Return to Pearl Island, Bonus Chapters (3 page)

“Do you ever wonder,” Aurora said gazing about in awe, “if Marguerite and Jack are the reason we suffered so little damage?”

“Actually, I do,” he admitted. “You?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. “I never wonder. I know they did.”

He looked at the wood paneling, noting how it gleamed, and how colored light poured through the stained glass window to shine against the stairs. Not one pane of glass on that window, or any other, had broken during the storm.

People could explain away the lack of broken glass, but not the rest.

When the order came to evacuate, they’d rushed to board up the entire inn then moved the furniture to the ballroom on the third floor. He remembered too well, how it felt to drive away not knowing what they’d find when they returned. Aurora had sat beside him, stoic and dry eyed during the gut-churning days that followed while they’d watched the twenty-four-hour storm coverage. When they’d returned to the island, they’d feared the worst, especially after driving through Galveston and witnessing the damage there.

Then they’d walked through the front door of the inn and stared in relief—and wonder. Everything from the ground floor up looked exactly how they’d left it. The only things ruined by water damage had been the modern additions in the basement.

“I know a lot of people would scoff, but I think you’re right,” he said. “Marguerite and Jack saved the inn. Not for themselves, but because they know how much the place means to all of you.”

“Us,” she corrected, but her eyes looked troubled.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you... ever feel a little guilty? That we survived virtually unscathed when other people didn’t?”

“No.” He took her other hand so they stood facing each other at the base of the stairs. “I feel blessed. And not just for the lack of damage, but everything. For you, Lauren, and AJ. For all the good things that have happened over the years. I feel... “ His chest swelled with joy as he stared into her amazing blue eyes. “I feel incredibly blessed.”

“Me too.” She smiled up at him as love replaced the worry and nerves until her face glowed. “Me too.”

Releasing her hands, he cupped her face, marveling at how just being with her filled him up inside. “I love you, Aurora.”

“I love you too.”

Lowering his head, he covered her mouth with his own and poured everything he felt into a long kiss that came from the heart. Her arms twined about his neck as she went up on her toes, pressing her body to his. As desire stirred, blending with tenderness, he wished all the family, friends, guests, and news crew a thousand miles away. He wanted Aurora as passionately as he’d always wanted her. His hands moved to her hips, pressing her against him. Her throaty moan told him she felt the same. For one insane moment, he wondered if they had time to slip into the office and lock the door for two really quick, really hot minutes.

Then someone opened the front door. “Oh, there you are.”

He sprang back and saw the silhouette of the female news producer backlit by the morning sunlight.

The woman checked her watch and a clipboard. “We only have a few minutes, so we need to get you fitted with a mic.”

“Okay,” Aurora said, sounding winded. “I’ll be right there.”

The woman went back out, closing the door behind her.

“Well.” Chance released a breath, willing his body to settle. “That was annoying.”

“What?”

“Being interrupted twice in a row. First Lauren, now the news people.”

“At least you managed to distract me.” Her laughter finally sounded real.

“My pleasure.” He noted the flush of color in her cheeks and wiggled his brows in a promise to do something about that later. “You ready?”

“You know what?” She looked around and a confident smile settled over her face. “I am. Thanks to you and Marguerite.”

“To Marguerite?”

“For reminding me I’m a Bouchard, descended from the Pearl of New Orleans. We cower before no audience.”

He laughed out right at that.

“What?” She frowned in confusion.

“You realize most people fear ghosts. Around here, we treat them as part of the family.”

“They
are
part of the family.”

“True,” he conceded. “And if a visit from Marguerite is what you needed, then I’m glad she popped in.”

“Me too.” She beamed up at him.

“All right, then.” He inhaled deeply, breathing in the moment it. “Let’s go.”

Hand in hand, they walked to the front door and out into the sun-washed day.

“Allison, seriously, my mind is made up. I’m not going.”

“Scott, that’s silly,” Alli argued from the passenger’s seat of the SUV. Amused exasperation danced in her eyes. “There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t go.”

“No reason?” He gaped at her. “You just had a baby–”

“Two months ago.”

“–and you expect me to take off to New Orleans for a week?”

“Five days.”

“To do a
book signing
?”

Patience tempered her amusement. “I know how much you hate promoting your own books, but it’s not exactly your average book signing. It’s a major fundraising event to help rebuild the libraries destroyed by hurricane Katrina.”

“I’m only one of the authors they invited.”

“But you’d be the star attractions.”

“No, the cause is the star attraction.” Reaching the bridge to Pearl Island, he turned through the massive stone columns topped with gargoyles. The moment he heard the tires slapping against the ancient bridge the stress of the last few days began to melt from his shoulders. A narrow expanse of blue water spread to either side, separating the lush, private island from the main island of Galveston. Lowering the driver’s side window, he breathed in the tangy, coastal scent. “You know I’m always willing to help with the efforts to rebuild, so I think I can pass on this one thing.”

“But that’s what I don’t understand.” Alli lowered her window as well and the wind ruffled her shoulder-length dark curls. “You’ve given so much to the effort. Not just money, but you spent a month at the townhouse in the French Quarter, helping with the clean up.”

“Thank God the French Quarter was mostly spared.”

“And last year, you went back to help build houses.”

“But that was before Nicole was born.”

“If you’re worried about me handling a newborn and the twins, don’t. I have Rory and Chance, Betsy McMillan always loves to help out, and your niece, Chloe, is here. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried.” Under his breath, he added, “If anything, we’ve had too much help with the baby.”

“What?” Her brow wrinkled.

“Nothing.” He sighed, realizing he’d sound ungrateful if he complained. With the boys, they’d needed all the hands they could get. A single baby, though, was so easy by comparison, some days he had to fight a parade of family and friends just to hold his own daughter. The fact that she already slept through the night didn’t help him squeeze in any alone time with her, unlike the twins who had seemed hell bent on one of them being wide awake and needing something around the clock for the first two years.

Glancing in the review mirror, he saw the devious duo, Derrick and Raff, with their Transformers, locked in a battle for world domination. The sounds of their mock war filled the air with explosions and phaser blasts. At five years old, baby fat kept their nearly identical faces deceptively sweet, but he knew what havoc they could wreak if he didn’t keep his eye on them. Raff, the plotter, always had a scheme brewing, while Derrick, the charmer, could talk their way into or out of any situation.

Oblivious to the racket from her brothers, Nicole cooed happily in her car seat. The colorfully framed mirror strapped to the headrest reflected her adorable black curls, china blue eyes, and rosebud mouth. She grinned as sunlight filtered through the passing trees to play across her face. God, she was adorable.

“Is it the thought of having to do interviews as part of the event that’s holding you back?”

“What?” He frowned, pulling his attention away from the kids.

Sympathy softened Alli’s face as she shifted toward him. “I remember how much you hate talking about yourself, so if that’s it, I understand. It’s just, I thought you’d gotten over that years ago.”

“I did.”

“Then what is it? Why don’t you want to go?”

“I told you. I’d be gone for a week.”

“But, I’ll be fine.”

“I know that!” he insisted, then sighed. Reaching over, he took her hand and squeezed it. “Could we talk about something else? This is our first visit to the inn in weeks and I want to enjoy every minute.”

“Well, we have been a tad busy, me with the baby and you meeting this last deadline.”

“Which is now met, thank God. I’m finally free from that office.”

“You talk as if you’ve been locked away in a tower.” She laughed.

“Some days that’s how it feels.” His shoulders sagged as he thought about the office over the garage they’d built behind the Bouchard Cottage, where they still lived courtesy of Allison’s aunt. For years, he’d craved a calm, uncluttered space to write, rather than working in Adrian’s old bedroom surrounded by kid toys and chaos. With Allison working at the gift shop, he’d been the one to watch the boys during the day. Having Nicole come along gave them the incentive to turn Adrian’s old bedroom into a nursery and give him a real office. The only thing they hadn’t agreed on yet was how they’d juggle the kids when Alli returned to work. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I miss my old office.”

“What?” The statement so surprised Alli, she wondered if she’d heard him right. “You’re the one who said you couldn’t write with the boys running through the house like a couple of wild things.”

“I know, but I kind of got used to it. My new office is so quiet, I can’t concentrate.”

“Seriously?” She squinted at him.

“Sadly, yeah.” He looked a bit embarrassed by the admission. “I keep standing at the window, staring at the house, wondering what the twins are doing, if the baby’s awake, if you need anything.”

A burst of laughter escaped her. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. “You are such a softy for your boys.”

“Well, don’t tell them,” he whispered and glanced in the rear view mirror. “Those two are like sharks. If they smell a weakness, their victim is toast.”

“I love you.” The sincerity behind the words brought a sweet ache to her chest.

He gave her a sideways smile, as if about to say he loved her too, but ear-splitting screams split the air.

“
No! Let go!”

“
It’s mine!”

“Boys, boys!” She twisted in her seat to find them in a tug-of-war over one of the toys. “What’s all of this? You each brought a Transformer.”

“Raff broke mine!” Derrick shouted, his round cheeks turning red.

“You broke it!” Raff tugged harder. “Give mine back.”

“Careful.” Allison reached back to rescue the toy. “You’ll wind up with two broken toys. Derrick, let me see yours.”

While their screams grew louder, she managed to retrieve the broken toy. “Look, you can still play with it. And I bet your daddy can fix it.”

“I don’t want it!”

“Sons?” Scott’s calm voice sliced through the chaos. “Do you want brownies after lunch?”

Derrick went still, blinked a couple of times then cheered. “Brownies!”

“Then I suggest you each play quietly with your own toy.”

Derrick grinned. “If we’re extra good can we have two brownies?”

“You have to earn one first, by not fighting,” Scott told them.

“But how can there be brownies?” A frown of suspicion puckered Raff’s brow. “Uncle Adrian is in the Car’bean.”

“He is in the Caribbean, with your Aunt Jackie,” Scott said. “But your Aunt Rory knows you two crumb-grabbers well enough. I bet she whipped up a batch.”