Before the Storm (The Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 9)

by Melanie Schuster

  “Yes, I am. That girl is a mess, asking him point-blank if he were financially able to care for me in the way I was accustomed! Ooh, that child is something else,” Ruth said fondly. “But the best part was watching Paris on the red carpet. Wasn’t she gorgeous?”

  She and Mac had shared the big chair and everyone else was comfortably seated as the pre-award festivities were aired. Ruth was afraid that Paris would get lost in the shuffle, but there was no chance of that. “Oh, Julian, look at her! Look at our baby, isn’t she beautiful?” Ruth had screamed in her excitement but no one paid that any attention, even Mac. Paris did indeed look radiantly lovely on the arm of her college friend, Billy Watanabe. Billy had been nominated for best score and best original song and he and Paris looked elegant and sexy as they strolled into the Kodak Theatre with all the other participants. But people kept stopping them to interview Billy and basically to gawk at Paris, who was wearing a custom-made gown that made her look like the brightest star in the Hollywood constellation that night.

  “Yes, sugar, she’s a beauty all right. And you and Julian looked like proud parents while you were watching her. In fact, that little idiot Kimmi kept hunching me with her elbow and pointing at the two of you, all teary-eyed and sentimental. It was hard to believe you two haven’t been together forever. Is that why you’re running away? Does that make you uncomfortable?” Sylvia’s face was warm with concern for her friend.

  “No, that’s not it, exactly. I think it was New Orleans that did it,” she said dolefully.

  Sylvia’s look went from concerned to calculating. “That’s right, you went to visit him. Did something bad happen? Did he show a side of himself none of us knew existed? Did one of his old girlfriends come to the house...?”

  Ruth unfolded her legs and slid off the bed. “Syl, are you still watching those soap operas? How do you have time for that mess, busy as you are? Come in the kitchen, I need some tea or something.”

  “I only watch Days and I TiVo it. So what happened when you went down there? Was it terrible?”

  “Sylvia, it was absolutely wonderful. Just perfect. And that’s the problem.”

  ***

  Mac lived in a Greek-revival-style house typical of the Garden District in New Orleans. It was relatively small, which meant there were only five bedrooms. The two-story house with the big pillars in the front enchanted Ruth right away, as did the beautifully landscaped lawn and the garden in the back of the house. The highlight of the house, for Ruth, was the dining room, which led into a solarium that opened directly onto the patio. The ceilings of both rooms were paned glass that made the area irresistibly sunny and inviting. The sunroom was full of thriving green plants and the garden beyond was just coming into its spring growth and Ruth could imagine having a late breakfast out there, drinking in the sunlight and the enticing smell of the greenery. She couldn’t help herself, she sat down on a big wicker chair cushioned with overstuffed pillows and stared out the window with a sigh of enjoyment. Bojangles, Mac’s cat, joined her, leaping into her lap and settling down for a nice nap.

  She smiled at the memory as she shared it with Sylvia.

  “Julian said that meant he approved of me. He said Bojangles normally avoided all visitors, but he’d taken a liking to me. He and Bojangles gave me a tour of the whole house and it’s just lovely, Syl. It looks like something out of Architectural Digest. And just when I was thinking that his late wife has exceptional taste, it was like he could read my mind. He told me that he and Ginger lived in Lafayette, Louisiana. She’d passed away before he moved the family to New Orleans. But he had pictures of her on display and she really was a beauty. Paris looks just like her,” she said thoughtfully.

  Sylvia gave her a fake grin and drummed her fingers on the counter. “You’re dragging this out on purpose. If you’re going to keep me in suspense you’ve got to feed me. Do you have any veggies in there?” she asked, pointed to the refrigerator.

  As she prepared cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, celery and baby carrots and a low-fat blue cheese dip to go with the iced tea they were drinking, Ruth hastened to get the rest of the story out. “We had a fabulous time that weekend; New Orleans is a beautiful city, Syl. We went sightseeing, we had dinner at Emeril’s and Antoine’s, his sons came over one night and Julian grilled chicken and fish for us, we went dancing at Tipitina’s, and of course we went to the French Quarter. I met his friends, we went to church on Sunday and the only person I met who could qualify as an old girlfriend was a family friend named Charmaine something or other. She seemed a little bit too interested in my presence, if you know what I mean, but you know how old family friends are,” she said carelessly.

  “As far as I’m concerned the weekend was perfectly lovely. I adore Julian and the feeling only gets stronger every time we’re together.’

  Sylvia was stunned into silence for a moment. “So he doesn’t feel the same way, sugar? He certainly looked like he’s crazy about you. Were we just assuming too much?”

  Ruth’s green eyes got a faraway look and the sigh that came from her chest seemed to start from the deepest recesses of her soul. “Not at all. Julian loves me very much, Sylvia. In fact, he asked me to marry him.”

  Sylvia was so stunned she forgot to swallow, allowing iced tea to roll down her chin onto her soft pink shirt. Ruth quickly handed her paper towels to stem the tide while she finished telling her the news.

  ***

  It was late morning, the day that Ruth was scheduled to depart. Mac had risen before her, mainly because she was so deeply asleep he didn’t want to disturb her slumber. She eventually came awake with Bojangles’s help. The big black-and-white cat had leaped onto the bed and was patting her face with his paw while issuing a musical little purring sound. She blinked her way to consciousness and smiled.

  “Good morning, Bojangles. I hope I wasn’t snoring,” she cooed as he nuzzled her cheek. She didn yt know where Julian was but she decided she‘d better get showered and pretty before he came back into the massive master bedroom suite.

  She brushed her teeth thoroughly, took a long hot shower with copious amounts of her K de Krizia bath gel and managed to dry off, lotion her entire body with the matching lotion and finish off with the eau de parfum, and still no Julian. This gave her enough time to fix her hair, apply a little makeup and change the sheets. She had just finished putting the bed back together with the crisp blue-and-white striped linens she’d found in the linen closet when Julian appeared in the doorway.

  “Good morning, honey. You look adorable. Are you hungry?”

  “You look pretty cute yourself,” she said. He did, too, in a pair of chino slacks, a navy T-shirt and a pinstriped cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His feet were bare and he looked casual but delectable.

  “Of course I’m hungry. I’m always hungry in the morning.”

  “Well, do you feel like being pampered?” He put a long finger under her chin and tipped her head back for a kiss as he did so.

  Ruth savored his kiss and gave him one of her own before answering.

  “Actually, I do feel like being pampered a little. What do you have in mind?”

  “I thought I’d make brunch for you and serve it to you in the solarium and then give you a massage. Is that agreeable?”

  “Only if I can return the massage,” she said with a smile. “I give a very good one. And why didn yt you wake me up this morning? If Bojangles hadn’t come to get me I’d probably still be asleep”

  “I thought you might need some extra rest. We didn ‘t do a lot of sleeping last night” he said, pulling her into his arms.

  Ruth could feel heat all over, and not just in her erogenous zones. He was completely correct; they did very little sleeping the previous night. What they did was make love from the time the door closed behind them until the very early dawn. They’d spent the evening in the Quarter, laughing and talking and enjoying the jazz and honky-tonk music that poured out of the many bars and restaurants that lined the fabled streets. They st
arted kissing the minute they hit the back door of the house and each kiss got more arousing until they started a mutual striptease that began in the kitchen. First her sandals landed in a corner, startling Bojangles, who promptly left the room. Then Mac ‘s shoes left his feet to join hers.

  His sport coat was tossed into the solarium, and his belt went into the dining room, then Ruth’s raw silk bolero jacket went flying. They continued to kiss each other with growing fervor as each item of clothing was discarded. By the time they reached the living room Ruth had shimmied out of her strapless sun dress and stood before her man in pink lace bikini panties and a matching strapless bra. She almost made it to the foot of the stairs before Mac grabbed her around the waist. He’d been delayed by removing his slacks and shirt, and he was clad only in his silk boxers. “Where‘re you goin’ honey? You’re not trying to run away from me, are you?”

  She turned around and smiled mischievously as she unhooked the front fastener of her bra. They kissed again, this time with Mac‘s hands caressing her breasts. They were walking up the stairs when Mac realized that in addition to walking backward, Ruth had deftly removed her panties and she was now totally nude. In seconds she found herself lifted into his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist. He placed her on the bed and stripped off his shorts before reaching for the condoms on the bedside table. As he put one on he looked down at Ruth with true adoration mixed with pure lust in his eyes.

  “Honey, I can‘t wait until we yre married so I can do away with these things. I want to feel every bit of your hot, wet, sweetness all over me,” he growled.

  ***

  Sylvia raised her finely arched eyebrows as she considered what Ruth had just told her. “I’m sure that was the edited version,” she said, grinning, “but I don’t know if that constitutes a proposal, sugar. Men say a lot of things in the heat of the moment.”

  “Too true, Syl, but it’s not like that’s the first time he brought it up. When he was here he said something about remodeling the master bath in his house after we’re married. He asked me if there were a lot of things I wanted to change about the house in New Orleans after we’re married. He hasn’t gone down on one knee or given me a ring, but for someone who’s not serious he sure brings it up a lot.”

  She had finished mopping up the counter, picked up the glasses, refilled them with tea and found a luscious pair of mocha brownies in the freezer where she’d hidden them from herself. She whipped them out with a flourish and nuked them while Sylvia considered her words.

  “Well, if I was a betting woman, I’d give you odds that ol’ boy is serious as a heart attack. Seeing as how you two are old enough and mature enough to know your own minds and emotions, he’s just taking it to the next level without a whole lot of foolish debate. He wants you, you want him, y’all are sho’ nuff in love, so to him it’s a done deal. And this is why you’re running to Hawaii with the speed of a thousand people. I say sit your butt down and talk to the man, that’s what I say. Don’t scamper off like some insecure soap opera diva, stand your ground and get some things cleared up,” Sylvia said firmly. Her eyes brightened as Ruth put a brownie in front of her, with a fresh linen napkin.

  “Syl, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know what to say to him. I love him to death, but marriage? There’s a reason I’ve reached this ripe age without benefit of clergy. I don’t think I have what it takes to be a wife, especially not now. It’s too late for me,” she began, only to have Sylvia cut her off with a roll of her eyes and an especially loud and unladylike suck of her teeth.

  “Let me ask you something. Did you feel like screaming at any time you were together? Did it annoy you to be in the same room with him? Were you looking for places to hide, places to be alone? Where you trying vainly to find things to talk about? Did you hate his friends?”

  “Of course not, Syl! Whenever we’re together I feel happy and peaceful. I’m relaxed in his company and he’s totally comfortable in mine. We have great conversations about any and everything and his friends are charming,” she said emphatically. She thought a moment and added, “Well, I could do without that Charmaine but everyone else was wonderful. I love being with him and all I want is more time with him and his family. His sons are hilarious and you know that Paris is my girl,” she said with a spirited assurance.

  “And yet you want to scuttle off to Hawaii like a hermit crab. Does this make sense? Any sense at all?” Sylvia chided her.

  Ruth was saved by the bell as her cell phone went off. Her face paled and she clutched the counter. “I’m on my way, darling. I love you.”

  “Sylvia, I have to get to Atlanta right now. They got that sick bastard who was after Paris.”

  Chapter 13

  Mac looked over at Ruth, who was sleeping soundly in the passenger seat of his Cadillac Escalade. She was curled up comfortably with the seat reclined and her head was resting on a soft velour pillow he’d procured just for her. It was two days before the first weekend in May and they were heading to his friend Lincoln’s horse farm in Louisville, Kentucky. To horse breeders all over the world the first weekend in May meant one thing; the legendary “Run for the Roses”, the Kentucky Derby. To him it meant something else, though; it meant that he and Ruth had been seeing each other for three months. Three of the most pleasurable months he’d ever had in his life, actually. He was ready to pledge his life to the woman beside him, an act that most people would call extremely foolish, but Mac knew it was right.

  It wasn’t her beauty, her intelligence or her vivacious personality; although the good Lord knew they all played a part in her appeal. It was her heart that had drawn Mac in and held him captive. They had talked on the phone at least once a day since the day they met, sometimes two or three times a day. They had spent time together in New York, Atlanta, Chicago and New Orleans and now they were taking the ultimate “couple test,” a road trip to Kentucky. But during all that time what had impressed Mac the most about Ruth was her unlimited capacity for love. She doted on his daughter and loved her like she was her own. She loved her nieces and nephews and her multitude of friends and treated them like they were the most important people in the world. And she had opened her heart to Mac and loved him unreservedly with the fervor of a young girl combined with the sultry confidence of a mature woman. When she smiled at him, when she touched him or he just heard her voice, he knew, deep in his heart, that she was the one.

  When she raced to be with him after Paris’s accident, he knew. When she dropped everything to come to him when the man who’d been after Paris was captured, he knew. It might seem like the ultimate folly to fall so deeply in love after such a short time, but at fifty-seven he was experienced enough and lucky enough to know the real thing when it was handed to him so sweetly by his own daughter, of all people. And if things proceeded according to plan, this was the weekend he was going to make it official. The ring he’d had made for her delicate finger was burning a hole in his 9pocket; he couldn’t wait to put it on her. Even Julian, the son with the bitter taste in his mouth regarding love, acknowledged that this was the real deal. Mac still got a smile out of remembering the look on Julian’s face when he came over the morning that Ruth was due to depart for Chicago.

  To his credit, Mac thought he’d done a thorough job of removing all traces of the activities of the night before, but he’d missed a couple of things. Julian had come in the back door and was surprised to see his father preparing what looked like a feast in the large modernized kitchen.

  “Dang, Judge, you’re throwing down in here. Coffee, beignets from the Quarter, cheese grits, grillades, fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, biscuits.. .is it somebody’s birthday and I just forgot?” He’d licked his lips with gusto and was reaching for a plate when Mac warned him off.

  “This is a special meal for a special person, so I suggest you take yourself on down the road and find a Sonic or a Mickey D’s,” he said sternly.

  Before Julian could protest, Bojangles had come strolling into the kitchen dr
agging something lacy and pink in his mouth. Julian took it out of the cat’s mouth and dropped it at once when he realized it was a strapless bra.

  “Uhh, okay Pop, I gotta run. Talk to you later, I’m sure,” he muttered as he made a dash for the same door he’d entered. He’d paused for a minute and looked his father in the eye. “You did good, Pop. Ruth is a wonderful woman and she’s just what you’ve needed for a long time. I call best man,” he added as he slipped out quietly.

  Mac had laughed out loud as he retrieved the bra while scolding Bojangles. “I was looking for that. Get your own woman, you little pervert.” Bojangles just rolled over and purred loudly.

  Now they were taking a road trip, a tradition that was supposed to sound the death knell for couples. Especially new couples like him and Ruth. So far though, it had been nothing but fun. She was perfectly happy to let him drive, although she would take over the wheel from time to time. They didn’t quibble over which music to play because they were so busy talking they didn’t care what was on. At one point she turned to him and confessed that they could be going anywhere and it wouldn’t make her a bit of difference.

  “But,” she added hastily, “I’m really glad we’re going to the Derby. I still can’t believe that I’m actually going to see it in person after all those years of wanting to go.”

  Mac had a friend named Lincoln Alexander who’d been a trainer for years before starting his own breeding farm. Mac had partnered with him in the purchase of a thoroughbred named, appropriately, Kentucky Rain. The colt was now a three-year-old and an odds-on favorite in the Derby. Mac was happy to be able to have Ruth come with him to watch the race, something she eagerly agreed to do. She had an avid interest in horses, yet another thing they had in common. She flew to New Orleans to drive up to Kentucky with him, and then would go to Atlanta with him for Paris’s birthday.

  Long car rides were supposed to be torture for couples, but so far the ten-hour trip from Louisiana was proving to be a lot of fiin. Ruth didn’t question his directional skills, partially because the SUV was equipped with OnStar, and she didn’t require an excessive amount of bathroom breaks. She had packed them a gourmet lunch to be consumed on the road, she loved telling jokes and she smelled lovely, as always. As far as Mac was concerned, she was the perfect companion. She stirred slightly in the seat, and then yawned daintily and her eyes popped open. She always woke quickly and she always seemed to be in a good mood. Mac had known his share of women who went to sleep as sweet as baby bunnies and wakened like Stegosauruses, so this was a pleasant change.