by Leger, Lori
Giselle’s head dropped forward on the table as she cried for those left behind—Bill, Jackson, her girls, and finally herself. Her tears, quiet at first, progressed into long, loud, body-wracking sobs. The kind that free the soul of suppressed sadness and excruciating pain.
Bill wrapped her in his strong, comforting arms, and held her while she cried.
Her sobs subsided eventually and she wiped her swollen eyes. “My babies,” she groaned. “What have I done to my poor children?” She turned tear-filled eyes to Bill for answers. “How can they ever forgive me?”
Bill handed her a box of tissues. “Hon, they’ll be so glad to have their mama back, they’ll forget everything else.”
“Mac said she hated me. She was right, too, when she said Toby would have taken better care of them if I’d been the one to go. He never would have let this happen.”
“What happened was meant to happen. It’s all tiny threads woven into the fabric of your life. It’s all part of God’s plan and you have to trust he knows what’s best for you. Mac didn’t mean what she said any more than you meant what you said.”
“I pray you’re right, Bill.” She groaned again. “I said such awful things to Jackson. How can I ever face him?”
“Don’t worry about the rest of us. We all know what you were going through. He just wants to see you back to your old self so you can tend to your daughters. Those girls of yours sure have found a place in our hearts.”
Giselle wiped her eyes. “I know you both mean a lot to them, and you two are welcome to be a part of their lives.”
“Thank you for that.” His voice deepened with emotion. “I know they don’t have a grandpa of their own, but I’d be honored if you’d let me treat them as if they were my grandchildren.”
She gazed at the kind man before her, knew they’d bonded over this moment. “Are you sure, Bill? What if Jackson meets someone and has children of his own? Wouldn’t you want them to think of you as your grandfather?”
Bill stood, stretching his tall frame to his full height. “Of course I would. Giselle, people have more than one set of grandchildren all the time; by blood, by marriage, or by adoption. I have enough love to spare for as many grandchildren as I’m blessed with.” He placed his hat back on his head. “And for God’s sake, please give me a reason not to be so damn jealous of Sam Langley.”
Giselle slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that popped out of her. She looked up at Bill, unable to suppress it any longer, and let it burst forth. Surprised that she could laugh so soon after her bout with tears, she held her side as tears of laughter streamed down her face.
Gaining control, she sat back in her chair and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Oh, that felt good,” she said, giving Bill’s hand a tight squeeze. “I don’t know how to thank you.” She was silent for a moment before grinning up at him. “How would you like it if my girls started calling you Grandpa Bill?” Her smile broadened as his blue eyes sparkled with delight.
“Make it ‘Paw Paw’ and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
She nodded. “Paw Paw, it is.”
“Paw Paw Bill—I do like the sound of that. Thank you hon, you’ve made me one happy old man today. Just wait until I tell Sam.”
“You’re not old, Bill. As a matter of fact, Carrie’s said on countless occasions if Sam hadn’t stolen her heart, she could really go for some Bill Broussard, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
Bill sucked in his breath and grimaced. “Playing second fiddle to Sam Langley isn’t quite the ego boost I was looking for, but I guess it’ll have to do.” He sat back down in his chair and stretched one of his long legs out in front of him. “What’s the story with those two? Why didn’t they ever have any children together? They’ve been together long enough.”
“By the time they met their children were older. Carrie couldn’t have kids anymore. Those two really do have their own love story, though. Maybe she’ll tell you about it someday.”
Bill gave her a nod. “I bet that’s a story I’d find interesting. Should we call her back now?”
She nodded and made the call. Within five minutes, they’d heard the slam of car doors in the drive.
Bill stood and gave her a hug. When he pulled away, she placed her hand on the face so similar to Jackson’s. “Thank you, Bill.”
“You’re welcome, hon.” He turned to the door. “I’ll leave, so you and those girls can have some privacy.”
“Oh, but can you wait around for a few minutes? I want you and Carrie to be here after I straighten things out with Mac and Lexie.”
He nodded. “I’ll send the girls in to you.”
Bill met Carrie and the two girls in the patio, closing the door behind him. Mac and Lex went to him, both casting cautious looks at the door.
Bill cradled both girls close to him and tried to reassure them. “Everything is okay now, girls. I promise. Go on, your mom’s waiting for you.” He watched the girls disappear into the house then turned to Carrie. “She’ll be fine now.”
Carrie reached out to cover his hands with her own. “I don’t know what you told her, but I know it had to be difficult for you, and I’m so thankful.”
He gave her a sly look. “Enough to leave Sam for me?”
She pushed his hands away and laughed. “Be serious, Bill.”
“It don’t cost a thing to ask, and all you can do is turn me down one more time.”
Carrie wiped tears of laughter from her eyes as she gazed up at him. “You and Jackson should put a patent on those sexy grins of yours, you know. They’re absolutely irresistible.”
He raised a brow as he pulled the patio chair out for her. “Have you reconsidered?”
“Okay, nearly irresistible,” she threw in, shaking her head as she sat and waited for him to sit across from her. “I’ve already found the love of my life, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find someone for you. You interested?”
He pulled his hat off and placed it on the glass topped table. “You know, I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time. Got anyone in mind?”
“I’d have to think on it.” She leaned her elbows on the table and tapped her tooth with a fingernail. “Hmmm…What kind of woman would be right for you?”
“I could do with a young grandmotherly type, kind of like you,” he said, giving her a wink.
Carrie chuckled as she shook her head. “I appreciate the compliment, honey, but, you can do better. Have you thought about someone young enough to give you a child of your own?”
Bill’s brow furrowed as he pondered the question. “I’d like that, but I really didn’t think it was an option for me.”
“Why not? You’re healthy, aren’t you?”
“My doc just told me I had the heart of a man twenty years younger. I don’t smoke, I lift weights, and swim laps every day to keep in shape, I only drink occasionally, and I do all my own work around the ranch.”
Carrie leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms loosely. “At the risk of inflating your ego, you and Jackson are two of the finest looking men I’ve ever known. When it comes to sex appeal, you easily hold your own against men half your age.”
“You really think so?”
“Yep, and I think you should consider children,” she said.
Bill sat back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair and released his breath in a slow hiss. “All right then, let’s do it. My life is in your hands. What do you need me to do?”
She smiled and gave his hand an affectionate pat. “Sit back and watch the gears turn, Bill. I’ll take care of you.”
The door suddenly opened as Mac and Lexie burst through, giggling and grinning from ear to ear. The two little girls ran to Bill’s outstretched arms, as squeals of “Paw Paw!” filled the air.
Giselle watched through tear-filled eyes as her daughters hugged the man who’d promised to become an even bigger part of their lives.
“Is it true?”
“Are you our Paw Paw now?”
&
nbsp; Bill beamed down at them. “I am if you want me to be,” he said, to even more high pitched shrieks of joy.
“We’ve never had a Paw Paw before,” Lexie said.
Mackenzie raised hopeful brown eyes to Bill. “Would that make Jackson our uncle, or our daddy—” She spread her hands, “Or what?”
She caught the amused look Bill sent her direction. “How about if you just call him Jackson, for now?” she offered. “I’m sure he’d be fine with that.”
“We have a Paw Paw Bill, and a Jackson!” Mackenzie squealed. “I can’t wait to tell everyone that my birthday party is going to be at my Paw Paw Bill’s house.”
“Paw Paw Bill’s ranch,” he corrected her.
Mackenzie’s eyes grew large with excitement. “Lex, our Paw Paw has a real ranch with cows and horses..”
“And mini horses and piggy goats,” Lexie added, her voice rising to an excited crescendo.
“And a pond we can fish in,” Mac finished.
“I also ordered paddle boats for your party,” Bill added. “They’ll be ours to keep so you can use them anytime.”
Mackenzie threw herself at him again. “I can tell already, you’re going to be the best Paw Paw in the world.” She turned to her mother. “Can we call Jackson? I can’t wait to tell him we’re his family now.”
Giselle sucked in her breath as she made a face. “Um, not just yet. I think I need to speak to him first then I’ll let you talk to him. You two go inside with Bill and Carrie, okay?”
As Bill and the girls vanished through the door amidst giggles and laughter, Carrie turned to Giselle. “Do you have his number?”
“Sure do,” she said, flashing her I-phone.
“I’ve been calling all morning and he hasn’t answered. Maybe he will, if he sees your number,” Carrie said.
Giselle took a seat at the patio table and pulled up Jackson’s number, then lifted her face to soak up the glorious morning sunrays while waiting for him to answer. She finally heard a gravelly voice croak a single word.
“Yeah.”
“Jackson. It’s Giselle.”
“What do you want?”
“Are you okay?”
“If you mean miserable, heartbroken, and hung over, then yeah, I’m damn near perfect,” he said, the sarcasm pouring forth from her phone’s speaker.
“Oh, I’m sorr…”
“What the hell do you want? You want to rip my heart out? Blame me for Toby’s death again?”
“If you’d let me expl…”
“You know, I didn’t ask for this crap, and I sure as hell can’t help the way I feel. Leave me the hell alone.”
Giselle heard the distinct click of disconnection and stared, dumbfounded at the phone. She hit redial and waited. He picked it up and disconnected without a word. The next time she hit redial, she got a busy signal.
“Well, crap,” she murmured. “How am I supposed to apologize if you won’t answer?” She stood abruptly and went inside.
Lexie turned her hopeful face toward her. “Did you talk to Jackson, Mama?”
“No sweetie, he must still be sleeping. I’ll call him later.”
Lexie’s face crumbled in disappointment. “I bet he’s still appressed after yesterday. Can we go see him?”
Giselle brushed her daughter’s bangs back from her pixie face. “I think I need to talk to him first before you see him again, Sweetie.”
“Can you hurry, Mama? He looked so sad the last time I saw him.”
“I’ll keep trying, Lex, I promise.” After Lexie ran off, Giselle turned to Bill. “I think I need to go over there,” she said, repeating their brief conversation.
She caught Carrie’s cautious glance in Bill’s direction. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. The last time I talked to him, he said he was on his way to an all-nighter with a bottle of Crown. Sounds like he accomplished his goal.”
“Jackson hardly ever drinks. He had to be hurting to pull one that bad,” Bill said.
Giselle chewed on the corner of her thumbnail. “I can’t stand this. I need to apologize to his face.”
Carrie’s gaze shifted from Giselle, to Bill, then back to Giselle. “I really wish you’d let him sleep it off.”
Giselle paced the floor between her fridge and her guests. “I feel guilty, Carrie. Can you understand that?”
“You could follow me over there,” Bill suggested. “That way I can be there to make sure he’s okay. He was some kind of upset when I dropped him off.”
Giselle turned pleading eyes toward Carrie. “Could I bother you one more time to watch the girls for me? You can bring them to your place.”
Carrie released a long sigh. “All right, but this goes against my better judgment.”
Giselle clasped her hands together. “Thank you. Let me get my purse.”
Bill pulled into Jackson’s drive thirty minutes later, followed closely by Giselle. He rang the doorbell several times without getting an answer. Using his key, he let himself and Giselle inside.
“Wow. I love what he did in here,” Giselle whispered.
Bill collected the nearly empty bottle of aged ninety proof whiskey he’d given Jackson for Christmas. “New furniture. Old whiskey. Said he was gonna save it for a special occasion.” He turned to Giselle and sent her a grin. “Congratulations.” She had the decency to look ashamed. He sniffed at the half empty glass on a sturdy end table and made a face. “Straight,” he said. Oh. Shit.
Bill turned to her, prepared for the worst. “Might be a good idea for you to wait outside. I need to see what kind of shape he’s in.”
She gave him a silent nod and stepped outside.
Giselle tensed up when she heard the deep, menacing, growl behind her. She turned to see a huge Doberman, its teeth bared in a snarl, at the end of the sidewalk. She backed cautiously to the door, blindly feeling for the knob; thankfully, it opened for her and she backed into the room. She cleared the door in just enough time to screech and slam it in the fast approaching dog’s face. Giselle breathed a sigh of relief as she rested her forehead on the door then turned. She froze, her breath catching in her throat, at the sight before her.
Jackson shut off the shower and stepped out onto his newly tiled bathroom floor, dying for a big glass of ice water. His mouth was dry as the Texas panhandle in the middle of a drought. He could have used another hour or two of sleep, but Giselle’s call had ended all hope of that. Just hearing her voice had twisted his insides into a painful knot. He wrapped one towel loosely around his hips and grabbed another for his hair. Bill’s voice rumbled from the opposite side of the door. He pulled it open and stared at his uncle.
Freshly shaved and showered, with his hair still dripping water, he began toweling his hair. “Excuse me. I’m thirsty as hell,” he growled, brushing past Bill.
Jackson was almost at the end of the hallway when he heard a feminine screech, accompanied by the slamming of a door. His neighbor’s damn Doberman barked incessantly outside the front door of his home. He cleared the hall and froze in his tracks at the sight before him. What the hell was Giselle doing in his living room? And why was she standing there with her forehead resting against his front door?
Almost as though she felt his presence, she turned slowly to face him. Their gazes locked, her eyes seemed to double in size. Any second now, she’d turn away from him.
She didn’t.
Giselle didn’t speak, didn’t give him reasons for being there, didn’t even blink, for that matter. She just stared. Hard. Her gaze took a leisurely path across his upper torso, down to his midsection, and past that to his lower extremities. It continued with a slow tour upward again, revealing a tick of her left eyebrow, a slight lift—as though she’d seen something she particularly liked—picked up its trail over his arms and shoulders until her lips parted. Her breathing grew shallow, somewhat labored. Still she didn’t turn away.
He stood there, observing her reaction to him. She licked her lips, liking what she saw. Then caught her lo
wer lip on her teeth, scraped until it popped out. Wet. Swollen. Effective. Seriously. If a lab could find a way to bottle that move, no man would ever need to take a little blue pill. Ever.
And if he didn’t get the hell out of that room now, she’d have something new to stare at.
He spun on his heel and walked away from her, back to his bedroom.
“See about Giselle,” he growled at Bill. “I think the neighbor’s Doberman attacked her.” Bill rushed out, leaving Jackson alone with his dilemma. He shut the bedroom door and took several deep breaths, trying to regulate his heartbeat. The unexpected sight of Giselle staring him down—and looking as if she liked what she saw. That wasn’t something he’d forget anytime soon. He caught sight of his reflection in the full length mirror, the evidence still there, undeniable, in no way lessening. He re-entered his bathroom, stepped inside the shower, and flipped the shower tap to cold.
Jackson stood there, fresh from a shower, obviously, in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. In his right hand, he still clutched the hand towel that he’d been using to dry his hair. She lifted her gaze to his well-defined chest and abdomen, covered with a fine dusting of dark, silky hair. Her eyes followed the trail of hair down past his belly button to where the towel covered up the rest of him. Her gaze traveled to one side of his hips, then the other, noting that sexy pad of muscle there on both sides. She dropped past the towel to thickly muscled calves, then back up to his long muscular arms and shoulders. Giselle stared at the torso rivaling that of a Greek god’s, and felt her face infuse with heat. She licked her parched lips, thinking she could slap someone for a long, cool, drink of water. Just as she lifted her gaze to his stunned face, he turned and headed down the hallway.
The rear view of Jackson was almost as captivating as the front. She watched, fascinated, as the muscles in his broad, tanned back and shoulders worked and rippled with every swing of his arms. She stared at the towel that clung tenaciously to his narrow hips, willing it to fall off so she could get a glimpse of what it hid. Giselle watched it shift from left to right, with every step Jackson took, craning her neck to keep him in sight. She heard him mumble something to Bill, who barreled out of the bedroom door and down the hallway toward her. Her shocked gaze locked onto Bill’s as she heard the slam of a door in the distance.