The katydids had started up, so loud they made the whole night vibrate. They were like some huge mechanical beast, buzzing for hours on end. In the tall grass, the lightning bugs flickered in a frenzy, a million little dots of light that zigged and zagged, just as lost as I was. This really was a beautiful place, and the longer I was here, the longer I could see myself staying. If I wasn’t going to work for my father, did I have a reason to go back home?
There was no way my father would let me work for him again—that bridge was torched. He’d forgive me eventually, probably, but suffering through his wrath in the meantime was not an appealing option. And besides, did I want to keep fighting against his expectations of me? Why not start my own flipping business? I had a little savings and might be able to get a loan. It was a possibility I hadn’t considered before.
I heard footsteps in the grass behind me and quickly brushed the tears away, grateful to be in the dark. Seeing me cry was nothing new for him at this point, but I still hated it. Jack sat down, stretching his feet out, wiggling his toes. He turned to face me for a minute, then lay down and put his hands behind his head.
“Want to fill in the blanks?” he said.
The silence was like being under a spell. I just wanted to watch the twinkling fireflies, listen to the buzzing of the katydids and hear the woeful calls of the owls in the woods.
At last I said, “My father is displeased.”
“You have a real gift for understatement, you know that?”
I stretched out in the grass next to him. It felt good to lie back in the darkness. “I think we’ve reached the end of our partnership,” I said.
He turned toward me, his brow furrowed. “What?”
“My dad and me. We’re done for real this time.”
“Oh.” He turned back toward the stars. He slid his hand over his chest, like he was making sure it was still intact. “Right, your dad.”
I turned to him, resting on my elbow. “You thought I meant you.”
He shrugged, his eyes sad.
“No, sir. I’m not done with you yet.” I traced one finger along his arm.
“I hope not,” he said, sliding his hand behind his head. “For the record, I’m glad you held your ground. You shouldn’t let him bully you.” He found my hand in the grass and squeezed.
I hated that my father could still make me so angry, that I still cared so much about his approval. As much as I wanted to not need it, a part of me did—and I wanted that part to disappear.
“As a side note,” he said, his voice lighter, “you’re stone cold foxy when you’re all riled up.”
I smirked, and he pulled my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “You’re doing a great job with this place. Vergie would be proud.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “This will work out fine. You’re stronger already for it.”
“I pushed him too far.”
He snorted. “I think you said exactly what you needed to. Your father is a bully, and he needs to know when he crosses the line with you. Nobody deserves to be treated the way he treats you.”
“You should have heard the disgust in his voice.”
“Cher, the whole parish heard it. If you hadn’t gone off on him, I would have said everything you said to him and more.”
I smiled a little at that—the image of Jack going toe to toe with my father.
He leaned up on his elbow and leveled his eyes with mine. “I’m a firm believer in calling people out on their bullshit, regardless of whether they’re your kin. Hell, sometimes especially because they’re your kin.”
“But I think he might be right, and that’s what kills me. I am in over my head.”
“So what? Nobody ever got ahead by not taking risks. And the things worth doing, they’re usually not all that easy.”
“You’ve got an answer for everything. It’s sort of irritating.”
“I learned a lot by screwing up.” He brushed my hair away from my neck and leaned down so his lips moved against my ear. “You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for,” he said, his voice deepening. “And I, for one, am glad you ended up down here. Even though you’re kicking me out of my house.”
“Is that right?”
“God’s honest truth,” he said, holding one hand up like a Boy Scout. “Besides, don’t you feel better after telling him off?”
My father had completely crawled under my skin. Right then, he was likely sitting at his massive wood desk, crunching numbers and tallying up my mistakes like I was some kind of balance sheet. Screw him, I thought. I was perfectly capable of surviving without my father’s approval. It was time to start living that way.
“Yeah,” I said. “Actually, it felt damn good. I should get pissed and yell at people more often.”
He laughed, rolling onto his back.
I lay still, listening to his laugh mingle with the calls from the night birds. Sometimes I was tired of being the planner, being on a schedule. Sometimes I wanted someone else to take control for me. I wanted to be one tiny thing in this vast expanse of darkness.
I sat up quickly and straddled him so that my knees were on either side of his chest. He slid his hands along my thighs and said, “Well, hello there.”
“Hello, yourself,” I said, and leaned down to kiss him. His teeth pinched my lip in the way that always sent a shiver along my skin, and I slid my fingers into his hair. His hands moved down my back as he pulled me against him. “What’s all that for?” he said, when he finally took a breath.
“Cheering me up.” I stood up slowly, easing out of his grasp.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“It’s awful hot out here.” Taking a few steps toward the water, I slipped my shirt over my head and tossed it at him.
Raising one eyebrow, he said, “What’s gotten into you, cher?”
I slid out of my skirt and dropped it on the bank.
He leaned up on his elbows, smiling a wicked smile.
“Are you coming, or are you just going to gawk at me?” I asked.
He was on his feet in one fluid motion, sauntering toward me in that easy way of his that was so disarming. “Come here, you.”
“You have to catch me first,” I said, stepping into the water.
“Hey,” he said, jogging toward the bank. “Get back up here.”
The creek was deep in this part, over my head in the widest bend. The water was usually still here, except when there was a torrent of rain. Bends like this one were like lagoons, holding warmth from the heat of the day. Paddling around on my back, I grinned in the moonlight, splashing and giggling. It was the most relaxed I’d felt in days, like some crazy baptism that washed away all the things that left me scared and worried. It felt good to stand up to my father.
Jack came to the edge of the water, the waves lapping at his ankles. “Would you come back? The gators in there’ll eat you up.”
I laughed, staring up at the big round moon, loving the way the light bounced across the water and skimmed across my skin. “Then you’d better come eat me up first.”
“Enza, I’m not kidding.”
I paddled farther away. “Come and get me, you big chicken.”
He stood with his hands on his hips, like he might will me back to shore.
It was heaven, that warm water under the moon. Like being in some other time, some other place, where the things that shouldn’t matter didn’t.
I turned when I heard a splash, thinking for a second it might actually be an alligator, but then I saw the ripple of waves, the flash of skin. Jack surfaced next to me, smirking as he moved closer.
“Nice, isn’t it?” I said.
His eyes narrowed. “Do I have to haul you away on my shoulder again?”
I laughed, splashing him.
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” he said, and lunged toward me, wrapping his arms around me before I could swim away. I slid my hands down his back, below his waist, delighted to discover
he’d left his clothes on the bank. He tightened his grip as he kissed my neck. I squirmed, giggling, but it was impossible to wriggle out of his grip. Not that I wanted to anyway. I let him pull me back toward the bank as he waded through the dark water.
“Oh, come on, Jack. Swim with me.”
“You do like to tease me.” He slid down into the water, pulling me with him, his hands drifting to my hips.
I wound myself around him. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His eyes were wide, nearly black in the moonlight. Standing in the waist-deep water, he pulled me against him, my body cool in the water, warm where his skin met mine. He kissed me hard as drops of water fell from the ends of his hair, rolling down my cheeks and my neck, drawing a thin tingling line. My hands traced the curve of his back, then rested on his hips. The pinch of his teeth made me grip him tighter, stroking him until he whispered my name, his voice ragged.
He slid his fingers up from my waist, his thumbs drawing a line to my breasts. His lips trailed down, down, as he nudged me toward the bank.
“Time to get you out of here,” he said, his lips moving against the hollow of my throat. “I don’t want anything nibbling you but me.”
He gripped the backs of my thighs as he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. His body tensed as I tightened myself around him, winding my arms around his shoulders as he pressed his lips to my neck. He traced every contour with his tongue, his teeth, until I could hardly stand it. I kissed him harder then, tugging at his hair. I dug my fingers into his back, trying to coax out the rougher side of him, and when at last he called my name, I knew he was trying to do the same. His breath was hot against my skin; his hands held me with a firmness that made me shiver. I could never have enough of him.
“Why are you holding back?” I said, my lips brushing his ear. “I’m not so delicate.”
His breaths came deep and fast, his hands gripping me harder. “Thank God for that,” he said, moving toward the bank.
He carried me the last few steps to the shore, and we fell into the grass. My body ached to feel his weight, and I arched my back, drawing him closer as he settled on top of me. His hands pinned mine in the damp grass as he kissed me, harder now, as if something inside him was fighting to escape. I locked my legs around him, but he slid out of my grasp, smiling wickedly. He traced his tongue along my ribs, inching his way down, and then sat back on his knees as he pulled my ankle to his lips. He stared at me as he slid his teeth along the line of my calf, my thigh. My breath caught in my chest as his hands rested on my hips. He caressed me with his thumbs, saying, “Relax, cher,” and then slid his tongue along my softest skin. I cried out as he traced tiny circles with his tongue, tasting and teasing. I loved the way he took his time, making me long for more of his touch. Helpless, I dug my fingers into the grass as I felt the pull of his lips, the slight pinch of his teeth. I closed my eyes, dizzy, and whispered his name as my breath turned ragged. He pushed me further and further, his hands kneading my hips. My heart pounded so hard it hurt to breathe, and then I buckled, trembling beneath him. His palm traced a line from my hip to my neck as I struggled to catch my breath, and then he was on top of me, his hands on either side of my shoulders, his taut body sinking into mine.
“Jack,” I said, my voice wavering.
He kissed one corner of my mouth and said, “Say my name again.”
“Jack,” I moaned, and repeated it again and again.
His grin made me shiver. He shifted his weight, pinning my hips with his, and I thought for sure I would come apart again.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I murmured.
He slid his cheek along my neck, down to my shoulder, and said, “I’m not done with you yet, cher. I’ve been thinking about this all day.” The darkness of his voice drove me wild, and I ached to feel him inside me again.
I tightened my legs around him, and he said, “Darlin’, when you do that, I want to take you a hundred different ways.”
Squeezing, I said, “I wish you would.”
“Mmm,” he said, closing his eyes for an instant, and then his mouth returned to mine in a kiss that I felt all the way to my heels. With one long, slow motion he was inside me, and I gripped his shoulders tight. He groaned as I pulled at his hair and called his name, and he moved deeper, achingly slow. My hands drifted down his back, and he quickly rolled me in the grass, leaving me straddling him, my knees by his sides.
He grinned, wriggling under me, his hands gripping my hips, steering me into place. “Your turn,” he said, his voice bewitching. As his fingers slid along my skin, I closed my eyes, tilted my face toward the stars, and smiled as my name fell from his lips again and again, piercing the stillness of the salty air.
When I felt him getting close, I eased off him and slid my hands along his chest. He sighed as I traced a line to his navel, his hip. “Wicked, you,” he said.
“Just thought you needed to catch your breath.”
“We’ll see about that.” He rolled on top of me, and I laughed as he pinned me down, tickling my hips with his fingers. I wiggled beneath him as he rubbed his cheek along my neck but stopped when his hands gripped me like a vise—one in my hair and one at my hip. He held me firmly in place, the way he knew I liked, and slid inside me in a move that made my whole body shiver.
“Jack,” I said, breathless.
“You make me so absolutely crazy,” he said.
I felt wild as he moved faster, harder, urging me on. His body tightened, and his muscles tensed against mine. I dug my fingers into his back, feeling myself unravel.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare.”
He grinned, his hands sliding along my skin, stroking and squeezing. He slowed for a minute, teasing me, until I groaned. He laughed his wicked laugh, sliding his cheek along my jaw. With so many sensations at once, I thought I would surely explode, but he held me as he moved harder again. “Is this what you want, cher?”
My body quaked beneath his. He tensed again, then shifted his weight. I locked my arms around him and said, “Just stay like this. I love feeling you all over me.”
He slid his hand along my cheek as he whispered, “I think you like it almost as much as I do, darlin’.”
~~~~
If someone had told me a few weeks before that I’d be rolling around on a riverbank in the middle of the night with a guy like Jack, I would have told them they were certifiable. But I was beginning to think I was the crazy one for keeping a distance between us.
“Shit,” I said. “Our dinner’s probably blackened.”
He stood up, grabbing his jeans, and offered his hand to help me up. “I left it warming in the oven for us.”
As I gathered up the rest of our clothes, I heard movement in the brush. A cloud passed over the moon, making it nearly impossible to see in the darkness. There was more rustling in the scrub brush, and a twig snapped. Something was out there.
“Did you hear that?” I asked, struggling to get my shirt buttoned.
“Told you the gators would get you,” he said, nipping at my shoulder. He pulled his jeans on and led me toward the house.
I clutched the clothes against my body and followed him, my heart thumping. We were halfway to the house when the moon came out from behind a cloud, and I saw the shape of a person moving through the cypresses, just on the other side of the river.
I stopped. It couldn’t be real. I blinked and looked again, and there was nothing.
“Hey,” Jack said, “You all right?”
“Yeah,” I said. I scanned the tree line but saw nothing unusual. The moon shone brightly again, casting everything around us in blue.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Remy’s lanky silhouette passing between the trees as he crept along the edge of the water. He could be out in that curtain of cypress, waiting. I shivered. Could it really be Remy, or was I being paranoid? The thought of him getting to me like that made me sick to my stomach.
“You sure you’re OK?�
� Jack asked.
“Come on,” I said, taking his hand. “I’m starving.”
Chapter 20
The next morning, I stumbled into the kitchen to find Jack making omelets with an ungodly amount of sausage and cheese. He didn’t have to go in to work until noon, but he was never one to roll out of bed and split anyway. This was something I appreciated about him: his ability to be fully functional first thing in the morning. Mostly because I was nothing like him in that regard.
“How did I manage to find a man who can repair houses and cook?” I said.
“Guess you just wandered into the right swamp.” He poured a cup of coffee, then tousled my hair and kissed me. “Did you find anything interesting in the hat box yesterday?”
“Didn’t you look inside it?” I asked.
“No.”
“Really?”
“Well, aside from just peeking inside when I first found it… I wasn’t going to read Vergie’s letters.”
“I’m not sure I can read them yet either,” I said. “It looks like most of them are from my mother.”
He stared at me, stone-faced. “I had no idea.”
I shrugged. “It’s OK. I don’t think about her a lot.”
“You must be curious, though.”
“Yes and no. Someday I’ll read them.” I smiled, sipping my coffee. “Just not today.”
His eyebrows turned upward in a sad arc.
“There were also journals that Vergie kept,” I said. “And it means the world to have those.”
He smiled then. There was really no way I could ever repay him for giving that box to me.
“So listen,” he said when he was halfway through his eggs. “I’m leaving in a little while, but I’ve arranged for a friend to come stay with you until my shift’s over.”
“That’s not necessary.”
He shot me his don’t-start-with-me stare. “I told you I’m not leaving you alone again, and I meant it, Enza.”
“Jack, I’m a big girl.”
“I already called. He owes me a favor.”
I gave him my hardest glare.
He stared right back and said, “This isn’t up for negotiation. You’ll like Andre. He’s got a ton of good stories and cooks up a mean jambalaya. And he’ll protect you from any unwanted houseguests.” He waved his fork at me, like it might drive his point home.
Bayou My Love: A Novel Page 23
