Текст книги "Storms Over Secrets"
Автор книги: J. A. DeRouen
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
“One Sweet Love” by Sara Bareilles
The Past
I RUN THE cold silver chain through my fingers and smile to myself as I close the refrigerator door. I smooth my thumb over the grooves of the St. Jude medallion while making my way to the living room.
“Grams, I found your necklace … in the fridge. How in the world did it end up there? And why do you insist on wearing this silly thing?”
She eyes me over the top of her reading glasses and places her yarn and crochet hook in her lap. She pretends to be bothered by my question, but the gentle tug on the corner of her mouth gives her away.
“I would think the fact that you found it in the refrigerator would be all the explanation you needed, sweet pea. If anyone needs prayers from the patron saint of lost causes, it’s this old geezer here.”
I place the necklace in her outstretched hand, rolling my eyes in amusement. She puts it around her neck and taps the medal into her ample bosom, silently assuring herself it’s back where it belongs. I’ve lived with my grandmother nearly all my life, and that necklace is as permanent a fixture in her life as she is in mine. If she hadn’t adopted me when my mother, her daughter, passed away, I have no idea where I’d be today.
“Lucas is gonna come check on you at about eight o’clock, Grams. I promise I won’t be too late.” I reach down and kiss her powder-dusted cheek, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. Anais Anais—it’s all she wears, and I’d know the scent anywhere. I wince at the shrill buzzing of her hearing aid, but train my face back into a smile before I rise.
“I’m perfectly capable of giving my own insulin shots, Celia Marie Lemaire. You can tell Lucas to keep his bee-hind at home. Besides, he should be going with you to this party. What type of boyfriend is he, letting my only granddaughter go out unescorted?” she rants, jabbing her crochet hook in my direction and setting her jaw.
“Calm down, Grams. I’m going with Audrey and a few other friends. It’s a girls’ night … no boys allowed. Besides, Lucas doesn’t want to go to high school parties now that he’s a college boy. He’s got better things to do, I’m sure.”
“Exactly, he’s got much better things to do than poke me,” she says, pursing her lips. She closes her eyes for a moment, slowly opens them, and smiles as she takes in my appearance. I smooth my linen skirt, straighten my spine, and pull my shoulders back. “You look beautiful. To have the privilege of watching you become the stunning young woman standing before me? Well, there’s no greater gift in this world. Which is exactly why Lucas shouldn’t let you out of his sight. This old lady can take care of herself.” Her voice turns up at the end, as if she knows she’s wasting her time but refuses to give up the good fight.
I shake my head as I gather my purse and keys. “He’s got nothing to worry about. You know that, Grams.”
Lucas Landry gave me my first kiss in fourth grade behind the concession stand at the community ballpark. There have been thousands of kisses between us since that day, and I have every intention of kissing that boy every day for the rest of my life. This world is clouded with uncertainty, but Lucas is the one thing in my life I never question.
“I certainly do, Celia. That boy eases my mind when I think of leaving you all alone in this life. Lucas will take care of my sweet girl when I’m gone, just as you’ll take care of him.” Even from across the room, I see the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes, just as she grabs her hook and yarn, refocusing on her crochet. She clears her throat and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, never meeting my eyes. “Be careful tonight, sweet pea. You and Audrey look after each other, ya hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. Love you, Grams,” I call out as I head out the front door, trying to push the unwelcome thoughts of one day being without her out of my mind. I breathe in a gulp of the muggy evening air, already feeling the beads of sweat collecting at the bend of my elbows. Louisiana weather is nothing if not humid.
My eyes focus on the two-story house across the street, and my lips curve into a smile when I see the navy blue drapes pull back from the second-story bedroom.
Lucas.
I hurry down the driveway and across the street, praying Audrey isn’t quite ready to leave yet. She primps with the best of them, so the odds are in my favor. I want to steal a few precious moments with her brother … my boyfriend. But if Audrey thinks for one second Lucas is encroaching on our girls’ night, she’ll rip me out of his arms without a second’s thought. Fights between her and Lucas can get … sticky for me. I try my best to be Switzerland in all Landry household disputes.
Before my foot breeches the first step onto the front porch, an eager hand clutches my arm and jerks me to the side of the house. An excited giggle escapes my lips as I struggle to regain my footing. Lucas rights me with firm fingers digging into my waist. He buries his head in my neck and inhales.
“Hmmmm, sunshine,” he says with a smile in his voice.
What girls’ night?
He breaks away and peppers my neck with open-mouthed kisses. “I knew the second you opened the front door, Audrey would steal you away. I want a few minutes with my girl.”
His breath tickles my ear in the most delicious way, and I turn my head to give him better access.
“You know, you could meet us there … it’s not Audrey’s party or anything. She can’t uninvite you,” I whisper, wishing I could stay tucked inside Lucas’s arms for eternity.
He breaks away as his thumbs brush my cheeks. His eyes soften, and his lips turn into a slight frown. “Those parties are always so loud, Celia—everyone bumping into each other, spilling their drinks, starting fights. It’s just not my thing.”
“What about me? Am I your ‘thing’ anymore?” I ask with a pout.
He squeezes my neck and searches my eyes. “Are you my thing? Fuck, Celia, you’re my everything. You know that.”
“Lucas, you think you’re so slick, but I saw you grab Celia to maul her behind the house! It’s girls’ night. No boys, and especially no YOU!”
I can’t see Audrey, but I’m sure her hands are fisted on her hips and she’s shooting daggers in our direction. I sneak a peek around the corner of the house and jump back, flinching at the sight of my infuriated best friend.
“Gotta go.” I shrug with a wince and laugh.
I walk away, holding Lucas’s hand until the very last second, turning to catch one last look at those gentle brown eyes that own me. When I look up to face my accuser, my very irritated best friend, I startle at the sight of her mother leaning against the doorframe.
“Hi, Mrs. Cindy. I didn’t see you there,” I say, with a shaky voice and flushed cheeks.
“Celia, it’s good to see you, sweetheart,” she replies with a smile. Mrs. Cindy leans out of the doorway and cranes her neck. “You can come out now, Lucas. It’s safe to say you’ve been caught.”
Lucas slinks out of hiding, having the good sense to look sheepish as he passes Audrey with an apologetic shrug. While he gets a chuckle from his mom and me, Audrey growls as he passes.
“Grams all set up for tonight, Celia?” Mrs. Cindy asks, ever the diplomat, trying to divert Audrey’s attention to a less infuriating topic.
“Yes, ma’am, Lucas has it covered,” I answer as I pass through the doorway and into the foyer.
The Landrys are much more than neighbors. They’ve become part of our family. Grams and I can both be stubborn, refusing the help of others, but this generous family doesn’t take no for an answer, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Whether Lucas is helping with Grams’s meds, or Mr. Gene is deciphering insurance and medical bills, or Mrs. Cindy is inviting us to dinner, this family comes through for us every single time.
“I’m glad Lucas can help. Now, I need you to keep my rambunctious daughter out of trouble tonight. You think you can do that? I know it’s an arduous task…”
“Mom, I’m perfectly capable of staying out of trouble,” Audrey explains as she pulls me by the hand and up the stairs to her room. She stops short and a smile plays on her lips. “Well, most of the time, at least.”
“Audrey Grace,” Mrs. Cindy starts, but Audrey raises her hand in protest.
“I promise, Mom. Best behavior, I swear,” she says with a solemn expression. As quickly as it comes, her serious demeanor washes away, and she pulls me into her room and slams the door.
“You. You’re already on my shit list, little lady,” she says as she points at me with squinted eyes.
I hold up my hands in protest and laugh. “I was taken against my will. Kidnapped, really.”
“Yeah, Celia, you looked all broken up about it.” Audrey holds her expression of mock anger. “That’s one Lucas-inspired strike against you tonight, and believe me, I’m keeping score.”
I cover my mouth to suppress a giggle, and I see the faintest hint of amusement in Audrey’s eyes. She tries to play tough, but she’s the biggest pushover when it comes to me.
“And what happens if I strike out?” I taunt and cross my arms over my chest for effect.
“Oh, you don’t want to know, missy!” she exclaims, chuckling despite herself.
Audrey turns and flips her curtain of straight black hair over her shoulder. She picks up a leather skirt off the bed and tips her head in concentration. At first glance, I thought it was leather, but now I’m not so sure. Plastic? Rubber?
“On to more important things,” she says, “Does this skirt say ‘come hither’ or ‘come visit me on my corner’?”
I burst out laughing and rip the offensive garment from her grasp. “Corner, definitely!”
“Hmmm, back to the drawing board,” she complains as she opens her closet door.
Let the endless primping begin…
After an eternity of heels, lip gloss, and liquid eyeliner, Audrey grabs her clutch off the dresser and gives me a once-over.
“All good?” she asks, and I nod in agreement. “Let’s rock this bitch.”
She turns the knob, and I touch her elbow to stop her forward movement.
“Wait for me downstairs?” I ask. I see her hackles raising before my eyes. “I’ll only be a minute, Audrey. I just want to say goodbye, okay?”
She groans and shakes her head. “Ugh, fine, but I’m timing your ass. He’s probably buried in numbers and equations, anyway. He won’t even hear you.”
I smile in thanks as she places her clutch under her arm and bounds down the stairs. She’s not wrong. My Lucas tends to get lost in his work, but I admire that about him. Physics is way out of my realm of understanding, but it just clicks for him.
Northern U, and a long list of other colleges, began contacting Lucas when he was a sophomore in high school. Early testing scores were through the roof, and that trend continued through high school. The only reason Lucas is not at MIT or some equally prestigious college is because he refused to leave me behind. He went as far as to refuse Northern U’s offer to pay his room and board, instead opting to commute each day and live at home. It’s only a thirty-minute drive, but it’s a million miles to me. We’ve had more arguments than I can count about what he’s giving up for me.
I can still hear his response when I begged him to go and follow his dreams. Never, Celia. I’ll never leave without you. I promise you.
I stand outside his closed door and lift my fist to knock. I hear faint mumbling filtering from the room, and I wonder if he’s on the phone. I tap and wait for his invitation to enter. I knock more loudly after a few moments, figuring he must not have heard me the first time since there’s no break in his conversation. His voice stops at my second attempt.
“Come in,” he calls out, and I turn the knob to peek my head in.
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you goodbye. Are you on the phone? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Lucas is sitting at his desk, facing the window, but his face is turned to me. He looks preoccupied, but his face lights up when he sees me. He pushes back in the chair and meets me in the doorway.
“Of course not, Celia. You could never bother me. It’s nothing important.” He grabs my hands and raises them as he studies me. “God, how could I forget to tell you how beautiful you look? You always take my breath away.”
His words run through me, warming me to the core. I step closer, into his welcoming embrace. I’m tiny in comparison to his six-foot frame, only reaching his chest. His arms are shelter … safety.
“You’ll come back here after the party? Maybe sneak up into my room? You know, maybe we could…” His words trail off in a rare moment of shyness. I gasp when his lips brush against my neck, a slight tease of his tongue following behind.
“I’ll sneak away as soon as I can,” I say on a sigh, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“Promise you won’t leave me all alone?” His eyes dance with amusement, but I see a deeper insecurity I don’t quite understand.
I look at him … in him … through him, and see the boy I dreamed of, the teenager I crushed on, the young man I’d give my life for.
“I promise, Lucas. I’ll never leave you alone.” A small smile dances on my lips as my hand reaches around his waist and grabs at his very tight cheek. “And we can definitely…”
“Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon
Present Day
I CLOSE MY eyes and inhale a gulp of fresh country air, tipping my head toward the sun. The only sound for miles is the lapping water—just the way I like it. Saturday mornings at the pond are a ritual for me. My family owns more than their fair share of land in and around Providence, but no spot is sweeter than this acreage. With a fully stocked bass pond and hundred year old live oak trees tailor-made for fishing and napping under, this is a country boy’s dream spot. It’s damn near orgasmic.
I prop my feet on the edge of the boat and take a good look at my less-than-stellar cousin, Will. He’s a sophomore at Northern U, and he takes after his older and much wiser cousin in the partying department. I pretty much poured his drunk ass into the truck this morning. His baseball cap is pulled low, the brim hiding his inevitably closed eyes, and I swear to Christ I can smell the day-old whiskey seeping from his pores.
“So tell me what’s been going on, my man. How’s living in the Alpha Omega house?” My voice is two octaves higher than necessary, but his wince spurs me on. If he’s stupid enough to come to my pond still drunk from the night before, I’m gonna fuck with him.
“Could you just,” he whispers while squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Just tone it down about ten levels, man.”
“Not gonna happen, dude. You know me better than that. How about a beer? A little hair of the dog?” I ask, lifting a beer from the ice chest as I grab my own. All I get in response is a glare. At least I think he’s glaring, but it’s hard to tell with the hat in the way. I shrug my shoulders and take a pull off my beer. His loss. “I need to know about this epic night of partying that has left you the shadow of a man I see before me. What the hell happened?”
Will lifts his hat and grins lazily. “It was fucking epic. It started out with a beer pong tournament and ended at this chick’s apartment, passing a bong.”
“Is that so? Hmmmm … who’s the chick? Anyone you need to tell me about?”
Could I lecture him about the bong? Yeah, but I choose to keep my mouth shut. I’ve been there. Nothing ever came of it, and I realized early on it wasn’t my gig. I’m gonna let Will learn that lesson on his own, but I’m sure as hell going to keep a closer eye on him going forward. I want to make sure this is just a phase and nothing more.
“Not my girl. My buddy, Carson, hooked up with her,” he says as he starts coming back to the land of living, bit by tiny bit. A smirk plays on his lips. “That’s done, though. He said she’s a gumbo pot.”
“The fuck?” I’ve never heard a woman referred to as a gumbo pot, but I’m pretty sure it’s less-than-complimentary, if Will’s expression is any indication.
“You know, Cain, a gumbo pot. Once you stick your dick in, you have to stir it around to hit the other side. A loose bitch.”
Before he finishes his last sentence, I smash my empty can of beer on my leg and pelt him in the head with the hunk of aluminum. I tag him pretty good on his ear and his hand springs up to cover it.
“What the hell, man?”
“Don’t ever let me hear you talk about a woman that way again.” I curl my lip in disgust and clench my fists, restraining myself from knocking some sense into him. “You know better than that, Will. I’ve taught you better than that.”
And I have. I may be a serial dater—hooking up and moving on without ever planting real roots—but I never disrespect women. I treat my women like queens, no matter how short their reign on the throne may be.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Cain, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t say it; Carter did. I know I shouldn’t have repeated it,” he explains, and I can tell he wishes he could take it back.
“No, you shouldn’t have. Ya know what you should’ve done when that douchebag ran his mouth? You should have asked him what the fuck is wrong with his spoon.” I reel in my line and bait my empty hook before recasting.
My phone chimes, alerting me to a new text.
“His spoon?”
“That’s what I said,” I reply as I open up my messages and see a text from Adam. “When guys complain about the ‘pot,’ it has more to do with size of the spoon. That should shut the pencil dick up.”
Will howls in laughter as I read Adam’s message. We have plans to hit the bar tonight. Once a month, his parents take Lily and Gage on weekend adventures. We usually make adult plans of our own.
Celia’s coming tonight. You don’t mind, right?
Well, shit. I guess it doesn’t matter if I mind or not, since he’s already asked her. I know he and Celia have become fast friends, in addition to being neighbors, but I’ve kept a safe distance these last few months after our awkward first meeting. I don’t have anything against the girl; I just don’t want to spend my Saturday night apologizing.
“I can’t wait to shut Carson up. He needs to be taken down a few notches, if you ask me,” Will says with a chuckle.
“Huh?” I ask, my mind preoccupied with visions of my asshat behavior around a certain fairy. “Oh, yeah, set that fucker straight, Will. He shouldn’t be saying those things about that girl; I don’t care if her pussy makes the Grand Canyon look like a ditch. A real man keeps that shit to himself.”
Will nods in agreement and looks at me with a genuine level of respect. I’m glad he still values my opinion instead of following the masses of dickheads in his frat. He’s a good kid; he just needs a little direction and guidance.
I settle back into my seat and refocus on catching some bass, feeling my job here is done. I can only hope my night out goes as well as the morning…
I rap my knuckles on the door and walk inside without waiting for permission. I know Adam doesn’t have a chick inside, because if he did, there’s no way he’d be going out with me tonight. I can hear the strumming of a guitar from out on the porch, and I can’t hold back my eye roll and smirk.
“God, man, you are such a clichéd douche. Save the tortured musician act for the bar. I don’t have a vagina, so no need to impress me.”
I round the corner, into the living room, and my eyes settle on a sparkling fairy with wide eyes and a pretty pink mouth, set in the shape of an “O.” She’s perched on the edge of Adam’s sofa, her pale yellow dress barely reaching the tops of her knees.
Why do I always make a supreme ass out of myself anytime this girl is around?
I grip the back of my neck and shake my head. I hear a low, amused chuckle coming from Adam, and I shoot him an irritated frown.
Before I can launch into my litany of excuses and apologies, Celia bursts out laughing. “You had better not be trying to get in my pants, Adam Hunt, or so help me, I’ll wrap those guitar strings around your sweet little neck.”
Celia’s unexpected sass stuns me into silence, and believe me, that’s no easy feat. I’m usually the master of smartass. My comebacks have comebacks.
“Aw, you know you want a piece of this, Celia. Don’t try to deny it,” Adam motions seductively down his chest. In pure douche fashion, he winks and juts his chin out in her direction.
“Oh my God, I think I just vomited a little in my mouth,” she says, wrapping her delicate fingers around her neck and making the universal choking sign. “Are there women that actually fall for that drivel?”
“Like moths to the flame. Bees to honey. Like … like,” Adam says as he waves his hand trying to conjure the words.
My head flits back and forth between them as I watch this ping-pong match of digs, and I love it. This girl just may be able to hold her own with Adam and me after all. She may not be as fragile as I thought.
“Crabs to the crotch?” she fires back with a belly laugh. “Tone it down a skoch, Rico Suave.”
“Whew, crabs to the crotch. That’s a wrap. She got you, man. Just surrender,” I say as my shoulders shake with laughter.
After setting down his guitar, Adam raises his hands and bows his head. “I’ll keep my crabs to myself, I promise, Celia. Besides, Lily and Gage would kill me if you stopped coming around. You are firmly in my no-date zone.”
“Damn straight. Those munchkins love Aunt Cece.” She shrugs her shoulders and tips her head to the side. “Cain, I hope you don’t mind if I tag along. I promise, I won’t be too much trouble.” She turns to face me and flutters her eyelashes sweetly—a little too sweetly. I’m pretty damn sure she’s playing me.
“Nah, Tink, I don’t mind,” I say with a wave of my hand and an “aw shucks” expression.
And damn if it isn’t the truth. Initially, I was irritated with Adam for inviting her, but right now, in this moment, I’m cool with it. I’m cool with her. As far as I’m concerned, the fairy can stay.
As we file out the front door, I hear Adam whisper, “You know I don’t really have crabs, right?”
Never one to miss an opportunity to mess with him, I chime right in. “You don’t have to lie to kick it, dude. We still love you.”
“I have noticed you pulling on it a lot,” Celia adds with wide innocent eyes. “Totally makes sense now.”
“Ah, fuck y’all, man.”
Yeah, she’ll fit right in…
