Forever With You (Bayou Dreams Book 5)

by Farrah Rochon

  “No way?” He laughed. “You went to Madison? What year?”

  She looked at him as if he’d lost every single bit of his good sense. “As if I would tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  She just continued to stare at him with that look of half horror, half incredulousness. And just like that everything became crystal clear.

  “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think I’m too young for you.” He leaned forward in his seat and, holding her steady gaze, said, “I’m not much younger than you are, Leslie.”

  Her name slipped off his tongue so easily that Gabe didn’t have a chance to rein it back. He waited for her to protest, but she didn’t. She studied him, her eyes never leaving his face. Finally, she said, “You’re young enough. I’m not ancient, but I’m pretty sure we were born in different decades.”

  “Two people can be born a day apart and still be born in different decades. Try again.”

  “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

  “The way I see it, you’re trying to use our age difference as a reason to ignore the many attempts I’ve made to get to know you better,” he said.

  “Many?”

  “I’ve been trying for months,” he said. “I thought I’d lost my edge, but it’s not me. It’s you. Why are you playing so hard to get?”

  Her head reared back slightly, and that look of confusion in her eyes turned to one of awed understanding. “I was right. In your earlier email when you asked me out for coffee, you meant coffee coffee.”

  “What exactly is coffee coffee?”

  “You know what I mean,” Leslie said. “There’s a difference between just going out for coffee and going out for coffee coffee.”

  “Ah. Okay, I think I get it now,” Gabe said. “In that case the answer is yes. I did mean to ask you out for coffee coffee. And when I mentioned catching a show at The Jazzy Bean this Friday night, that was an invitation to coffee coffee, too.”

  She shook her head, her expression once again puzzled. “But why?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “Yes, why? I’m a single mother with two school-age girls. I was married for over ten years before my husband died. I spend my free time thinking about buying extra life insurance and finding slow-cooker recipes that freeze well.”

  “I’ve got a great paella recipe,” Gabe said with a grin. “It was my abuelita’s specialty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m saying. I don’t fit in your age demographic.”

  He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Exactly how young do you think I am?”

  “Too young for me to consider having coffee coffee with you,” she said.

  There was no way he would let her turn him down because of something this insignificant. For one thing, she could not be more than a couple of years older than he was. Though, it was not as if he would care if she was older than that. Age didn’t mean a damn thing to him. But, apparently, it meant enough to Leslie that she would allow it to get in the way of this chemistry that had been sizzling between them for months.

  “I’m twenty-eight years old,” Gabe said.

  “You’re even younger than I thought.”

  Gabe pitched his head back and groaned. He looked at her again and, with every ounce of what he was feeling bared to her, said, “What is it going to take to make you see me the way I see you?”

  “How do you see me?”

  “I see you as someone who is smart and sensitive and passionate about the people you love. You’re dedicated and thoughtful, and you give your time and energy without hesitation.” Gabe scooted to the edge of his chair, closing the distance between them. His voice lowered, he said, “I’m about to be really inappropriate, but I also see you as someone who is sexy as hell. You were sexy as hell before I knew you were a widowed mother of two little girls, and you were just as sexy after I learned that you were.”

  He reached over and took her hand in his. “So you’re thirty-one years old. Why does that matter?”

  “I’m thirty-four.”

  “So are millions of other people. Still doesn’t matter.” He gave her hands a gentle but firm squeeze. “I like you, Leslie. For all the reasons I just stated. You’re smart and sexy and sensitive and giving and sexy.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “You said that already.”

  “It bears repeating.” Gabe captured her chin with his fingers and nudged up her face. “Are you ready to stop fighting this and admit that you like me?”

  He could see the internal war happening within her as she studied his face and, for a minute, panic gripped his chest at the thought of pushing her so hard that he’d possibly pushed her away. But then she looked up at him and said, “We have to be discreet.”

  Excitement and relief crashed through him at the same time.

  “I can be discreet,” Gabe said.

  “That means no Friday nights at The Jazzy Bean,” she said. “There are too many wagging tongues around, and I’m not ready to give them something else to talk about. Whether or not our ages mean anything to you doesn’t matter. It will mean something to the people in this town.”

  He held up his hands. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Leslie. I can now call you Leslie, right?”

  The smile that graced her lips was so mesmerizing Gabe lost the ability to think about anything but eventually tasting them.

  “Yes,” she said. “You can call me Leslie, Gabriel.”

  “It’s Gabe,” he said, returning her smile. “My mami and abuelita are the only two people who call me Gabriel.” He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in months. “Now that that’s taken care of, why don’t you tell me how someone who went to James Madison ended up in this tiny town?”

  “I married one of Gauthier’s native sons,” she answered. “Braylon and I lived on an Army base in North Carolina for a few months, but I moved here permanently once I got pregnant with Cassidy. Braylon didn’t want his children growing up as Army brats. How did you hear about Gauthier?”

  “Tristan Collins told me about the opening for a science teacher. He and I were college roommates.”

  “He’s pretty popular around here. The high school band has made it to the statewide band competition for the past three years with him at the helm.”

  “Tristan loves it here, and he knew I was getting burned-out at the school where I taught in New Orleans. I was ready for a slower pace.”

  “Well, you’ll certainly get that here,” she said.

  “But I like it. Don’t you?”

  “Gauthier has grown on me, but I have to admit it took a while.” She laughed. “At first, it drove me crazy. Coming from Houston—I grew up in Hiram Clarke—I was used to city life. It took me the longest time to get used to falling asleep to the sound of crickets instead of traffic and police sirens.” The corners of her mouth dipped in a frown. “Now I can’t imagine my girls growing up anyplace else. Gauthier is the only home they’ve ever known.”

  “As far as I can tell, it’s a great place to raise a family. It’s small but people seem to like it that way.”

  “We do,” she said. “Maplesville has grown so quickly over the past few years, and many in Gauthier were afraid that we would have to do the same if we wanted to keep up, but I’m happy the people here have decided not to go the route of Maplesville. Yes, our schools are small, and we don’t have any chain restaurants or movie theaters or any of the other modern conveniences most people can’t live without, but that’s the way we like it around here. It’s what makes this place home. It’s what makes it special.”

  Gabe captured her hand again. He gently stroked her smooth skin, desire flooding his bloodstream at the realization that this woman he had been wanting all these months had fi
nally opened herself to the possibility of something real happening between them.

  “I had my reasons for liking this town before you walked in this door today,” Gabe said. “But Gauthier just became a lot more special to me.”

  * * *

  Tugging the bill of her baseball cap down to shield her eyes from the glaring sun, Leslie cupped her hands around her mouth and started to chant, “Go, Cubs, go! Go, Cubs, go!”

  She motioned for the crowd to join in as the seven-and eight-year-olds exited the field, making way for the nine-and ten-year-old softball players. She had never been one for loud public displays, that was, until her daughter started playing softball. After Cass’s first home run, Leslie had gone from meek spectator to the loudest fan in the stands.

  She was also, according to Cassidy, the most annoying fan, especially when she whipped out her trusty bottle of sunscreen.

  Leslie grabbed two bottles of SPF 70 from her bag and made her way down the bleachers. She, along with the softball coach, slathered sunscreen on both the home and away teams. She then went over to Kristi and the rest of the Diamond Dolls on the sideline and coated them, too.

  When she returned to the bleachers, Shayla was sitting in their usual spot.

  “Hey there,” Leslie greeted. “Xavier parking the car?”

  “He got called into the ER at Maplesville General. The on-call doc decided to take an early-morning fishing trip and was caught in traffic on his way back. Xavier just texted to say he should be here by the third or fourth inning.” Shayla pointed to Kristi. “Just look at that little thing in her cheerleader uniform. Is she the most adorable child in the world or what?” She stood and jiggled her hips. “Yay, Kristi! Shake it, baby!”

  Kristi turned, slapped an embarrassed hand over her eyes and returned her attention to the baseball diamond.

  “Is Cass nervous about the first game of the season?” Shayla asked as she reclaimed her seat.

  “She says she isn’t, but I found her pacing the hallway this morning with her softball bat. I told her it’s just a game and that she’s just here to have fun. I don’t want her to feel too much pressure to perform.”

  “Okay, Les, you know I loved my baby brother, but if he was the one giving Cassidy that pep talk this morning it would have been the complete opposite of what you said. Braylon would have told her to go out there and kick ass. Hard.”

  Leslie laughed and nodded. “Yes, he would have. Can you just imagine him out here?”

  She’d thought about Braylon more than usual this morning. The moment she’d arrived at the ballpark and had seen all the fathers in the bleachers, Leslie instantly had thought of how much Braylon would have cherished this. He had always been so proud of his girls. She could picture him standing along the fence line, yelling words of encouragement to Cass and her teammates. Or yelling obscenities at the umpire for a bad call. She knew Braylon. He would have been the most obnoxious dad at the ballpark.

  Leslie pulled in a steadying breath.

  Braylon was here. He was watching over them just as he’d promised he would whenever they’d had The Talk. They’d had The Talk a number of times during their marriage. It was part of being a military couple during a time of war. Each time he left on a tour of duty, Braylon would promise that he would always be with her in spirit, even if he wasn’t here in physical form.

  Leslie’s mouth dipped in a frown.

  What would Braylon think if he saw her here with someone else? With another man? How would he feel if Gabriel was sitting next to her in the bleachers, yelling encouragement to Cassidy, or standing along the sidelines praising Kristi’s cheerleading skills?

  In the months since she’d even remotely considered dating again, the one thing that had given her the most pause was the fear of disrespecting Braylon’s memory by bringing another man into his daughters’ lives. Even though Braylon would have wanted her to move on. He’d never meant for her to be alone, had never meant for their girls to grow up without a father.

  Why hadn’t he stuck around to be the husband and father he’d wanted for his family? Why did he have to leave her? Why couldn’t she have figured out a way to help him so that he would have stayed with them?

  Leslie straightened her spine. She would not allow her mind to go there. She had crossed that stage in her grief, and she would be damned if she returned to questioning Braylon’s actions over and over again. He was gone. It was done.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  Leslie whipped her gaze to Shayla. “What?”

  “Are you okay?” her sister-in-law asked a second time. “You looked...I don’t know...spooked.”

  “I’m fine,” Leslie said. She pointed to the baseball field. “Look, Cass is up to bat.”

  Resolved, Leslie turned her attention to what mattered here and now. She was here to support her children.

  She and Shayla both cheered Cassidy on as she struck out in three quick swings. The two batters who followed did the same, and in no time at all the game had gone through three innings. Xavier arrived just as Cassidy was going up to bat again in the fifth inning.

  “You got this one, Cass!” Xavier shouted as he slid onto the metal bleachers next to Shayla.

  Cassidy looked up into the stands, smiled at Xavier and hit a grounder to third base. The entire crowd went wild. Even those rooting for the opposing team cheered. They had all been waiting so long for something to finally happen.

  Leslie leaned forward and looked over at her brother-in-law. “She just wanted to show off for you.”

  “I knew my girl would give her uncle Xavier something to cheer about.”

  Leslie shook her head and laughed. She could not have asked for a more loving soul to be there as a surrogate father for her daughters. Even before he and Shayla had married, Xavier told her that she could count on him for anything the girls would ever need. Just thinking about the heartfelt conversation made Leslie’s chest ache with gratitude. Knowing that she wasn’t alone in this, that her family would always be here for her, brought her immeasurable comfort.

  A weight settled in her stomach as she thought about what would happen when she told Xavier and Shayla about their impending move to Texas. She had yet to make it official, but as soon as Stewart returned from New York, the ball would be set into motion. The contentment she’d experienced just a moment ago died a swift death at the thought of breaking the news to her family.

  The game ended with the Cubs winning two to zero, and as usual, whether win or lose, they all went out for ice cream at Hannah’s Ice Cream shop in neighboring Maplesville.

  By the time they arrived home, all Leslie wanted to do was shower and crawl under the covers. Instead of heading for the shower, she sat on the edge of her bed. From her nightstand she picked up the framed five-by-seven of Braylon in his dress uniform and stared at her husband’s handsome face.

  She’d always thought he was incredibly handsome, despite the dark purple port-wine-stain birthmark that stretched across a portion of the right side of his face, behind his ear and down his neck. Her lack of a reaction to his birthmark had been one of the reasons Leslie had figured they’d been meant to be together.

  She’d met him at a bar on South Padre Island during spring break her freshmen year at Rice. He and several of his Army buddies had been at the Coast Guard installation there and had come into the bar after a long day of exercises. Leslie, on a dare from one of her girlfriends, had entered a wet T-shirt contest, but she had refused to remove her bra and had been disqualified.

  Braylon had come up to her after she’d been booted from the stage and commended her for not caving to the pressure of the crowd that had been yelling for her to “take it off.” He’d then admitted that it would have made his night if she had listened to the crowd.

  He’d left the bar with her phone number and a promise from her that she would a
ctually pick up if he called. It was only after one of her girlfriends had remarked about the mark on his face that Leslie even registered it. She’d fallen in love with his eyes. They were so deep, by far the richest shade of brown she’d ever encountered. Both Cassidy and Kristi had been blessed with their father’s eyes.

  Leslie traced her finger down the cold glass in the frame, rubbing along Braylon’s strong jaw. “We miss you,” she whispered. “We miss you so much, honey. You would be so proud of the girls.”

  Her eyes fell shut and she tipped her head back. She tried to stop the hot tear that trekked down her cheek, but it had been an emotional day, and her defenses had plummeted to zilch. Besides, it had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to shed a couple of tears. She was due.

  She looked down at the framed photo again.

  “I’m sorry for some of the thoughts that have been going through my head lately.” Then she laughed. “You’re probably more upset that I haven’t had these thoughts sooner, but I warned you that I would have a hard time moving on.”

  The one thing Braylon had reiterated over and over was that if he didn’t come home after one of his deployments he didn’t want her to sit here languishing in sorrow. He wanted her to live on. He’d made her promise that she would find a good, loving father for his girls, someone who would protect them and vow to maim any boy who so much as dared to look at them with interest before the age of eighteen.

  Leslie chuckled, shaking her head as she pushed back against the headboard and brought her knees to her chest.

  Even though she had known it was a very real possibility that he could be taken from her, she had always felt deep in her heart that Braylon would return. She’d just never expected him to bring the kind of nightmares that followed him home from battle. Those scars—the ones etched on his soul—had led to his ultimate demise. He’d struggled with PTSD, had sought counseling both in the doctor’s office and in the church, but it hadn’t been enough.

  Leslie’s eyes fell shut.