She shut her eyes to resist the tears suddenly tickling behind her eyes.
“I came up with a great plan for The Arbors, too.”
“Another one?” She sounded almost normal. As long as she kept her eyes closed.
He chuckled, a burst of warm breath against her mouth, almost a kiss. “It requires a leap of faith on your part.”
“Really?” As if she hadn’t been making those left and right since deciding to leave New York.
“I want you to quit Northstar and run this place with me.” Squeezing her hands tightly in his, he said, “You won’t get this kind of job security anywhere else.”
“I’ve got good benefits and a great retirement package.”
“But if you marry me, you’ll have my retirement, too. And the house is paid off. Both of them, actually.”
A relief so profound washed through her, robbed her ability to reply. She just held on to him, her anchor in the whirling emotions. The future suddenly didn’t feel so uncertain, lonely.
But then a thought occurred to her. “How am I going to benefit from your retirement when I’m so much older than you?”
His head came up, and she met his gaze, a curious gaze.
“You’re worried about that?”
She nodded.
He caressed her hand with an idle thumb, considering. “Did I mention Alzheimer’s runs in my family?”
“No, but I figured it out.”
“Neither of us can predict the future, Susanna. We only get right now. I say we stop worrying and enjoy what we have together. You game?”
All those feelings swirling inside started to calm. There was only one answer. “I’m game.”
“Then put all thoughts of age out of your pretty head because you’re in luck. It so happens I have a knack for dealing with old folks.”
She gave a watery laugh. “And you’re sure you’ll be content with becoming a part of my family?”
“That’s the only thing I want.”
That’s when her tears finally broke free, relieved tears and happy tears, in a moment filled with such promise.
Guiding his hands to her stomach, she held them there, where a little person who wasn’t much more than a tiny heartbeat was waiting to be loved. “Think you could find a little room in your heart for one more?”
He simply sat there, his expression transforming as he visibly reasoned that through. He shook his head slightly. He finally said, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She nodded, the tears flowing.
He gathered her close as if he’d waited forever to hold her, whispering, “I love you, Susanna.” And she melted against him, the only place in the world she wanted to be in right now.
EPILOGUE
JAY BROKE THROUGH the last of the surf and sank onto the sugary white sand. The sunset built to what was sure to be a grand finale tonight, already layering the sky in streaks of blues and hazy purples, casting the water in gold. Colors were more vibrant in this part of the world, and Polynesian beaches were everything Jay had heard they’d be.
Most beautiful of all was the mermaid who emerged from the surf at a slightly slower pace, the very reason Jay had rushed ahead, so he could enjoy the enticing view she made.
His wife.
Her soft curves were molten in the setting sun. Water sluiced over her, leaving her hair slicked back from her face, her skin glossy, perfect to caress every bare inch of her.
Jay knew exactly what her wet skin would feel like to the touch, because he’d already made love to her on this pristine beach, had realized yet another dream in a life that was suddenly filled with living out his dreams.
And none were as amazing as the one who grew inside his beautiful wife, the roundness of her belly so natural against her slim curves, so bold in her white bikini that only showcased the lush terrain of her body.
She knew he watched her. He could see her heightened awareness in the way she stepped lightly on the sand, knew that had the sun not begun to set, there’d be color riding high in her cheeks. She still didn’t quite believe he found her so incredibly gorgeous, and Jay relished the opportunity of every minute of every day to prove it.
Sinking beside him, all fluid grace, she leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her. He could see the smile play at the corners of her mouth when he pressed a kiss to her wet hair. They sat in silence as the sunset swelled in the sky, the light growing sharper in those surreal moments before the sun vanished below the horizon.
The tiki torches had been lit, presumably by some of the invisible staff at this island paradise resort. The flames dotted the path to their overwater bungalow, their luxury accommodations for the duration of their honeymoon, the perfect place to kick off the start of their lives as husband and wife.
Jay rested a hand on her warm belly, loved to touch the tightness of her skin, a miracle in the making. Their lives had been filled with everyday miracles since his return from Mexico. So many more than they could have possibly imagined, or maybe they were just determined to appreciate each and every one.
Every single thing seemed to fall into place from Northstar’s mutual agreement to shelve the deal in an effort to streamline investments during their financial challenges to Drew’s leave in time to serve as best man in the wedding.
A lavish affair that welcomed family and friends from all over, including the staff of The Arbors and their guests.
They’d brought in temp help from an agency, and invited the residents’ families to accompany the residents to the wedding if they were able, and many of them were. There’d been weddings before at his house, but never so lavish.
Susanna was determined that Jay live every one of his dreams. Seeing her emerge from the house on her father’s arm to meet him beneath the arbors in full bloom was a moment that would live in his wildest dreams.
He prayed he’d never forget the sight of her.
But he wouldn’t waste one second worrying about the future. Not when it would cause him to miss one second of now.
Not when they were surrounded by so much love.
Brooke had stood as maid of honor beside Karan, Susanna’s mom and mother-in-law. Jay’s groomsmen had been Drew, Walter, Pete and Brandon. There’d been professional photos and video footage, and all the traditional wedding events. They danced their first dance as husband and wife. They cut cake and tossed bouquets and garters.
Brooke and Brandon had delighted them with a toast welcoming Jay to the family that humbled him by their graciousness and had Susanna in tears.
Susanna’s parents had surprised them by announcing they’d purchased an RV large enough to invite the in-laws to make trips from New York.
Karan and Charles had nearly killed them with shock. Their wedding gift turned out to be the gift of themselves. Now that they were starting their own family, Charles wanted to be closer to his family in Tampa. Karan leaped at the opportunity to be nearer Susanna, so they could raise their babies together.
Charles had connections. All he’d had to do was mention relocating and the prestigious Carolinas Medical Research Center offered him a position as chief of his specialty. He and Karan were working with a real estate agent to find a house.
Chester had surprised them by decking out a golf cart complete with tin cans and streamers that read Just Married. He had another gift, too, but that one wouldn’t be ready until their return. At Jay’s request Chester had downsized the old desk in the administ
rator’s office so there would comfortably be room for two desks. Jay would stop hiding in Walter’s office, and he and Susanna would share that magnificent view of the arbors around the lake while they ran the facility together.
When they weren’t taking family vacations.
Or making family memories with all their children.
Or simply savoring their every moment together.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Road to Bayou Bridge by Liz Talley!
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CHAPTER ONE
August 2012
Naval Station, Rota, Spain
THE PAPER ACTUALLY SHOOK in Darby Dufrene’s hand—that’s how shocked he was by the document he’d discovered in a box of old papers. He’d been looking for the grief book he’d made as a small child and instead had found something that made his gut lurch against his ribs.
“Dude, come on. The driver needs to go.” Hal Severson’s voice echoed in the half-full moving truck parked below the flat Darby had shared with the rotund navy chaplain for the past several years. His roommate had waited semi-good-naturedly while Darby climbed inside to grab the book before it was shipped to Seattle, but good humor had limits.
“Just a sec,” Darby called, his eyes refusing to leave the elaborate font of the certificate he’d pulled from a clasped envelope trapped in the back of his Bayou Bridge Reveille yearbook. How in the hell had this escaped his attention? Albeit it had been buried in with some old school papers he’d tossed aside over ten years ago and vowed never to look at again, surely the state of Louisiana seal would have permeated his brain and screamed, Open me!
Yet, back then he’d been in a funk—a childish, rebellious huff of craptastic proportions. He probably hadn’t thought about much else except the pity party he’d been throwing himself.
The moving truck’s engine fired and a loud roar rumbled through the trailer, vibrating the wood floor. The driver was eager to pick up the rest of his load, presumably a navy family heading back to the States, and his patience with Darby climbing up and digging through boxes already packed was also at an end. Darby slid the certificate back into its manila envelope, tucked it into his jacket and emerged from the back end of the truck.
Hal’s red hair glinted in the sunlight spilling over the tiled roof, and his expression had evoled to exasperation. The man was hungry. Had been hungry for hours while the movers slowly packed up Darby’s personal effects and scant pieces of furniture, and no one stood between Hal and his last chance to dine in El Puerto de Santa Maria, the city near the Rota Naval Base, with his best comrade. “Let’s go already. Saucy Terese and her crustacean friends await us.”
“Not Il Caffe di Roma, Hal. I don’t want to look into that woman’s eyes and wonder if she might greet me with a filet knife.”
“You ain’t that good, brother,” Hal said in a slow Oklahoma drawl. “She’ll find someone else on which to ply her wiles when the new guy arrives.”
“You mean the new guy whose name is Angela Dillard?”
“The new JAG officer’s a girl?”
Darby smiled. “Actually she’s a woman.”
Hal jingled his keys. “Entendido.”
“Your Spanish sucks.”
“Whatever. Now get your butt in gear. There are some crabs and sherry with my name on them.”
Darby tried to ignore the heat of the document pressing against his chest. Of course, it wasn’t actually hot. Just burning a hole in his stomach with horrible dread. He was an attorney and the document he carried wasn’t a prank, but he couldn’t figure out how the license had been filed. His father had virtually screamed the implausibility at him nearly eleven years ago—the day he’d shipped Darby off to Virginia—so this didn’t make sense. “Fine, but if Terese comes toward me with a blade, you must sacrifice yourself. If not, Picou will ply the sacrificial purifications of the Chickamauga on you. She’s been waiting for five years to get me back home to Beau Soleil.”
Hal rubbed his belly. “Did they perform human sacrifices?”
“Who? The Native Americans or Picou?”
“Either.”
Darby grinned. “I don’t know about the Chickamauga, but my mom will go psycho if I don’t climb off that plane.”
“Consider it done. No way I’m left to deal with your mother. She makes mine look like that woman from Leave It to Beaver.”
“Your mom is June Cleaver all the way down to the apron and heels.” Darby knew firsthand. Her weekly chocolate chips cookies had caused him to pack on a few pounds.
“I know. All women pale in comparison.” Hal opened the door of his white convertible BMW, his one prideful sin, and slid in. He perched a pair of Ray-Bans on his nose and fired the engine.
“Except our housekeeper, Lucille. Can’t wait to get my hands on her pecan pie.” Darby took one last look at his beachfront flat before sliding onto the hot leather seats of Hal’s car. He’d already shipped his motorcycle to the States weeks ago. He wanted it available when he got to Seattle and went in search of apartments, though he knew he’d likely have to sell it in favor of a respectable sedan. With all that Northwest rain, he’d have little chance to take as many mind-clearing drives as he had along the coast of Spain. Plus, Shelby hated it.
“Well, say goodbye, dude,” Hal said, sweeping one arm over the sunbaked villa where Darby had spent the past two years, before pulling away and heading toward the motorway that would take them into the city.
“Goodbye, dude,” Darby said, parroting his friend. He smiled as the wind hit his cheeks, but as soon as he remembered the document, his smile slipped away. Trouble brewed and this homecoming would be no cakewalk despite the pecan pie that waited.
“Are you sad? Thought you’d been ready to leave Rota since you got here, Louisiana boy.”
How could Darby tell him his mood wasn’t about leaving the base and his small adventure in Spain but about the marriage license he’d found in his high school trunk? He could, but there was no sense in ruining his last night with the man who’d become like a brother to him over the course of his deployment. With Hal being the base chaplain, most would think him an odd choice of roommate for a formerly degenerate bayou boy, but something about Hal clicked as soon as Darby met the man who’d been looking for a flatmate. Having Hal as a friend, guide and trusted mentor had made the move overseas tolerable. In fact, after a few months, Darby had downright enjoyed himself.
And he’d found Shelby through Hal.
And when he met the blonde teacher who taught at the American school on base, he knew he’d finally grown up, finally left his confusion and his past behind. Here was what he’d been looking for—a beautiful woman, a promising career, if the interview went well, and a clean slate in a new place—so he’d flung the dice and shipped his things to Seattle rather than home
to Bayou Bridge.
He patted the inside pocket of his jacket.
But maybe he wouldn’t be moving forward as soon as he’d planned.
Because he was fairly certain he was legally married to Renny Latioles.
* * *
RENNY LATIOLES ADJUSTED her reading glasses and stared at the computer screen. How did L9-10 get so far away from the Black Lake Reservoir? And even more disturbing, why was the damn crane on Beau Soleil property?
“She still there?” fellow biologist Carrie Dupuy asked, mindlessly sipping the bitter coffee that had been sitting in the urn all day long. Coffee stayed brewing at the Black Lake station where they worked side by side on the reintroduction of the whooping crane into South Louisiana.
“Yeah, and I don’t get it. It’s over sixty miles from the habitat you’d think she would prefer. No other crane has gone that far to the north. There isn’t a lot of marsh in that parish even with the wetlands receding.”
“It’s been well over a week, Ren. Maybe you better head up and get a visual. Make sure she’s not tangled up in something.”
“But the bird is moving around in a fairly large perimeter. If you look at this satellite map, you can see the field it’s inhabiting.” Renny dragged a finger across the screen. “Look. Woodlands, bayou and one abandoned rice field.”
Carrie frowned at the computer. “I agree. It doesn’t make sense, but obviously L9-10 has found a little slice of heaven in St. Martin Parish. Maybe this is a good thing, this adapting and surviving in an atypical area, but we need to check this out in person, and since you live up that way...”
Renny pushed back from the screen, rolling toward the filing cabinet sitting a few yards away. She grabbed a fresh logbook.
The Time of Her Life Page 27
