J.C. and the Bijoux Jolis: The Rousseaus #3 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 14) (5 page)

And then, one day, after Mahjongg at his mother’s house with the girls, you’ll pick up a gun and blow your brains out from sheer boredom.

Wincing from the rawness of the thought, she swallowed, leaning away from him, careful to conceal the sharp disappointment she felt inside. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Neil. She’d sooner drown puppies or pull the wings off butterflies.

“So?” she asked brightly, forcing a pleasant mood. “What are we up to tonight?”

He grinned at her, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and reaching into the back pocket of his black slacks. He held up two tickets.

“I was thinking…Shakespeare in the park.”

“Neil!” she exclaimed, feeling genuinely excited and guilty for her previous thoughts. Neil
wasn’t
boring. She’d mentioned on their previous date that she loved Shakespeare and here was Neil,
thoughtful
Neil, doing something chosen especially for her. He was solid and kind and dependable, and those were good things. Excellent things. “Which play?”

He waggled his eyebrows in a move that he probably thought was charming but made Libitz groan and sigh inside.

“
A Midsummer’s Night Dream
!”

With startling speed, her mind segued back to Kate’s wedding reception, to a deep, lightly accented French voice—
Though she be but little, she is fierce!
—J.C.’s lips on hers, his palm cupping the fullness of her breast, his fingers rolling her nipple, his erection straining against her drenched sex, his—

“Libitz?” questioned Neil, reaching out to touch her arm.

“What?” she whispered, reaching up to palm her cheeks and drop her gaze to the floor.

Today Kate had invited her to a housewarming party over the upcoming Labor Day weekend. She and Étienne were buying an estate not far from where Étienne grew up, and Libitz promised that she would go down to Philly for the weekend to help set up Noelle’s nursery and spend some time with Kate.

After they’d hung up, for most of the afternoon, Libitz had been distracted by the idea that she’d be seeing J.C. again in a few short weeks. Moments of breathless anticipation and excitement would follow furious promises to herself not to go anywhere near J.C. unless it was absolutely beyond avoidance.

While perusing the first draft of her gallery’s new catalog for fall, she lost herself in memories of his tongue sliding against hers, the way it felt to be trapped in the strength of his embrace, his heart beating wildly under her flattened palms. Then, just as she was about to search for him on Facebook, she’d jerked the computer plug out of the wall so she couldn’t.

“Libitz?
A Midsummer’s Night Dream
?”

“No,” she answered softly, still distracted by a deluge of memories about a man she wanted to forget.

“No?”

She winced, lifting her eyes from her shoes and looking up at Neil as she lowered her hands. “I’m…sorry. I don’t—I don’t feel very well. My head aches…”

“You seemed fine a minute ago.”

She took a deep breath and sighed, tilting her head to the side, searching his kind brown eyes. “You’re too good for me, Neil.”

He stared back at her for an unexpectedly intense moment before reaching for her hand. “Give me a chance, Lib. Don’t cut me lose yet.”

The simple sweetness of his words impacted her, and she tried to smile for him but found she couldn’t. “But I should. I should cut you lose right now.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

Taking her other hand, he pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back gently. “Forget the play. Let’s go get a bowl of spaghetti, huh? A glass of Chianti? You don’t even have to talk. I’ll talk. You can ignore me if you want.”

“What good would that be?” she asked, closing her eyes, finding herself calmed by the slow, even motion of his palm against her back.

“It’ll be good for me,” he said, “because you’ll be sitting across from me.”

She leaned back, looking into his hopeful face and feeling terrible that she was distracted by another man who was so woefully unequal to Neil.

“You’re too—”

“—good for you?” he finished. “No.”

Dropping his lips to hers, he kissed her gently for the first time. Lips to lips. No tongue. No demands. No passion. No control. Just a sweet touch of skin to skin to make her stop talking, to let her know that he wasn’t ready to let go of her after only three weeks of dating. “I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m willing to take the risk. You?”

How could she say no? He was sweet and sturdy, selfless and simple, kind and thoughtful. He was everything that every woman could ever want, and fuck, but she wished it was enough.

She nodded. “Sounds nice.”

He tore the tickets in half and placed the pieces on the edge of her desk. “Then let’s get going.”

***

J.C. had almost been late to dinner, but luckily the traffic had been leaner than usual, and he’d made it out of the city in good time. Pulling up to Le Chateau, he cut the engine and admired the flowers that someone had planted around the fountain in the center of the driveway. Looking up at the front portico, he realized that the improvements in greenery didn’t end there—large urns of flowers greeted him on either side of the front door too.

He considered walking right in for a moment but thought better of it. This wasn’t his childhood home anymore. It was Jax and Gard’s home and he needed to respect the new owners by letting them welcome him.

He rang the bell and Jax swept open the double doors, grinning from ear to ear at her eldest sibling. “
Bonsoir
!”

“
Bonsoir, doudou
,” he said, using a nickname that he’d given the girls when they were little. He bussed each cheek and inhaled deeply. “Gard’s cooking?”

“Mm-hm. Gumbo.”

“Thank fuck. The last time you cooked, I chipped a tooth on the steak and lost a layer of skin, the corn was so hot.”

He grinned at her to let her know he was teasing. As much as J.C. and his siblings gave each other a hard time, they’d die for each other too.

“I never claimed to be a chef,” she said, relieving him of the bottle of wine in his hands. “By the way, remind me to show you something.”

“What?” he asked, mildly curious, since this was the second time she’d mentioned it. “Nothing. Just…a painting. I found it in the attic. It’s probably nothing, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know. There’s something about it.” She shrugged, waving her free hand. “Later. For now, come and sit. Étienne and Kate look like they’re about to jump out of their skin. I think they’re moving, and they don’t know how to tell us.”

J.C. frowned, feeling unsettled, and followed Jax into the game room, where J.C. had bested his little brother in every Nintendo game known to man. This wasn’t good news. He liked having Ten, Jax, and Mad close. He’d go so far as to admit he
needed
them close. He hated the idea of Ten and Kate moving away.

“Moving? Are you sure?”

“I don’t know,” said Jax in a singsong voice. “What
else
could it be? Étienne knows you’ll freak if they move.”

They entered through the double doors together, and Mad jumped up to hug her brother. “Hey, stranger.”

“You look good,
petite
,” said J.C., kissing her cheeks before looking into her eyes. “Had fun in London?”

Her complexion changed from pink to red, answering his question in a way that made him hope that Cort Ambler was serious about Mad and not just playing around. Because big fucking woe to Cort if he made Mad look like this and didn’t follow through.

“Yes,” she said. “Lots.”

“When’s he back?”

“Labor Day,” she said, sighing with longing. “But he’s coming home the weekend after next to see me.”

“For how long?” asked J.C., nodding with approval.

“Long enough,” said Mad cheekily. “I’m meeting him in New York from Friday to Sunday.”

“If you need anything,” said Kate from the couch, “I’ll give you Lib’s number.”

“Thanks,” said Mad, turning to smile at Kate. “How is Libitz? I barely got to talk to her at your wedding, but she seems so interesting!”

“She’s great! I just talked to her this morning,” said Kate, grinning meaningfully at Étienne before looking back at Mad, Jax, and J.C., who stood shoulder to shoulder before them. Kate giggled softly, “Do you want to tell them or should I?”

“My turn,” said Étienne, kissing Kate’s temple tenderly before standing up.

“So we wanted to tell you that—”

“You’re moving!” cried Jax.

“No,” said Ten, shaking his head, his face confused. “Well, actually, yes. We are. We’re moving out of the city to a place we found here in Haverford, but—”

“We guessed it!” said Mad to her twin. “Well, we
knew
you were moving—”

“But we were afraid you were going farther away,” said Jax, stepping forward to hug Étienne. “Thank God you’re sticking around! We’ll be neighbors!”

“Um,” said Kate, standing up beside Étienne, “that isn’t the only news.”

“There’s more?” asked J.C., who’d gotten momentarily distracted at the mention of Libitz, who was doing “great” and probably hadn’t given him so much as a second thought since the wedding, while he’d been cursed with vibrant, all-too-frequent memories of her.

“What news?” Jax released her brother, stepping back to shift her eyes back and forth between Kate and Étienne. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” growled Étienne. “Yes! I’m fine!”

“Then what is it?” asked Mad, concern written all over her face.

Kate took her husband’s arm, grinning at her sisters and brother-in-law. “We’re having a baby!”

Jax and Mad gasped in unison, and Étienne turned to look at his wife, caressing her face with his eyes before dropping a sweet kiss to her lips. “You stole my thunder,
chaton
.”

“You were taking too long,” she said, kissing him back.

Jax threw her arms around Étienne again, while Mad embraced Kate, and J.C., standing just behind his sisters, stared awkwardly at his celebrating siblings.

A baby.

His little brother was having a kid.

Over Jax’s shoulder, Étienne looked up at him, and J.C. shook his head as though clearing it, then plastered a smile on his face, nodding at his brother with approval.

“
Félicitations
,” he said, and Étienne reached for him, pulling him into the hug he was already sharing with Jax.

When Mad finally released her sister-in-law, J.C. hugged Kate gently, kissing her cheeks and wishing her congratulations, but inside he was reeling. This wasn’t just Ten and Kate getting married or Jax and Mad finding serious boyfriends. This was a kid. A person. A new generation of Rousseaus. He was going to be someone’s uncle. And it made his chest constrict with an uncomfortable, unfamiliar emotion that felt way too big for him to hold inside.

“Champagne!” exclaimed Mad, hurrying to the kitchen while Jax followed her to share the good news with Gard, leaving J.C. with the soon-to-be parents.

“I’m glad we have you alone for a second,” said Étienne, sitting back down on the couch beside Kate and taking her hand in his. “There’s something we wanted to ask you.”

J.C. lowered himself to the coffee table before them. “Anything you need.”

“We need a godfather for Noelle,” said Kate, her sweet lips smiling at him. “And we want it to be you.”

“Who’s Noelle?” he asked, staring back and forth between them, trying like fuck to process what was happening, what they were asking of him.

Étienne chuckled. “We didn’t get to share that part yet. Kate’s sixteen weeks along. We’re having a girl.”

J.C. gasped with surprised. “You already know?”

Kate nodded, placing her free hand over her belly. “We found out this morning.”

“So Noelle is…”

“Our daughter,” said Étienne, resting his hand gently over Kate’s before looking back up at his brother. “Your niece.”

“My…”
niece.
He couldn’t even say it. It felt too strange. Too huge. One little word that expanded his heart, adding a little room next to Étienne’s in his heart. “Wait. You’re asking
me
to be your daughter’s godfather? But…”

His heart started racing as he stared at them, their words, their request, taking shape in his mind. Not only his niece but his
goddaughter
. A little someone who would look up to him, look to him for protection and comfort, for guidance and direction, a little girl who would—

He flinched, sitting back from them.

No. Wait.

He thought about his track record with women, his penchant for screwing and leaving, his determination never to commit to anyone. What kind of a role model was he?

He looked up at his little brother gravely, panic making his lungs constrict. There was no way on God’s green earth that he was the right man for the job.