Southern Secrets

by Shelley Stringer

  I flipped the light off in the bathroom, and then opened the door. Banton stood with his back to me, with one knee propped in the window seat as he gazed out the open window into the night. All he had on were his boxer-briefs, which clung tightly to the muscles in his buttocks. He shifted his weight, the muscles rippling across his shoulders as he reached out to close the window. The cold breeze blew across the room, and I shivered, wishing I’d put more clothing on.

  The sound of my shiver made him turn. His eyes took in every inch of me, and whatever had his eyes drawn into a frown precipitously disappeared. In place of the frown came a look of awe.

  “My God, Chandler…You look really…” His voice drifted off. He moved slowly across the room to where I stood, waiting.

  “Really, what?” I asked, his face hovered right over mine.

  “Really sexy. Gorgeous. Stunning,” he murmured as he placed his hand behind me on the small of my back drawing me in to his chest. “You make me forget what I wanted to say.” His lips covered mine, parting them softly, his tongue exploring inside. I shivered as I placed my arms around his neck.

  “Are you cold?” he whispered against my throat. I just nodded. He picked me up, and swung me around to the bed. Flipping the comforter back, he deposited me in the middle and drew the covers back over me.

  “Aren’t you…aren’t you going to get in with me?” I asked. He shook his head.

  “Not till you tell me what you’re holding back. And you play dirty, by the way,” he grinned slightly at me as he traced his finger around my bottom lip.

  “I…I can’t,” I stammered. “It’s no use, I can’t lie to you.” I looked down at my hands.

  “Sweetheart, no secrets between us, remember?” He placed his finger under my chin.

  “Will you,” I raised my eyes up to look into his. “Will you trust me? Please believe I would tell you everything, if I could. But this…I’ve made a promise not to say anything, and I have to keep that promise.”

  “Who did you make a promise to, Chandler?” he asked softly.

  “Everett and Mr. Philippe. I promised not to say anything, to you, or to anyone. I have to keep it, Banton. I can’t betray their confidence. Besides, don’t you trust me?”

  He paused several seconds, studying his hands, and then looked back up at me. “Of course I trust you. I’m just worried about you. I’m worried about your safety. I don’t want you leaving the house without me.”

  “Everett would never put me in danger,” I answered back, a little upset he was still pressing the issue.

  He rose, and then paced across the room. “I just don’t understand why both of you are being so evasive with me, and what it is you both think you can’t trust me with. Don’t you trust me to tell me what you know?” he asked, studying me.

  “You know that’s not it. I just…the timing is all off. I have to wait, but I will tell you in time, I promise,” I finally stated. I looked determinedly at him. As confident as I wanted to appear, my eyes glistened with tears. This was the closest to a real argument we’d had since we’d gotten married.

  His gaze softened. Walking back over to the bed, he sat down on the edge.

  “Just tell me something. Are you in any kind of danger with whatever this is he’s involving you in?” he asked, touching a purple bruise on my forearm. Glancing down, I realized it was a new bruise…a result of Patrick grabbing my arm and pulling me out of Brie’s way.

  I glanced back up at him.

  “No more than usual,” I answered, grinning lopsidedly at him.

  “Not comforting, Chandler. All right, keep your little secret. Will you please just promise me you will be careful? Remember, you carry around my entire life with you…my beautiful wife and two precious babies. You’re everything to me, and you hold it all in your hands,” he whispered.

  “I promise, I will be careful. It might not seem so, but you and the babies--you come first, in my world,” I whispered. I leaned over and kissed him, pulling him down on the bed with me.

  He seemed to drop the subject as he settled in under the covers, but there was still more silence than usual between us.

  “Chandler?” he murmured against my hair.

  “Mmm?” I answered, almost asleep

  “What was the story Patrick and Olivia told that upset you?” he asked as he played with my hair.

  “I’m sure Everett will fill you in on everything, but when Olivia overheard Mr. Jackson comment about my being pregnant with twins, she became upset.”

  “Why?” he asked, pushing up on one elbow to look down at me. I turned over and gazed up at him.

  “She didn’t know we’re having twins. Either Sam didn’t know, or hadn’t told her. She said the fact I’m carrying twins will make Dante want us even more.”

  “Who? Who’s Dante?” he demanded.

  “Her stepfather. When I asked her to describe him, she said he was tall, taller than Sam, and had a deep, commanding voice.”

  “He was the leader of the group who kidnapped you.”

  “Yes, I believe he was.”

  “What can she tell us about him?” he asked.

  He flipped on the lamp on the nightstand.

  “It’s not good, Banton,” I replied softly.

  “Tell me,” he urged, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  “He’s obsessed with Sange-Mele. Olivia said he is especially obsessed with faders. That’s what she called me and Constance. It’s why he wanted Olivia and Patrick’s mother. When he found out she couldn’t have any more children, he murdered her. He forced Olivia and her brothers to stay with them. Patrick said he’s obsessed with twins, especially looking for Sange-Mele twins. Then he told us a story,” my voice began to choke on the words. I couldn’t bring myself to repeat it.

  “What story?”

  “About what their stepfather did…to twin babies and their mother. He used the babies as a human sacrifice,” I sobbed, the awful picture forming in my mind.

  “Shhh. I’ll get Everett to fill me in. I don’t want you to think about it anymore. This isn’t good for you, sweetheart.” His eyes burned with fury in the moonlight as he realized the true nature of the leader of the Somali Orcos.

  “He’s not going to get close to you or the twins. Everett and the SEALs won’t let him get near us. And he’ll have to come through me next time,” he swore. He gazed down into my eyes.

  “Everett said it was time to involve those in power with the Aldon. He said it was time to deal with the Somali Orcos at the source.”

  “Yes, I need to talk to Everett. The SEALs are going to finish this, soon. We are just waiting on the word from command.” He stroked my cheek as he spoke.

  “You’re going away again aren’t you?” I asked, searching his eyes.

  “Yeah, Baby, we are, although I don’t think we will until summer. Don’t worry about it right now, anything could happen between now and then.” He pulled me down under the covers and into the protective surround of his arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Another week passed, and I lay sleeping in our room, secure in a pleasant dream about the babies.

  Hush, little baby…don’t say a word…mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that Mockingbird don’t sing…

  I rocked back and forth, in the early morning light, a baby snuggled down in the crook of my arm. Banton’s warm breath rushed across my bare shoulder as he leaned over to place a kiss there. He held our other twin in his arms. A loud “Bang…Pop…Bang!” broke into the reverence of the moment.

  I sat up in bed abruptly.

  “Sweetheart, are you all right?” Banton asked from across the room. He’d already risen, and was dressing beside his chest of drawers across the room. “Did you have another bad dream?” He crossed the room to stand next to the bed.

  “No, actually, it was a great dream. The babies were finally here, and we were having a private, sweet moment, rocking them in the nursery,”

  “Bang…Pop!”
<
br />   “Until that woke me! What’s going on?” I asked, throwing the covers back to go to the window.

  “I’m guessing it’s John. We’re starting a project today.”

  “What project?” I asked as I retrieved my robe from the foot of the bed.

  “Just a little surprise. Give me a few minutes, and you get dressed. I’ll come back up and get you.” He leaned over and kissed me, and then bounded from the room and down the staircase.

  What the heck? I wondered what the two of them were up to this early. I glanced over at the alarm clock on the nightstand flashing six-thirty am.

  After I’d splashed water on my face and brushed my hair out and fastened it with a clip on my head, I donned the only pair of maternity jeans I owned and an old T-shirt, and then made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, it was the first day of spring break, and since we had a reprieve from classes, Constance and Ty were dead asleep tucked away upstairs. I hurriedly made my way to the coffee maker for my first morning cup – coffee was the one vice I couldn’t seem to give up for the pregnancy. The babies would just have to be born addicted to caffeine.

  I turned as the back door opened.

  “Good morning, Bebe! How is my girl?” Everett chirped. He placed a kiss on my cheek.

  “Great, except I’m up about two hours earlier than I’d planned on my first day off from classes. Is someone going to tell me what all the commotion is in the back yard?” I demanded as Banton reappeared.

  “I think you’ll agree the loss of sleep will be worth it. Come and see what we’ve started for you!” His eyes sparkled with the surprise he was obviously about to spring on me. Grasping my hand, he pulled me out the backdoor and down the steps to cross the courtyard between the house and the greenhouse. As we neared the greenhouse door, Everett fairly skipped beside us.

  “You two are comical, you know that?” I giggled. When Banton pushed the door open, I grinned up at him.

  The entire inside of the greenhouse had been cleared, and John was installing new bead board paneling beneath the windows around the outside walls of the structure. New flagstones were piled at the back to place on the floor, and new windows were propped around the outside, obviously awaiting their turn to be installed.

  “Most of the work is cosmetic; the structure is more than sound. The outside walls are three layers of brick, layered crossways as is the structure to the house. Most of these old houses were built that way. This place isn’t going anywhere; it was built to stand the test of time!” John beamed, running his hand across a thick windowsill. You would think he was describing a beautiful woman, the way he gloated over the workmanship of the old structure.

  Banton leaned over to me and whispered, “And don’t worry, I’ve already had the tunnel below sealed off, and we are going to permanently cover the opening to the cellar. I don’t want there to ever be a way to come and go from the sewers anywhere close to our property.”

  “This is great…just in time for me to start potting and planting for the spring. I can hardly wait to start planting flowers in the flowerbeds outside!” I gushed as their excitement began to rub off on me.

  “We thought we would widen the entrance, and change this door out for French doors. I have another surprise for you; they should be arriving with it any minute,” Banton grinned, hugging me.

  “What else? You’ve already planned so much,” I wondered aloud. I walked around, checking out the new windows. The glass had been custom made to look wavy and bubbled resembling vintage glass, adding to the charm of the greenhouse.

  The loud “beep…beep…beep…” of a truck backing up halted our conversation.

  “It’s here! Let’s go and see,” Banton said excitedly. He pulled me along to the driveway in front. As we rounded the oleander bushes at the side of the house, I shuddered, remembering the snakes which struck Beau last fall. I made a wide path around them as I kept my eyes peeled for the nasty creatures.

  “Here it is.” He stopped and pulled me up beside him. A platform was lowering from the back of the truck, and two men were riding the platform down with the large hot tub.

  “I thought you were just kidding…a hot tub? Banton, that’s so expensive. You’re doing so much already with the nursery and the greenhouse…” I trailed off, watching his expression change. I could tell he thought I was peeing all over his big moment, so I smiled and rose up on my toes to kiss him. He grinned back down at me.

  “I told you. I love this house as much as you do. I want to make it ‘our house.'”

  “It is our house, silly. It has been since the first night you slept in my room to keep me safe after the peeping tom incident. I’ve felt that way ever since,” I informed him.

  He grinned deeper, seemingly pleased at my revelation.

  “So where are we going to put it?” I asked as we turned back to the back yard.

  “The spa people said the concrete in front of the greenhouse is thick enough to support the hot tub, so we’ll have them install it there, just to the side of where the French doors will open up. That way we can use the front part of the greenhouse for party space, and spill over into the hot tub area and the yard. You can use the greenhouse for pool supply storage, and a fancy potting shed, or studio…whatever you want. We’ll start working on the landscaping between the greenhouse and the house, and eventually, see if we can work in a pool. Would you like that?”

  I grinned back at him. I couldn’t help it. A pool was the one luxury I’d dreamed about since I was a small girl. I nodded enthusiastically, and he hugged me as John came walking up.

  “I can finish the bead board today, and probably have most of the windows installed by week’s end. Then you can have the other contractors come in to do the kitchenette and bathroom at the back.”

  Everett had been walking around the inside of the structure, and turned to address John.

  “I can’t believe you two planned this without consulting me! Don’t you know I get approval for all creative projects?” he admonished as Banton grinned.

  “Don’t worry Fruit-loop, you’re in charge from now on. Come on, we’ll discuss the details of the entertaining area and bath. Oh, and I want you and Chandler to come down to my house this afternoon. I need you to pick paint colors. You know I’m no good at that,” John continued. He and Everett got lost in a conversation about tile and countertops.

  Banton just laughed and put his arm around me to lead me back to the house.

  “Wait a minute, Mister, don’t think I’m going to lounge around in the house while you three are having all the fun out here! I have to help…I’m jazzed about this project!” I pulled back and set my arms stubbornly across my chest.

  “I should have known. All right, you can help, but from a chair. Only light projects for you. The nursery will be delivering some shrubs…azaleas and yaupons, mulch…there will be plenty of bossing for you to do in about an hour.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Now, be a good girl and sit down right here in this lawn chair. You can begin by showing me where you want the flowerbeds around the patio area.” He picked up a shovel and rake, and turned back to me.

  As I settled in, I could tell by watching Banton this wasn’t his first time to landscape. He began by taking a small can of orange spray paint, and drawing a curvy line around the perimeter of the patio, and then around and down the side of the greenhouse.

  “You certainly are sure of yourself! Where did you learn to do this?” I asked. He paused to survey his plans.

  “College. I worked part-time for a friend of my fathers who had a landscaping business. It was just a part time job I didn’t take seriously, but now I’m glad for the experience.”

  After he had a design down for the rather large expanse of beds, he began to turn the dirt over, raking through the early spring weeds beginning to spring up under massive trees in our back yard. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to get up, take up a small rake, and push a small mound of dirt back he’d missed.

  “Just what do you think
you’re doing, young lady?” he admonished me.

  “You know I can’t just sit and watch, Banton. I have to get my hands dirty!” I exclaimed as he stopped to lean on the shovel, a huge grin on his face.

  “Why can’t you be like most of the other females I know, and just sit back and enjoy someone else doing the dirty work? Most of the girls I’ve known would love to just sit there and give orders,” he answered, continuing to turn the earth over beside the greenhouse.

  “As I’ve pointed out before, I’m not like the other females you’ve known.” I stated emphatically. He stopped, walked over to me, and placed a kiss on my forehead.

  “And I’m glad you’re not. So, what are we doing over here?” he asked, taking the rake away from me and pointing to the triangle of yard between the house and the greenhouse.

  “Just something simple, I guess. Let’s see what plants the nursery delivers first,” I answered as he continued to work away.

  As if on cue, a large truck pulled in behind the spa truck, and workers began to unload sacks of mulch, buckets of azaleas and hostas, and large sego palms.

  “Banton, these are beautiful! You must be spending a fortune,” I said. The workmen began to carry large flats full of flowers and lush ground cover.

  He finished raking the large planting bed he’d prepared, and walked back over to me.