by Rayne, Sara
“I saw the hope on your face when his chopper pulled up. It’s gone now.” The same could be said of her.
“If my good friend Rafe Crocker had come here today, I was going to drink this with him.” He swirled the liquid in his glass. “But he died the second he laid eyes on Artemis Devine, and I’m never gettin’ him back.”
Artemis. It always came back to her. “You don’t think he’ll ever get over her?”
Boone shifted in his seat then refilled her glass. “Aren’t you going to eat? The food is heavenly tonight.”
Of course it was. Voo had gone straight from the courtyard down to the kitchen. She hadn’t seen him since, but his passion for cooking left an artist’s signature across every plated masterpiece.
Lex hadn’t been able to eat a bite.
“Not hungry.”
“Betrayal is more than a bellyful.” Boone leaned his elbows on the table. “I’m sorry we hurt you getting to him. You didn’t deserve to be used.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Still angry?”
She folded her arms, sitting back and crossing her legs. “You did it to save your home. The Chance is precious to you. If I had a home of my own, I’d do whatever I had to do to protect it.”
“There’s something fierce and wild in your heart.” He rested his chin in an elegant hand.
“I’m not the kind of woman lines work on anymore, Boone.”
“If I was trying to seduce you, chérie, you would know.” He held her gaze, eyes serious. “I’ve done many terrible things, but taking advantage of a woman to sleep with her will never be one of them. I can’t take you to my bed. My best friend just broke your heart.”
“Your best friend?”
“Ex-best friend.”
“Well, how ‘bout that. Mine, too.”
Boone’s eyes darkened. “You were never friends.”
Lex blinked away the sting of tears.
“He’s in love with you.” He squeezed her hand until she met his gaze. “You were visiting your father when I came to see Rafe. I was hiding my face in a back booth, waiting for the crowd to die down while I worked up the nerve to talk to him. And you walked in, laughing about something your daddy said.”
Lex swallowed. “I don’t remember that.”
“He came out of the kitchen when he heard your laugh, like you’d summoned him. When he smiled at you, he looked sixteen again.” Boone released her hand and leaned back. “You breathe life into him.”
He refilled his glass, lifting the bottle in offer, but she shook her head. Her brain already buzzed. Any more wine and she’d take a trip to Pukeville. It was a fitting end to her day, but she’d rather not.
He considered her. “For a moment, Rafe was resurrected. Not the asshole who ran from us, but the guy I grew up with—before he met Artemis and it all changed. Then I knew you were special.”
“You’re wrong. He made it clear I’m not special to him.”
He laughed harshly. “It’s why I was willing to try asking him for help again. The way he looked at you, I thought he might be ready to let go of Artemis and Mt. Olympus. After Josie saw you two at the dorms, she thought so, too.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
“He had a chance to get out of the swamp, to have a better life.” Boone sighed thoughtfully. “It felt like Rafe wanted away from me, from my family, from the Chance. All those cons we pulled, all the money we took from people…do you know what we were going to do with it?”
Lex shook her head.
“Once we got the big haul, we were going to invest in the Chance, make her even grander. I was going to run operations, and he was going to run the restaurant. Guess he found a more appealing version of our dream.”
She surveyed the scene of the party. From twinkling lights and swinging jazz to dancing revelers, the night had taken on a magical quality. Boone had worked hard to make the place perfect, his love of the B&B in every fine detail.
“You always wanted to run the Chance?”
“My mother deserves a man in her life who’ll stand by her, keep her dreams afloat.”
“I take it your father wasn’t that sort of man?”
“Non.”
Lex wanted to talk about anything besides Voodoo and the mess she’d found herself in. “What’s he like?”
Boone trained his eyes on the distant horizon. His jaw set, and the charm slipped off his face as if he’d dropped a Mardi Gras mask. “I never knew him. He’s never seen my face. And on the fateful day we finally meet, I’ll shoot him dead where he stands.”
“Wow.” Suddenly her issues with Cap’s overprotective nature didn’t seem so bad. She traced the lines of the four horseshoes on her protection tattoo.
“Too honest for you, chérie? What is it they say—in vino veritas.” He drained his glass.
“You seem to be feeling very truthful.”
“Anyway, what went wrong between Rafe and me was my fault. I never saw it. He felt we were from different stations, didn’t understand why I ran cons when we weren’t starving. Envy was always his personal demon.” Boone sighed. “And when he took up with Artie and I didn’t approve…it all went to shit.”
“Why didn’t you approve? You think she didn’t love him?”
“How could anyone not love him?” Boone shook his head. “In my heart, we were brothers. Thicker than the evil blood running through my veins. Rafe had this way of really seeing you, making you feel important. Worthwhile. I needed it.”
“He still does.” She circled the rim of her glass with a finger.
“He was the only man who’d ever stuck around in my life. I couldn’t lose him to someone who didn’t even know the real him.” Boone rubbed his chin. “I told him he had to come clean. As much as she loved rubbing her engagement to the ‘help’ in her parent’s elitist noses, I figured she’d love the real backstory even more.”
“Didn’t go well?” She finished her wine and pushed the glass away.
“‘Bout as well as baptizing a cat.” Boone closed his eyes. “He accused me of trying to sabotage things between them, said I wanted to keep him down. Claimed I was too selfish to be happy for him.”
“But you never wanted out. You wanted to build something here.”
“Exactly, but I was young and stupid. I said many things I shouldn’t have. Told him his gran was right not to come to the wedding.”
“She wasn’t gonna go?” Poor Voo. Trapped between his family’s expectations and the role he had to play. Sounds familiar. This whole thing felt like a twisted Greek tragedy.
“She wouldn’t lie for him. Told him to stop being ashamed of his roots, hiding where he came from. She didn’t want Rafe entering into a spiritual union with a woman who didn’t know his soul, wasn’t even taking his name.” Boone frowned. “It was the worst fight they ever had. Their cottage swept away in the flood with her inside. They never got the chance to make up.”
She couldn’t even imagine what that was like for Voo. Suddenly, she wanted to hug her parents and tell them how much she loved them. She tipped the empty wine bottle on its side. “I hate sad drinking. It brings up stuff you thought you put to bed years ago.”
“Well, since we can’t do anything about the drinking part, let’s fix the sad part.” His eyes flashed with warmth as he held his hand out to her. “If this is the Chance’s last party, let’s dance and be merry, chérie. What do you say?”
She put her hand in his and smiled, lifting her glass and calling to the crowd, “Laissez les bon temps rouler!”
The intoxicated crowd around her answered back with a raucous, “Laissez les bon temps rouler!”
“That never gets old.” Lex giggled as he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the festivities.
***
Voo pulled the last pot of red beans and rice off the cooktop and wiped his brow. The kitchen soothed him. Lost in his troubles, stirring a pot brightened his spirits. Sometimes he thought it was the art of creation, oth
er times the idea of providing nourishment. Food was life.
He poured the dish into a warming tray and handed it to Johnny with a glare for good measure. The little rat tried to throw Voo out of The Chance—he was lucky to still be walking. “Get a move on, busboy.”
Johnny adjusted the tray with stiff movements, not looking at Voo as he left.
Phee sat by the large square table, sipping a coffee and vodka. “You might be a terrible person, but you’re still a fine chef.”
“Merci. I see you’re still adept at back-handed compliments.”
She sniffed. “It ain’t back-handed. I’m only saying one good deed doesn’t erase all the bad—same way a bad one doesn’t erase the good.”
Phee reminded him so much of his grand-mére. “I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed for her funeral. I was…ashamed.”
“Well, she was never ashamed of you, boy. She always believed you’d find your way eventually.” She took a healthy swallow of her coffee. “Maybe you should ask the loa for help. We threw one helluva feast tonight. The spirits might be feeling generous.”
“I already did.” Voo had taken Shep and Jagger with him to the crossroads last year to invoke Papa Legba, a kinder, gentler crossroad spirit than Baron Samedi. Voo had sought mercy. Shep’s prayers had been answered, and the Crossroad Crows were doing better than ever. But Papa Legba had sent him nothing. The loa knew he wasn’t worth their time. After taking more than his fair share, Voo wasn’t surprised fate had nothing left to offer him.
“And what happened?”
“Nothing. Papa Legba didn’t come for me.” He’d felt so defeated. When Lex pulled up in Coyote’s truck to take them home, Voo decided he was done asking for help. It was a waste of time.
“You sure?” Phee smirked. “‘Cuz it looks to me like you got yourself a good woman, ready and waiting to lead you down the right path.”
“Lex?” Voo’s shoulders sunk. “She’s an amazing woman with a bright future. Way better than me.”
“You’re a good man, Rafe. You must’ve forgotten while you were tryin’ to be a better one.” She clucked her tongue.
“Yeah? Tell that to your son.”
Phee sighed and settled back in her chair. “Even after all the bad blood between you two, Boone still searched for you for weeks after the hurricane. We all thought you died in the flood, but he wouldn’t give up—said he’d have felt it if you were gone.”
“When I told him I was marrying Artemis, he said I was dead to him.”
“And I think you know why.” She folded her arms. “The same thing your gran told you all along. Artemis had no idea who you were. She wasn’t the one for you, but you didn’t want to hear it. We all tried to tell you.”
“You should’ve supported me. I found a way out—away from exploding meth labs and eating beans and rice for every meal. Away from struggling for everything. Why couldn’t he be happy for me?”
“Because you wanted away from him.” She gave him a look. “Maybe if you stop acting like everyone’s attacking you, you’ll figure out you’re the only one doing the hurting.”
Voo’s jaw locked and he spread his hands on the table, pushing against the wood until his biceps ached. He let out a defeated breath. “You think I should give up Mt. Olympus?”
Phee sighed. “All my dogs are in this fight, so I ain’t impartial. But if you keep trying to swim with a big ol’ anchor around your neck, you’re gonna drown.”
The idea of Mt. Olympus being run by Apollo, shining on Bourbon Street, made Voo physically ill. If Apollo had wanted to tear the place down and build something new, Voodoo might’ve handed the property over to him without a second thought.
Lex was right. It had become his tombstone, and he didn’t want it defiled. But protecting a grave was no way to live.
“Why don’t you steal her away from my son before they both do something stupid in the name of red wine?” Phee added more vodka to her coffee.
The thought of her with Boone curdled his stomach. “And say what?”
He re-tied his black bandana and took off his apron, wondering what would happen if he dared approach Lex again? Once upon a time, he’d had a way with words around women, but she tied his silver tongue in knots.
“How long are you gonna punish yourself for sins the rest of us let wash away?”
“Grand-mére warned me if I didn’t find a way to square with my past, if I disrespected the loa, I’d reap the consequences.” He turned his shoulder, displaying the broken heart made of ocean waves. “This is my reminder to never lie about who I am again. It’s not punishment. It’s penance.”
“Denying what you want is just as bad as lying, if you ask me. Maybe your penance should be not repeating your past mistakes. Lex and I got to know each other, and I’m telling you that boat ain’t waitin’ on you forever.”
No, she wouldn’t. As much as it pained him to think of Lex moving on with her life, she needed to. She didn’t deserve to be trapped in his Underworld for eternity because he needed a little light in all his darkness.
“Did it ever occur to you to give being the man she deserves a shot?” Phee added more vodka to her coffee.
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“I knew a man worthy of her once. He was generous, protective, and talented.” She rocked back in her chair. “His name was Rafael. Too bad he’s dead.”
He stood. “I need some air.”
“Bonsoir.” Phee smiled. “Give the loa my regards.”
Voo left the kitchen, not looking up until he stepped outside. The crowd had thinned, partygoers toddling off to their rooms or back to the driveway to wait on cabs. Those remaining danced between the magnolia trees. He wandered through the patio, appreciating the stacks of scraped-clean plates in bussing bins across the tables.
Whatever else he might screw up, at least people still loved his food.
In the darkest corner of the patio, a man in a white top hat sat playing solitaire next to a bottle of rum. He ashed a short cigar onto his untouched plate of food. Tipping his hat, he caught Voo’s eye. “Ça fait longtemps.”
It’s been a long time.
“Do I know you?” Voo moved closer.
The top half of his dark face was painted white. He wore a white leather vest, his arms bare, and he wore black tuxedo pants with a snowy satin stripe down the side. Skull rings adorned every finger.
Many of tonight’s revelers had dressed as Baron Samedi. This was the first costume to give Voo the chills.
“You’re the chef, non?” The man grinned, displaying even, white teeth.
“I am.”
“Pork and beans suck.” He stubbed the cigar out in the beans. “You afraid of spices, son?”
“I ain’t your son.”
Chuckling, he grabbed the two nearest glasses and flung their contents over his shoulder. He lifted the bottle from the center of the table and poured them each a shot. “Take my advice and only cook food you love. Your distaste makes the beans bitter.”
“Sorry you didn’t like it.” Voo tossed the shot back with a grimace and wiped his mouth. He’d hated pork and beans his entire life.
“Sorry you can’t cook. Have a seat.” He pushed his chair back and waved Voo over.
“I’m good. You’re not pleasant company.”
“Neither are you, but I’m not bitchin’. You can still glower at me while you’re sittin’, I promise.”
“What? You want to tell me I over-grilled the peanuts too?” Voo sighed and sat down.
“Naw, they was grilled fine. Under-salted, but not fuckin’ awful.” Faux Samedi pointed at the holsters under Voo’s arms as he pulled another cigar from a gold case. “Mind if I borrow one of your shiny knives? I seem to have misplaced my cigar cutter.”
Voo removed a blade and offered it by the hilt. “I want it back.”
“Honor amongst thieves.” Samedi cut the end of the cigar and tossed the knife on the table as he lit it.
“I heard there was none
.”
“Aren’t you a gloomy fellow?” He blew a perfect smoke ring toward the dance floor as the crowd parted. “Liven up a bit—it’s a party. Appreciate the view.”
Lex stood under the twinkling lights, sparkling from the waves of her platinum hair to the silver sandals on her feet. Boone held her close as they swayed to the music. She laced her hands behind his neck, laughing as he whispered in her ear.
His stomach dropped.
What the hell was she doing with a guy like Boone anyway? His former best friend never loved a woman who wasn’t his momma or his hotel.
“Now there’s a little ray of sunshine on a cold, dark night, isn’t she? Been watching her dance for hours.”
He wasn’t the only one. Out here, away from her father’s biker bodyguards and her bad college rep, nothing stopped the men admiring her in the crowd. Except Boone’s possessive hold on her body.
“Oh?” Voo tensed, fighting the urge to grab Lex and take her back to Hades, far from leering eyes.
“Lower the hackles, son. I ain’t the one you should be worried about, but she is my type.” The man cackled. “What can I say? Always did like the blondes.”
Boone’s gaze connected with his over Lex’s head as he pulled her closer. Six months ago, Voo would have bet Hades that Captain’s daughter would never touch Boone, but she’d proven dangerously unpredictable recently. He had no idea what she would do.
Jealousy filled Voo’s lungs like green smoke, burning like cayenne on his tongue. He considered ripping Boone’s arms off as the man’s hands slid down Lex’s sides, gripping her hips and keeping her body tight against his own.
A growl built in Voo’s throat. Was Lex seriously going to sleep with this asshole? Had she replaced him so quickly?
“Why you staring ol’ Boone down like it’s high noon?”
“He’s…an old friend.” Voo rolled his neck, trying to loosen the tense muscles. “You know him?”
“We’re acquainted, oui.” He tilted his head towards Voo. “I’m guessin’ by your surly disposition, he’s dancin’ with your woman. You fixin’ to man up and do something about it anytime soon?”
“Not much I can do.” If he intervened now, he’d do something stupid like throw her over his shoulder and steal her away. Take her somewhere they could be alone. Hedonistic by nature, resisting the pleasures her flesh offered had taken every ounce of his willpower. He had no strength left tonight. “What did you say your name was, old man?”