Tall, Dark, and Cajun

by Sandra Hill

  It was David.

  She had no idea how he’d found her, or why he was here. Right now, it didn’t matter. He represented a familiar face in a world that was collapsing around her. Without thinking, she ran into his open arms.

  What you see isn’t always what it appears

  Remy came around the side of the building and halted in his tracks. Rachel. In the arms of another man! A stranger. He knew—he just knew, without ever having met him or even seeing a picture—it was the infamous ex-fiancé.

  If his heart had been aching before, it felt as if it was being ripped right out of his chest now. Rachel—his Rachel—letting another man hold her. How could she?

  Did she call the jerk?

  Is she going back to the jerk?

  What happened to the love she professed for me?

  Almost immediately, Remy reversed himself.

  I should have told her I was leaving.

  I should have called her.

  I should have gone to pick her up.

  I should have come sooner.

  Remy was so mixed up he didn’t know what to think. Maybe he should just wait and think this through before approaching her; be certain what he wanted, or more accurately, was willing to surrender in order to keep her.

  You snooze, you lose, the voice in his head advised.

  “Shut up!”

  “Hey, we didn’t even say anything,” Luc said, walking up to him, with Tee-John at his side.

  “Hello to you, too,” Remy said grumpily.

  “Go after her,” Luc said, nodding his head toward where Rachel was walking into the terminal with the guy’s arm over her shoulder. He wanted to yank the guy’s arm out of its socket for taking such liberties, but he had no right. He shook his head.

  “You want to. Do it, for chrissake.”

  “No!”

  “She’s really nice,” Tee-John interjected. “You made her cry a lot. She tried to hide it from us, but we could tell.”

  Remy couldn’t take much more of this. “Thanks for helping me out,” he said to both of them and turned toward the parking lot. He wished Luc and Tee-John would just go home and leave him alone. He needed to be alone, preferably with a bottle of booze. A two-day bender appeared in order. But, no, the two thorns in his butt fell in beside him.

  “Did you know that you can have sex with a girl when she’s on the rag?” Tee-John announced out of the blue.

  He and Luc turned as one to gape at their brother.

  “What? It’s true. Rachel said so.”

  “I can’t imagine any conversation in the world in which that subject might have come up.” Luc was shaking his head hopelessly at Tee-John, who just grinned.

  “I asked her. What’s wrong with that? No one else tells me anything.”

  “You are incredible,” was the only thing Remy could think of to say.

  Then Tee-John began, “Remy, have you ever had—”

  “Don’t ask. Don’t ask,” Luc advised, breaking out with laughter.

  Remy hadn’t taken Luc’s other advice. Why should he start now? “Have I ever had what?”

  “A penile ring?”

  Remy burst out with hysterical laughter then. And he didn’t stop ’til tears filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

  Luc understood, though, as always. He looped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed. “You can fix this, Remy. Tomorrow.”

  Unfortunately, Remy knew that for some guys tomorrow never came.

  Chapter 20

  Sometimes the frog turns into a prince, and some-times . . .

  “Why did you come here, David?”

  Rachel leaned back against the headrest, inhaling the rich aroma of the butter-soft, platinum-colored leather in David’s BMW as they headed back toward Houma. The car drove so smoothly, they never felt a bump in the road, or heard a sound of traffic from outside.

  After weeks of living practically out of doors with all the sounds and smells of nature assailing her at every turn, the luxury of David’s car struck her in the oddest way. She soon realized what it was. She felt as if she was in a coffin.

  “I came because I love you,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Now that surprised Rachel. She sat up straighter and looked at him with interest. Truth to tell, she had been waiting for him to ask about his precious Roseville vase.

  “I never doubted that you loved me, David.”

  “Yeah, well, I behaved like an ass. I realized that soon after you left. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and come back.”

  Surprise, surprise!

  David wore a Ralph Lauren golf shirt and Boss slacks with a perfectly ironed crease and designer loafers—casual wear for him. His hair was perfectly groomed. His aftershave was subtle and expensive. He was a good-looking man. Physically fit. Intelligent. A doctor, for heaven’s sake.

  But Rachel felt nothing when she looked at him, and that made her feel good.

  “You’re smiling,” he said. “I take that as a good sign.”

  “David—” she started to say. There must have been something in her voice that alerted him to potential bad news.

  “Don’t say anything now.” He put a hand over hers on the seat, and kept it there. “You’ve been through an ordeal, sweetheart. You need to rest and recover. Let’s see how things go while I’m here. We’ll go out to dinner. See some sights. Then, we can talk. Okay?”

  “You’re staying here, in Louisiana?” For the life of her, she couldn’t picture David down on the bayou. “For how long?”

  “Three days, max.”

  Max meant that he expected her to capitulate before then. Rachel didn’t have the heart to argue with him about it right now. She had too many other things on her mind. And she had been through an ordeal, for sure.

  “Turn here,” she said, then gave him directions to her grandmother’s house. “How did you find me, by the way?”

  He winked at her.

  How was it that one wink from Remy and her bones melted, and David’s wink didn’t do a thing for her? How was it that David was a near-perfect physical specimen, except for the receding hairline, whereas Remy was half- mangled skin, and yet there wasn’t any doubt in her mind which was the more appealing man?

  “Actually, I did a nose job on the wife of a DEA official last week. I gave him a break on the price, and he gave me a little inside information. Don’t look at me like that. It’s the Beltway Barter Club, baby. That’s the way things are done in the capital.”

  “Well, the whole drug mess is over now. It’s unbelievable how I got involved to begin with. A pure case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  He nodded. “You can give me the details later. Tell me about your grandmother. Are you enjoying your visit? What’s she like?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. That’s the road right there. Go left, then a sharp right into the driveway.” Hank’s red truck was still parked there beside the house.

  David’s mouth dropped open. “It’s a cabin—a freakin’ cabin—right out of a Dogpatch cartoon!” He didn’t realize how offensive his words were.

  “So?” she said, bristling.

  He must have realized his mistake because he quickly added, “How quaint!”

  Her grandmother was already coming down the steps, and Beau stood on the porch.

  She heard the electric lock on the doors click suddenly. “Be careful, Rachel. That old hag looks dangerous, and that trailer park dude with the rifle looks no better.”

  “David! That’s my grandmother and my cousin.”

  His jaw dropped down practically to his Polo crest. “No way!” Then, “Oh, Rach! You poor thing! You have been through an ordeal in more ways than one.”

  She pressed the button to lower her window and yelled out, “Granny! I’m home.” She wasn’t about to let David spoil her homecoming.

  Her grandmother smiled widely as she hobbled quickly toward her. As she crossed the yard, she spit a stream of tobacco juice into the grass.


  David groaned and put his face against the steering wheel.

  Rachel smiled at David’s discomfort. She could only imagine how appalled he must be. In his defense, she remembered being a bit appalled herself, at first.

  “Unlock the door, David.”

  He did, after raising his head and staring at her dolefully.

  She felt sorry for him, but only for a second. Because then, just before she exited his vehicle, he said the one thing that cinched things for her.

  “Just out of curiosity, where’s my Roseville vase?”

  And if that wasn’t enough, as she began to exit the car, he remarked with alarm, “Honey, have you gained weight?” He was staring at her butt.

  Only the lonely

  Two weeks later, Remy was so miserable he could barely function. He’d tried drinking, reading, working, even bowling—if that wasn’t pathetic, what was?—but nothing could take his mind off Rachel.

  He’d heard that the doctor dude had left town, but he wasn’t sure if that was significant or not, because he’d also heard that Rachel was making plans to leave herself. In fact, Charmaine had taken great pains to go out of her way and inform him that she and Rachel had gone shopping together for goodbye gifts. The whole time Charmaine relayed this information, she glowered at him and muttered, “Dumb men! Talk about!”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Luc said as he stepped inside his houseboat and slipped on one of the dozens of Ping-Pong balls that littered the floor.

  Great! That’s what I need in the mood I’m in. Company. “Playing Ping-Pong hoops. Isn’t that obvious?” Remy was leaning back in a chair on the other side of the room tossing the little plastic balls into the pottery vase sitting on the table next to the doorway. He was getting quite good at it, too. Some of them he dunked in big arcing shots from across the room. Some he dunked by bouncing them off the wall first. It was a sign of his extreme boredom, or depression, that he got his jollies this way. “What are you doing here, on a workday yet?”

  “Tante Lulu and Sylvie made me come.”

  He arched an eyebrow at that news.

  “They’re worried about you. I am, too.”

  “Stop worrying. I’m a big boy.”

  “Sometimes you don’t act like one.” Luc walked over to the fridge and took out a long neck.

  “Mon Dieu, you came to give me the big brother lecture, didn’t you?”

  “Damn straight!” Luc took a long swig of beer, then looked around the room, as if noticing it for the first time. “Hey, the houseboat looks great, other than the Ping-Pong balls. Rachel Feng Shuied you up real good.”

  He walked around the room examining the skylight, the plush cushions on the window seats, the drapes, the kitchen galley booth. Then he ducked his head in the bedroom and grinned back at him. “Verrry nice. I especially like the shrine with all those heart thingees, and that big ol’ plant that looks like badass red tongues sticking out at you.”

  “That last was probably a symbolic gesture from Rachel.”

  “For sure.” Coming back into the main area Luc peeked into the bathroom and said, “Sonofagun! I want one of those.” He was referring to the high-tech shower, of course. “Not much room to piss or brush your teeth but who the hell cares with that water-massage mecca.”

  “Rachel did a good job,” Remy admitted.

  Luc pulled a chair over to sit next to him and tried a few Ping-Pong shots himself, most of which bounced off the vase. “Hope that thing isn’t expensive.”

  Remy shrugged. “I’m sure it isn’t or Rachel would have billed me for it.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  Remy shook his head.

  “Have you called her?”

  “I called yesterday . . . five times. She refused to talk to me.”

  “How many times did you call her before that?”

  Remy declined to answer.

  “How many times did you go over there?”

  Remy still declined to answer.

  “Oh, please, don’t tell me you waited two friggin’ weeks and then you did something so impersonal as calling her on the phone? Tsk-tsk! Haven’t I taught you anything about women?”

  “Apparently not. Besides, her boyfriend was here, at first.”

  “Give me a break, bro. You’ve never been afraid of competition a day in your life. There has to be some other reason. You had an argument. Big deal! What could be so important that you tucked tail and ran?”

  Luc was really beginning to annoy him. “You don’t even know me. So, don’t try to psychoanalyze me.”

  Stunned, Luc turned in his seat to look at him directly. “I don’t know you? Are you insane? I know you inside and out.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Tell me, Remy. For God’s sake, I can see that it’s eating you alive. What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t have kids.” Immediately, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he have blurted out his secret after all these years?

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t.”

  “Ever?”

  “Not ever.”

  Silence reigned for a minute that seemed like a year. When he opened his eyes, Luc was standing before him with tears in his eyes. Tears, for the love of God! Before he had a chance to shove him aside, his brother pulled him up and into his arms, giving him a tight hug. “Jesus H. Christ, Remy! Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “Because I knew you’d behave like this,” Remy said, putting his brother aside, gently. “What I do not need any more of in my life is pity.”

  “I don’t pity you, you dumb shit. I feel your pain the same way you would for me. But, dammit, it’s not the end of the world.”

  “Easy for you to say with three kids and a vasectomy.”

  Luc sucked in his breath at the insult. He probably would have socked him if they weren’t brothers. “So, Rachel dumped you ’cause you can’t have kids, huh?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Then what? It’s obvious you love her, and vice versa.”

  “At first, she was furious because I didn’t tell her. Then I got mad at her because she went and discussed my sterility with two of her friends—a major breach of confidence. Then she got hurt by me because I made a dumbass remark about not ever wanting to adopt unwanted freak kids from foster care.”

  “Let me guess. Rachel was in foster care at one time?”

  “Bingo.”

  Luc shook his head at his hopelessness. “And then you left without telling her, didn’t call to tell her you were all right, and didn’t go back to pick her up yourself. Does that about sum it up?”

  “Yep.”

  “I would say the slate of affronts is about even, but you missed the mark bigtime, when you didn’t contact her for two asinine weeks. Why didn’t you go over there?”

  “Gizelle would probably have met me with a gun.”

  “Speaking of Gizelle .. .?”

  “Last week’s meeting is rescheduled for tomorrow in your office, as you would know if you’d consult your secretary’s calendar.”

  “Oh, Remy, what am I going to do with you? Is having children that important to you?”

  “Yeah, I think it is.”

  “You and Rachel alone . . . that wouldn’t be enough?”

  “It would be for me. I’m not sure about her. Family is super high in her list of priorities. She envies our family, if you can believe it.”

  “What’s wrong with adoption?”

  “That’s what she said. But, Luc, if I adopted kids, people would know about another one of my flaws.”

  “You are bigtime screwed up if that bothers you so much.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you love Rachel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you miserable without her?”

  Remy looked pointedly at the Ping-Pong balls surrounding them.

  “Then, why would you give a pig’s tail what anyone else thinks if ad
opting a kid makes you both happy? And, besides, this whole disaster isn’t about kids, and you know it. If you and Rachel loved each other, the rest could be worked out some way . . . with or without kids.”

  “It’s probably too late.”

  “How would you know if you don’t really try?”

  Hello Goodbye

  Rachel was planning to leave next week for Washington.

  She would probably return to Louisiana again someday for another visit, but not for a long, long time. She’d invited her grandmother and Beau to come visit her at Christmas— she would be settled in her own place by then—and, although Granny had demurred at first, she hadn’t actually said no.

  David had finally returned to the city after his “three days max.” It had taken her all that time to convince him that their relationship was truly and finally over. She had no intention of seeing him again. Maybe he really did love her. Then again, his last words to her, once he accepted her decision, were questions about his missing vase and a not-so-subtle suggestion that she invest in a new Butt Buster machine. Besides that, she was pretty sure David’s love couldn’t withstand a grandma-in-law who might spit tobacco juice on his designer leather shoes.

  She’d already called Daphne and told her when she’d return to work. She’d already given her grandmother and Beau their parting gifts. She’d already completed her work at Charmaine’s spa and Remy’s houseboat. She had, of course, supervised the final work on the houseboat, but always when Remy was away. She had no idea how Remy felt about the renovations because she’d just sent him a bill. Charmaine, on the other hand, was ecstatic over the job, but most especially the window aquarium which had been installed two days ago. The local newspaper even did a story about it, which should further enhance spa business.

  Throughout it all, Rachel operated like a zombie. Numb was the only way to describe her feelings. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about Remy at all or she would break down. There were so many things he’d done which she could not forgive, but the most significant was the things he had not done. He had not told her about his sterility until after they were involved. He had not informed her that he worked with the DEA. He had not told her he was leaving the cabin. He had not called to tell her he was wounded but safe. He had not come to pick her up. And, most hurtful of all, he had not tried to contact her for two whole weeks. The jerk! As if she would talk to him after all this time!