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A Family Man

Page 20

by Mindy Neff


  “Probably.”

  “I swear to God I won’t let anybody hurt you or J.T. As soon as it can be arranged, we’ll be married. I’ll see to it that you become the first lady of Alexander, Louisiana, make sure that you never forget that you belong, that you deserve all the success and happiness you could possibly hope to gather in one lifetime.”

  “Chase, I already know that. I love you. We’re all that matters now.”

  She rose on tiptoe and initiated a kiss so fiery he could have sworn his heart stopped for a moment.

  “Is J.T. still asleep?” he asked, making a manly effort to control his breathing.

  “Yes. He’ll probably be out for another hour or so.”

  His hands went to work on the buttons of her pajama top. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in a trial run for the honeymoon? Just so we get it right, you understand.”

  “Absolutely.” She grabbed his hand and led him down the hall toward the bedroom.

  “I love a woman who takes charge.”

  Josie gave him a secretive smile that caused his heart to thud against his ribs. “What’s your favorite color?” she asked, the tip of her tongue playing erotically over her pouty bottom lip.

  “Red.”

  “Then you’re in luck. I just happen to have a couple of red scarves…and a four-poster bed.”

  Chase laughed, feeling as if he were indeed the luckiest man alive. She was a wickedly seductive woman, all his wildest and softest dreams wrapped up in one incredibly beautiful package. And by God, at long last she was his.

  Epilogue

  James Troy Alexander-Fowler tried his best to keep from fidgeting in the hard plastic chair in his Sunday School room. He folded his hands and bowed his head like Mouse said to do.

  Today he’d get to go into the big church with Mama and Daddy so Brother Mac could pray over Cassandra. He figured it was pretty neat having a sister, ’cept she was kinda small in his opinion. She’d been born now for three months—Daddy had reminded him that just this morning—and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to practice his sharing, which he had to admit he was pretty proud of. It was just that her hands were so little she couldn’t hold his trucks when he tried to do that big brother stuff and be sweet.

  He squeezed his eyes shut real tight. He probably ought to be listening to the prayer Mouse was saying, but his mind was awfully busy this Sunday morning.

  They lived in the big house on the hill now, the one where the airplanes were. He got to fly in those planes with Daddy now, and that was superneat.

  Mama bought Aunt Dottie’s store and sold lots of ladies underwear and nightgowns. Even Grandma Halliday helped out with the sewing. Mama said Daddy must have charmed Grandma or something, cuz she didn’t take to pickin’ on people anymore.

  When Mouse said “Amen,” J.T. felt a little guilty cuz he hadn’t been listening when they were talking to God. Maybe God wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t been paying attention.

  When he opened his eyes, he felt happiness tickle his tummy. Daddy was standing at the doorway, looking just like a daddy ought to in his fancy church clothes. Without waiting to be excused, J.T. hopped right up, and sort of forgot he wasn’t supposed to run in class.

  Daddy didn’t fuss, though. He just grinned. “You ready to go into the big church and watch Cassey get sprinkled with water?”

  “Yep.” He took his daddy’s hand as they walked from the Sunday School rooms toward the sanctuary. “Is Cassey gonna cry when they get her wet?”

  “She might.”

  J.T. thought about that. “But she won’t be sad, will she?”

  “Gee, I hope not, son. Remember your mama told us it was our job as the boys of the household to make sure the girls didn’t ever get sad.”

  J.T. nodded his head solemnly. He took his duties as big brother seriously. “I could kiss her and make it better,” he suggested.

  “Well, now, there’s an idea. I bet it’d do the trick.”

  “Or we could write her name on the table. That would make her all better.”

  “Think so?”

  “Yep.” He still couldn’t believe Daddy had let him write on the furniture. But Grandpa Jim had brought the table over in the pickup after the wedding, and before Mama could even dust it off good, Daddy had let him write the letters of his name, right smack on the top of the thing. Daddy said it was a tradition. Mama even got to do it, too.

  There were a whole bunch of people in the church. Grandpa Leroy in his wheelchair—Daddy said he was a tough old cuss who’d probably outlive all of them—sat smack dab in the middle of the aisle. Grandpa Jim sat next to Grandma and Grandpa Halliday. J.T. shook his head. Sometimes he forgot and called one of the grandpas the wrong thing. Big families were tough on a kid.

  He saw Aunt Dottie—who had finally up and married old Mr. Potts—and Mary Alice and Bud and Gracie Jones.

  Everybody was smiling and hugging and makin’ a fuss. It was kinda yucky to get kissed on so much. He started to make a face, but Daddy beat him to it, which was kind of bad of him because J.T. felt an attack of the giggles coming on.

  The tickle slipped out in a laugh that was louder than he’d expected.

  Mama stopped talking to the lady with blue hair and turned around, holding Cassandra in a fluffy blanket. She was prettier than most moms. Daddy even said so.

  All the townspeople sort of stepped aside with mushy looks on their faces, and everybody watched as she walked down the aisle toward Daddy and him.

  Even though he was little, J.T. realized there was something extra special between his parents. Since they got married, Mama smiled all the time.

  J.T. smiled, too. He had Chase for a daddy and lots of airplanes to play around and a new baby sister—even though she didn’t know how to play yet. Yeah, J.T. figured, God did a real good job in the prayers and wishes department.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6520-6

  A FAMILY MAN

  Copyright © 1996 by Melinda Neff

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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