by Aspen Drake
“Ready?” He twirls me around. I can’t help but giggle as he watches my dress dance around my legs.
“Ready.” I smile and offer a quick nod.
We step outside, and walk straight into the cool breeze. I’m suddenly very glad I decided on the light sweater. It’s around seven o’clock as we make our way down the small street and turn onto Bourbon. The popular street is already buzzing with partiers.
A tingle of excitement flows through me as the atmosphere of the French Quarter continues to seep into my soul. It’s obvious why Noah loves this city so much.
The sounds of jazz music flood my ears as we step off the sidewalk and into the middle of the street. Neon lights flash all around us. The reds, yellows, blues, and greens invite us to partake in an array of drinks and food designed to ensure a wonderful evening. From the doorways of the clubs we pass, ladies dressed in skimpy burlesque-type outfits try to catch our attention, attempting to get us into their clubs. Other doorways display buff men who are working security for the bars. They call out and invite us to check out their live entertainment.
I place my right hand through the crook of Max’s elbow. He draws me to him, bending his elbow to capture my hand while he places his free hand on top of mine and rubs it gently.
The guys up on the balconies of the various clubs and hotels that line the street are hilarious. Their catcalls to some of the scantily clad women walking the street are almost lost among the loud music playing all around us.
A few of the women acquiesce to the calls of “take it off,” lifting their shirts and exposing their breasts for the strangers. The guys whoop and whistle before rewarding the drunken girl with a strands of plastic beads.
“You best not be watching,” I whisper into Max’s ear as we pass a crowd that’s formed around one of the girls.
Max turns and gives me a wink. “As long as you’re not watching either.”
It takes me a few moments to realize what he means. Up ahead, a very muscular and toned young guy is stripping out of his shirt for a small group of women. They whoop and holler just as loud as the guys from and start running their hands up and down his torso as he gyrates his pelvis in stripper fashion to get the full neck of beads he’s now wearing.
“The only person I want to see doing that is you,” I say with a chuckle as I nuzzle in closer to him.
Max leans in and kisses the top of my head as we continue down Bourbon. “Maybe I need to stop in one of the shops and get some beads for later then.” His grin is wide as his eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Maybe.” I peek at him from under my lashes. “But I bet I can get you to do it for me without the bribery.”
He laughs, a hearty growl rumbling from his chest. “I bet you can.” After a few seconds, Max points to an intersection. “I think we turn here.”
A small shop on the corner claims it has the best New Orleans pralines in town. Through the windows lining the front wall, various trinkets and souvenirs call out to passersby. The typical toys to help remind people of their trip to the Crescent City.
A few storefronts past the praline shop, we come upon a small restaurant nestled into the street corner. The windows lining the place are made of large wooden shutters that have been opened to allow the night air to flow through the dining room. As we pass and make our way to the front entrance, the sounds of silverware and chatter are barely heard over the live band playing in the back corner.
We duck into the restaurant and wait at the entrance to be seated. A young girl with her blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail greets us and takes us to a table for two. It’s located in the center of the dining room. A long bar spans the back of the restaurant and glass shelves line a long mirror behind it, providing easy access to the various liquors they offer.
Cattycorner to the bar, the band is set up on a small, one foot high stage. The trio playing the melodious tune is made up of a keyboardist and two guitar players, each with a microphone near them to sing into.
“This place is wonderful.” I look over to Max.
“I definitely see the appeal for Noah.” He nods and continues to scan the room. “I just pray he comes in tonight.” Max looks over the diners revolving around us. Neither of us see Noah sitting amongst them. When the waiter comes to take our drink order, Max orders a Thai iced tea, and I ask for a glass of white wine.
The band starts an upbeat song as the waiter returns with our drinks and takes our food order. As if in honor of Noah, we both order the chef’s special without having glanced at the other menu items.
For a few moments, we sit in silence. We’re focused on scanning the room and watching the entrance for any sign of Noah. When the band begins to play a soft ballad, Max extends his hand.
“May I?” he asks.
Placing my hand in his, I smile. “Of course.”
He sweeps me up from my chair and places his hand behind my back, pulling me to him. We sway with the music next to our table as it lulls us with its melody. As soon as the tune finishes, everyone in the restaurant applauds the band. When they announce a fifteen-minute break, Max gives me a quick peck and guides me back to my seat.
The waiter delivers our food and we’re just starting to dig in when my eye catches the thick outline of a guy walking into the restaurant. His dark hair and chocolate eyes are exactly the way I remember them.
It’s Noah.
“Max, he’s here.”
Max is careful not to turn around abruptly. We don’t want to scare him away and have to look for him all over again. “Tell me when he’s seated and try not to let him see you.”
From under a curtain of my hair, I watch the hostess guide Noah to a small table near one of the open windows. Once he’s seated, my gaze shifts to Max and I nod once.
Max turns toward the spot where I’m looking. I know when he’s spotted him because a sigh of relief emits from his chest instinctively. Pushing his chair back slightly, Max’s slim frame rises from his chair. The muscles in his chin tighten as the determination in his brow increases. He’s not going to let Noah get away.
Moving slowly across the restaurant, Max approaches Noah. When he reaches him, Noah looks up, apparently expecting to see a waiter. His look of shock quickly gives way to anger as his features become hardened.
I can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, but their discussion looks heated.
Unable to wait any longer, I walk toward them.
“Why are you here?” Noah is trying to keep his voice controlled but I can hear the shock and concern.
“Because you’re being an ass. We came to find you―to bring you home.”
“You shouldn’t have―” Before Noah can finish his statement, he notices me approaching. His mouth shuts and his eyes become misty at the sight of both Max and me standing in front of him.
“Noah…” Tears begin to fill my eyes. “God, I’ve missed you so much.” I walk closer and he stands up, wrapping his arms around me in a huge bear hug.
“Carly.” There’s a catch in his throat that makes him sound as though he’s crying. Max joins the circular hug and pulls both of us tightly to him.
“How did you… Why…” Noah’s confusion is apparent as he pulls back and looks between us.
“Noah.” I hold his hand against my chest. “You shouldn’t have run away from us.”
He looks down sheepishly, a frown turning the corners of his mouth. “Carly, I know that with the two of us, you can’t have the marriage you want…or dream of.”
My eyelids lower as my gaze softens. “Oh, Noah. I’m so sorry you heard me say those things. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“Maybe not, but it’s definitely something you think about.” Noah looks at me pointedly. “You and Max can have that. I want you both to be happy.”
“Well, what you did was shitty, Noah. All you’ve done is make us miserable.”
Noah’s eyes pop upward, dancing between the two of us. “Really?”
“Of course, silly.�
� I step against his chest and rest my forehead on his shoulder. “We love you. Things aren’t the same without you.”
“But what about your dream wedding…”
“A wedding is a one-day affair, Noah.” I glance quickly over to Max and then back to him. “What I want is a lifetime, and I want that with you and Max.”
“That’s what I want too,” Max concurs. “The two of you help make my life complete. I don’t want to lose either of you.”
I’ve never seen Noah emotional before. His usual tough exterior fades away as he realizes the truth of what we’re saying. A single tear escapes his lid and falls down his tanned face.
“I love you guys too.” He smiles at the two of us. “I just wanted you both to have the life you deserve.”
“Well, then, you’ll need to come home because it’s the only way that can happen.” Max grabs his step-brother by the other shoulder and pulls him into another hug.
When we finally pull apart, I glance around the room and realize no one is paying any attention to us. The world has changed some, at least in New Orleans it has. Our relationship, whatever people may think it is, doesn’t seem to bother anyone. Maybe this will work out better than I originally thought.
Max flags down the waiter, who walks over to us.
“Yes, sir,” he says, observing the three of us.
“We need to add a seat to our table.”
“Right away, sir. Give me just a moment.”
With that, the waiter heads to our table and moves us to a nice four-top. I know our dishes have gone cold by now, but Max surprises me when we walk over to our new seats. “Please have the chef make three new specials for us. We’ll pay for fresh dishes.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get the orders in now.”
Max, Noah, and I sit down, each man flanking a side of me. I can finally relax for the first time in weeks. The weight on my chest is gone and I can finally pull in a full breath of air.
Noah looks at me and then at Max. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I made you both worry about me and for…” Noah sighs.
Max’s deep voice picks up the conversation. “Nothing more to worry about or be sorry for. I’m just glad we found you.”
I reach out to the men next to me and I clasp their hands in mine. Looking at Noah, I stare right into his eyes. “You’re never to leave us again. Do you understand?”
Noah holds my gaze. My more dominant side is taking over and running away with my words before I realize what I’m saying. His hand grips mine tightly as he glances at Max and then back to me. His face brightens in a broad grin as a fire builds behind his lids.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says in a raspy tone filled with desire. My body tingles at the sound of his lust and my panties become instantly wet under his gaze. Dinner needs to hurry, because I’m ready to get my men back to the room.
Chapter Five
Beth
Amy looks at me pointedly. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? We should just cancel this weekend.”
I roll my eyes before sighing. “Yes, sis. Isla and I will be fine. Go. Have fun a fun vacation with your husband and son. I’m just so grateful you’re both letting me stay here. I don’t want to ruin your plans with my drama.”
“You’re not ruining our plans. I’m just worried about you. I know the nightmares haven’t stopped.” Amy gives me a look of sadness as she uncrosses her arms from over her chest. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. Besides, Mason gave me his number. So if I have problems opening a jar of pickles, I’ll give him a ring.”
Amy visibly brightens at my mention of Mason. “Oh, really? Are you going to buy a jar of pickles just to have him over?” She laughs and my face pinks.
“No… Well… You know what I mean.”
She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Oh yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”
“Ugh! You’re impossible.” I shake my head and laugh.
“Beth and Mason, sitting in a tree―”
I grab one of the throw pillows on the sofa and throw it at her before she can finish her stupid song. She stops it before it hits her face and laughs into the fabric. “You know I’m just picking on you. I like Mason. He’s a good guy. You could do worse.”
“Well, we both know that’s true.” I know we’re both thinking about JR and all the hell he’s put me through. If only I had just grabbed Isla and run away that day he called for the first time. I could have avoided this situation all together. Why did I let him scare me? “I’m surprised he hasn’t run for the hills after I told him everything about JR.”
“I told you. He’s a good guy. I figured he would freak out more than he did when Carly introduced him to Max and Noah, but he handled that just fine. I don’t think you could freak him out any more than his sister being in a polyamorous relationship.”
“Maybe, but I’m not going to try. Ugh! Carly is so lucky,” I say with a pout. “She found two great guys, and here I am―”
“With one,” Amy interrupts. “I think Mason’s liked you for a while. Give him a chance. See where things go and have a little fun.”
I let my mind wander to Mason and the way he looked at me that day we met. It was as if I was the only woman in the world and the memory takes my breath away.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Let’s go save Nate from the kids. He’s probably exhausted by now.”
We make our way to the backyard where Nate is playing with the kids. From the back patio door, I can see Isla giggling as Nate pushes her higher on the swing.
“She just loves that thing.” I smile fondly, gazing out at them.
Amy gives a light chuckle. “Why do you think we had it installed? When Natey saw one at a friend’s house, he wouldn’t let us leave. Nate had to promise to buy him one just to get him to come home. He had it set up the next day.”
“Nate’s a good guy too, you know.”
“I know.” She agrees with me, placing her hand over her baby bump. “And he’s a great father.”
Nate looks up and notices us, giving us a wink as he continues to push the kids on the hanging seats.
“So we’ll leave early in the morning and be back Sunday evening.” Amy turns my way, a look of wariness spreading across her brow.
“We’ll be perfectly fine. Enjoy your weekend getaway. You deserve it. Don’t worry about anything here. We’ll take care of the place while you’re away.”
“Okay.” She pulls me into a hug. “I love you, sis.”
Wrapping my arms tightly around her back, I nod into her neck. “I love you too, honey.”
~**~
With Nate, Amy, and little Nate gone, the house feels exceptionally quiet. I’m glad their taking this little camping trip for the weekend but Amy didn’t seem too thrilled to be heading to a cabin in her condition. But, she’s a trooper and knew how important it was to Nate to take his son on an outdoor adventure. They asked me and Isla to join them, but they need some quality family time together. That has been more difficult to get since we’ve been here.
Isla comes running into the kitchen just as I start to wonder what she’s up to. “Mommy, what’s dinner?” she asks in toddler speak.
“Do you mean, what are we having for dinner?”
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
I bend down and pat her stomach. “What sounds good?” I raise an eyebrow then give her a tickle.
She laughs and backs away quickly before jumping into my arms. She throws her hands around my neck and gives me a wet kiss on the check. With her settled on my hip, we walk over to the fridge and open the door.
“Jelly!” Isla exclaims, pointing toward the door. “And butter.”
“Peanut butter and jelly it is.” I placing her on the ground and grab the jar of grape jam from the side shelf. She runs to the counter and out pulls the loaf of bread. I grab two plates, a knife, and the jar of peanut butter from the pantry.
“Wash your hands.”
Isla runs over to the small stepstool Amy set
up for Natey at the kitchen sink and washes her hands the way I taught her. The melody of the happy birthday song fills the kitchen as she rubs her hands, lathering up the soap.
“Mommy,” she says when she stops singing. “The soap has lots of birthdays.”
I stifle a laugh. “The soap doesn’t have a birthday, baby. You just sing the song so you know how long to wash your hands.”
“Doesn’t the soap get sad it doesn’t have a birthday?” Isla’s little eyes are filled with worry.
“I don’t think so, but you can keep singing it, just in case.”
Her eyes light up and sparkle. “Okay, Mommy. I’ll make sure the soap doesn’t get sad,” she says, bobbing her head up and down.
I make us each a sandwich and put the plates on the breakfast nook. Isla takes a seat and I put a glass of milk in front of her plate then grab a bottle of water for myself.
While we eat, Isla recounts scenes from an episode of a cartoon she watched this morning. She laughs at every other sentence as if the antics of the cartoon characters are the funniest thing she’s ever watched.
Once our simple dinner is finished and she has fully recapped the entire episode, we move to the living area and lay back on the couch. Isla grabs a book from the tiny shelf set up in the corner of the room and sits down next to me.
We begin reading stories of a cat and his hat and before long, Isla is asleep on my lap. I adjust her carefully so I can lie down next to her. My eyes close soon after I settle beside my sleeping angel and we both take a nap.
The dream comes swiftly.
JR is back, knocking me around the room, asking about Isla. My head spins as I try to keep him from taking my baby. I’m trying to move down the hallway, watching him walking with her toward the front door. The car backs out of the drive as the diesel barrels down the street…
My eyes open in shock as I’m jolted from the dream. Isla isn’t next to me when I awake so I panic and sit up quickly. It’s darker in the room, indicating the sun has set during our nap. Turning my head in every direction, I spot her by the bookshelf and a small basket of toys.
