Jonquils for Jax (Blueberry Lane 3 - The Rousseaus #1) - Katy Regnery Page 0,58
hot slate and jumped.
***
Three hours later, they sat across from each other at a table on the pool deck, a steamy pot of gumbo between them, their bowls licked clean.
“That was soooo good,” said Jax, holding a glass of wine in her hands and finding his bare feet under the table.
He’d sat on the kitchen counter instructing her on how to make his tantsy’s gumbo while she did the work, occasionally stopping to give him a kiss or brush up against him. She browned the chicken and sausage in butter and oil, then put them in a stew pot. For the first time ever, she made a roux from the drippings mixed with flour. Under his supervision, she chopped the onions, garlic, peppers, celery, tomatoes, and okra, then placed it all in the pot with a splash of Worcester sauce.
“That’s it?” she’d asked, feeling delighted as she set the timer for two hours. “That’s easy!”
They’d headed back outside to the pool, where they’d laid downside by side on lounge chairs, holding hands and saying little as they baked in the sun, then cooled off again in the pool. He’d grabbed her and held her, kissing her wet lips, his fingers threaded through her soaked hair. And Jax had wrapped her legs around his body, feeling the hardness of his erection through his bathing suit as they kissed, loving this time together.
Loving.
Loving.
The word had flitted so effortlessly into her head, but it had also made her pause.
Is that what this was? The beginning of love? Is this how it started? Two people who’d grown up in two different parts of the world, crashed into each other on a dark night, and somehow recognized some potential—some fragile, magical possibility in each other’s eyes, in one another’s company. Love. Was she falling in love with Gardener Thibodeaux? Because in twenty-seven years, she’d never felt this way before, and it was frightening and exhilarating, and the thought of ruining it or losing it was a constant and growing ache.
“So you liked t’gumbo?” he asked, grinning at her as he took another sip of the decadent 2012 Montepulciano that she’d discovered in the small wine cellar located in the basement of Le Chateau.
She nodded. “It was delicious.”
“Next time I’ll bring French bread to sop it up.”
“Sopping” one’s food wasn’t something that Jax had grown up doing, but she couldn’t wait to try it. “Deal.”
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
“Sure,” she said, picking up her glass and taking a sip.
“How long you plannin’ to stay here? I mean, I assume you’re headed back to Hollywood at some point, but…”
Jax took a deep breath, unprepared for the way the question stung. She had decided to stay in Philly, and suddenly it felt weird to share that. She didn’t want to think of their relationship as temporary, and it hurt her a little that he did. “I’m not sure what my plans are.”
He’d been sitting back in his chair, but now he leaned forward. “Just so we’re clear…no matter how long you’re here, I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”
“Oh.” Her clenched heart relaxed, and tears of relief pricked her eyes. “I want that too.”
“You still have a place out there?”
She shook her head. “No.” Pausing, she looked behind her, at the yellow stone of Le Chateau, feeling miserable even talking about leaving. “Lately, I’ve been thinking…”
“What?”
Could she trust him with her wishes? With her longings and hopes?
“Well, I’ve been thinking about buying this place.”
“Buyin’ it? Doesn’t your family already own it?”
“Not exactly. My mother owns it. And she doesn’t like it. And despite her…funds, she lives a very expensive life in Paris. Selling Le Chateau would support her spending habits.”
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes holding hers intently. “You’re afraid she’ll sell it?”
She took a gulp of wine, swallowing it over the sudden lump in her throat, and nodded. “Yes.”
“Duchess, it’s a big house—”
“—for one small girl. I know. My sister said that too.”
She watched as he squinted, looking around the pool area. Not that he could see the details of the landscaping, but she knew it would be expensive to maintain. Not to mention the house itself was a massive mansion, enough for a family of six or eight, and the taxes, merde—His eyes focused back on hers.
“It’s a big decision.”
“I see your mind spinning,” she said softly. “It’s a ridiculous thought.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” he said quickly. “But it’s an awful lot to take on.”