Finally Again Page 9

  I gasped. “What?”

  “Hurry.”

  I rushed out of the house and, before I could stop myself, I called Win. When he answered, it was like a balm to my soul. I gasped out the information and asked him to meet me at the hospital. When I arrived, I ran into the emergency room. Boone was pacing while Verity sat very still, looking pale and shaken, with tear tracks down her cheeks. Booker and Aubree rushed in right after me, then the Suttons.

  I knew the moment Win entered. I could feel him in my bones. I turned, and he paused. His eyes were so blue, so shadowed with concern, and I tried so hard to be cool and unemotional. But the instant I met his gaze, something inside me collapsed. I broke and ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck. I touched the side of his face. I didn’t have to urge him, and his arms slid around me, pulling me tight to his warmth and comfort.

  The news was shocking. Appalling. Earl Sutton had murdered my husband because he had discovered Earl’s embezzlement. He’d shot him in the swamp and fed his body to the ‘gators.

  When I learned what had really happened to my beloved Brody, I feared for a moment my conflicting emotions would literally tear me in two—sorrow for my husband, who had been evilly murdered, and blessed relief when what I had always known in my heart was confirmed: Brody had never meant to leave us.

  And I was so thankful Braxton, River Pearl and Chase had survived the dreadful incident. My Braxton, my brave son had saved them all. The Suttons were floored, humbled and contrite.

  And I knew Win and I would weather this terrible ordeal, just as we would handle whatever came at us from his brother James.

  The next few days were filled with healing, and Win held me every night. He didn’t pressure me for any kind of explanation, and I was too emotionally drained to figure out what to say.

  On the day I was to have a memorial for my husband, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find James and Amy Sutton standing there. Win was on his morning run, so I was left to face them alone.

  “May we come in?” Amy asked deferentially, her eyes sad and so vulnerable. James could never look cowed, he was such a powerful man, but he looked just as shaken as his wife, just as sad and vulnerable.

  I opened my door and they came in. After we settled on the sofa, I offered them refreshment, but they waved me off. “We don’t want to trouble you, Evangeline.”

  “Please, call me Evie. And it’s no trouble.”

  Amy squeezed her eyes shut. “You are being so gracious.”

  “We’ve both had a terrible scare.”

  Amy said, “You’ve had much more than that, so much more to endure.” She covered her mouth and James pulled her into his arms.

  “What Amy wants to say…” he cleared his throat. “What we want to say, is that we’re very, very sorry about everything.” He pinned me with an intense, apologetic look. “Everything, Evie.” Tears ran down Amy’s face and my heart went out to her, momma to momma.

  “Thank you for that.”

  “We are appalled that the whole Sutton, Outlaw mess got so out of control. We are so thankful for Braxton and what he did to protect our little girl and son. We don’t know how we can ever repay him for his courage that day.”

  “He loves River Pearl. Just give them your blessing, and I think that will be all that’s needed. We never need to speak of it again.”

  Amy stood, threw her arms around me, and hugged me hard. “I’m sorry for the loss of your husband, and that it happened so cruelly, and at Earl’s hands. We had no idea the extent of his illness.”

  I nodded against her. “I know.” She let me go, and then James stood before me. He reached for my hand and placed a respectful kiss in the air above my knuckles just as Win walked in the door, sweaty from his exertions.

  James and Amy moved toward the door, but James stopped in front of his brother and said, “Win.”

  “No need, James. We’re good. We’re brothers.”

  “She’s a remarkable woman.” He looked back at me, his face full of contrition. “You are a lucky man.”

  “Would you come to supper next week?” Amy asked, giving Win a hug.

  Win looked at me, and I nodded, “Yes, we will,” he said.

  Two hours later, I laid my husband to rest. I was so thankful to have had a chance to say a final goodbye to him. To finally let him go. Win stood by me, his arm around my waist. My boys were overcome with grief at the loss of the man they believed had abandoned them. There was also relief there, too, and dissolving of the anger which had troubled them ever since Brody’s disappearance. It was a healing and beautiful ceremony.

  As people filtered away, I turned into Win, and he held me tight.

  “I was running from reality, Win. I didn’t want to believe Brody was gone. I held on to him, held on with my heart, closed it to everyone, endured. I’ve had male attention, but it was never right for me, so it was easy for me to turn away. Raise my boys alone and keep hoping that someday I would know and understand why he was gone.

  “I was also running from fear of opening my heart again, and that’s where I stood with you. It’s why I let James come between us. It’s why I ran from my feelings. But I know now that I can’t change circumstances, and all that is necessary is for me to change how I feel. How I love. How I live my life. I can’t and won’t let my past dictate to me or railroad me into anything.

  “I want to be with you. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I had doubts and let those doubts turn into a fear. So, if you can forgive me…”

  “Yes, dammit, yes I forgive you. There was no way I would have let you walk away from me anyway. I was planning to wear you down, because we have an amazing connection, and I couldn’t let you go.”

  “Brody was the boys’ father. He was my first love. He was my biggest heartache. It’s almost a relief to know that he’s dead, that he didn’t leave us. I knew it in my heart. He is my past. Win, you are my future.”

  I rested against him, knowing everything would be all right.

  “We’ll take it one day at a time, Evie. Move forward and not look back.”

  I sighed softly and kissed his mouth. I nodded. “No more looking back.”

  We had come out of it stronger and surer.

  I loved Win. I felt it in the deepest part of me.

  I found love.

  Finally…again.

  Epilogue

  Win

  The music was a feast for my ears, the aroma of food a feast for my nose, and Evie a feast for my eyes.

  She stood next to her sister talking avidly. River was holding Duel while Boone and Verity danced, a very sexy, down to the floor Zydeco dance. Aubree and Booker were wrapped up in each other, and Ethan, Verity’s brother, was talking with his Marine friend, Rory. Braxton and the trips’ Uncle Otis Beaupre were jamming with two other gentlemen, their uncle playing the hell out of an accordion, ripping out the toe-tapping Cajun-flavored music with gusto.

  And then there were the Sutton boys, Chase and Jake, my nephews, who were also on the dance floor. This was Booker and Aubree’s engagement and send-off Cajun barbeque blast. He had given her a ring and they’d set the date for a June wedding.

  Then there were her three nephews.

  Remy Beaupre was the Eula Downs Racetrack and Casino operations manager, looking every inch in charge, even at a party. He was the oldest of Heloise and Otis’s sons. Tall, well-built, his hair as dark as Evie’s and her sons, he was outgoing, boisterous, and a smooth talker.

  Suttontowne had just retired Braxton, the town’s notorious skirt-chaser, but it looked like another rogue was going to take over for him to make sure fathers in the county stayed up late worrying. At that moment Remy, the heir apparent to Braxton’s title, went over to Evie and held out his hand. She took it and strolled onto the dance floor with him, looking very sexy, swaying her hips and shuffling her feet in the low, loose lower-body, tight upper-body dance.

  The Beaupres’ middle son Dempsey was an EMT. He was as tall as Remy, and heav
ily muscled, no doubt from his training. He was just as outgoing, but in a quieter, more laid back way. His hair was shorter, but as dark as Remy’s. He was laughing with his youngest brother, Creed. Wild, unpredictable Creed. An attractive boy with shoulder length dark hair and, from what I’d seen of his metal sculptures, destined for a bit of renown. All and all, this was an interesting family.

  I’d already moved into Evie’s house. My rift with James had been mended, and he’d been humbled, horrified at the lengths Earl had gone in his twisted way to “protect the Sutton name.” I could only hope this new James would last, that he would mend his relationship with Chase and stop pushing Jake so hard. But only time would tell.

  I was content to give Evie and me the time we needed to get to know each other, but I was already in love with her.

  She glanced at me and I smiled back. Setting down my iced tea, I shuffled over there in time with the music, and she laughed and said something to her nephew. He looked at me and nodded. We came together in a dance that was the sexiest we could get with our clothes on.

  Creed whooped and everyone hollered as they watched us move together.

  I twirled her right into my arms and escorted her off the dance floor, retreating to the edge of the bayou.

  The moon cast a silvery glow down on the trees and the mist crept, soft and white, across the surface of the black water. The sounds of the bayou were clear over the now faint music.

  “Your family knows how to throw a bash,” I said, pressing my mouth to her temple and breathing in her scent.

  “They do, and you can sure move those hips.”

  “You had any doubt about that?” I said, waggling my brows.

  Her laughter sounded warm and light. The wind sang through the bald cypress, their thick, hard trunks thrusting up from the water, scruffy, stubby knees sticking out like deformities. They looked like tortured creatures cast under an enchantment.

  Floating on the surface around their trunks were sheets of delicate green duckweed and rafts of water hyacinth, faintly violet in the dark and looking deceptively fragile under the shimmering, pale moonlight.

  “I’m glad to be home. I’ve agreed to syndication. I won’t be traveling too far away from you, and when I do, you can come with me. You can start antiquing and maybe open up a shop by rebuilding that shed into something more solid and prettier.”

  She snuggled into my throat, kissing my neck, nodding, breathing deep of my scent. “Sounds wonderful,” she murmured against my throat.

  I nodded. “It will be because of you, Evie.”

  “Because of you, Win.”

  “All right. We’ll call it even,” I said, lowering my mouth to hers for a kiss that was both bonding and beginning, promise and fulfillment…and love.

  #

  Evie

  The next morning when I woke up, Win was gone. We were sleeping together, but not yet intimate. I pulled his pillow to me, inhaling and relishing his delicious scent.

  Then I smelled something else. I got up and made my way to the kitchen to find him cooking, and the aromas made my stomach growl.

  And, as usual, I was stunned, almost overwhelmed by his presence. “Apparently, you learned something along the way when you were eating for a living.”

  He turned and smiled softly. “Morning, beautiful,” he said. “Hungry?”

  “Starving. Thank you for cooking…” I approached and glanced into the pan. “Omelets.”

  “We had eggs, ham and cheese.”

  “I’m going to clean up real quick,” I said, and before I could change my mind, I closed the scant distance between us and pressed against him. His startled blue eyes warmed when I lifted up on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck. I looked at his mouth and then back up at his eyes. He stood stock-still, waiting for me to make my move.

  After a moment, he sighed heavily, then pressed his forehead to mine. “They say kissing the cook gives you good luck,” he said, the words hardly more than a rasp.

  I smiled and laughed softly, feeling light as air. “Do they?”

  “It’s a…” I brushed my mouth over his as he trailed off.

  “What’s the matter?” I teased. “Having a hard time concentrating?”

  He banded an arm around my lower back. “You know I am, especially when you do that…” he lost his voice again when I rubbed my aching lips against his.

  “Maybe I’m making up for lost time.”

  “I think it’s good for you.”

  I stepped back, “And good for you?” I asked.

  “Uh, yeah, that, too.” His blue eyes reflected the early morning sun as it streamed in through the window over the sink. They were filled with open desire, penetrating intensity, and looked a bit stunned in a shell-shocked way that I was feeling just as keenly.

  I looked deep into his eyes and he met my gaze, his lashes so thick over his eyes, the rugged stubble on his jaw accenting the dangerous sensuality of his soft, beautiful lips.

  “I already know,” he said.

  “You know what, Smarty Pants?”

  “That you love me.”

  My eyes filled.

  “I love you, too, Evie.”

  He covered my hand and carried it to his mouth, kissing the backs of my fingers. “You go get your shower. Don’t take too long. The food will get cold,” he said.

  I went upstairs to my room and stripped down. Entering the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped inside. But my body wouldn’t let him go. With the water rippling and streaming against my bare skin, it was so easy to imagine he was there with me, his hands caressing my breasts, my belly, and all those other places now aching for his touch.

  My breathing deepened as a hunger I hadn’t known in years unfolded, opening a well of frustration and loneliness so deep, nothing could touch bottom—except Win.

  The water cascaded around me like liquid fingers caressing my sensitized flesh. He’d reawakened me, and I was alive with a burning need I couldn’t control.

  I wanted him.

  Now.

  Right now.

  I had waited long enough.

  I grabbed a towel, gave myself a quick swipe or two so I wouldn’t drip, and ran to the top of the stairs to call down. “Win, could you come up here?”

  I went back into my bedroom with nothing but the tucked towel around me. He materialized in the doorway, and I trembled at the way his eyes skimmed over me, then ignited.

  “Evie, you’re killing me.”

  “Then we’re even.”

  #

  Win

  For the first time in my life, I was breathless. The anticipation of kissing her, touching her, crashed into me like a wrecking ball. With a few strides I was there, dragging her against me.

  “I want to feel again. I want you, Win. So much,” she said, her words burning across my lips.

  “I need you, Evie. I didn’t even know I was missing something important until I saw you. But you are the one I need.”

  “Win.”

  “Evie?”

  “Kiss me before I die.”

  I took her mouth like a man on his last breath who’d just found his only saving grace. It felt as if she was there for me alone, and the fire between us flared instantly.

  There were no games, no sweet, tender desire. Only irrepressible power. Seething with hunger, boiling over with passion. I’d never known any other woman who could do this to me. Make me lose control. Lose everything. Find everything in her arms.

  Lose even my genteel comportment.

  I didn’t give a damn, either, and pushed my tongue between her lips. My own deep groan shocked me. Inflamed her. And she took back, battling for control like we were loving adversaries.

  I slid my hands around her, molding the curves of her spine. The simplicity of the move somehow heightened all my senses, and my dick throbbed and flexed, eager to be free, to be pushing into her. The very thought made me tremble. She wasn’t being still either—or quiet. Her eager cries drove into my bones with
the power of a sledgehammer, each little begging sound I had longed to hear. Needed.

  My hand swept lower to cup her smooth behind beneath the terrycloth, pull her tighter, and she moaned and thrust, then latched onto my belt, yanking it open.

  “Evie?” I couldn’t believe the question in my voice. Shut up and take, my body screamed.

  Her eyes focused on mine as she reached for the towel tucked between her breasts and released it. My breath huffed out of my lungs in a hard rush as my eyes went over her exquisite body. Long, supple muscles, high, full breasts, the tips hard and dusky, begging for my mouth.

  She closed her eyes and groaned. “Oh, God. Tell me you have condoms.”

  I groaned and her eyes snapped open. “Oh, dammit. I don’t have any here.”

  She slapped her forehead. “Two grown people, and we’re not prepared for sex. That really says something about us.”

  That tickled me and I laughed while groaning all over again.

  “This is not a laughing matter but—” She giggled. “Wait!” She grabbed my arm and said, “Brax left his gym bag here.”

  “Your son has condoms in his gym bag.”

  “He was notorious and is always prepared. Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m saying this. Please let him be prepared.” She rushed out of the room, her long dark hair flying around her irresistibly beautiful body. I collapsed onto the bed, unable to believe the comedy of errors.

  I heard her squeal.

  She pelted back up the stairs. “Pay dirt!” she crowed, holding up the box. I thanked God, although that seemed completely wrong. I was about to make long, ferocious love to a woman using her son’s condoms…and I didn’t give a damn.

  “Where were we?” I said. “Oh, yeah.” I rose and dragged her back against me.

  I passed my hand over her hair, tipping her head back. “I won’t hurt you, Evie.”

  “Promise?” Her voice trembled, and she caught her bottom lip in a sexy move that made my dick tighten even more.