self-satisfied grin.
Lorraine clasps her hands together and pitches her voice above the pleasantries. “Beau told me he feeds y’all before class, and when I asked him what he’d been makin’, he said finger food.” Lorraine wrinkles her nose on the last words before throwing her hands up. “Well, I thought it would just be a shame for you to be here and not try some real Cajun cookin’, so I whipped up a few things.”
Three covered dishes and a basket draped in a white cloth line the length of the table. Nothing here was just whipped up. The feast before us took hours to assemble, and it smells so good, my mouth waters.
I’m speechless. And a little intimidated.
“Oh my gosh,” I manage. Ray and Sally murmur their own awe, but, led by his nose, Ramon steps closer. I really have no idea what to say. “Wow… I’m overwhelmed. It smells wonderful, but you didn’t—”
Lorraine lifts a prohibiting hand. “No-no. Don’t you dare say I didn’t have to do it. I’m sixty years old. I know I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, which means I always get my way.” She says this fast and kind of sharp, but with good humor. I look at Beau and see he’s holding back a laugh.
Mr. Hebert closes the distance between them and slides his now cast-free arm around Lorraine’s ample hips. He eyes her with what looks like affection and real appreciation.
“Lorraine is one helluva cook. I know that better than anyone,” he says proudly. The look in his eyes makes me smile. It’s clear just seeing them together that they have history. And chemistry. “And I can vouch that the only thing she loves better than cooking is watching the people around her enjoy what she’s made.”
“Oh, hush, David,” she says, flapping her hand in a way that I think everyone knows is just for show because her eyes sparkle at him. Lorraine turns her bright gaze to me. “Besides, I have never heard my nephew carry on about someone the way he’s talked about you.”
All eyes land on me, and I feel like the sum of my secrets is on display. As though all of them can read the truth in my heart—the words I haven’t even confessed to Beau.
My face heats, but when I look to Beau for rescue, I see I’m not the only one blushing.
In a moment, he’s at my side, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“Cajun families live to embarrass each other,” he whispers in my ear. And then, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you all day.”
My heart squeezes, and if my skin is still hot, it’s not from embarrassment. “You too.” I lay my hand over his heart before he draws back. I’ve waited all day to be in his arms.
Who would have thought I would have hungered for our dance lessons as much as I do?
With Beau’s touch, I’ve forgotten all about the feast in front of us, but Ramon hasn’t.
“What is all this?” He sounds like a man ready to fall to his knees.
“Crawfish fettuccine, smothered cabbage, garlic-butter French bread,” Lorraine rattles off with a lilt of pride, “and sweet potato pie for dessert.”
“It sounds divine,” Sally coos. It also sounds heavy and decadent, but I ignore Moira’s voice in my head, screeching about calories and carbs. Beau’s aunt went to a lot of trouble, and I’m not about to insult her by not eating her food.
“Well, grab a plate and dig in. It won’t stay hot forever, and you won’t get anything like this in California.”
Ramon doesn’t waste any time, and Sally steps in behind him. But Lorraine’s mention of California triggers a gut clench. My eyes find Beau. His intent gaze is fixed on me, and I have the sudden certainty he’s thinking the same thing.
Our time is running out.
We stare into each other, neither of us moving or glancing away. For one unbroken moment, what I see in his eyes must mirror what’s in mine. Joy. Sorrow. Fear. Courage. Grief. Love.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat, and Beau’s focus sharpens—as if he recognizes I need rescuing.
“C’mon. You really should try this. I’ll make you a plate.” His words are for everyone else, but the cover they provide is for me.
I nod and let him serve both of us while I get myself together. It’s the first time today tears have threatened—it’s happening more and more often—but this is one time when I don’t