Love, Alabama (Alabama Series Book 2)

by Susan Sands

  Don’t hurt my family or I’ll hurt you. Matthew believed the older man. He was intimidating in that split-second. Had Emma mentioned that Howard had been in some kind of secret government ops all these years?

  Matthew gave what he hoped was a reassuring nod.

  After the ladies changed out of their bridesmaid finery, Ms. Maureen announced, “Okay, everyone, it’s time to eat!” She called them into the very large kitchen to serve plates family-style. Like everything else at Evangeline House, the kitchen was built to create food for an army or two, but somehow still maintained a welcoming atmosphere without feeling too industrial. The island in the middle was a huge granite slab that currently held tonight’s dinner. A massive pot rack hung high above it, and held many high-end cookware pieces of all sorts.

  It was obvious where Cammie’s love of cooking had been cultivated. It was a veritable playground for anyone who might have the slightest inclination to try their hand at baking or being creative with food of any kind.

  “You are looking around like you’ve never seen a kitchen before,” Emma said, startling him.

  “This one is especially impressive.”

  She looked around. “I hardly notice it anymore. I grew up with everyone in a constant state of preparation for some event or another. There was either a wedding or a massive party of one kind or another all the time, but that was the family business, so we all strapped on an apron and helped out.”

  “Do you cook?” He asked.

  “Of course. We all do. Cammie just went the official route and pursued it as a profession by going to culinary school. We’ve all been making pastries and following all sorts of recipes since we were kids. It’s kind of second nature in this family. Ben is a fantastic cook, as well.”

  This surprised him a little. “I’ve never seen you do anything but take out.” She blushed. He assumed she was remembering their last shared takeout experience at her house. He certainly was.

  “Well, takeout has its benefits, you know.” Then she spun on her heel with her full plate and headed toward the large kitchen table, which was teeming with her family.

  This vein of conversation would wait until they had a bit more privacy. Smart girl.

  Emma gave as good as she got as the family took shots at each other during the course of dinner. In fact, she even seemed to be more likely to jump in with both feet and mix it up with the guys than the other sisters. She was certainly feisty and not likely to back down. He liked that about her. But it didn’t add up. Emma didn’t seem like the type to run from a fight or be afraid of anything or anyone. But she lived like she was afraid to upset or offend Tad Beaumont. What did she really think he was capable of?

  “Do you want a slice of cherry or pecan?” Lucy asked Matthew.

  It took him a second to realize what she was asking. “Definitely pecan,” he said.

  “Me too.” She grinned.

  What a delightful child. It made him wonder about his niece; how she was enjoying preschool, and if she knew her letters and numbers yet. These were things he’d not even given consideration to recently, or hardly ever. Oh, he thought about his niece and nephew. He loved them, but since there wasn’t time to spend with them, or because he didn’t make the time, he didn’t allow himself the luxury of thinking about their day-to-day lives. Because if he did that, it would only serve to make him feel worse.

  “Me too,” Lucy gave her solid nod of approval.

  Matthew suddenly began to look more forward to his trip home in two weeks. Not because he wanted to subject himself to his homegrown roots. Never that. Those were some of the hardest years of his life. Maybe they weren’t all bad, but the memories that had stayed in the forefront of his mind weren’t the positive ones.

  He fervently hoped his brother-in-law wasn’t a cheating asshole, and that there had been some kind of gossipy error. It was entirely possible in the small community where he grew up. Chapman was almost an exact mirror to Ministry, with the same kind of narrow thinking and hyper-focus on friends’ and neighbors’ lives and activities without heed to the consequence of how spreading one’s opinions versus hard facts might do harm. Of course, when confronted, the rumor-spreaders never meant to hurt anyone.

  Matthew could only imagine what the locals were saying about his mother’s descent into chronic gambling. He shuddered.

  “Everything okay? You look like you’re fretting.” Emma asked as the clean up from dinner began.

  “Fretting? No, not fretting. Just thinking about work.”

  “Oh? Everything okay with the show?”

  “Yes, but the new stylist the network sent is a little out of sorts.” This was all true.

  “Oh? What’s going on?” She asked as they both joined in clearing plates.

  “She’s, ah, a bit of a fish out of water here. Right now, she’s trying to find a place to rent, but not having any luck. So, she’s gotten a room at the motel in town.”

  “That’s odd. I know of several rentals around town that are available.”

  “Well, I think it might be her—appearance that’s keeping her from getting something.”

  “Uh-oh. Tattoos? Purple hair? Piercings?” Emma asked.

  “Only one tattoo that I know of and just a small streak of blue in her hair. Two or three earrings, but I can’t think of any others offhand.” He grinned.

  Tess’ style didn’t cause even an eye twitch in New York, but here in Ministry, she wasn’t only a new face in town, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

  “Gotcha. I can bring her around to meet a few of the property owners and vouch for her if you think it will help. Should I vouch for her?” Emma asked him, eyebrows raised.

  “She’s a nice girl. I’ve worked with her in the past and can personally attest that she’s not a freak and won’t paint the walls black.”

  “Okay. After the wedding, I’ll figure out a time and make a few calls,” she said and winked.

  Which caused a sudden tightening in the front of his pants. He looked away and focused on the pot rack.

  He cut his eyes to her and said out of the side of his mouth. “Thanks.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” She sidled up next to him.

  “I can’t look at you right now.” He continued to study the pot rack.

  “What? Why?”

  He muttered, “Because my body is behaving like I’m fifteen.”

  She giggled. “Oh. Sorry.”

  *

  “I hope I’m not interrupting a private conversation.” Her mother had somehow slid behind them without either of them noticing.

  “Hey, Mom. Matthew and I were just laughing about how big the kitchen here is.” Emma stifled another giggle.

  She assumed Matthew’s issue had immediately resolved with the approach of her mother.

  Maureen looked around as if she’d just noticed the size of her own kitchen. “Oh, I guess it is a good size, isn’t it?” She smiled at Matthew. “Young man, I wanted to personally invite you to our wedding Sunday. I do hope you can make it.”

  He grinned at the older woman. “I’d be honored.” Then, he glanced over at Emma. “Would you like to be my date for your mother’s wedding?”

  Really? Were these two in cahoots?

  “Well, of course, she would. Why do you think I asked you in front of her—so she couldn’t squirm out of it. Emma has been very resistant to being part of a couple, and since she invited you here with our family, it must mean she likes you. And there’s no sense in her coming alone to such a fun event.

  “Mom, I’m not ten years old. I think I can get my own date if I choose to.” Emma could hear the whiny petulance in her tone, but couldn’t help but feel like a child who’d been vexed.

  “Emma Jean Laroux, you invited this darling man here for an intimate family dinner, something you haven’t done since your college days, so, I’m not giving you the opportunity to slip out of having an escort to my wedding. Everyone will be there, you know?”

  Everyone, meaning Tad, was
the implication. Which was exactly why Emma had avoided asking Matthew to the wedding in the first place. Of course, her mother wouldn’t have known that. Or, if she had, Mom would have believed it was because Emma was still pining for Tad in some pathetic, sad way. And, obviously, Mom couldn’t be more mistaken about that, but if Emma said as much aloud, it would require some sort of explanation, and there was no way Emma was tackling that conversation here and now. Maybe not ever.

  So, of course, she would go as his date. It would resolve some issues, but might cause others. Win some, lose some. But Emma couldn’t deny the slight thrill at the idea of being on Matthew’s arm with him all dressed up. Oh, my. She felt her face flush as she had a sudden flashback to their night together.

  “Well? Will you go to the wedding as my date?” His expression was expectant and hopeful.

  They really did have her in a tough spot. “O-okay.”

  “And will you be available to escort her to the rehearsal dinner Saturday evening as well?” Mom asked Matthew, her tone really didn’t allow for a no.

  “It would be my pleasure, ma’am,” Matthew bowed toward her mother.

  Emma’s flashback from the other night was more of a heated memory now. She needed air.

  “Are you okay, honey?” her mother asked.

  “Me? Yes, I’m fine. I’m just going to step outside for a minute to cool off.”

  “I’ll join you.” Matthew followed her to the veranda doors.

  “O-oh, that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.”

  But he wasn’t having it. He was following so closely behind her, if she stopped suddenly, he’d plaster himself against her backside. The very idea of his parts slamming into her parts only added to her weakened knees. What was wrong with her?

  Emma took a big gulp of the night air. The blooms on the vines threading through the pergola overhead gave off a lightly perfumed scent.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just feeling a little—overwhelmed.”

  “By what, or by whom, I might ask?” He’d moved even closer than the “hot on her heels” close he’d been a minute ago.

  “Whom do you think?” She whispered, her breathing less than steady.

  “This is my fault? Should I feel ashamed or flattered?” She felt his soft, warm breath on her ear.

  Holy moly. This was precisely how they’d ended shucking clothes off on her kitchen floor. And right now would not be the time to get caught by her family bare-assed on her mother’s deck with Matthew—

  “We have to go. Now.” She wasn’t kidding around.

  “Okay. Where?”

  “Anywhere but here.” She must have tipped him off with her frantic tone, or could he possibly see the raging within her body through the glazed stare she’d nailed him with? How could he not?

  “Oh—Oh. Got it. Lead the way.” His eyes darkened with what she recognized as his own brand of what she was experiencing.

  The goodbyes were a blur. Emma hugged, kissed, and promised to help with the girls’ hair and makeup, then was in her car in about sixty seconds flat and envisioning all the things she had planned for Matthew once she got him home. She wasn’t a hoochie mama, was she? Well, she was darn-sure behaving like one now with Matthew.

  She continued to be inundated with calls from every single, available guy around town, and some who weren’t single or available. Emma had tried to be kind in her refusals of dates, but several had been so insistent that she’d had to be less kind about her rebuffs. No still meant no last time she checked.

  But tonight she didn’t have any intention of saying no. This was a yes night. Yes, Yes, Yes, if she remembered her words from the last time. Good thing she’d bought a Sam’s size box of condoms and put a dozen in her glove box just in case. Not that she planned for this, but after last time, Emma realized just how quickly she could and had been overwhelmed by her desire for Matthew and his—charms. And she was nothing if not smart and prepared whenever possible.

  She took a quick turn, and decided that his house was closer. Plus, there was a little matter of seeing him naked in his shower that she’d not been able to erase from her brain. Time to test that memory to see if she could create a better ending for her fantasy.

  She glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure he was still following. Thankfully, he was.

  *

  “So, my place, huh?” He asked when they’d reached the front door.

  He’d almost missed it when she’d taken the turn in front of him.

  “Your place is closer. Um, could you please hurry?” Her voice was breathy.

  He’d been in the process of finding the key on his ring, but her question made him turn around and face her. “Anxious to get inside?” He grinned. He was ready to break down his own door, but hearing her say how badly she wanted him was worth all the frustration in the world.

  “Don’t toy with me, mister. Open the door—now, please?”

  He leaned down to kiss her, holding himself in check and barely touching his lips to hers. Emma wasn’t having it. She plastered herself against him, causing his already erect status to spring to life in a very uncomfortable way. Her very lush hips found themselves beneath his hands, and then, with a stealthy movement, Emma launched herself upward, her legs clamping around his waist and she clung like a spider monkey.

  “Whoa. Let me get this door opened before we end up on the front lawn.” And they would, too.

  Writhing and kissing, they staggered, entwined, into his house, barely making it to his sofa before both had stripped off the minimum required garments for access.

  “Condom.” She breathed.

  “Got it.” He was already ripping open a wrapper before they’d hit the cushions.

  “How did you do that?” she asked between his lips.

  “Prepared…just in case,” he answered as his mouth made its way down the column of her throat and she moaned loudly.

  “Now, please,” she begged.

  “Definitely.” He tried not to grin with intense satisfaction when she shrieked her pleasure, among all kinds of other satisfactions he was experiencing, because that might be gloating.

  Aw, hell, who was he kidding, he was all kinds of gloating. Emma Laroux was the hottest woman he’d ever seen, much less been with like this. No, not like this. He’d never been with anyone like this. This—was beyond sexual release. He felt something real with her.

  “Oh, my.” Her face was flushed.

  She stared up at him, her eyes luminous, blonde hair spread out all around the couch cushion. She was flawless. And appeared to be well-satisfied.

  “Is that all you have to say?” He teased, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “That’s all I can say right now.”

  “I’ll take it. And I’ll take you to the bedroom where we can do things properly. Without any clothes and such to hinder me the next time.”

  She breathed a sigh. “Oh, my.”

  In a single motion, he heaved her over his shoulder, bare-assed but still half-dressed, and headed toward his bedroom.

  When they arrived, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes ma’am?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that night I saw you in the shower,” she said softly.

  “You mean the one where I was lying there half-dead?”

  She giggled. “Part of you was all the way alive.”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, I was thinking we should recreate that situation, minus the throwing up part.” She suggested, still hanging upside down.

  “Hmmm. Not a bad idea.” He popped her on her bare behind and headed toward the bathroom, where a new and far more fun memory was bound to be created.

  Chapter Ten

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  Maureen stared at her reflection. This was her wedding day. It wasn’t the first, but it would definitely be her last. Howard had left her standing at the altar thirty-four years ago, alone and pregnant with her first child. He hadn’t known about Maeve then, or nothing would
have kept him away. But his parents or, more precisely, his mother had known just how to twist him up and to keep him away from Maureen by using her failing heart to extract promises from him. She’d wanted her only dear boy all to herself and swore it would kill her to see him marry Maureen. And she’d had a believable “spell” for good measure just before he was to get married.

  Today, part of her relived both the excitement in preparing to go to her love, and the heartbreak of his not showing up those many years ago. She’d married Justin Laroux, her childhood boyfriend and dearest friend, who’d known Maeve wasn’t his child and adored her anyway. He was the most honorable man she’d ever met, and she’d loved him with all her heart until the day he’d died. He’d saved her reputation and brought joy to her life.

  Now, Maureen could marry Howard with a clear conscience and a pure heart full of love for him. Her children had given their blessing, which was pretty amazing, considering all five of them had walked in on her and Howard, stark naked in front of a roaring fire at the cabin on Lake Burton. They’d been covered in blankets, but there’d been no denying what had happened only hours before their discovery.

  It still affected Maeve the most, but she was getting used to Howard and the idea that he was her biological father.

  But this wedding was a good thing for them all. Howard would bind them. The children needed a father figure in their lives, even though they were now all adults. And there was no man better than Howard. He loved that he had a ready-made family and was ready to take them all as his own.

  “Mom, you look beautiful.” She turned to see Emma behind her in the mirror.

  Emma was ethereally lovely in her blush-colored, off-the-shoulder dress. How Maureen’d managed to create such gorgeous children was beyond her. She was in awe of them.

  “Thank you, dear. And so do you.” Her daughter seemed more relaxed than she had in awhile. That was odd. This was a stressful time of the year for Emma, normally. “You have a look about you.” Maureen stood and turned around, then led her daughter to stand in front of her, scrutinizing her face. “Why, you’ve been intimate with your young man.”