Last First Kiss (28 page)

He gave her a gracious nod. “For you...anytime.”

They ate their soup while listening to country music playing softly in the background.

He took his last bite and put the spoon down. “That does it for me. How are you feeling?”

“
Better, it hit the spot.”

After they’d cleaned the kitchen she looked up at him. “I’ll take that song now.”

“
What song?”

“
The one you said you’d sing for me if I asked you to.”

“
You said we could sing one together,” he reminded her.

“
Did I?” she asked slyly, as he nodded.

She got up from the island and went to her computer. He stood over her while she was searching for a particular song.

“
Do you know
Another Try
by Josh Turner and Trisha Yearwood?”

“
The song, not the lyrics,” he answered.

She went online and printed out the lyrics. “Here, listen to it once with the lyrics in front of you. Then we’ll play it again and sing it. It’s easier to sing a duet than solo.”

He tensed up immediately. “I don’t know about this.”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on Jackson, you’ll never conquer your fears if you don’t try. It’s easier if you close your eyes.”

They listened to it once then she started it over. Jackson closed his eyes, and at his cue to start singing he hesitated slightly then began to sing in perfect pitch, although softly. After the first four lines, his eyes flew open as Giselle began to harmonize in a sweet, clear voice. Her singing with him gave him the courage to continue, and by the time the song ended, all Jackson’s signs of discomfort had disappeared.

Giselle got so caught up in listening to him sing that she forgot to sing the harmony for the last stanza. When the music finally ended, they stood there in her kitchen, looking into each other’s eyes. He raised his right hand slowly to cup her chin and push lightly to close her mouth.

He grinned down at her. “You were supposed to be singing.”

“
I know,” she said, shaking herself out of the daze. “I was so impressed that I forgot to jump in,” she stammered. “You sing beautifully, Jackson.”

“
Thank you, Ma’am. So do you.” He gently pushed a strand of hair away from her brow. “Now, Giselle...What are we going to do for the rest of the weekend?”

Her brow lifted at the reference to ‘we’. “I don’t know.”

“
Someone else is enjoying our vacation, so we may as well have some fun. God knows you’ve earned it,” he added.

She nodded, still trying to shake off her reaction to his singing.
Think of something else.
She made a show of looking around
.
“Do you see the phone anywhere? I really want to talk to my girls.” He handed her the phone and she plopped herself on the sofa to call Bill. They were at a restaurant on the River Walk so she kept the conversation brief, told them she loved them, and hung up. She was quiet afterward, and shrugged when Jackson caught her wiping a tear from her eye.

He crouched next to her, placing one hand gently on her shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

She nodded once before giving a contrasting shake of her head. “They didn’t even sound like they missed me,” she said, sobbing quietly into her hands.

Jackson laughed as he grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. “Aw hon, they missed you. Those girls called here three times while you were still sick.”

She nodded and wiped another tear away. “I guess I’m just a little lonesome. I’ve never been away from my girls this long before.” She wrung her tissue and looked around. “And I’m wondering what I’m going to do while I’m alone in this big old house for the next two days.”

“
I’ll keep you occupied. While you were sleeping, I wondered if you would feel up to a bike ride tomorrow.”

She gasped, unable to hide her excitement. “Could we?”

He laughed at her reaction. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”

She frowned in concentration. “I have no idea; I could meet you at your place.”

Jackson wondered how much of her suggestion had something to do with her not wanting people in Kenton to see them together. “There are lots of great roads out by Uncle Bill’s.”

“
What time do you want me there?”

“
It’s cooler in the mornings, so how about around nine?”

“
I’ll be there.” She gave him a huge smile.

“
Great, I need to get home to take care of some things.” He walked to the utility room to get his clothes from her dryer.

“
It’s a good thing you had extra clothes,” she said.

“
I keep extra sets of workout clothes in my truck.” He stepped into her guest bathroom to change.

He walked out looking sexy as hell in his jeans and tee shirt, his hair slightly tousled. Giselle reached up to smooth his dark locks and their eyes met for a brief second.

When he opened the back door, she looked past him. “Why is Carrie’s car here?”

“
We didn’t want your nosy neighbor to talk, so Sam drove it over and brought my truck to his house. Your reputation is intact.”

“
That was considerate of you, but she’s out of town all week. I owe you big for this one, Jackson.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

He hugged her back. “Next time I’m nauseous, I’ll call you, so you can hold my head while I puke in a bucket.”

She smiled into his tee shirt. “You got it.”

Jackson placed a hand on her head, and pressed her gently to his chest. “Besides, I promised Lex I wouldn’t leave your side.” He placed a gentle kiss on her crown before resting his chin on it. He took a deep breath and pulled away from her, mumbling that he needed to go, and walked quickly outside.

Giselle waved as she watched him back out of her drive, then closed and locked her door. She turned to study the living area, now desolate and entirely too large without Jackson’s presence. She hugged herself, suddenly aware that the feeling wasn’t nearly as pleasant as having Jackson’s arms wrapped tightly around her.

CHAPTER 17

At 8:45 the next morning, Giselle ran screeching to Jackson’s front door. It opened just in time for her to run right into his open arms. Jackson spun her away from the snapping, snarling animal and yelled until the dog ran back to its own porch.

“
Hold on, I’ll be right back,” Jackson said, before stalking over to his neighbor’s house. He rang the doorbell several times until a younger man of about twenty-five or so finally answered, wearing a pair of boxers and no shirt.

Jackson pointed his finger at him. “The next time your dog attacks someone in my yard
I’m
going to do something about it. You keep his ass chained up, or else.”

The young man stepped out onto the porch full of congenial bravado. “Dude! Brutus is harmless...He’s all bark and no bite.”

Jackson backed the younger man up against the stucco exterior of his porch. His tone was low and menacing. “My name is Jackson Broussard, and you can call me Jackson...Mr. Broussard...Or
sir
...But don’t you
ever
call me dude. From here on out, whenever I see
that
dog, he’d better damned well be on a leash, and
your
ass had better damned well be on the other end of it. You got that?”

“
Y..Ye..Yes sir..I’ll keep him chained up from now on,” the terrified younger man stammered.

Giselle, who had been watching from Jackson’s porch, backed into the doorway when he made his way back to his own home.

“
I’ll kill that dog if he comes after you again!”

Giselle placed a calming hand on his arm. “Don’t kill the dog because of the owner’s stupidity. I’d feel terrible.”

“
Yeah? Well you’d feel worse if he bit you, don’t you think?” he said, irritably. “I wouldn’t kill the dog, but I would have him picked up. What if he attacked Lex and Mac?”

A look passed over Giselle’s face. “Then
I’d
kill him.”

“
You see? It’s not right that it’s allowed to run loose, and that guy doesn’t seem to give a damn!”

She smiled up at him. “Do you feel better, now?”

He shook his head, and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, but I miss my old neighbors. Ready to go?” he asked as she nodded.

He walked into his utility room and came out with a new helmet. “Try this on. I guessed at the size.”

“
Thanks, it fits perfectly,” she said after she slipped it on over her head and tightened the strap.

In less than five minutes, they turned onto the highway that led out toward Bill’s place. The roadway was a nice, smooth, asphaltic surface that made it nice to ride on. Jackson picked up speed and it felt as though they were gliding on air. Giselle could feel the sun on her shoulders and the tops of her thighs, and wished she’d remembered her sun block.

<><><>

Jackson pushed the bike a little harder, picking up speed, forcing her to hold on tightly. He reveled in the feeling of her arms wrapped around his waist and her long, tanned legs pressed up against him. He wondered how he would survive being in her presence all day and not go crazy from wanting her.

They drove for an hour, up and down winding country roads. They passed fields of rice, nearly ready for harvest, and pastures with peacefully grazing cattle. She pointed out a pasture where horses ran freely, and he stopped so they could watch a foal run on its spindly legs.

He noticed her checking out her shoulders for burning and pulled the bike off the road. They dismounted and he opened one hard case storage compartment to pull out a tube of sun block.

“You might need this,” he said, handing it to her.

“Thanks, I didn’t even think of it before I left the house,” she said, accepting the tube.

He watched her apply the sun block to her shoulders and arms, but once she began rubbing it on her long legs, he found the act so erotic that he had to walk away. He heard her call his name and turned to see her holding the tube out to him.

“Could you put some on my back, please? I don’t want to get a tan line.”

“Sure,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt. She turned in front of him as he put some lotion in his hands. He rubbed it onto her upper back, bared from the tank top she wore, and slid one finger slowly under the edge of the shirt to spread the lotion evenly. Enjoying himself, he applied more lotion to his fingers and spread it under the straps of her top. His breath stopped when he saw the goose bumps rise on her bare flesh. From his vantage point, he noticed her breathing speed up to allow for her quickening pulse. Slowly, he removed his hand from her tantalizing skin and cleared his throat before turning away.

Jackson put the lotion back in the storage compartment, and swung his leg over the bike, feeling her gaze on him. He started the bike and waited for her to join him, thankful the helmets shield hid all evidence of churning emotions. Once she climbed on behind him, he turned his head toward her. “Are you ready, Giselle?”

She leaned over so he could see her and nodded.

They rode on for another hour, until they came to a century old oak tree with a plaque near it. He pulled up slowly and turned off the ignition, then used the kickstand to rest the heavy bike.

He helped her climb off then dismounted himself. He set both their helmets on the seat and walked slowly to meet her. “You’re not hurting, are you?”

She rubbed her backside and grimaced. “My butt is sore, but I think I’ll live. My body has gone through some changes since I last rode a bike.”

“It couldn’t have changed that much.”

“After two children, you bet your ass it has.”

“If that’s true, I wish I’d known you back then.” Jackson smiled as a blush stained her cheeks. The gentleman in him made him redirect the conversation. “Hey, what did you think of that Marc Broussard CD I gave you?”

“I loved it!” she said. “He’s got a funky rhythm and blues sound. Very original.”

“You know, he’s playing in Lafayette tonight.”

She nodded. “I did see that he’s going to be at some club called
Red’s
.”

He walked around to stretch his legs. “It’s opening tonight, and I hear it’s very nice. It happens that I have a personal invitation from the owner, if you’re interested.”