Make You Remember

by Macy Beckett

  Beau raised one cup. “Already got you covered. I thought we could drink our coffee on the deck.”

  Though touched by the gesture, Devyn eyed the cup with skepticism. She was picky about how she took her coffee. “Two creamers, three—”

  “Three sugars, and a dash of vanilla syrup,” he finished. “I know.”

  “Wow,” she said, taking the cup and inhaling the heavenly scent of roasted beans and sweet vanilla. Based on the smell, he’d totally nailed it. “Impressive.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her down the hall. “I’ve been paying attention.”

  That made her smile. She’d paid attention, too. “You mostly drink yours black, but sometimes you dump in a random amount of sweetened creamer. Sometimes sugar, but not always.” There was no rhyme or reason to his method.

  “What can I say?” he asked while pushing open the door to the main deck. “I’m a man of mystery.”

  She laughed and preceded him outside, where a crisp morning breeze greeted her. The riverbank smelled of wood smoke and fallen leaves, a unique scent of autumn that got her pulse hitching in anticipation of football games and roasting turkeys. She rested a hand on the railing and gazed out at the churning water behind the paddle wheel.

  “Trying to keep the ladies guessing?” she asked when Beau settled close beside her.

  “Nope.” He sipped his coffee and added, “Just one lady.”

  Devyn used her cup to hide a grin. “Oh, yeah? Is she special?”

  Beau didn’t answer right away, but then he used a large finger to tilt her face toward his. He kissed her in a light brush of lips and pulled back to offer that lopsided grin—the one that turned her insides to pudding every single time. “Special doesn’t begin to describe her. She’s spectacular.”

  Devyn’s heart quivered. That’s when she knew she was hooked far beyond the force of physical attraction. Scarier still, she didn’t want to retreat. Beau had replaced her center of gravity, making it impossible to escape his pull, so she nestled into his embrace and they sipped their coffee in contented silence.

  For the first time in over a decade, she felt truly at home.

  • • •

  “I want to talk about something,” Devyn said that night as she crushed a bag of gingersnaps for her sister’s apple streusel topping. She pointed the heavy wooden rolling pin at Allie. “But you have to promise not to give me any shit.”

  Allie held up a paring knife in oath, her fingers damp from slicing apples. “Consider this a Zero Shit Zone.”

  “Okay.” Devyn blew out a breath. “I want to learn everything I can about Memère’s curse on the Dumonts.”

  Allie rolled her eyes so hard she might have viewed her own brain. “Not this again.”

  “Hey! You promised.”

  With a resigned nod, Allie went back to chopping apples. “All right. We can talk about Memère’s curse,” then mumbled, “even though it’s just superstition that snowballed into a multigenerational pattern of dysfunction.”

  Devyn snickered. “It’s cute how you can’t contain your psychobabble. Is there a name for that? Probably some kind of compulsive disorder . . .”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Allie said. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything you can tell me.” All that Devyn recalled about the curse was that Edward Dumont had ditched Memère at the altar. In a fit of rage, Memère had hexed him with the words Fickle love rots your family tree. None but purest faith shall set you free. Beyond that, the woman left no instructions for breaking the curse.

  Allie shrugged. “You read the old letter to Edward Dumont. Everything I know about the hex is in there.”

  “But what about Memère?” Devyn asked. “I want to know more about her—anything that will help me understand what she was thinking that day. Didn’t you find her journal during the move to Marc’s place?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What was in it?”

  Allie shivered as if someone had walked over her grave. “Scary stuff. Our great-great-grandma was not a nice lady.”

  “So what did Edward Dumont see in her?”

  A wry smile lifted Allie’s lips as she took a bite of apple. “He was a man. What do you think?”

  “Ah.” Devyn should have known. Some things never changed, like the power of mind-blowing sex. “It was hot between them?”

  “Not just hot,” Allie said. “According to her journal, she and Edward were combustible beyond measure.”

  Devyn wolf-whistled. “You go, Memère!”

  “From there,” Allie continued, “it turned to love. But Edward’s family didn’t approve of the match. They came from old money, and I guess Memère wasn’t pedigreed enough for them. She didn’t write a lot about it, but from what I gather, it took a while for her to convince Edward that they could be happy without his family’s blessing.”

  “Let me guess,” Devyn said. “Edward’s family threatened to cut him out of the will.”

  Allie shook her head. “She didn’t say. All she wrote was that they agreed to marry in secret, and after the wedding day, she never wrote about him again. Not a single word.” Allie gave a sad sigh. “But I noticed a difference in the tone of her entries. After that, she was just so . . .”

  “Angry?”

  “More like bitter. She stopped making love charms for a while. The only reason she started again was because it was her biggest moneymaker. I’m surprised she ever got married.”

  While Devyn rolled her wooden pin over another bag of gingersnaps, she processed what she’d learned about Memère, stretching out the scant information like saltwater taffy to gain more insight into the hex. One detail stood out to Devyn—Memère had to convince Edward that they didn’t need his family’s blessing. It implied that their approval meant a lot to him, or perhaps it was their money he cared about. Either way, he’d turned his back on love because he feared it wasn’t enough.

  Purest faith shall set you free.

  Edward Dumont had lacked faith in love.

  But how was that knowledge going to help Beau? When it came to matters of the heart, he was fearless. He’d held nothing back. In fact, he’d been pushing for more since he came back to town. He seemed to genuinely want a future with her.

  For now, Devyn thought. There’s no telling what he’ll do in the end.

  She’d never expected him to bolt after graduation, and he had claimed to love her then. Maybe his faith wasn’t as strong as she assumed.

  “Does any of that help?” Allie asked, drawing Devyn back to present company.

  Devyn gave her bag of gingersnaps one final whack before tossing it aside and releasing a long sigh. “Not really.”

  “You’re overthinking this.” Allie offered an apple slice, but Devyn waved it off. “Beau’s a changed man, and he’s obviously crazy about you. Why not give him another chance and see where it goes?”

  That was easy for Allie to say—she didn’t believe in the curse. “Because that’d just be a temporary fix. Why should I get more attached to him if he decides to cut and run again?”

  If she wanted to be with him in the long term—and that was a big if—then they had to break the hex.

  “Hon, listen.” Allie rested a sticky hand on Devyn’s shoulder, then realized what she’d done and pulled it back. “I know you want to control the outcome, but you can’t. There’s no curse—and there’s no mystical cure-all that will make your fears disappear. You’ve got to trust Beau. He might hurt you again, or he might make you deliriously happy. You’ll never know unless you try.”

  “But—”

  Allie flashed a palm. “No buts. Love’s always a risk.”

  Devyn didn’t care what Allie said; the curse was real. Just look at Beau’s mama—for nearly three decades, she’d been risking her heart for his father. And what good did it do? She was alone, pining after him while he shacked up with a woman half his age—a woman pregnant with his sixth child. Allie was definitely right about one thing: Devyn
couldn’t control the outcome.

  And she hated that.

  She finished the streusel topping, then wrapped up a few cookies and tucked them in her pocket to take to Beau. After swinging by her room for her backpack—which she’d stuffed with clean clothes and toiletries—she set off for his suite. If she couldn’t control forever, she’d enjoy the here and now.

  Halfway to the stairwell, she passed Alex, who she imagined was headed for her room. To save him the effort she said, “Ella’s not in there.”

  Alex came to a slow halt, his shoulders hunched as he exhaled a long breath. “Of course she’s not. She’s avoiding me like I’m a case of herpes.”

  Devyn took a step toward the stairwell, but the dejection in his voice stopped her. The last thing she wanted to do was get in the middle of someone else’s drama—she had enough of her own—and yet she couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, then immediately contradicted himself. “But has she told you anything? Like what I did to make her so mad? I don’t know how to fix this, because she won’t talk to me. I don’t even pass her in the hall anymore. It’s like she’s invisible.”

  Figuring they should keep their voices low, Devyn joined him and leaned against the wall. “Well, you know she wants more than friendship, right?”

  Another sigh. “Yeah.”

  “I can tell you’re attracted to her,” Devyn said. “But does it go any deeper than that? Do you love her?”

  Alex looked at her with those deep blue eyes, and for a moment, his face transformed. His gaze turned soft. A half smile formed on his lips, tugging a dimple into view. It was easy to see how Ella-Claire had fallen for him.

  “She means the world to me,” he said.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Devyn pointed out. “Ella-Claire wants to hear those three magical words.”

  No longer the lovesick puppy dog, Alex sniffed a laugh, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Put it anywhere? Those are my three favorite words.”

  Devyn shook her head at the pervert, doing her best not to laugh because she didn’t want to encourage him. “You’re such a Dumont.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.” Folding her arms, she delivered a stern look. “Let’s get back on track.”

  “Okay,” he said with an apologetic wave. “Go ahead.”

  “Ella told me all the reasons you want to stay in the Friend Zone, and believe me, I understand. You made some good points. I actually agree with you.”

  Alex’s blond brows jumped. “Finally, someone who gets it!”

  “I do,” she assured him with a pat on the arm. “But none of that matters, because love isn’t logical. Ella-Claire can’t just turn off her feelings and be your best friend again. She can’t watch you move on with someone else. It’s too painful.”

  He fell silent for a few beats. “But I’m not dating anyone.”

  “For now,” she said. Seeing how young and attractive Alex was, Devyn knew he wouldn’t stay single for long. And neither would Ella. “Put yourself in her shoes. Do you want to think about her in bed with another man?”

  Alex thrust forward a palm as if to block the image. “Don’t put those kinds of thoughts in my head!”

  “Maybe that’s part of the problem. You think she’ll always stick around because you don’t see her as a grown woman with needs and desires.” While he processed that, she added, “Bottom line: the two of you can’t be friends. Either you’re in, or you’re out, so figure out what you want and make peace with the consequences. Because no matter what you choose, there will be consequences.”

  Alex stared at the carpet between his feet. Since he clearly had some soul-searching to do, she gave him one of Beau’s cookies and left him alone with his thoughts.

  She jogged up the stairs two at a time and found herself bouncing on her toes when she reached Beau’s door. A surge of butterflies tickled her chest when he answered, and she saw her excitement reflected in his honest smile. He was still in uniform, but he’d removed his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt to midchest. She’d never seen anyone more handsome, even with those ridiculous sunglasses resting atop his head.

  “It’s about time,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I think you enjoy torturing me.”

  In consolation, she handed over the remaining cookie—white chocolate macadamia nut, his favorite. “I came as fast as I could.”

  He took the cookie and devoured it in two bites. “You’re forgiven,” he said with his mouth full, then ushered her inside his suite.

  Devyn stood on tiptoe and pulled the sunglasses off his head. “What is it with you and these things? Was the glare inside the casino too blinding?”

  After washing down his cookie with a swig of bottled water, he shrugged out of his dress jacket and slung it onto the nearest chair. “I covered the afternoon shift in the pilothouse. Marc’s backup guy got sick, and until we know whether it’s contagious, we’re quarantining him to his room.”

  “Ah. Good thinking.” In such close quarters, stomach bugs ran rampant on ships like this one. She tossed his sunglasses onto his discarded dress jacket and asked, “Do you like piloting the boat?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a nice change, but I don’t really—”

  “Care what the job is,” Devyn finished. “You just like being here with your family.”

  Beau grinned. “You probably think that’s cheesy.”

  She closed the distance between them and threaded her fingers behind his broad neck. Beau didn’t have any wild career ambitions or a hunger for power. He’d made the people he loved the priority in his life, and she thought that was sexy as hell.

  “There’s nothing cheesy about you, Dumont.” She rose up to kiss him and then said, “Saucy, maybe. But not cheesy.”

  From somewhere in the distance, a woman’s voice crooned, smooth and slow, and the sounds of jazz filtered into the room. Devyn rested a cheek on Beau’s chest and listened to the song for a few sultry beats.

  “Live music from the main deck,” Beau said.

  “Mmm.”

  He took her hand in his and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her nearer. Then he led her in a dance—a lazy sway with their feet barely moving across the floor. It was more of a caress than anything else, but Devyn didn’t mind. In fact, she liked it. Any excuse to be close to Beau was good enough for her.

  When the song ended, he kissed her forehead and murmured, “I’ve been thinking about the curse.”

  She tipped back her head to study him, but he stared across the room, his expression blank. “About what, specifically?”

  “I still want you to help me break it.” He met her gaze, and there was no mistaking the concern etched onto his striking features. “It took a long time to get another chance with you. I don’t want anything driving us apart again.”

  The old Devyn would have said Beau was getting ahead of himself, that she hadn’t promised him anything beyond a full night in his bedroom. But he’d changed her. Now she shared his hope. She didn’t want their time together to end.

  “I’m doing my best,” she said, then told him what she’d learned about Edward Dumont. “Love wasn’t enough for him. That’s where the purest faith line came from. But I don’t know how else I can help. I can’t make you believe, not deep down, the way it counts.”

  He didn’t say anything after that, just gathered her to his chest and smoothed a hand over her hair while they finished their dance. The music stopped, and he wordlessly peeled off her clothes.

  When he took her to bed, he loved her stronger than before. Not hard enough to hurt her, but with a passion that took her by surprise. He withheld his own climax for what seemed like hours as he made her come again and again. It wasn’t until she was too weak to wrap her legs around his waist that he finally let go. After, he held her tightly throughout the night. Devyn wasn’t sure what to make of his behavior.

  Either B
eau had absolutely no faith in their future, or enough to last a lifetime.

  Chapter 15

  “Here you go.” Devyn signed the elementary school vacation form and handed it to Will, then scrawled her signature on the middle school version and slid it across the table to his older brother, Jason. “I can honestly say that you two learned a lot on this trip.” She winked. “And that you were a pleasure to have in class. I’m going to miss you guys.”

  “Me, too,” Will said with an adorable gap-toothed grin. “Since it’s our last day, can we play Super Mario World?”

  “I want to crush some more Coke cans,” Jason added. “Can we do that, too?”

  “Anything you want,” she said. “It’s your party.”

  Devyn poured the contents of two soda cans into paper cups for the brothers, then invited them to dig into the pizza she’d special-ordered from the galley. Since the boat would dock in New Orleans in a few hours, most parents had elected to keep their children. Which meant Devyn and the boys had the education center to themselves to celebrate in style.

  Well, in twelve-year-old-boy style.

  But she’d come to appreciate the beep beep bwoop noises of Mario World and the laughter of her two favorite students. She had forgotten how much fun children could be, and she hated for the trip to end.

  While sinking her teeth into a slice of pepperoni pizza, she darted a glance at the front of the room, where rows of windows looked out into the hallway. Beau had promised to eat lunch with them, but he was twenty minutes late. She pulled out her cell phone and sent him a quick text.

  The pizza was getting cold, so we started without you. There’s still plenty left, and I’m wearing that lace-up corset dress you like . . .

  A few minutes later, he replied. Sorry, can’t make it. It’s madness at the purser’s desk. I’m stuck here for a while, but have an extra slice for me.

  Devyn’s heart sank. In the grand scheme of things, lunch in the education center was no biggie, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. A shadow of unease had gradually crept over her all day, similar to the heaviness in the air before a storm. Her instincts told her trouble was brewing, and she was rarely wrong.