Stop Me

by Brenda Novak

  “No problem. Good luck finding your sister.”

  “By the way—” Gruber caught the man’s arm. “If you happen to see her, don’t tell her I was here, okay? I’m trying to surprise her. For Christmas.”

  Croc gave him a friendly nod. “I won’t say a word.”

  * * *

  “You’re East Indian?”

  Jasmine hesitated with a bite of lamb halfway to her mouth. She hadn’t expected to be the focal point of the Forniers’ dinner conversation. She was just tagging along with Romain until she could get back to New Orleans, where she hoped to promptly forget him. But, from their behavior, Romain’s family hadn’t seen him with a woman in a very long time, and they were more than a little curious about her.

  “My mother’s East Indian,” she explained to Susan, who’d asked the question. “She came from India about five years before I was born. My father was raised in Ohio.”

  “You have beautiful skin,” Alicia said.

  “And eyes,” Susan’s husband, Tom, added. “They’re so unusual.”

  Because he’d said next to nothing so far, and that comment had been made with far too much enthusiasm, all heads turned in his direction.

  Rather soft but handsome in a slender “polished professional” kind of way, he spread out his hands. “What? She does!”

  “Thank you,” Jasmine said and tried not to notice the tightening of Susan’s jaw.

  “It’s interesting that your parents come from such different backgrounds.” It was Romain, Sr. who filled the awkward silence. “Where do they live now?”

  “They’re divorced. My mother lives in Ohio, where I was born. My father moved to Mobile a few years ago.”

  “Alabama?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Mobile’s not too far from Portsville,” Susan said. “Do you get to see him very often?”

  No doubt Romain’s sister was wondering why Jasmine was sitting at their dinner table instead of her own father’s. “Not really. Not since he remarried. And I don’t live in Portsville. I’m from Sacramento.”

  Tom’s fork clinked against his plate as he put it down. “Sacramento’s clear across the country. How’d you meet Romain?”

  “We know it wasn’t in Sacramento,” Susan said under her breath. “My dear brother would’ve had to leave the bayou for that.”

  Romain’s eyes narrowed as he chewed, but he didn’t respond. His mother seemed relieved that he let the barb go, but Jasmine wished he’d say something to steer the conversation away from her. If she told them about her missing sister or her work at The Last Stand, it’d invariably bring up what’d happened to Adele, which wasn’t a subject anyone would enjoy discussing, especially at Christmas dinner.

  No one had recognized her from America’s Most Wanted, so she decided to make up a reason for her and Romain to have crossed paths. She hated to lie, but she also didn’t feel her personal details really mattered. After today, she’d never see these people again. “A mutual friend introduced us.”

  She felt Romain’s attention settle on her and wondered if he was surprised, but by the time she glanced at him his focus had already shifted to his brother-in-law, who was drinking far more than he ate.

  “Who?” Tom asked.

  “Poppo,” she said, recalling the bogus name she’d given the old Cajun at the hotel.

  “I know a lot of people in Portsville,” Susan said. “We had cousins down there when we were growing up and spent at least a month of every summer on the bayou. But I don’t recall a Poppo.” Frowning, she focused on Romain. “Do I know him?”

  “I’m pretty sure you don’t,” Romain said. Fortunately, he didn’t say that he didn’t know him, either.

  “So you crossed four states just to visit Romain?” Tom asked.

  “I was already here on vacation when I met Poppo, and he said I could—” she searched for a credible link “—buy some fresh shrimp from Romain.”

  “Are you vacationing alone?” Susan asked.

  Jasmine turned the stem of her wineglass because it gave her something to do with her hands. “My best friend was planning to come with me, but she recently got married and backed out of the trip.”

  Tom didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. “What made you choose Cajun country for a Christmas vacation?”

  “I’ve heard a lot about it.”

  “Have you ever been here before?” Obviously, he thought she was crazy.

  “No.”

  “And you have no family in the immediate area.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Just because you’ve never liked it down here doesn’t mean other people don’t,” Susan muttered.

  “I love coming to Mamère’s and Papère’s!” Travis announced. When he tried to fling a pea across the table at his younger brother, his grandfather took away his spoon.

  “I realize that some people find this place sort of quaint and charming, but it isn’t Hawaii,” Tom retorted. “I’m amazed that someone from California, who doesn’t have family in the area, would plan a trip to Portsville at Christmas. It’s equally incredible she’d hook up with my brother-in-law, who’s become such a recluse he barely even socializes with his own family anymore.” He lifted his glass as he looked around the table. “Am I the only one who finds that strange?”

  The expression on Romain’s face suggested he was about to tell Tom to mind his own business. Tom was getting tipsy and starting to act brash. But Alicia reached over to squeeze Romain’s hand, obviously begging his forbearance, and he managed to reel in his temper.

  “No stranger than my brother going to prison in the first place,” Susan said, unable to resist pushing Romain a little further.

  “Who went to prison?” Travis asked, suddenly tuning in.

  “No one you know.” Alicia’s pointed smile told Susan and Tom to shut up. Susan seemed cowed because her oldest son had picked up on her words so quickly, but Tom had drunk too much to worry about subtleties.

  “No one on my side of the family,” he said.

  “Your family has their share of secrets,” Susan responded.

  Romain raised his glass to Jasmine. “Isn’t this a pleasant family meal?”

  Jasmine smiled helplessly because she didn’t know how to answer. It’d be too obvious a lie to agree. It was all Romain and Susan could do not to wind up in a shouting match; Alicia was constantly running interference by warning this person or that person with a touch or a glance; Romain, Sr. was obviously concerned with helping his wife for the sake of “company;” and Romain clearly wanted to punch Tom in the face. Besides the children, Tom seemed like the only person really enjoying himself. Of course, he’d had enough alcohol to find almost anything enjoyable, but at least someone was smiling.

  “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” she said and clinked her glass against Romain’s.

  His mouth twisted into a wry grin, then he downed his wine and went back to his meal.

  Tom watched this interplay over the rim of his own wineglass. “It’s good to see you with a woman again, Romain.”

  “Thank you, Tom,” Romain said. “And I know she’s pretty.” He winked. “No need to mention it again.”

  “She is pretty,” he agreed. “Not like Pam at all, though.”

  Susan didn’t say anything, but Alicia cleared her throat and murmured Tom’s name in a warning tone.

  “What? I can’t talk about Pam? I knew her, too. She was my sister-in-law,” he said, but then he waved toward Jasmine and changed the subject as if he wanted to avoid any further conflict. “So what did you do? Pick a random spot on the map and say ‘I want to go there’?” Another thought seemed to occur to him. “Or…maybe you needed to get away. Are you running from a bad breakup or an abusive husband?”

  Jasmine choked down the bread she’d just bitten off. “No. I’d heard a lot about the beauty of the bayous and decided to see them for myself.”

  “And what do you think?” It was Romain, Sr. He had a firm grip o
n his knife and fork as if tempted to use them for more than cutting meat, but his voice remained as calm as ever.

  “I like it here.” And that was the truth, a truth largely inspired by those few moments when she’d first opened her eyes this morning and found Romain’s large, warm body wrapped around hers. She knew she’d never forget the pale winter sunlight as it streamed through his window, or the chorus of rain outside. “But the thought of alligators makes me a little nervous,” she admitted.

  Romain, Sr. spoke up. “Alligators won’t hurt you. They’re generally not aggressive.”

  “That’s what people keep telling me, but it’d only take one bite to ruin my day,” she said with a laugh.

  Susan broke out of the morose silence into which she’d fallen. “How’d your parents meet, Jasmine?”

  Jasmine didn’t want to talk about her parents any more than her reason for coming to Louisiana, but it seemed the safest alternative at the moment. At least she wouldn’t have to lie. “They went to college together.”

  “You said your mother was an immigrant?”

  “She came from India with her parents when she was fifteen. But her parents returned shortly after I was born so I don’t know them all that well.”

  “She’s Hindu?” Tom asked.

  “Yes. Nearly eighty percent of India is Hindu.”

  “But only a small number of people in America are,” Susan said. “Was your father religious?”

  “Actually, he was. I don’t think he is anymore, though.”

  “Hindu?”

  “Christian.”

  Tom poured himself more wine, after which Romain, Sr. not so subtly moved the bottle away from him. “What does that make you?”

  Following Kimberly’s disappearance, Jasmine had gone through a period of confusion. Her mother was adamant that she’d lose her salvation if she didn’t embrace Hinduism, and her father was equally adamant that she’d go to hell if she didn’t remain a Christian. She was hoping there was some place reserved for people like her, who felt torn and couldn’t decide if one way was any better than the other. “I guess my beliefs are sort of a blending of the two.”

  “So Christmas doesn’t have much meaning for you.” Tom probably felt as if he’d solved the riddle of her presence at their table. It was merely another day, another meal.

  But that wasn’t true at all. As much as she might deny it, Christmas meant a great deal to Jasmine. It always had. But she’d learned to downplay the family aspect so she wouldn’t be disappointed when her holiday experience was so different from everyone else’s.

  She searched for a way to explain without making herself seem pathetic but couldn’t find the words. More than she ever had before, she missed the unity her family had once known. It was a poignant ache in her chest. Prior to Kimberly’s disappearance, she’d been on solid ground emotionally, but had struggled to regain her footing ever since. The abduction had robbed her of a sister she loved and split her family apart more ruthlessly than a hatchet.

  The tears that sprang to her eyes came suddenly. She didn’t want to be here with these strangers. She wanted to have Christmas dinner with her family. But that family was dead and gone. That family would never be the same, could never be the same, even on Christmas.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got…something in my eye.” She left the table, walking calmly until she cleared the doorway. Then, when they could no longer see her, she fled to the bathroom, locked herself in and sagged against the door.

  CHAPTER 14

  The knock came far sooner than Jasmine expected. She’d thought the Forniers might give her a few minutes to herself. No such luck. They probably wanted to quiz her on what had caused her parents’ divorce or if and when she and Romain had made love. They couldn’t simply mind their business and leave her alone, could they? That was too much to ask.

  She ignored the first knock. But another came right after it.

  “Jasmine?”

  It was Romain. She was tempted to tell him to go away. She needed to pull herself together and paste another smile on her face. But she was even more tempted to tell him off for bringing her here. With that thought in mind, she wiped her tears, unlocked the door and let him in.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  “You have a screwed-up family,” she said.

  He studied her for a moment. “I’m not going to disagree. But…are you sure this is about my family?”

  She wanted to avoid that—it was too much of a direct hit. “Why didn’t you stop them?” she whispered harshly.

  “From what?”

  “From drilling me!”

  “Those are the types of questions people ask every day, Jasmine. ‘Where are you from? What do you do? What do your parents do?’ It’s called getting to know someone.”

  “They don’t need to know me!”

  “I wanted to hear what you had to say as much as they did. Is that so terrible?”

  “You wanted to hear me lie about my reason for being here?”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “Not that. The other stuff.”

  “What’s the point?”

  He stared at her without answering.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  “I know you practically purr when I hum in your ear, that you have a different smile when I tell you how beautiful you are—one that says you like hearing it but can’t quite believe it. I know you would’ve enjoyed that motorcycle ride if you weren’t so busy trying not to enjoy it. And I’ll never forget the heavy-lidded look you get right before you—”

  “Stop.” She raised a hand. Her heart was already racing. “You don’t know anything about me, Romain. Not really.”

  “Exactly. I know things about you almost no one else does. And yet I don’t know why you left your husband, or why you don’t want to see your father, or why talking about Christmas makes you cry.”

  “Because those aren’t the kinds of subjects discussed in a superficial relationship!”

  He took her hands and stroked her knuckles. “I already told you I’m sorry about what I said this morning.”

  Although she could tell he wasn’t accustomed to offering apologies, he seemed so sincere it was hard not to forgive him. But that was the problem with people like Romain. Sometimes they were moody, even hurtful; other times they were too charming to resist.

  Besides, she couldn’t forgive him or she’d get involved with him again. “As far as I’m concerned, we can be friends. I’m not holding a grudge,” she lied.

  “Maybe you could say that like you mean it.” The boyish smile he gave her begged her to do just that—and nearly destroyed her determination.

  “I thought last night was incredible, okay? I’ve never experienced anything like it. The way I wanted you. The way you touched me—”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said and she couldn’t help laughing.

  “I’m not finished. I liked what happened, but it scared the hell out of you, made you want to shut me out. Fine. No problem. I’m willing to let it go. I didn’t come to Louisiana to get involved with you or anyone else. Just tell me, considering all that, why I’m at your parents’ house for dinner!”

  He caught her chin, tilting her head so she had to meet his eyes. “You’re here because I knew I’d never see you again if I let you go.”

  She blinked, stunned by the admission. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  “No.”

  “But, in a way, you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you,” he said.

  “You don’t like me, either.”

  “I don’t like anyone right now, even myself.” He ran a thumb over her lower lip, and every nerve in her body began to tingle, to crave his touch. “But I want you,” he said, his voice dropping to barely above hoarse. “No confusion about that.”

  When he kissed her, she told herself to pull away, to end it immediately, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. She kept telling herself,
“One more second…only one more second,” until her arms were around his neck and they were plastered together, kissing as passionately as if they hadn’t made love twice already.

  “T-Bone?”

  It was his mother’s voice that finally broke them apart. Fortunately, Alicia was calling him from down the hall, not right outside the door.

  “Just for the record, I don’t like you, either,” Jasmine whispered, breathing heavily. She could’ve clarified that she didn’t like his effect on her, but she was more comfortable leaving the statement as it stood.

  “I’d still take you right here in my parents’ bathroom if I thought I could get away with it,” he said and walked out.

  * * *

  Jasmine spent the rest of the meal, and the cleanup that followed, trying to avoid any contact with Romain. Conversing with Tom and Susan wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but Jasmine really liked Alicia and Romain, Sr., and Susan’s kids were adorable. They gave her something to focus on, something that didn’t cause a tidal wave of inexplicable emotion—with raw desire at one end and fear of making a life-changing mistake at the other. She hoped Romain’s family hadn’t noticed the tension between them, but she knew Susan, at least, was watching them too closely to miss it.

  After the dishes were done, Jasmine decided to make a few phone calls before dessert. Although she rarely spent Christmas with either of her parents, she felt obligated to wish them a merry Christmas. And Skye and Sheridan would be wondering why they hadn’t heard from her.

  “Is there a phone I could use to make a few long-distance calls?” she asked Alicia as she hung up the dish towel she’d been using to dry the dinner plates. “Someone stole my purse yesterday, so I can’t cover the charges up front, but I promise I’ll send you a check before the bill arrives.”

  Alicia slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m not worried about the bill, honey. I’ll show you to my husband’s den, where you’ll have more privacy.”

  Romain was watching a football game with his father. Jasmine stuck her head in the room and explained that she’d be on the phone, then followed his mother down the hall.