Listen To Your Heart (18 page)

Read Listen To Your Heart Online

Authors: Fern Michaels

“I guess our little brood is safe and sound.”
“They're happy,” Josie said with a catch in her voice. “My mother always said real, true love was making sure the other person was happy. I think she was right.”
“Ha! I
know
she was right. I wish I had known your mother.”
“I wish you had, too. She would have liked you. I think you would have liked her, too.”
“You can use this bathroom. I'll use the one across the hall,” Paul said.
“Okay.” Josie turned around. “I love you, Paul Brouillette. I think you should know that.”
“I love you, too, Josie Dupré. I think you should know that, too.”
The wind outside the bedroom lifted, stirring the branches of the old oak tree, making it sway in an endless rhythm. The black night sky touched with stars was like a coverlet drawn over the old house when Paul turned off the lamp. They were alone, two souls, finding each other, getting to know each other all over again.
Naked together, they clung, kissing, murmuring, lips moving softly against lips. Her flesh came alive under his touch, her excitement and passion communicating with and stirring his own.
She was his love. He had held her this way before, just hours ago, worshiping at her breasts and taking possession of her innermost core, yet she excited and stirred him as if it were the first time. There was so much more to Josie than fair skin and alluring curves; there was the woman within, the woman he now knew he could not live without. He pulled her on top of him, wanting her to master their desire.
Wild blood coursed through her veins, her aching need for him cried within her soul. This was the man she loved.
Slowly he filled her with himself, and she opened to him, moving with him, imprisoning him in love's tender sheath. She whimpered softly, loving the feel of his body, responding to the sound of his tender whispers when he told her of her beauty and the way he loved the scent that was only hers.
He savored her lips, tasting the ambrosia of passion's fruit, tantalizing, withdrawing from her and entering again with slow, sensuous strokes and the caressing roll of his hips beneath her haunches. He inspired her to ride him, to take him deep within, helping her find the sweet fulfillment at the center of her being. His loving hands possessed her breasts, cupping their firmness, following their lovely slope to tease the pouting crests.
Fire sparked where their flesh joined, but it was only kindling to the raging conflagration of their souls. And when their lips met again, they tasted the salt of tears, and each thought it was their own.
Together they slept in one another's arms. And when they awoke in the early hours before dawn, they made love again and again.
 
Over coffee Paul leaned across his newly decorated table, his gaze locking with Josie's. He reached for her hand. “I don't know if I can wait till January or next year to get married. Why can't we get married now? Soon. Give me one good reason.”
“I don't have a dress.”
“Oh.”
“A dress is important. It has to be just right. It has to say Josie Dupré is getting married in this one-of-a-kind dress. I would like my friends at my wedding. I'll have to track down a lot of them, as they move about. That takes time. Unless we have the wedding at your house or my house, we have to rent a hall. Usually they're reserved in advance. We'll need a caterer since I have no intention of catering my own wedding. August would be the earliest. Maybe July. No sooner. I don't want to get married on the fly and regret it later. I want it to be like my mother's wedding. If we start out right, then everything should fall into place for us. That's what my mother said, and I believed her then and still do. I'm no prude, but I can't move in with you either. I just can't do that. Do you understand?”
“Of course I do. I don't want you getting away from me.”
“Look at me, Paul. Do you think for one minute I'm going to get away from you? No way. I found you, and I'm hanging on to you. We have two dogs to think about. Sleepovers are good.”
Paul grinned. “Yes, they are. What's on your agenda for today?”
“Work. Kitty will be back. We have a cocktail party scheduled for late this afternoon. When that's over, we have to get ready for a champagne breakfast at the Rotary Club tomorrow morning. I won't be able to see you tonight.”
“Then it works out. I have a meeting scheduled for six tonight that's going to run a couple of hours. How about dinner and a movie tomorrow night?”
“Not good. We have to spend more time with the dogs. How about if I rent some videos and I get Kitty to whip us up something at my house. Then the dogs and I will walk you home and we can start out early for Lafayette. Did you come up with anything in regard to your niece?”
“No. I'm just going to tell it to her the way I see it. I have a really positive feeling about it. I don't want to make any mistakes. I hope I'm doing the right thing by not telling my mother until I'm sure.”
“If she doesn't want to come back with us, what will you do, Paul?”
“Then I'll tell my mother and explain her reasoning, whatever it may be. My mother can give her and her son a really good life. I hope she's mature enough to recognize and understand how important family is. I'm anxious about the meeting. I think seeing you with me will help a lot. By the way, my new client—my only client—doesn't like my ponytail.”
“Oh pooh on him. I love it. You can tell him that, too. What is he, one of those ex-military guys with a buzz cut?”
“How did you know?”
“Just a wild guess. You'll be late if you don't hurry. I'll lock up here and take the dogs to my house. I think they're getting the hang of it. They do love us, you know.”
“How do you think they'll be with kids?”
Josie's heart fluttered. “I think they'll both be wonderful with kids.”
“Then on that note, I'm leaving. I'm not kissing you good-bye today either.”
Josie laughed. “'Fraidy cat.”
“That's me.”
“Go on before I make a lunge for you. I want your body! Go!”
Josie could hear him laughing all the way to his car.
God, I'm happy.
 
“If this map the detective gave you is right, the apartment complex should be about a mile ahead. This rain is terrible. The weatherman said sunny and warm,” Josie grumbled as she tried to peer through the driving rain.
“They never get it right. Maybe it's a good thing. You don't usually take a child out in rain like this.”
“Do you know what you're going to do if your brother-in-law is home?”
“The detective said he works Saturday. That was another reason I wanted to wait until today. I called my mother yesterday from work, but she wasn't home. I just wanted her to know I was back in New Orleans although I'm sure André told her by now. I left a message, but she didn't return my call. Why is that, Josie?”
“She thinks you only call her when you have nothing else to do or, as she put it, you fit her into your schedule. It's possible she was at the plant clearing out her things. André did tell her you were selling it, didn't he?”
“Of course he told her. Nicely and kindly. She went ballistic. We knew that would happen. I'm sure she's calmed down by now. In the end we had to think about all the other families who work for us in the other divisions.”
“I'm sure she understands. She is, after all, a businesswoman.”
“A seventy-four-year-old businesswoman. Her judgments are no longer sound. She lets her heart rule her head. That's not such a bad thing, but when it starts to affect the rest of the companies, then it's time to make hard decisions. It's a done deal, so there's no turning back. Is this the entrance?”
“Yes. Drive down to the second building, turn right, and it's building 4022. The apartment is on the first floor—401. Do you want me to wait in the car?”
“Absolutely not. I'm just sorry you're going to get wet.”
“Not to worry. I'll tie my hair up in a knot. Okay, let's make a run for it!” Holding hands, they sprinted from the car, slopping through puddles till they came to an overhang, where they checked the arrows with the printed apartment numbers. “This is it,” Josie said, pointing to the apartment door to the left. Ring the bell, Paul.”
Paul licked at his lips and rang the bell. A dog barked inside. The speckled dog in the picture.
She is pretty just like her mother,
Paul thought. “Nancy, I'm your uncle Paul Brouillette. This is Josie Dupré. Can we come inside? I'd like to talk to you. I can show you identification if you like.” The young woman nodded. Paul opened his wallet and fished out his driver's license. She stared at it intently for a minute or so before she removed the chain from the door.
“Come in.”
She's baking cookies,
Josie thought. Probably for the little boy who was building a castle with colored blocks in the middle of the living room floor. The speckled dog hovered protectively.
“Let me wash the flour off my hands. Please, sit down. Would you like some coffee or maybe a soft drink?”
“We're fine,” Paul said, his eyes on the dark-haired little boy. He had pictures of himself at the same age.
He looks just the way I did back then,
Paul thought.
She's so young,
Josie thought.
And yet her weary eyes say she's seen more of the world than she wanted to see.
“What do you want? My father isn't here,” the young woman said bluntly.
“I know he isn't here. That's why I waited until today to come here. I've had a private detective looking for you. I came to take you home if you want to come with us. My mother—your grandmother—has never gotten over your mother's death. She would love for you to come home with your son. I would like to see you home with the family. How do you feel about that?”
“I guess I'm surprised,” the young woman said quietly. “You didn't want us before. Why now?”
“Who told you a thing like that?” Paul demanded.
“My . . . my father. He said you all considered us baggage. He said we weren't wanted.”
“No. No, no, that's all wrong. The day your mother was buried, your father packed up, took all her money, her jewelry, and you, and left. My mother tried for years to find you. She finally gave up. I didn't. We finally were able to locate you through the boy's birth certificate. Will you please come with us?”
“My father . . . Are you telling me the truth?”
“He's telling you the truth,” Josie said quietly.
“I need to talk to my son.”
Josie and Paul watched as Nancy walked over to her son and tapped him on the shoulder before she dropped down to eye level. Her fingers flew. The boy turned to look at them and smiled before he too used his fingers to communicate. They were signing. Josie heard Paul suck in his breath.
“Can't he hear?”
“Very little. He needs an operation and will have to wear hearing aids. We only have an HMO, and they don't want to pay for it. There just isn't any money left over for . . .”
“What about your father?” Paul said through clenched teeth.
“My father gambles and drinks a lot. For the most part, I have to support him, too. I have a good job, but the pay isn't that high. With day care I just can't afford it.”
“The family will take care of it. Will you come with us?”
“You mean right now?” There was such hope in her face, Josie felt like crying.
“Right now, right this minute,” Paul said gently. “Josie will help you pack.”
“But my job . . .”
“We'll call your employer first thing Monday morning.”
“My father . . .”
“We'll leave him a note and my phone number. He doesn't deserve even that, but we'll do it anyway,” Paul said.
“The dog. The dog goes, too.”
“You're absolutely right. The dog goes, too. I wouldn't have it any other way. What's his name?”
“Ollie. Pete named him. We found him alongside the road. I guess someone dumped him out of a car. I know what that's like.”
“What about the boy's father?”
“He took off a week after Pete was born. He wasn't interested in responsibility or paying child support. We've done just fine without him. Should I call you Paul or Uncle Paul? What?”
“Paul will do just fine.”
“I'll clean up the kitchen while you pack. Should I turn off the oven?” Josie asked.

Other books

Faking Normal by Courtney C. Stevens
Vaporware by Richard Dansky
Nightmare Hour by R. l. Stine
Valour's Choice by Tanya Huff
A Delicious Deception by Elizabeth Power
The Scattering by Jaki McCarrick
Haunted Fixer-Upper, The by Pressey, Rose
A Place in Normandy by Nicholas Kilmer