Bayou My Love: A Novel (21 page)

I
smiled, leaning my head against the rim of the tub.

“Mmm,”
he said. “That’s the one.”

I
flicked my hand in the water, splashing him.

“I
always wanted to crawl out of my skin and into someone else’s,” I said. “I
wanted to be thinner, prettier, have better hair.”

“Good
God, why?” he said. “I can’t imagine you any other way.”

I
shook my head. “That’s a long, boring story.”

“Tell
me,” he said, his fingers still sliding along the arch of my foot. “I want to
know everything about you, Enza Parker.”

I
smiled, feeling my cheeks burn again. “I was a tomboy. I was invisible. Guys
never liked me.”

“I
might have a thing for tomboys,” he said. “Good thing you didn’t know me when I
was nineteen.”

“I
bet you were a hell raiser at nineteen.”

“I
plead the fifth,” he said, bringing my foot to his lips.

“No
fair dodging. I told you.”

He
grinned, his lips brushing against my toes. His stubbly chin tickled, but his
kisses held me still. I loved the way his eyes drifted over me, as if drinking
me in. I felt beautiful when he held me in his gaze, and that was something I’d
rarely felt—if ever.

“That
feels incredible,” I said, and he grinned, fixing me with a sly stare.

“Tell
me something else about you,” I said.

“Like
what, cher?” His tongue was soft as a feather, tracing an achingly slow line
along the arch of my foot.

I
closed my eyes. “Anything. Where you went on vacation as a kid, what your
favorite movie is, the first girl you ever kissed.”

“Orange
Beach,” he said, sliding his teeth along my big toe. “
Chinatown
. A girl
named Caroline.”

“Tell
me the wildest thing you ever did, Jack.”

He
grinned. “What if I said you?”

I
splashed him as he slid his fingers up to my knee. “Seriously,” I said. “I want
to know all about you.”

After
a long pause he rested my foot on his shoulder and said, “You know, your
grandmother saved me, in a way.” His fingers drifted along my calf. “I was a
wreck in high school. And one day I showed up to cut her grass. I did an awful
job the first few times, and then one day she brought me inside and gave me a
glass of sweet tea.”

He
slid his thumbs behind my knees. “She said, ‘Mr. Mayronne, you’re going to have
to straighten up if you want to do better than what people think you capable
of.’ She had my number.”

I
nodded, thinking of those times she’d straightened me out too.

“I
started helping her around her house and supported myself during college. She
always knew what folks needed to hear. She was a hell of a lady, your
grandmother.”

“What’d
you study, mister cum laude?”

He
smiled. “Geology. I was a rock hound.”

“How’d
you go from rocks to fighting fires?”

He
shrugged. “I worked for the Forest Service for a couple of years. One summer
when there were wildfires burning, they needed everyone they could get. You had
to have a red card to help, so I took the pack test, got certified as a
firefighter and did a couple of rotations in Texas.”

“That’s
amazing.”

“I
liked it a lot more than geology. And I felt like I was doing something good.”

“Do
you ever miss it?”

“Sometimes.
It’s hard being gone all the time, but every once in a while I think of doing
it again.”

He
slid his hand behind my knee, and I thought of him out in the wild, surrounded
by flame and acres of tinder. I couldn’t imagine the fearlessness that would
take.

“How
is it that we never met, if you were working for Vergie in high school?” I
asked.

“She
knew me too well, darlin’. She knew that no matter how much I’d straightened
myself out, I’d still be bad for you. I’d have been all over you like fleas on
a hound.” He laughed a throaty laugh that made me want to climb in his lap.
“And she wasn’t letting you near the likes of me.”

“Come
on,” I said, but the look in his eyes said it was the truth.

“I
saw you a couple times. I sometimes brought groceries over when you were
practicing piano. You were banging those keys like Jerry Lee Lewis one day, and
Miss Vergie caught me with my face pressed against the window. I thought she’d
fire me for sure.”

I
laughed. “I’d forgotten about the piano lessons. What did she do?”

“She
just gave me that mama bear look and raised one of those penciled-on eyebrows,
and I knew that was a line I dare not cross.”

“I
wish I’d met you then,” I said, trying to picture a teenage Jack.

He
grinned. “No ma’am, you do not.”

“I’m
awfully glad I met you now.”

He
eased my feet into the water, sliding his hands up to my knees. “Come here,” he
said. “You’re too far away.”

I
slid to him, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. He turned me so my back
was to him and pulled me against his chest, folding me in his arms.

I
wanted to stay that way all night, until the water grew cold, feeling his
breath against my neck as he nuzzled me with tiny kisses, soft as rain. I
sighed as his arms tightened around my waist. One hand slid beneath the water,
between my thighs, and his teeth pinched my ear as he moved his fingers in tiny
circles.

“Jack,”
I whispered, squeezing his thighs under the water.

“What
is it, cher? Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want.”

I
felt like I was leaving my body as he moved his fingers slowly, so deliberate
in their grace. As I leaned my head back into his chest, he slid his prickly
chin along my neck and closed his lips over my earlobe as he said, “Anything,
cher. Anything.”

I
shut my eyes, pressing my body closer to his. “It scares me, the way I feel
about you,” I whispered, placing my arm over his. I shuddered as the pressure
in his fingers increased. “I don’t have the best luck with men.”

His
lips moved against my ear. “Your luck’s about to change, darlin’. Believe me.”

And
I did.

His
arm tightened across my chest. I could feel him hard, pressing against my lower
back. Still he teased me, sliding one hand along the curve of my breast, his
fingers pinching the nipple. I gasped as his other hand moved beneath the
water, and I thought of how he’d appeared in my life in such a haphazard way.
I’d never imagined meeting a man like Jack, and it saddened me to think of the
little time we had left together. When the house was finished, I might never
see him again.

I
pushed those thoughts aside, and told myself to relish this time we had
together and stop overthinking everything. As he murmured in my ear, telling me
the things he longed to do to me, I at last let myself relax in his grip, let
him bring me the pleasure I’d denied myself for so long.

He
was the kind of man I’d once thought was too rare to ever find.

He
slid his fingers inside me as he nuzzled my ear, his scratchy cheek making me
flinch with delight. Teasing me mercilessly with his fingers, he groaned as I
ground my hips against him. With one arm still locked across my chest, he slid
his legs over mine, pinning me against him.

“You
drive me crazy like this… so wild.” His teeth pinched my neck as his fingers
quickened. “Come apart in my hands.”

I
dug my fingers into the hard muscle of his thighs as he began to move his thumb
in tiny circles again. The more I squirmed, the tighter he held me, until my
back arched and I saw tiny pinpoints of light. It was so hard not to cry out—I
gasped as he held his lips against my neck, his hand stroking my thigh.

My
heart banged against my ribs, my skin tingled all over. I turned my cheek
against his and whispered, “Jack, I love the way you touch me.”

He
folded his arms over my chest and said, “I could touch you every day of my
life, and it still wouldn’t be enough for me.”

~~~~

I
woke up gasping. My throat felt like it had been squeezed shut, and my skin
tingled as if singed by fire. In the dream I was back in the house, the room
bright orange, the flames rippling over the walls and ceiling. But this time,
there was no door. The orange washed over me in waves. All around, the beams
creaked, the plaster crackled, the glass shattered.

Jack
sat up and slipped his arms around me. “Hey, it’s OK, darlin’, you’re safe.”
His lips brushed my ear as he held me to his chest.

My
heart pounded so hard against my skin that it hurt. When I closed my eyes, I
still saw smoke and flames.

“It’s
all right,” he said, stroking my arm. “I’m here.”

I
took a deep breath, hoping to drive away the smoke that lingered. “I was in the
house but couldn’t get out. Couldn’t find you.”

He
lay back, pulling me toward him.

“Go
back to sleep,” he said. He draped one arm over my hip, sliding his fingers in
a tiny soothing arc.

For
the moment, I did feel safe. Even though my house had nearly burned down around
me, there was no other place I’d rather be. There was no other person I’d
rather be tangled up with.

Outside,
the swamp pulsed with the thrumming of katydids and night birds. Jack’s breaths
came slow and even, and soon my chest rose and fell with his, relaxing under
the weight of his arms. I knew then that I didn’t want to rush through the rest
of the repairs.

I
didn’t want to leave Bayou Sabine.

I
didn’t want to leave Jack.

Chapter
17

Mid-morning,
we went back to Vergie’s. My stomach twisted up like a pretzel as we parked in
the yard. The back of the house was still covered in ash, but the dog was
stretched out on the porch like it was just another day.

“You
still want to tell me this place isn’t cursed?” I said.

“It’s
got nothing to do with curses,” Jack said.

Curses
might be easier to deal with.

“When’s
that inspector supposed to be here?” he added.

I
lifted his wrist to look at his watch. “Right about now.” I climbed out of the
Jeep and walked to the porch. Jack had a distant look in his eyes, scanning the
edge of the tree line.

Inside,
the living room was blackened from floor to ceiling. Bits of the hardwood
floors and painted walls just barely peeked through the char. Holes from the
firefighters’ axes gaped like wounds. It was much worse than it had seemed last
night. The door frames in the hall and kitchen were blackened, the ceiling
charred. It would take weeks to repair this damage—if it could be salvaged at
all.

Now
I saw why Jack had been so angry when he’d found me with the hose. I was
shocked the whole house hadn’t gone up like kindling. I fought back tears as
the door opened.

Jack
entered with a man wearing a shirt and tie with jeans. The man was already
sweating, his cuffs rolled to his elbows. His bald head was pink with sunburn.

“Miss
Parker,” he said, shaking my hand. “I’m Nick Jacobs. Sorry to meet you under
these circumstances.” He looked over my shoulder, already assessing the room.

A
surge of nausea hit me, and I thought for sure I’d vomit right on his shoes.
Jack gave me a concerned look as I excused myself and returned to the porch.

Outside,
I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. It seemed my breathing was the only
thing I could control. Stumbling down the walk, I sank to my knees and then lay
back in the grass, imagining how it might feel if the ground ripped open and
covered me. Overhead, clouds floated like cotton balls on a pale sky.

After
a few minutes, I heard Jack’s boots thumping on the porch, scuffing in the
grass as they came nearer. He sat next to me, but for a long while he said
nothing.

“Just
when I think it can’t get any worse,” I said, “it always does.”

“We’ll
fix this,” he said.

I
scowled. “Part of me wants to pack up and leave. Get in the car and drive.”

He
plucked a weed from between his feet, twirling it in his fingers as he stared
out over the yard.

“My
father would love that, though. He’d love to rub my nose in this for the next
decade.”

“You
worry too much about what your father thinks.”

That’s
when the tears started. The ugly tears that come with the angry cry that comes
when you finally see the truth you’ve been avoiding.

I
couldn’t hold back any more.

Jack
stared across the yard, chewing his lip.

Men
never understand the angry cry.

“I
don’t know why I care so much what he thinks. Sometimes I wish I could leave
everything behind—my job, my home—and start over with no father to impress.”

“So
do it. Start over.”

I
frowned. “You make it sound so easy.”

He
stripped the leaves from the stem one by one. “The only person who can make you
carry all of that burden around is you. We let it go when we’re ready, though.”

“I
can’t quit. Quitting is giving up. Then he wins.”

“Sometimes
toughing it out isn’t the answer,” he said. “Sometimes cutting your losses is
cutting yourself free.”

“I
just wanted to do this right,” I said. “For Vergie.”

“You’re
good at this, cher. And she would have been proud.”

I
snorted, yanking fistfuls of grass from around my hips. “This is a disaster.”

“You
were doing fine with this place. It’s not your fault some asshole set it on
fire. You’re beating yourself up for nothing.”

He
lay down in the grass next to me, lacing his hands behind his head. How could
he be so relaxed? I felt like I would burst apart at the seams the second I
quit forcing myself to hold it together.

But
he was right.

I
couldn’t leave this house unfinished. My father was my weakness. I could see
that when I talked to Jack. My father had expected me to fail, but I wouldn’t
do it. Not this time.

“I’m
finishing this,” I said, my voice raspy.

“That’s
my girl.”

“I’m
serious.”

“I
know you are.”

After
what seemed like hours, the inspector walked outside and cleared his throat.
His tie was loose now, his shirt sticking to his skin. He pushed his glasses up
onto his head and said, “Well, Miss Parker, the good news is that much of this
can be saved. It could have been a lot worse.”

I
scrambled to my feet.

He
held his hand over his eyes to block the sun. “The bad news is, it was
definitely arson, so that means more complicated paperwork. Might take longer
for your insurance claim to go through.”

I
sighed, brushing myself off.

Nick
motioned for us to follow him into the house.

Inside,
he took his pen from behind his ear and pointed toward the corner—a scorched
spot that had burned deeper into the floor than anywhere else. Bits of glass
lay all around it, melted into pebbles. “That’s the point of origin,” he said,
pointing to the black mark. “Most of the glass fragments are melted and
misshapen, but a few large fragments are curved. Clearly not from the window.”

“A
Molotov cocktail,” Jack said.

“That’d
be my guess.”

“Unbelievable,”
I said, though it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Usually,
these things work out in your favor,” Nick said. “It just takes longer than
we’d like.”

He
tucked his clipboard under his arm and stepped outside. “Good to see you again,
Jack. We’ll get you a report as soon as possible, Miss Parker.”

“Can
we start the repairs?” I asked.

He
tugged at his tie. “Unfortunately, you have to wait for your insurance
adjustor.”

Jack
walked Nick to his car, leaving me standing in the rubble, imagining how I
might begin to make Remy pay for this. I picked up some of the biggest chunks
of plaster and debris, and made a pile by the door.

When
Jack returned, he said, “You should leave that. We may need photos for
evidence.”

Tears
stung my eyes again. Remy—or whoever did this—was out walking around in the
summer heat, driving to work or loafing on his couch drinking a beer. Or
planning his next fire. And that made me furious.

“I
have to do something,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Listen,
nobody expects you to start right back to work like nothing happened. Let’s get
out of here for a while.”

I
laughed. “Now I really can’t afford to lose any more days.”

He
rested his big hands on my shoulders and turned me so he could stare me in the
eye. “You need to get away from this and relax. Let me help you, OK? We’ll sit
down and get a plan together. But I’m not going to let you stay here and work
yourself up into a frenzy.”

“Jack,
I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

“No
buts. The house can wait one more day.”

“It
can’t. It’s been almost three weeks, and this is going to set me back even
further.”

I
felt a surge of panic as I looked around the scorched room. There wasn’t much I
could do, aside from sweep up piles of rubble. “I can’t just sit around and do
nothing.”

He
pulled me against him, holding me tight. It seemed like he was the only thing
keeping me together.

“Come
on… let’s go.”

Before
I could argue, I heard footsteps on the porch. I dabbed at my eyes, figuring
Nick had forgotten something, but as I stepped away from Jack, I felt my heart
twist into a knot.

A
deep voice bellowed from the doorway. “Just what in the hell is going on here?”

My
heart clenched and I said, “Oh, hell.”