Routines were helping Kiana big time too, especially the routine of working on her book business with Max. The money was coming in steadily, something she wasn’t used to, and it was good to see her almost relaxed. I had a feeling she’d dealt with too much chaos by seventeen to ever relax all the way.
I was definitely relaxing though, for the first time in what felt like forever. Even the belles didn’t drive me crazy. When Jorie started in on why she absolutely had to have walnuts in her chicken salad sandwiches at her bridal shower and not almonds, I not only didn’t roll my eyes, but I also didn’t even think about rolling my eyes. And when Lacie had her bridal shower two weeks later, instead of counting down the number of presents she had to open before I could help clean up and leave, I made mental notes about which things I’d want too. And it didn’t freak me out or make me sad.
When I came home afterward and found Mom arranging a bouquet of lilies that was elegant in its simplicity, I smiled. It was an arrangement she used to do for us for dinner at home.
“I love them,” I said, sliding onto a stool at the kitchen counter to watch her work.
“Hey, sugar. How was the shower? Did Lacie make you crazy?”
“No, she was all right. The food was good. They did the most darling petit fours with Tiffany-blue fondant and made them look like miniature gift boxes. They were almost too pretty to eat.”
“That does sound precious. How clever.”
“I’m going to have to remember that.”
There was a short pause. “For what?”
“It seems like something worth remembering.”
Mom picked up the vase and examined it from a couple of angles before she lowered it enough to peer over the tops of the lilies. “Like maybe for your own shower someday?”
“Sure,” I said, hopping off the chair and heading to the fridge. “Someday.” I looked for a cold bottle of water.
“Someday soon?” she pressed.
I found my bottle of water and closed the fridge, heading out of the kitchen as I said, “I have no idea.”
“Lila Mae, you stop right there. If you’re filing away petit-fours ideas in your head, you must also have some inkling that you’ll need that information soon. Set yourself down and talk to me.”
That was a tone I hadn’t been able to disobey since I was a kid. I made my way back to the stool. She nodded in satisfaction. “How’s it going with Max?”
“He’s good.”
“And how are y’all together?”
“Good.” I couldn’t help smiling. “Great.”
“He makes your heart happy,” she said with a soft smile. “That’s how I used to look after a date with your daddy.”
My heart did a double-thump, one happy, one sad. “I think I’m falling for him, Mom.”
“I think you should, not like things like this can be decided. They just happen.” She pushed the lilies aside and leaned on the counter, stretching her hands out to take mine. “I like him for you. Y’all are good together. I hear you planning that conference and talking about your work and laughing.” She squeezed my hands. “I hear you laughing. I love that. Let yourself fall, baby girl.”
“I always thought it would be scary to realize I’d found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But it doesn’t feel scary at all.”
“What does Max say?”
I deflated a tiny bit. “Nothing yet. Nothing like ‘I love you,’ anyway.”
“He will. It’s all over his face.”
“It feels like he’s almost saying it all the time. That’s good for now.”
“That’s better than good. That’s everything. If he’s speaking louder with actions than words, you hang tight. Those words will follow.”
“I can’t believe I’m talking about being in love with Max Archer. Who would have ever thought?”
She raised her hand, her smile growing pleased. “He’s always gotten under your skin in a way no one else has. Y’all just needed to grow up a bit to appreciate each other.”
“I really do, Mom. He’s such a good guy. He reminds me so much of Daddy. Max is so on top of things, and he’s really invested in doing any job he’s in charge of right. He’s got Kiana’s head so full of ideas for her book business that she’s almost more interested in that than she is in CJ Walker. I love it. The business will do her more good in the long run than the history will, that’s for sure. But if she can meld what she learns from both of them? She’s going to be unstoppable. And he’s been amazing with the conference.”
She straightened. “Are you ready for it?”
“Just about. The Denham Springs Stake Relief Society has been amazing to work with on the Friday-night barn dinner after the service project. Max has the workshops and speakers all nailed down. Our stake is helping to put on dinner Saturday, so I know it’s going to be good.”
“You better believe it. President Gray asked the Plaquemine Branch to come in and make y’all a jambalaya supper. They know what they’re doing. And our ward is doing desserts. It’s going to be delicious.”
“Two weeks to go. That flew. Max keeps waiting for me to freak out, but I have so much faith in him that it’s easy to breathe and leave it to him. There are two things that make it hard to be in charge of something. If I feel like I’m the only one who cares about an outcome, that’s hard. But Max wants this to be as good as I do, and he’s willing to put in the time. The other thing is if you have to work with someone you can’t please, but we’re so supportive of each other, it’s a big ole love fest. It’s kind of nauseating.”
“It’s perfect,” she said, her eyes a little misty. “That’s how it’s supposed to be. Well done, Lila Mae. Well done.”
I rounded the corner to hug her. “You and Daddy were the best teachers.”
“I wish that for you, honey. I hope that’s what you find with Max.”
It didn’t even make me queasy to say it. “I think I have.”
Chapter 23
“Are you ready for this?” Max squeezed my hand as we stood at the foot of the Creole Belle’s gangplank.
I stared at the boat, lit up and glowing in the falling dusk. I squeezed back. “So ready.”
“Good.” He stepped onto the gangplank and made sure he had a good grip on me as I followed in my four-inch heels. “We’ve got an hour to check it all out before everyone starts showing up.”
Mrs. Chapel met us on the promenade deck. “Good evening, y’all. Would you like to inspect everything?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Max said, and I smiled. It was a reflex now, the ma’ams and sirs, as much a part of his vocabulary as mine. Miss Chapel toured us around, and my nerves keyed up with each passing minute. It was excitement, not anxiety; there was nothing to be anxious about. The Creole Belle staff had handled their end of things beautifully. I dawdled at the deejay booth. He was my second biggest worry of the night. Dancing with a bunch of Mormons when an inappropriate song came on was almost as awkward as watching a TV show with Mom when a sex scene happened.
“Can I check the playlist?”
“Sure.” He flipped his laptop screen around so I could scroll through it. “Nothing to worry about,” I said, shooting a relieved smile at Max.
He scanned it and fist bumped the deejay. “Thanks, man.”
“I got you,” he said, smiling as he slipped on headphones to test his equipment.
“What was that for?” I asked as Max drew me toward the banquet table.
“Nothing. Just thanking him for doing a good job.”
It sounded like they were talking about more than the playlist, but I let it go. With Max, anyway. Butterflies kicked up in my stomach as I wondered if Max had made a special song request. I tried not to let my imagination run away with me, but I was already halfway into a daydream of us out on the dance floor, swaying together, lost in the music of what would become “our” song, trying and discarding different sound tracks for the dance . . .
“Good idea. Sound good to you, Lila?”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Mrs. Chapel recommended that we eat now, or we might be too busy overseeing everything to eat later.”
“I can almost promise it,” she said. “I’d hate for you to miss out on this. Our chef is amazing.”
We took our plates and worked through the buffet line. Max sampled a little bit of everything. “Quality control.”
“Good thinking,” I said with a straight face. I stuck to the catfish cakes with spicy rémoulade and some gorgeous grilled vegetables, and we took our seats.
Max took one bite of the blackened chicken alfredo and did his food happy face. “This is ridiculously good.” He gave Mrs. Chapel a thumbs-up, and she smiled before turning back to the catering staff to give them instructions.
We finished our dinners, eating quickly so they could reset our spots, but when Max pushed back from the table and held out a hand to help me up, he took his time drawing me into a long hug. “We did it.”
“You’re amazing,” I said. “This conference has been spectacular because of you.”
He lifted his head to stare down at me. “No. I only executed orders from the best general I’ve ever worked under. You’re the amazing one.” He glanced around the deck and toward the still-empty gangplank. “Hold on.” He let go of me and hurried over to the deejay, who smiled and nodded. When he came back to me, he held his hand out. “May I have this dance?”
Right on cue, music spilled out of the speakers, and Mrs. Chapel nodded to one of the crew. A second later, the lights on the deck dimmed. Max walked back, a slow, intentional walk and the look in his eyes made my heart pound harder with each step he took toward me. He was it. I’d finally found my one, and when Etta James sang the words, “At last . . .” from somewhere deep inside her soul, I slipped my hand into his and melted, everything disappearing but the soft light, the music, and Max.
He held me close, no fancy ballroom moves, just swaying that carried away pieces of me until I was a billion separate atoms humming with electricity. I leaned into him and absorbed it all, floated in it, drowned in it, came alive only to find that every sense was tuned to him as he leaned down to kiss me, a soft kiss, a promise. He tucked my head beneath his chin and let the song play out. We were barely even moving anymore, even though Etta James was filling me all the way up inside, the deep joy of her song capturing what I had become with Max.
As the last strains of the song died out, Max’s heartbeat sped up, a distinct change in rhythm I could feel right away with my head pressed against his chest. As connected as we were at the moment, it didn’t feel like nerves. The energy between us shifted toward anticipation. The deejay had put on “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You,” and instead of finding Elvis corny like I usually did, it was perfect. Max threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me over to look at the river and the lights winking to life on the other bank.
I leaned on the railing and soaked it all in, but Max leaned next to me and called my name, his voice soft as the river breeze. “Lila Mae.” His face was serious, and my stomach rolled with the light slap of the waves nudging the boat.
“Hi.”
He smiled. “Hey.” He reached up and wound a tendril of my hair around his finger, letting it slide off again. “This song was my request.”
I was going to swoon. Flat-out, weak-in-my-knees, pass-out-from-happiness swoon.
“You’re the reason I came here to Baton Rouge. You’ve been in the back of mind ever since the night with the lightning bugs. It doesn’t make any sense. I know that. But I thought maybe coming down here and finding you would put it to rest. I thought we’d go out, and I’d see how normal it all was, and I’d break the spell.”
This time he straightened and slid his fingers into my hair, around to the back of my head in a way that always sent tingles down my spine, and pulled me up for another kiss as sweet and soft as the one he’d given me while we’d danced. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, and took a deep breath. “I can’t break the spell. I don’t want to. I love you, Lila.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, and stayed there, listening to the strong, sure thump of his heart. It didn’t even scare me to look up after a minute and say, “I love you too.”
He squeezed me tight.
I reached up to touch his lips. “Say it again.”
“I love you.” His eyes softened, and he dipped down for another kiss.
“I love you back.”
He held me for a couple of minutes, and his heartbeat twined with the last notes of the song. Finally, he sighed. “The last thing I feel like doing is running a dance right now.”
“But we’re the kind of people who do even the stuff we don’t like.” I slipped out of his arms. I missed him, and he was only a foot away from me. “Should we go be grown-ups?”
He grimaced. “Yes.”
We walked around the pilot house back to the bow where the dinner was set up. The deejay winked at Max, who grinned back at him before he glanced over at the gangplank. “Just in time.” A group of six was about to board. He squeezed my hand again. “I’m so glad I’m doing this with you.”
“The dance?”
“The everything.”
“You’re killing me.”
“I know. It’s the best kind of worst, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I glanced around as a crewman examined the boarding passes for the newcomers. “When we came here to check it out for this dance, I had no idea this is how the night would go. I figured I was doomed to run around checking on details while everyone had a night full of romance and moonlight.”
“Don’t forget the detail about how I’m madly in love with you, okay?”
My cheeks heated, but I stood on tiptoe to press a kiss near his mouth. “That’s not a detail. That’s the headline.”
“Funny you say that, because it’s exactly what I think about you.”
Before I could answer, the first group was on the deck, exclaiming over the boat and the table settings, laughing and chattering about where to sit.
“Game time,” I said, and Max shot me a smile. I used to think it was hinting that he had a secret, but now I knew it.
He dropped a quick kiss on my forehead before going over to greet the newcomers.
For the rest of the night, we found each other as often as possible in between handling questions. We’d opted not to sail because the rental fee was so much more affordable if we stayed docked, but it was still perfect. Before long, every table filled with guys and girls in their best suits and semiformal dresses, sprinkles of sequins and costume jewelry sparkling in the deck lights. Conversations and bursts of laughter rolled off each table, and when the catering staff began to remove empty plates, the deejay changed the music to something upbeat, and a few girls drifted out to the dance floor. By the next song, the floor was full, and Max came to find me. I looped my arm through his as we watched the dancers. “We did it.”
“We’re awesome.”
I burst out laughing. “We are. I can’t wait to see what we cook up next.”
His forehead furrowed, and he looked like he was about to say something more serious, but the song changed again to a pop tune that had nearly worn out my radio the year before, and a cry went up from the crowd. I looked over to see Jorie coming right for me. “Dance,” she said, grabbing hold of my wrist and pulling me away. Max shook his head and smiled. “You come too!”
And we spent the rest of the night like that, jumping into the crowd on the fast stuff, reconnecting like magnets for the slow ones, and taking turns handling logistical issues in between. By the time Max walked me off the boat, I had my high heels in my hands, and when we reached the end of the gangplank, he swept me up and carried me to his car. “Don’t want you walking on this asphalt in the dark,” he said, his voice low.
“Sure, that’s why you picked me up.”
He stopped and stole a hard kiss before walking again without a word.
“Are you
going to do that every time I’m sassy?”
“Yes.”
I let out a happy sigh. “And to think, my mom was always telling me my mouth was going to get me in trouble, like it was a bad thing.”
He stole another kiss when he walked me to my door twenty minutes later.
“I don’t want to go in,” I said. “It means the best night of my life is over.”
He drew me into his arms. “I guess that’s our first disagreement because I feel like this is the beginning of everything.”
I nodded, suddenly too overcome with happiness to find words. After several minutes, he peeled his arms away and stepped back.
“Max? I love you.”
His huge grin showed up. “I love you too.”
“See you at church.”
He drove away, taking a piece of my heart with him, and it didn’t scare me one bit.
Chapter 24
“Kate?”
She rolled to her side to look at me. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I think I’m superstitious.”
“Okay.” She pressed pause on the movie. We’d unfolded her living room sofa bed and put in 10 Things I Hate About You, popped more popcorn than a theater of people could eat, and hunkered down in our pajamas for a girls’ night while David was off doing his National Guard training for the weekend. Max was on a site visit at Taggart’s Houston plant to look at how they were streamlining their shipping process, so it was a perfect night for Kate-time. “What are you superstitious about?”
“Everything is so good right now. It can’t last forever. I’m waiting for something to go wrong.”
“That’s not superstition. That’s your anxiety talking.”
“Really? Then why have I worn the same pair of—”
“Don’t say underwear! In the name of all that is good and right, do not say underwear because it will kill me to end our friendship, but that’s too disgusting to still love you.”
“I was going to say socks.”
“That’s not much better. I might have to kick you out and not hang out with you again until my stomach feels better.”
Southern Charmed Page 19
