by Sable Hunter
His admission sounded so sad. Savannah couldn’t imagine a man like Patrick being alone. She imagined he could have all the friends he wanted. Maybe he needed more than friendship, maybe Patrick needed to be loved. The very thought gave her pause and what Nana Fontenot had said returned to haunt her. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be a part of this man’s life. He was kind, he took care of his grandfather, he served his country and he cared enough to rescue a damsel in distress – namely her. To have someone like Patrick would be a blessing beyond her ability to comprehend.
After several moments she stopped by her black Camaro that was parked under the shade of a large oak. “I will be glad to use all my resources to help you and your granddad find any family you might have. It will be my pleasure.” Before he could accept or reject her offer, she went on. “Do you live around here, Patrick?” Savannah made a place for him in the front seat, moving her briefcase, a laptop and a couple of books to the back.
“Nice ride,” he admired the sports car, trying to imagine this girly-girl behind the wheel. “I grew up down around Wallace, but I rented an apartment in Lafayette to be near the nursing home. Unfortunately, I won’t get the chance to be here for a while. My career in the military keeps me away quite a bit.” He had just gotten his seat belt fastened when she peeled out. Swear to God, he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. She drove like a little bat out of hell. “Are we in a hurry, Savannah?” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her hands were delicate and he couldn’t stop from imagining how those long shapely fingers with those white French tips would feel moving softly over his skin. Her arms were tanned and toned; she even had a little beauty mark by her right elbow that he couldn’t wait to kiss. Smooth shoulders – and very large, hard nipples. Damn!
“Sorry,” she let off on the gas a bit. “I got a little excited.”
“Yea, I can see that.”
Savannah took one look at Patrick and discovered that he was staring at her breasts. “Crap,” she tried to turn a little away from him in her seat. Dang it all. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. If that’s because of me, I’m damn flattered.” A blush and a little gasp was all the response he got from her. “Am I the reason you’re excited, Savannah?”
“Patrick, I think I’m in over my head here,” she gave him a hesitant glance. “I’m teasing you and we don’t know one another at all.”
A contrite feeling filled Patrick’s heart. He was a big guy and she was a small woman who had graciously agreed to spend time alone with him. She had no idea that he felt like he had a vested interest in her safety and well-being. She had no idea that he felt like he had known her for years. No, it didn’t matter that she had flirted outrageously with him. It was his job, first and foremost, to be a gentleman. Patrick smiled to himself – that is, until she got to know him better, and then he could ravish her to his heart’s content. “Hey Honey, it’s okay. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything. It’s my job, firs protect you, not scare you.” He wanted to reach out and touch her pretty face, but he kept his hands on his side of the car.
“No, no,” she quickly took back water to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to infer that I’m afraid of you. I’m a pretty good judge of character, and besides, you’re a Marine. If you can’t trust a Marine, who can you trust?”
“So what did you mean?”
“I meant that I gave you the wrong impression. I came on to you like I knew what I was doing, but I don’t. Plus, there are a lot of things about me that you don’t know.”
She looked so sad that Patrick wasted no time in laying her fears to rest. Pushing a strand of long silky hair behind one shell pink ear he whispered. “I find you totally captivating, Savannah. And I can’t wait to get to know you better. However experienced or inexperienced you are is just right – because it’s you.”
Savannah didn’t know what to say. Her heart was pounding so hard, she was afraid Patrick could hear it. “Thank you, Patrick.” What else could she say? He was probably just offering friendship, but being his friend would be the easiest thing she had ever done. She just wished it could have been more.
The Boondocks restaurant was located only a little over a mile from the memorial, so they were there before they knew it. When she pulled into the parking lot, Patrick appreciatively noted the atmosphere and the scenery. It reminded him of home, of Evermore. The dark green, lazy waters of Bayou Teche moved slowly by the restaurant. Wooden docks had been built down to the water and people were standing at the edge tossing food into the water for the catfish, turtles and alligators. The whole town of St Martinville had a historical ambience to it. There were ornate churches with large statues on their front lawns and several plantation style Bed and Breakfast hotels lined the streets. “This is nice; I love to look at the water while I eat.”
Savannah liked it, too. She might not know who her people were, but Louisiana was definitely her home. “I do, too. My patio has a view almost this good.”
“I’d like to see it sometime,” he hinted, but she didn’t hear him, she was already on the move. Patrick had every intention of going around to open her car door, but she bounced out before he could get both feet on the ground. Reaching in the back seat, she took out a book almost as big as she was. “Here, let me carry that serious tome for you.” He held out his hands and she relinquished her burden with a polite ‘thank you’. “What’s good here?”
“The fried whole catfish is wonderful. I love the spices they put in the batter. And if you like, we can sit on the patio and feed the resident alligator some hushpuppies.”
“That sounds good; I’d love to feed the alligator. I grew up not too far from the Mississippi. Have you ever heard of Evermore Plantation? My grandfather was caretaker there when I was growing up.”
“Of course, I have heard of Evermore. It’s one of the most beautiful plantations in the South. How lucky you were! My job with the Culture Center gives me an opportunity to help all the plantation owners with historical preservation efforts as well as tourism. I’ve been to Evermore several times, the slave cabins that are still standing there are one of our state treasures.” Her face grew animated with her excitement and Patrick could see how much she loved her work.
“When I was a kid I played around those cabins even though I thought they were haunted. And there’s an old well there that I’ll have to tell you about sometimes.” Would she believe him about the night he saw her face in the dark waters? He hoped so.
There was a line to get in the restaurant, so they had to wait for a few minutes on the front verandah. Patrick stood next to her. Every now and then his big body would nudge against hers and she would feel a hot and wild flush surge through her body that made her want to rub up against him so bad she could have cried with longing. Savannah missed being touched. Sometimes she ran her own hands over her own body and hugged herself tightly, just to get the illusion of being held – but it was a sad substitute for another human being, especially one that you loved.
“What’s special about the well?” His further implication that they’d be communicating beyond today made Savannah’s heart jump.
“It was dug in the early 1800’s by the slaves at Evermore. The story that has been passed down is that the lady of the house didn’t want to drink river water, so they had an old shaman slave use a dousing rod to find sweet well water. It’s said that he put a spell on the water. Many people still believe that old well is magical.” He really wasn’t making that up either. Since he had seen Savannah’s face in the black depths, he had heard of folks traveling from New Orleans and even farther to draw water from the well to use for scrying.
“I’d love to hear about the well and anything else like that you can think to share. We’re always photographing and documenting historical places. In fact, I have two task force projects that will take me down close to Evermore in a few days. I’m going to visit Ms. Selma Smith. She’s helping me archive some original
Cajun music recordings from the early nineteen thirties and she’s going to introduce me to Mrs. Boudreaux who is almost a hundred years old. I’m told that she can tell some fantastic stories and her memory is still as sharp as a tack.”
Selma Smith! He hadn’t heard that name in ages. “Would you believe that I know Ms. Smith? She and my grandfather useI’d lovdate.” How thankful he was that they had never married. It had been close for a while, but Patrick had stayed out of it. At least he never had to live with Izzy and Gertrude.
“Wow, you’ll have to tell me how to get on her good side. I hear she’s a bit eccentric.”
They were almost to the door. Patrick was enjoying her so much; he wanted the hands of time to slow down so he could spend as much time with Savannah as possible. “I’ve lived in south Louisiana all my life, except the time I have been in the military, so I know a lot of the local characters and tall tales. I’d be glad to help you; it seems maybe we could help each other. What do you think?” Research and legends were interesting, no doubt about it. But there were other things in which he was far more interested – how her lips tasted, how she would feel under him and what sounds she would make as he made her cum. Yes, Savannah was fascinating. Their turn came to enter and Patrick fell into step with her, but again she foiled his gentlemanly manners by opening the door of the restaurant for him. “Do you lead when you dance?” he asked her, amused.
“I’m not sure,” she answered softly. “I’ve never danced with anyone.”
“Well, that’s a shame. A beautiful girl like you has every reason to dance. Is it against your religion?”
“No, nothing like that.” The waiter came to greet them, preventing her from having to say more.
“We’d like to sit outside on the patio if there’s room,” Patrick spoke up. As they were led to the rear of the building, he placed a protective hand on her shoulder. “You look very pretty; I like that dress.” He loved to see a woman in a dress. Jeans and pants had their place, but a feminine outfit just did something to his libido. She didn’t flinch from his touch, but she did look at him with questions in her eyes. He pulled her chair out before the other man had a chance, ordered their food and drinks and gave the guy a dirty look for checking out Savannah’s legs.
“I prefer dresses like this; they’re cooler. Cotton is my favorite fabric,” she answered simply. Cotton was her favorite fabric? Gracious! Savannah knew she was acting like a dork. Perhaps it would be safer to discuss his research. She cleared her throat, placed her napkin on her lap and pulled the big book in front of her. “The Seven Ships contains the account of the Acadians’ arrival in Louisiana. It has a more complete list of the passengers on each ship than the memorial’s Wall of Names does and it also tells where they settled. If any of your relatives came here during the deportation, I can find record of them here.” Heck, this was hard. Knowing he was probably confused at her behavior, she leaned near to him and confided. “I’m sorry, Patrick. This is unlike me. Usually, I act like I’m at least halfway intelligent.”
He didn’t know what was up, but she didn’t have anything to apologize for and he said so. “Sweetheart, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you. You have nothing to be sorry for. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
She bit her lower lip, bowed her head and spoke softly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed. I know this is, at the most, a business luncheon, but it’s the first time I’ve been out to eat with a man in a social setting. I’m enjoying it very much. And I want to thank you for coming with me. It’s very nice of you.”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve never been on a date?” As soon as he said the words, he watched her face fall. Damn! He hadn’t meant to embarrass her.
“No, I haven’t.” He had to bend close to hear what she was saying. “It’s a long story; one I’d rather not go into.”
What the hell! It was every woman’s birthright to be cherished and wooed, especially a beautiful woman like Savannah. And here she was thanking him for coming with her to a fried fish joint. He wanted to ask how that could be, but he could tell she regretted saying anything. “I wish it could be more special for you. But I’d be honored for this to be your first date.” It was a crying shame that she hadn’t been courted like she deserved, but he was secretly pleased that he was the first to give her the experience. He couldn’t help but wonder how many other ‘firsts’ he could give her.
The waiter brought them some water and she grabbed it like she was dying of thirst. After taking a deliberate but dainty sip, she sat the glass down. “No, this is perfect. We have good food, a nice atmosphere and I get to spend time with a handsome hero who rescued me from an awkward situation. I think getting to know you this way is very special.”
Oh, she was going to get to know him well, he was going to make sure of that. “What was your awkward situation? Does your friend try to fix you up often?”
Savannah cleared her throat. “Tammany is a doll. She’s been a good friend. I’m just not as outgoing as she would like for me to be. And she tends to want to take me on as a project, I think.” The waiter had brought some hushpuppies and she took one from it and chunked it over the side and watched as a small alligator headed straight for the treat. “While our little ploy will satisfy my friend’s matchmaking needs for a little while, what I’m really grateful for was escaping Fred March’s clutches. He scares me a little.”
Immediately Patrick’s protective instincts went into high gear. “There was someone bothering you at the Memorial? Why didn’t you say so?” That was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate. Women should never have to put up with being threatened.
“He wasn’t really bothering me. His name is Professor March and he makes me very nervous. I’ve turned him down several times and he has made some veiled threats becaue of it.” Remembering what she had told Patrick about being dateless, Savannah felt she had to elaborate. “I know you wonder why I haven’t taken advantage of his invitations.” She clasped her hands together, trying to force herself to stop shaking. Patrick was so attentive. Savannah didn’t know what to do with the way he made her feel. The need to be closer to him and the reality that she couldn’t was almost too much to bear.
“No, I wasn’t thinking that at all.” He made himself very plain. “A woman has every right to choose who she spends time with. I wish you had pointed this man out to me; I can guarantee he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” Just the idea of someone making Savannah feel less than safe infuriated him. Patrick watched her tear another hushpuppy into smithereens. It was clear to him that she was beating around the bush and whatever she wasn’t telling him was the real problem. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to put off his deployment. But he couldn’t. The situation with Lucas had to be resolved one way or the other. Meeting Savannah like this and then having to walk away from her so soon was tearing him up inside.
“You would have defended me?” At that moment, he owned her. Oh, she knew he would never want to take possession of her – but that didn’t negate the fact that he had just earned the keys to her kingdom.
The absolute amazement on her face and wonder in her voice made it hard for Patrick to sit still. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and show her how it felt to be cherished. They had just met – and he knew it wasn’t logical – but he felt possessive of her. This woman was important to him, but he didn’t feel like he could say all of that – not just yet. But he damn sure could put her mind to rest. “Hell yes, I would have defended you.”
Without thinking, she picked up her napkin and fanned herself with it. Then she laughed. Truthfully, she was having a hard time maintaining her composure. Savannah was extremely attracted to this man. Her whole body was tingling from arousal and she had the most incredible urge to crawl over in his lap and kiss him silly. “You say the most amazing things,” she sighed. “Maybe it would be better if we talked about something else till I calm down.” She began to thumb through the book, heading for the table of conten
ts that would list the names. “The name LaVerdure isn’t familiar to me. But, I certainly don’t have this volume memorized.”
“Savannah, I don’t want you to calm down and I don’t want to do research right now.” Patrick took the heavy volume from her and sat it on the chair next to him. “Frankly, I’d rather get you alone and kiss you till you can’t remember your name.” After he had declared his intentions, they stared at one another for a long moment. Patrick was doing his best to re-memorize her face. During the long weeks ahead, he knew he would want to remember every beautiful detail and even though he had seen her in the well and drawn her likeness, nothing compared to the stunning reality of Savannah.
Savannah was dumbstruck. “You want to kiss me?” She was asking too many questions, and she probably sounded like she didn’t have a brain in her head - but this w important.
“More than you can ever imagine.”
Should she? Could she? She was clean, she knew she was. No doctor had ever found even one thing wrong with her. Savannah knew she was just like any other girl. He deserved to know the full truth – but, it was just a kiss. She wouldn’t touch his lips, but she longed to experience kissing someone – just once.