathing.

  “Let me have her.” He lifts our sleepy daughter out of Roland’s arms and carries her to the courtyard.

  “Shh…” Roland puts his hand on my waist, finishing the dance. “You misunderstood. I’m not defending him. I’m defending her. Those days were difficult, especially living on the street. You were a little girl, and your mother had to do what she could to survive, to feed you.”

  My teeth clench, and I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about the past today.”

  “I understand. When you do, I’m here.”

  The song ends and we break apart. Just before he drifts away, I catch his hand again. “Wait. I wanted to thank you. For everything.”

  He touches my chin and smiles. “It’s what I do.”

  Walking away, I imagine he’ll be looking for any chance to sit in with the band before long. I feel our early morning wakeup combined with mimosas and good food catching up with me. I wander out to the courtyard where my husband swaying side to side, our little girl asleep on his shoulder.

  My chest fills at the sight. “Shall we head home, Mr. Fitzhugh?”

  I lean my head against Mark’s shoulder.

  “As beautiful as that dress is, I’m ready to get you out of it,” he says, and the rumble in his voice heats my panties.

  “I’m ready for you to take me out of it.”

  His blue eyes darken. “I’ll get the car.”

  23

  Love is a verb.

  Mark

  We found our uptown cottage less than a week after returning from Seattle.

  It’s actually a converted duplex tucked behind a large garden district home facing St. Charles Avenue. We’re close to the river and the streetcar lines—as well as two universities. Lara has sent applications to both, and while she still wants to sing with Roland, she’s going to get a degree in the meantime.

  My application to join the NOPD was quickly approved, thanks to a glowing referral from my senior officer in Alaska. My rank and status increased swiftly as I discussed my experience, and I was added to the mayor’s special task force on drug and sex trafficking.

  Being familiar with the underworld gives me special insight when following leads and tracking down criminals. In my first month on the job I’ve been able to shut down a number of storefronts running drug rings and money laundering operations.

  The only case I haven’t closed is the disappearance of Reese Landry. We never found a body, but we also never heard from him again. Armand and Roland are convinced he wandered out into the night, got lost in the delta, and died from his wound or blood loss.

  I’ll probably never stop searching for the truth.

  Today, all that is pushed aside. Not wanting to wait any longer, Lara enlisted Roland’s help, and the two of them put together a simple New Orleans wedding that took us to all the places we know and love.

  From our six a.m. start time to now, I think it was a pretty perfect day, and now I’m driving my wife and daughter home.

  I park my Acura on the street and place my hand on Lara’s knee as I open my door. “Wait here.”

  I quickly take sleeping Jillian out of her car seat and jog her inside, tucking her in her crib and making sure she drifts to sleep again. Then I’m back at the car, where my always-stubborn wife has stepped out and is standing with her arms crossed, her back against the door.

  Pausing at the front steps, I drink in her sexy body loosely covered in lace. “I love that dress.”

  Her cheeks flush pretty pink, and she lifts the side of the almost-sheer skirt. “It was my one splurge. Designer from Barcelona.”

  I take a slower pace, returning to her at the car. The way the delicate top is designed, the lace appears to be falling off her shoulders, dipping low around her breasts. It’s incredibly sexy and has my semi rising in my slacks.

  “I’m not complaining. You’re gorgeous in it.” Stopping in front of her, I reach down to lift her in my arms. “Time to get across that threshold and get naked.”

  She laughs, rolling her eyes, which immediately widen. “I forgot to toss my bouquet!”

  “We’ll put it in a vase on the table instead.”

  Her lips twist to the side. “I guess we’re not very traditional.”

  “Traditional is for boring people. We can start being traditional after today if you want.”

  She leans forward and kisses my cheek. “As long as we’re together.”

  We’re across the threshold, but I keep going until we’re in our bedroom at the back of the house. It has a large master bathroom attached with a jetted, garden tub. I put my wife’s feet on the carpet and go to it, switching on the hot water.

  “Hm,” she sighs. “I like where your head’s at.”

  “You’re going to like where it’s about to be even more.”

  She really laughs, then squeals when I lift her off her feet and drop her flat on her back on our king-sized bed. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly, creating those sexy little peaks at the top of her bra, and my semi is fully erect.

  Dropping to my knees, I slide my hands under her skirt, moving them higher up her thighs along with her dress, and she lets out a low moan. I don’t stop, bunching the soft silk around her waist as I kiss the line of her lacy panties from her hip to the center below her navel.

  Catching the sides with my fingers, I drag them away so I can sink my tongue over her clit and circle it fast and hard.

  “Oh, God… Mark!” Her hips jump, and I give her a suck.

  She’s fresh and sweet like the ocean, and I want her to come hard so I can flip her over and fuck her good.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this since you stepped around that statue this morning.” I speak against her thigh, letting my beard tickle her sensitive skin. Chill bumps break out across her skin.

  “Please…” she whimpers, and I’m back on her clit, sinking two fingers deep in her clenching core while I lick and pull that little bud.

  Her hands slap the mattress, and her body writhes. I can feel she’s starting to come around my fingers.

  “Mark—” Her voice breaks as her back arches off the bed. “Oh, God!”

  She jerks as if electricity is running through her, and I slide my fingers out, ripping those panties away. I quickly turn her onto her stomach and push the dress up so her smooth ass is exposed.

  Unfastening my slacks, I let them fall to the floor as I scoop her up by her hips and guide my cock to her entrance. She’s clenching and wet and I thrust balls deep, groaning loudly as her breathy cry fills the room. Catching both her hips, I pull her against me, fucking her hard as she begs me for more.

  Her palms are flat on the mattress and she pushes against it, bucking her ass against my pelvis, riding out the waves of her orgasm as I climb. Deep inside, her pussy spasms and pulls me, and my eyes close as my orgasm spreads through my torso.

  “Fuck yeah,” I hiss, holding her stomach as I brace my hand beside hers on the mattress.


  I’m leaning forward, thrusting harder, driven by the waves of pleasure radiating through me. I’m on one knee and it’s growing tighter, tighter until…

  “Lara… yes…” I groan as I shoot deep inside her, pulsing and filling her, flying through the stars as I jerk once, twice, holding her body to mine.

  She arches up, pressing her back to my chest and threading her fingers in the back of my hair. Her head turns, searching for my mouth, and I kiss her good, tongues curling, tasting, lips pulling ravenously as the waves subside around us.

  Another kiss, another taste…

  “Shit!” I scoop her up and carry her to the almost-full tub.

  I pull the stopper to allow some of the water to drain as we discard our remaining clothes.

  “It’s so nice.” She sprinkles something that smells amazing into the warm water, and I kiss the top of her shoulder.

  The back of her dress is a pattern of lace that wraps around her upper arms along a sheer panel. She drapes it over the door, and when I turn again, she’s walking to me wearing nothing but a garter around her right thigh.

  Her bare pussy is pink and tempting between her thighs, and my dick is perking up again.

  “You’re going to kill me,” I groan, and she smiles.

  “Touch me,” she whispers, placing her palms on my chest and pushing my dress shirt and jacket off my shoulders.

  I toss my clothes over a chair and cup her beautiful breasts, sliding my thumbs back and forth over her hardening nipples. Then I reach lower, running two fingers back and forth between her legs. Her eyes close, and she licks her lips.

  Leaning down, I kiss her again, parting those lips and tracing her tongue with mine. She lifts her chin to kiss me deeper, and I hold her as we both step into the warm water, sliding lower, skin against skin.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  “I love you,” I say, cupping her ass before sliding my fingers over her clit, slow and lingering, in a rhythm.