John watched me, puzzled by my reluctance to be close to Banton. “Why don’t I take Chandler home and then I’ll come back and check on you.”
“Good idea,” Banton replied.
“I’d rather stay. I don’t want to leave him just yet,” I said softly.
“Then why don’t I go and get us something to drink or eat?” John suggested.
“That sounds good.” Banton turned to me and asked, “Chandler, what would you like?”
“Nothing for me,” I mumbled. “Maybe just something to drink.”
“Just something to drink for me, too,” Banton added. “I had a big lunch, and I’m not hungry yet.”
I just bet he’s not, I thought wryly. Okay, Chandler, save the anger for later.
John returned with cold drinks about twenty minutes later. He and Banton visited quietly across the room, and both of them kept glancing over at me, wondering about the silence. I hoped they both just chalked it up to worry over the dog. About an hour passed, and then Dr. Chambers came back into the room and checked Beau again. “His breathing is almost back to normal, and his heart rate is good. I think you can take him home in the morning. I’m going to move him to an indoor kennel for tonight so we can watch him.”
“Thank you so much, Doctor,” Banton replied, obviously relieved.
He and John stood and moved toward the door, and I followed them. I stopped at the table, and leaned down and gave Beau a gentle kiss on the side of his large, soft muzzle. I straightened and caught Banton smiling as he watched me. Glancing at him in embarrassment, I moved past him out the door. On the ride home with John there was nothing but silence. I could tell John sensed my bad mood, but to his credit he said nothing.
Upon our arrival at home I ran up the stairs and closed my door. It was about 9:30, so I decided to just go on to bed. I wasn’t going to stay in that bathroom long enough to bathe by myself at night. I went down to the kitchen and got a soapy washrag so I could sponge off and wash my face. Banton met me in the hallway as I started back to the stairs.
“Chandler, are you angry about something?” Banton asked. He was really perceptive.
“Why would you ask that?”
“You seem to be avoiding me, and I know we’ve been through an ordeal, but you are definitely not your usual, bubbly self. Have I done something?”
“No, nothing. I’m just tired. I’m going to wash up and go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As I started again for the stairs, Banton followed right behind me.
“Chandler, I know you are reluctant to go in the bathroom after dark. I’ve covered the window, and if you want you can leave the door open and I’ll sit outside in the hallway with my back to the door.”
“Absolutely not. I’m fine. I’m just going to take a bath in the morning, that’s all. Goodnight.”
He continued as we neared the landing, “I wanted to talk to you some more about our trip this weekend if you have a minute.”
I turned, furious now. Keep your cool, Andie. Don’t let him know you care. Don’t let him know how hurt you are.
“If something’s come up, I totally understand. I’ve gotten most of what I need online, anyway. I finished my paper this afternoon, so you don’t have to take me after all.” I went into my bedroom and closed the door in his surprised face.
The tears spilled over in the privacy of my bedroom, and my chest had a hollow ache to it, like when I was little and feeling sorry for myself. That made me even angrier, and the tears flowed that much harder. Why couldn’t I be stronger! Why did my tear ducts have to be hard-wired to my anger gene? I walked over to the bed, clicked off the lamp, fell into the pillows and buried my face in them to muffle the sobs.
There was a knock at my door. “Chandler, can I come in?”
I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t let him hear the emotion in my voice. I didn’t answer him. Maybe he would just go away.
“Chandler!” His voice was louder now.
“I’m really, really tired,” I answered through the pillow. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
The door opened, and I could hear his steps cross the room to the bed. “Chandler, I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but you are being really childish. Just talk to me.”
I turned over and sat up in the dark. Childish? Childish? I couldn’t even find the words to answer him. I mulled over and over in my mind the right way to begin without sounding like the woman scorned.
“I told you Banton, I’m just tired. I had a disappointing day, and then all this happened with Beau. I’ll be okay, it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Chandler Ann Collins, I know you well enough to know when you have been crying. You are upset. I get it, you don’t want to talk. I’m just used to us talking about everything, and I feel like we’ve been getting close. I just…I just care about you a lot, maybe too much. I’m so much older, and I feel like I need to be the responsible one. I feel like this has been going somewhere, between you and me. I want…I need to…am I wrong?”
He laid his hand on my back, and rubbed it soothingly. I suddenly needed to end this, before I got any more confused.
“I saw you today on campus, Banton. I saw you with your girlfriend. I didn’t realize…I mean… it never occurred to me you were involved with someone. I feel really dumb, I’ve been letting myself…that I’ve been inviting…well, that I’ve left myself open where you are concerned. I’m sorry; I was making some wrong assumptions. This won’t get weird, okay? We just need to draw some lines and just be roommates. I’m a big girl.” I took a deep breath, and sighed. “I understand if it would be strange to take a trip with another girl, so I think I’ll just go visit Constance by myself. Thanks, anyway.”
“Another girl?” Even in the darkness, I could see the light dawning in his eyes as I spoke. A deep crease formed between his eyes. “Chandler, I’m so sorry. I realize now what the misunderstanding is. I don’t have a girlfriend. I haven’t been seeing anyone since, well, since I got out of active duty. Almost two years now.” He continued rubbing my back.
“But I saw you…” I trailed off.
“My younger sister, Julia. She came to town to the orthodontist this morning, and then surprised me after class. I took her to lunch before she had to go back.”
I tried to process what he was telling me. I felt so stupid. I had just spilled about what I was hoping was happening between us, and in the process, let him know I was obviously jealous! OOOOHHH NOOO. I wanted to just crawl under the covers and never come out. This was almost worse than the feeling I had when I thought he was seeing someone.
He continued, “I wanted you to meet her but she was in a hurry, so we only had time for a quick bite. I told her we would come to see her when we go to N’awlins this weekend. I hope our trip is still on?” he asked.
“Sure.” I said in a weak voice.
He sighed heavily. “I’ve been cautious, because you are so young, and you and John and I have become really good friends. I don’t want to mess anything up with our living arrangements.”
“I understand. Everything is fine. Please, don’t hold my jumping to conclusions against me; I’ve been acting like a crazy person ever since you moved in. I promise, more even-keel from now on.”
He laughed, and hugged me close, kissing me on the top of the head again. “Well, we’ve had quite a lot going on to get crazy about around here. It’s not your fault we seem to have a plague of peeping toms and snakes descending on us. Get some sleep, Andie girl.” He hugged me close again one last time and rose to leave.
“Goodnight, Banton,” I replied. As he closed the door to its half closed state like last night, I started mulling over what he’d said, or not said, about our relationship. He mentioned not once, but twice, my being so young. I knew he thought I was too young for him. He also said he didn’t want our living arrangement to get weird. I get it – he doesn’t want us to get romantically involved, and then break up. Then he would be homeless, or it would cause problems with
John.
I tossed and turned all night, and toward morning, decided I had to be resigned this little affair was over before it even began. We were just friends. I would not shed one more tear over Banton Gastaneau.
Chapter Twelve
Banton left early the next morning. About thirty minutes later, I heard Beau burst through the door and bound up the stairs to my bedroom. Banton had brought him home! When I left for class I was so relieved, for he was curled up on his normal spot on the rug in the foyer.
Once I was on campus I muddled through my classes, feeling down that I’d promised myself no more fantasies about Banton. I never realized how much I thought of him in a day’s time. I got out of class early, and flipped my cell open as I decided to call Everett to see if he could go to lunch before I went to the library.
“Hey, Bebe! How’s your day going?”
“Great, now that I’m talking to you. Can you meet me for lunch? I need some heart to heart time.”
“What’s happened?” he asked intuitively.
“A lot, actually. Can you meet me?”
“I’m so sorry, Darlin’. I have a date to meet a client about remodeling her bedroom. In fact, I just called your favorite handyman John to get in on the deal. He is coming with us. How about 4:00 when I leave the shop? Or you could come down here. I’ve got wine here, and I want you to see some new clothes I just got in.”
“Okay, sounds perfect. I’ll see you at 4:00.” I shut my phone and thought, Shoot! And I’m really hungry now. My total intake of food the past three days had been a biscuit and bacon on Sunday, coffee yesterday, and a donut on the way to class this morning. My clothes were beginning to hang on me due to the lack of an appetite since May. I ran over to the student center and grabbed a sandwich, and then hurried back outside. A beautiful, large oak tree grew in the courtyard out front. It looked so inviting, I walked over and dropped my book bag and computer down, and sat down and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. As I unwrapped my sandwich, I looked up into the massive branches and wondered how old the tree was. It must have been here at least 200 years. I thought of how many people had met under this tree, picnicked, done homework, kissed. The Spanish moss swayed back and forth in the breeze, and I shuddered. Indian summer was definitely over, and I would have to break out the jackets and boots soon.
“Why in the world would you drink a diet drink?” I heard Banton’s voice coming up from behind me.
“What’s wrong with diet cola?” I asked as he dropped down beside me on the grass.
“Well, for one thing, you can’t weigh more than one hundred fifteen pounds, and you need the calories, I think.”
“I drink them because I like the taste, not because they are diet. The real thing is too sweet,” I answered.
“So what are you up to?”
“Just hanging out before I head over to the library. I was going to ask Everett to lunch, but he had a client meeting. Hey, did you know he is including John in the meeting and is pitching a remodeling job his way?”
“No, that’s great!” he replied. “He is almost finished at our house, and he likes to keep busy. That guy can’t be still for one minute.”
He leaned back against the tree beside me, and turned his head to look right at me. He was so close…All right, Andie. You promised yourself, no more fantasies. NO MORE.
Banton continued, “So I was thinking, we can get up early Friday morning, load your SUV, and head out. I’d like to stop at my parents’ on the way, and let you meet my family. Then we can meet up with Constance, and have dinner with her Friday night. I could take you shopping that afternoon. I know all the shops my mom and sisters like to hit. I don’t mind doing the “waiting on the bench” thing. Then we can make the cemetery tours Saturday morning. It’s an all day thing, if we do more than one.” He smiled as he paused. “How does that sound?”
“Sounds great. Can we start at St. Louis Cemetery? I want to visit Marie Laveau’s tomb and family plot.”
“We can have beignets at Café Du Monde on Decatur before the tour. They’re great. Have you ever had them?”
“Yes. My aunt used to fix them when I came to spend the summer.”
All of a sudden, Banton got really quiet. He stared at me intently, studying my eyes, as if he were trying to make his mind up about something. My heart began to race.
This had to top the list of my top five amazing moments. One minute we were talking about our trip to New Orleans, the next everything was still, and Banton was leaning in toward me so close I had to look back and forth at his dark eyes instead of staring at them simultaneously. My brain was telling me slow down…take in every sound, every line and curve of his face, his amazingly woodsy, clean, guy smell, the peaceful way the sunlight dappled the lush green grass under the large oak tree. It felt surreal – this was the moment I had fantasized about, had gone to sleep at night playing in my head, but never, never in a million years thought would happen. He was leaning in, studying my face, dropping his eyes to my lips as if he were savoring the same details I was. Was it possible? He really wanted to kiss me?
He paused, and tilted his head to one side, questioning whether to move closer to me. “Are we about to do something you will regret later – do you have any reservations?”
Being my insecure self, never ready with the sexy comeback- I simply replied, “Um, do what?”
Oh, why didn’t I say something like “Ask me after I’ve had a sample” or “I’ll worry about that tomorrow, Rhett.”
He smiled and the dimple at the corner of his mouth tugged at my heart. His breath smelled amazingly sweet and hot against my lips as he whispered, “You have that deer in the headlights look right now…” And then he closed his lips over mine, breathing into my mouth ever so slightly at first, and then his lips began to move. He seemed to be testing my response. I sucked in my breath sharply, and I just knew my heartbeat had to be so loud it was pounding in his head as well as mine. He reached his hand up to stroke the back of my hair, and then cupped his hand around the back of my head, holding me there. This wasn’t like the soft kiss the night he held me when I told him about my parents. This wasn’t a kiss like the ones he’d given me on the top of my head. I instinctively reached my hands up to wind them around his neck.
Then something in his mood changed. The kiss became more forceful. His tongue traced the outline of my lips, brushing the edges of my teeth. I responded with a soft moan. He took that as my approval. His tongue gently tested the inside of my mouth. The move was so intimate, like he wanted to reach inside me.
There seemed to be heat radiating from the core of my body. I had read about this sensation in books – Oh, stupid romance novels! Nothing could describe this feeling. It was like the warmth you feel wash over you when a powerful painkiller takes effect, but every nerve in your body is on high alert.
I tasted him, he tasted back. How could just a kiss be so sensual? He slid his hand around to my cheek, tracing his fingers down my jaw line as he drew his lips away. The dimple was gone – in its place, a tick of the muscle under his jaw. I raised my eyes to look into his, and they burned…no, they smoldered back. He looked almost angry.
What had I done wrong? The word “insecure” didn’t cover what I felt at this sudden, angry gaze.
“I’m so sorry, I, I don’t know what…” I took my hands away from him and folded them in my lap.
“Wait,” he interrupted, “I think you have this all wrong. I’m not angry, Andie. I’m trying to get control of myself here. I’m doing this all wrong. I didn’t plan for it to come out this way.” He looked down abruptly, hiding his face from my view.
“For what to come out? What are you saying?” I paused, and pondered his mood. “Oh, I get it. You tried to tell me last night. You don’t want to mess the roommate/friends thing up. I just wish you hadn’t just kissed me like that! You’re attracted to me, but you don’t want to get involved that way.”
Banton’s head jerked back up, and his eyes warmed sudden
ly. “I am involved. Completely involved!” he said forcefully. “I wanted to take this slower, test your feelings, be sure of how you would respond. I’m so much older than you are, Chandler. I felt I needed to keep my distance, not make any moves on you. You’re still so young. I’ve never felt this way about anyone! I want to shelter you, take care of you.”
He paused as he looked at me, and I felt like I was melting into his eyes.
He whispered, “It’s too late to worry about all that now. I’m in love with you, Chandler. I’m tired of holding back.” We sat there several moments in silence, just gazing at each other. Then all of a sudden he blurted, “I want you. God, I hope I haven’t scared you off by spilling it all out like this – I had a plan, dammit!”
I couldn’t trust what I was hearing. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience, and I couldn’t find the right response. He was saying he loved me? He loved ME? All of the pent-up emotions, the agony of falling for someone I thought could never feel that way about me – all rushed out into my eyes. The tears pooled around my bottom lids as I slowly raised my lashes to look up at him.
He reached up to wipe the tears carefully, first under one eye, then the other with his thumb, and turned his hand around to cup his fingers around the bend of my jaw line.
“Please say something! What are you thinking?”
I leaned my head into his chest, resting the top of my head just under his chin. “I’m thinking I’m dreaming.” I paused and drew a deep breath. “I’m about to wake up, and realize I just had one of those dreams where you don’t want to wake up.” I glanced up at him again. “You…you love me?”
“Completely. I – I can’t even put my feelings into words.”
I whispered as I looked up at him, “I can. You are my whole world. You are all I think about. When I’m not with you, I ache inside.”
He stared into my eyes, and continued slowly “I can’t concentrate on anything – I’ve been so distracted by you while we worked on the house together. Then when John and I moved in with you, it got harder, not easier. I told myself my feelings were just protective – that I was just worried about you. When I’m not with you, I catch my thoughts drifting to questions like, ‘What is she thinking? Is she scared of what has been going on at the house? Does she want to go on with this relationship, does she think about me when we aren’t together? What does she do when she goes up to her room every night?’ I can feel the warmth from you through the wall between our rooms. I toss and turn at night knowing you are just on the other side of the wall. I know I sound obsessed. I guess I am.”
Southern Comfort: Chandler's Story (The Southern Series Book 1) Page 11