Bayou Vows

by Geri Krotow

  “Jeb,” she panted. “Please.”

  “Enjoy it, babe.” He kept her right at the apex of need and release, his fingers doing things she swore he’d never done before, taking her to a new level of arousal.

  “Please,” she sobbed, clutching his shoulders, unable to do anything but allow him to hold her. If she reached for him, she’d fall, and the magic he was doing to her pussy would stop.

  His lips hovered over hers. “For you, babe.” His mouth crushed hers as his thumb pressed on her clit, no longer teasing in its caress. The rush of her climax blindsided her, her keening howl swallowed by Jeb’s passionate kiss. Before she came down from it he donned a condom he’d drawn from his pocket and entered her in one strong thrust, the angle of their joining allowing him sink to the hilt, his skin hitting and grinding against her clit. His gasps filled the air as he moved again and again, taking her to the place where there was nothing but Jeb and their joined bodies.

  “Jena.” He ground out her name the moment before he thrust one last time, grunting his release in the night air.

  They clung together for several minutes, forehead against forehead, still joined, Jeb’s hands cupping her ass, her back resting against the solid trunk.

  “I love you, Jena.” He kissed her deeply before helping her unwrap her legs, her feet hitting the dew-chilled ground.

  “I love you, too.” Her skirt fell around her and he leaned in to kiss her again, his scent filling her.

  “There’s another thing I want to show you.” He zipped up his pants and reached for her hand. “I hadn’t planned for it to be this dark.”

  Curious, she slipped into her sandals and allowed him to lead the way as they left the tree and wound through the garden. Once back on the street, they walked to the front of the large house that had been so much a part of her life until her parents had sold it right after Katrina.

  Jeb stopped, looking at the house, not seeing what Jena did.

  “Jeb, did you know this house is for sale?” A large for-sale sign on the front lawn she’d known like the back of her hand made her inexplicably sad. “It’ll be the second family to own it, since Dad and Mom sold it.” It made her sad, her family home traded like any other commodity.

  “Huh.” Jeb stood still, as if on the verge of a cliff.

  “What?” He looked nervous, quite a feat after the bayou-pounding sex they’d just had—no, after how they’d made love beneath the stars, she corrected herself.

  “What’s going on, Jeb?”

  He pulled a small object from his pocket, but it wasn’t another condom packet. He pressed it into her hand and got to one knee.

  “It’s not a ring, not yet, because I want you to pick out your own ring. It’s a key, but not just the key to my heart—you’ve had that since we met, and it’s yours forever. We started a lifelong friendship in this house, Jena, on this property. I want to start a new life together here, to let our kids enjoy the love and NOLA for as long as the hurricanes let us.”

  “Jeb.” She choked out his name, unable to verbalize the tsunami of love washing over her from all sides.

  “Will you marry me, Jena Boudreaux?”

  “Yes, yes, yes. I will marry you, and be with you the rest of our lives, Jeb.” She tugged him up, opened her palm to reveal the house key he’d placed there.

  “It’s really, really the key to this house?”

  He grinned. “It is. Look here.” He drew her around the metal sign, and she saw the freshly placed SOLD sign plastered diagonally across it.

  “Jeb.” She reached up and kissed him. “I can’t believe this.”

  “So you’re not thinking it’s over-the-top, too many childhood memories? Because you had some awful times with your folks here, too, once you were a teen and realized how backward their bigotry was.”

  She shook her head. “That’s what makes this the perfect engagement ring, Jeb.” She dangled the key in front of him. “It’s a chance to make new memories, to raise a family open to whatever the world has to offer.”

  He kissed her, holding her tight. When he lifted his head, he grinned. “I was hoping you’d see it that way. Are you ready to be carried over the threshold?”

  “Only by you.”

  Chapter 18

  Three months later

  “You’re beautiful, dear.” Gloria Boudreaux sniffed back tears as she adjusted Jena’s wispy white veil, careful to untangle the delicate lace from any seed pearl beads on her bodice.

  “Thank you, Mom.” Jena couldn’t wait until the day was over and she was in Jeb’s arms again. She lived for their nights together in the rambling old house, half of which was currently under renovation.

  “I’m glad you went with the bluer white.” Robyn squeezed her hand affectionately and Jena savored the burst of love.

  “I’m glad you agreed to be my maid of honor.”

  Robyn smiled, and Jena knew she had a lifelong friend in the woman whose skills had rebuilt The Refuge House.

  “You look stunning.” Sonja walked up to them, her mother next to her, an older version of Sonja’s regal beauty. Sonja’s dress was a pale ivory, the perfect shade to highlight her deep brown skin. She’d forgone a veil for a fresh flower headpiece made of baby’s breath. A freshwater pearl necklace finished her look.

  “As do you. Did Henry give you the pearls?”

  Sonja’s hand reached for the necklace, her smile full of joy. “He did. And the earrings are from Will.” They laughed, as Will wasn’t even crawling yet.

  “My nephew has great taste.” Jena looked across the room to the vanity, where Poppy was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. “Poppy, are you doing okay?”

  “Yeah, hurry up already,” Sonja chastised her best friend. “We have to be downstairs in five minutes.”

  “You look fine, honey.” Poppy’s mother had flown in from New York, and while clearly overwhelmed by the triple wedding, had been a trooper through all the pre-wedding festivities.

  “I’m ready.” Poppy finished with a flourish and turned to face them all. “And guess what?”

  Sonja held up her hand. “Do. Not. Say. It.”

  “What?” Jena looked from Sonja to Poppy and back again.

  Sonja never took her eyes off Poppy. “She looks like she’s ready to tell us some very special news, and I’m sure it can wait until after the wedding. Don’t do what I did, Poppy.”

  Poppy smiled, shaking her head. “I’ve already told Brandon. Unlike you, I don’t believe in keeping my husband-to-be out of the loop.”

  “Told Brandon what?” Jena had no clue.

  Poppy walked up to Jena, her pale pink gown a perfect foil to her flushed skin. “You’re going to be an auntie again!”

  Jena squealed and began to jump up and down before Gloria interrupted with a faux stern look. “Honey, settle down. We’ll celebrate after the vows.”

  Jena eyed her mother. “You already knew?”

  Gloria’s eyes misted, and her lips wobbled. “Yes. Hudson and I are so blessed.”

  “We all are.” Jena looked around the room. Sonja and Poppy had each asked their sister to stand up for them. Robyn and Gloria stood on either side of Jena. “I think it’s time.”

  * * * *

  Jeb stood next to Henry and Brandon under the new trellis he’d constructed in front of the tree. The minister stood behind them, waiting for the three brides to come out of the house. Jeb could wait forever if he had to. He had Jena at the end of it.

  Jeb’s back and shoulders ached from the last few weeks. He and Jena had singlehandedly cleared out the back of the property, doing their best to return the garden to its original splendor. It would take years to make it into the beautiful spot Jena envisioned, but it was good enough for today.

  Their wedding.

  Once she’d agreed to marry him, they quickly devised plans to
make it official in this house. They moved into the empty place immediately, renting it from the previous owners and closing on it the day before yesterday. The event that kicked everything into supersonic high gear was when, at their impromptu housewarming and engagement announcement, Jena’s siblings had voiced a desire to get all the Boudreauxes married at once. Together. A triple wedding. Since it was now December, they wanted it done before the crush of the holidays. So he and Jena had agreed, and now he waited for his love to join him under their tree, to make it all official.

  It had been a whirlwind, and they’d barely had time to be together, except at night when they collapsed into bed. Between The Refuge, cleaning up the house, and readying the garden, it was a wonder they were still standing.

  He credited that to the healing powers of lovemaking. Despite their exhaustion from working long days, and then nights at home on the house, they’d continued the celebration they’d begun that night against the tree three months ago.

  “Who do you think will come out first?” Brandon’s voice cracked, a sure sign of his nerves.

  “Sonja. I’m the oldest.” Henry’s certainty made Jeb laugh.

  “It’s not primogeniture, brother.” Brandon wasn’t going to let his older brother get away with anything.

  “It’ll be Jena. It’s our house.” Jeb shot them both a glance and offered his widest grin.

  “Piss off.” Henry’s rejection was given with a smile.

  “You’re about to become an official Boudreaux, unofficially, so it’s our house again, too.” Brandon patted him on the shoulder.

  “I appreciate your generosity with the family name, boys, but your sister is about to become a Boudreaux DeVillier. It has a nice sound to it, doesn’t it?”

  Both Boudreaux men groaned, yet within a heartbeat they were all laughing.

  The sound of the screen door creaking open caught Jeb’s attention first. Crap, he’d forgotten to lubricate the hinges. His focus had been on the front porch and walkway, leading to the garden.

  But it wasn’t the brides that came out. The mothers of the brides, along with their witnesses, came forward and walked down the paved path to the trellis, taking their seats as planned. There were too many brides and grooms to have the entire wedding party standing during the vows.

  “Where are the brides?” Henry sounded concerned. He would—he’d been jilted not six months earlier. But since Sonja and he had made up, and now had little Will, Jeb wasn’t worried. Sonja was a shoe-in to show up.

  As was Jena. He began to sweat, and not from the early evening New Orleans heat. His mind fired salvoes of memories he wished would remain buried forever, including Jena leaving for “deployment.”

  “They’ll be here.” His voice sounded a little too high-pitched.

  “Poppy is no doubt keeping them in line.” Brandon’s voice was steady, but he rocked back and forth on his feet, his polished shoes belying his anxiety. “She’s all about being prompt.”

  The agreed-upon processional music sounded over the wireless speakers, which Jeb was quietly proud he’d thought of. Now all he gave a damn about was Jena, here, next to him, sealing the deal that began over two decades ago. Immediately he saw her as she was at eight, running across this same lawn, to the huge tree behind them, providing protection from the harsh sun even still. He quickly looked over his shoulder, and the sight of the gnarly old tree in all its humongous majesty stilled him, grounded him. The heart was visible through wisps of Spanish moss, as though the tree winked at him.

  This was home, where he and Jena belonged.

  He turned back around at the same time the guests collectively gasped. All three brides walked out from the front of the house, around the corner, arms linked in a single line of beauty.

  The only one Jeb saw was Jena. She was in between her two soon-to-be sisters-in-law, and her eyes met his with complete assurance and the one thing he’d been blind to for too long:

  Love.

  The music swelled, the brides grew closer, but all Jeb knew or cared about was that Jena walked toward him without hesitation, with no sign of the nerves he’d had. This was a woman who knew what she wanted, and she wanted him.

  Jena reached where her father stood, and Hudson lifted her veil, kissed her on the cheek, and handed her over to Jeb. A traditional gesture for a very untraditional road taken.

  Jeb took Jena’s hand and kissed her on the cheek—to hell with waiting until after the vows.

  “I’ve been waiting for this my entire life,” he whispered in Jena’s ear. “You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m yours, Jeb DeVillier. Always have been.”

  They turned to face the minister and the oak tree’s branches swayed in the light breeze, blessing their union.

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  BARE DEVOTION

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  Meet the Author

  Geri Krotow is the award winning author of more than thirteen contemporary and romantic suspense novels (with a couple of WWII subplots thrown in!). While still unpublished Geri received the Daphne du Maurier Award for Romantic Suspense in Category Romance Fiction. Her 2007 Harlequin Everlasting debut A Rendezvous to Remember earned several awards, including the Yellow Rose of Texas Award for Excellence.

  Prior to writing, Geri served for nine years as a Naval Intelligence Officer. Geri served as the Aviation/Anti Submarine Warfare Intelligence officer for a P 3C squadron during which time she deployed to South America, Europe, and Greenland. She was the first female Intel officer on the East Coast to earn Naval Aviation Observer Wings. Geri also did a tour in the war on drugs, working with several different government and law enforcement agencies. Geri is grateful to be settled in south central Pennsylvania with her husband.

  Fully Dressed

  There’s nowhere hotter than the South, especially with three men who know how to make the good times roll. But one of the Bayou Bachelors is about to meet his match…

  New York City stylist Poppy Kaminsky knows that image is everything, which is why she’s so devastated when hers is trashed on social media—after a very public meltdown over her cheating fiancé. Her best friend’s New Orleans society wedding gives her the chance hide out and lick her wounds . . .

  Brandon Boudreaux is in no mood to party. His multi-million dollar sailboat business is in danger of sinking thanks to his partner’s sudden disappearance—with the company’s funds. And when he rolls up to his estranged brother’s pre-wedding bash in an airboat, a cold-as-ice friend of the bride looks at him like he’s so much swamp trash.

  The last person Poppy should get involved with is the bad boy of the Boudreaux family. But they have more in common than she could ever imagine—and the steamy, sultry New Orleans nights are about to show her how fun letting loose can be . . .

  Bare Devotion

  Sweet and sultry, hot and wild…that’s desire, Louisiana-style. And there’s no one better to explore it with than one of the Bayou Bachelors…

  Returning to her flooded New Orleans home to face Henry Boudreaux, the man she jilted at the altar, is the hardest thing attorney Sonja Bosco has ever done—even before she discovers she’s pregnant. Sonja backed out of the marriage for Henry’s sake. He wants to be part of his father’s law firm, and his parents will never approve of an interracial marriage. Better to bruise his heart than ruin his life.

  Henry can’t forgive Sonja, and doubts that he can trust her again. But learning that they’re going to be parents means there’s no avoiding each other. Springtime on the bayou is already steamy enough…now they’re living in the same small space while their damaged house is repaired. And with each passin
g day they’re getting a little more honest. A lot more real. And realizing that nothing—not even New Orleans at Mardi Gras—glows brighter than the desire they’re trying to deny . . .