Scents of lavender and vanilla hung in the air as Mariana sealed the last two boxes of soap, slid them to Lemon and Zoya for shipping labels, then puffed a strand of hair from her eyes. "My online presence is paying off." Mariana had spent an hour each day for the past few weeks following different stores on Facebook, then posted photos of her products. Of the six companies who visited her site, two placed orders.
Lemon pressed the sticker onto the carton. "I'm familiar with Peabody's in New Orleans, but not Balwen's in Shreveport."
"It has everything you can imagine. From bath products to home interiors," Zoya said.
"You've been there?"
"Uh, yeah. A long time ago."
Zoya didn't seem like a city girl or the type to shop in an upscale boutique. But her eyes flickered as if she'd said too much, so Mariana wondered if that's where she was from.
Mariana glanced at Lemon. "I've been thinking I'd find someone to represent my line at the home and gift show in NOLA next September. That would give me time to build inventory."
"Holy hell. I have an idea. Why don't we check into renting a space and do it ourselves? By then, I should have my jewelry line going. That way, we wouldn't have to pay a middleman." She pressed a hand to her chest and shrugged. "I've been told I have natural sales skills so who better to promote our stuff than moi?"
Mariana stacked the shipping boxes by the door. "Bad thing about that is we'll have to come up with money and I have no idea how much those spots cost."
Lemon pulled out her phone and typed. "I've put it on my to-do list. I'll check on that and get back to you." Then she looked at Zoya. "You all set for your big date?"
"It's a plus one."
"Call it whatever you like, but you said he bought new clothes, so I'd say it's a date. You gonna let him kiss you good night?"
Mariana shot Miss Enthusiastic a glare. "Lemon!"
Zoya's face reddened, and that weird giddy excitement in her stomach was back in full force. It was entirely unnerving. Maybe she was getting sick, but the symptoms were all wrong.
"Hey. Just saying she needs to be prepared."
"I'd like to kiss him."
Mariana snapped her head around so fast, she almost got whiplash. "Are you kidding?"
"No."
Lemon put her cell away and focused on Zoya. "Has Roman changed? Just a few weeks ago you called him a jerk."
"He's stopped drinking and smoking so much. He hasn't gone out since the bad storm. I think he's been too tired because he works so hard on the house. And he let me keep Homer."
At the sound of his name, the puppy rose from his sleeping spot in the corner and trotted to Zoya. She lifted him into her arms.
To emphasize her advice, Mariana leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "If you fall for him, you'll get hurt. The men in that family have a history of not being able to commit."
Zoya shook her head. "What do you mean?"
Mariana shouldn't have said anything, but Zoya was too trusting, probably with no experience with a player like Roman. As a friend, she was duty bound to warn her. "While Malcolm was married to Roman's mom, he went and fooled around with another woman, and Rosamie was stupid enough to think he'd never cheat on her, but he did." Mariana removed her apron, hung it on a hook by the door, and spoke over her shoulder. "Sad thing about it—Roman and Rosamie knew he was unfaithful. He always had a woman on the side. Kids learn by example. I rest my case."
"Roman's not his father," Zoya said, her voice rising an octave. "They're coming for a visit." She amended.
Mariana's breath caught in the back of her throat. "When?"
"As soon as the house is finished."
"His dad, too?"
"No. Just his sister and step-brother."
"Yeah, that's what I figured. Roman doesn't speak to his father." The soap molds back in place, she grabbed a rag and viciously wiped the counter. "You be sure and let me know when they're coming."
Lemon finished applying a coat of lipstick, then stuck the tube and compact back in her purse. "Me, too. Man, the last time I saw those two was at Charamel's service. Flynn isn't bad looking, but Ophelia is hot. I wanted to flirt with her, but thought the situation was inappropriate. You know, it being her grandmother's funeral and all."
She pulled her hair to the top of her head and wrapped a hair tie around it. "I have a feeling if I was alone with a single Ophelia too long, I'd need a whole lot of control to keep my panties on." They have different dads, you know," she rambled. "I'm pretty sure Ophelia's dad was the owner of Island Grill on the bayou. The black one, not the creepy white one with the pornstasche." She raked fingers through the strands of her ponytail. "Where were we? Oh, right. Hey, I don't blame you for wanting Roman. But Mariana's probably right. Heartbreak starts with a kiss."
After Zoya and Lemon left, Mariana grabbed a broom and swept the floor with a vengeance. Roman coming to Arcadia had messed up everything. It was wrong for her to wish he'd stayed in prison, but her life would be easier if he had. Now, she'd have to deal with Flynn and that created a problem.
She'd never been good at lying and if he so much as suspected Tommy was his, she wouldn't be able to keep it from him. The thought of seeing him again unnerved her, and she had heard of his engagement several months ago. It'd even been in the local papers, as if a small-town boy who left and got engaged was breaking news, even if the older residents of town talked about him behind his back for getting caught with the mayor's son when they were fifteen.
Her fingers throbbed from gripping the broom. She stopped and rubbed her hands together, only to realize her heart ached more. If Flynn discovered her secret, he'd fight for custody. What if his wife-to-be was a total bitch?
Mariana's head spun. She dragged out a stool and sat. The thought of alternating holidays and every other weekend with her son was too much. She slowly rose, leaned the broom against the counter, and stepped outside into the early evening air. She inhaled a mixture of pine, wild privet, and her mother's fried chicken. Another thought tortured her. From the time Tommy could sit in his high chair, he'd joined them at the family table. Would Flynn's new wife have the same tradition? Could she even cook?
Mariana shoved her hands into the pockets of her thrift store jacket and took off to find her son. No doubt, Flynn could provide more for Tommy than her pocketbook. As her son got older, would he be so impressed with all the toys and gadgets Flynn bought and fixed that he'd prefer to live with his dad?
Sunlight sifted through the trees like laser beams, and a murder of crows scattered among the limbs. This is where Tommy belonged. In the woods conquering imaginary monsters, fighting evil, and saving the planet. Riding his imaginary steed on a make-believe trail ride. Pretending to soar above the clouds into fantasy lands and finding earthworms and frogs was as much fun as watching cartoons.
She couldn't share her son with some high society sorority girl more interested in getting her nails done than paying attention to him. She stopped in her tracks to gaze up at the treehouse. Guilt weighed in her chest like a stone. She'd lost her virginity here. Conceived Tommy here.
Regret strangled her. She hated that she'd loved him. She despised that she still did. She cleared her throat and drew a staggering breath.
Tommy's sweet face appeared in the window. "Hey, Mama. Whatchoo doing?"
"It's time for dinner."
"Come up here. I gots something to show you."
She couldn't count the hours she'd spent inside those walls. For weeks after Flynn left, she'd returned here and dreamed of the day he'd call or text or write. But it didn't happen. When three months passed, she realized she'd meant nothing more than a summer fling. A score. Lying awake at night, she thought about how he was probably boasting to all his friends how he'd taken a simple country girls' innocence and how eager she'd been to let him.
One time. The first time. She'd been a fool to have sex without protection. After that, she'd made him use a condom every time, but it was already too late. "No, baby. I don't want to come up."
"Please, Mama."
She took in some air and started her climb. When she reached the top rung, she propped a hip in the opening and focused on the chalkboard mounted on the wall. "That's great, Tommy. You're a good artist."
He pointed to each item as he spoke. "This is a pine tree. This is honeysuckle. I had to use my 'magination cause it's not blooming yet. Zoya says to draw good you have to 'member how stuff looks cause sometimes you can't see it."
Mariana smiled. For a first grader, he had real talent. Didn't know where he got it because she couldn't draw more than a stick figure. "It's beautiful. Let me take a picture to show abuela and abuelo." She withdrew her phone and clicked.
Suddenly it all became clear. She couldn't let Flynn find out until she knew what kind of girl he was marrying. She had to do whatever it took to keep her secret. Punching the number into her phone, her abuela answered on the second ring. "Hi, abuela—I know. It's been a while. That's why I'm calling. I thought Tommy and I might come for a visit. When?—I'm not sure just yet, but soon."
As Zoya made her way toward home, she stopped to let Homer sniff a bush. Each time she brought him to the woods, it was like an adventure. He scampered into the underbrush, licked and smelled any leafy thing he could find, and hiked his leg on every trunk to mark his territory.
She wondered if Roman considered the dog hers. She already loved the pet and hated to think of leaving him behind. Lately, new emotions flooded her brain. Like her relationship with Roman.
She gave the leash a gentle tug to get Homer back on track. He sat and scratched his ear, then took off in a trot. She needed to check him for fleas. She filed that idea away and went back to earlier.
Because of Mariana's disapproving expression, Zoya wished she'd not mentioned wanting to kiss Roman. But since the night he'd held her hand during the storm, she'd thought about him all the time. His lips. His chest. His hands. She knew it was stupid, but she couldn't help herself.
He'd never be interested in kissing her. The women he liked were older, prettier, slimmer, and wilder. The most she could hope for would be friendship.
The tone of Mariana's warning said a lot. She had history with Roman's family. Zoya didn't know if it was all of them or just one. She seemed interested in when they planned to arrive and who all was coming.
Zoya's chest tightened. Malcolm sounded like a man who wasn't satisfied with just one woman. Surely he wasn't Tommy's dad. No, couldn't be. Mariana wouldn't be attracted to a man his age. Zoya's heart thudded. It had to be Flynn or even Roman, though she vehemently denied it.
The house came into view and Zoya saw Roman, shirt off, hammer in hand, nailing a board into place on the new porch. She stopped and watched him. His muscles flexed as he drove in the nail. Her heart thundered. What was wrong with her? She didn't just want to kiss him; she wanted to touch him, and to have him touch her, sounded even better.
For the next few days, Roman couldn't stop thinking about Zoya saying he was sexy. The girl confused him. She didn't seem to have a filter. Said what she pleased without belittlement or malice. And obsessed over everything. He'd grown a bit accustomed to her frankness, even sort of appreciated her blatant honesty that never seemed to have a bit of hostility, even though she was certainly entitled to it given how he'd treated her when he arrived. He was still taken back at times, especially when she called him sexy, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, like the sky is blue, trees are green, and Roman DeRoux is sexy. He shook his head, a corner of his lip raised slightly in amusement.
The treehouse had been a surprise. Figured it would have been in shambles by now, but someone had kept it up all these years. A few floor boards had been replaced, and the ladder looked new. He guessed kids who lived nearby played there. Fine by him, as long as they didn't damage his property. His property. The words sounded strange. Even though he was adding onto the house, most of the time he still considered it Charamel's. Probably always would. He'd be seventy and yelling at kids to get off his lola's lawn.
He'd probably do that now.
The last of the workers drove away and Roman took a quick shower. Tomorrow he'd be Zoya's plus one. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her. High school was one of the best times of his life. He hated she'd missed hanging out with friends on a Saturday night. Sitting on the back row at the theater. Grabbing a pizza then congregating in the parking lot of the local Safeway. Making out in the backseat of the car.
The thought stopped his nostalgia. He wondered if she'd ever made out with anyone. Even been kissed? Must have. He'd seen the birth control pills in her bathroom. Hell, just because she hadn't attended public school didn't mean she'd not had contact with boys.
He stepped from the shower, leaned on the porch railing, and watched a pair of black-bellied whistlers swim on the pond. It's the first time he'd seen them, but they'd been nesting here for years. He and Ophelia spent one summer trying to locate their eggs, but never found them.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the woods. He loved this place more every day. He'd never leave. It was his sanctuary. His saving grace. The one place he felt safe. Baton Rouge had once been his home, but now it might as well be a foreign country. He'd lost everything there. His girl. His best friend. His freedom. His soul.
After dressing, he strolled into his new bedroom and peered outside. He had a clear view of the garden spot. Zoya, hoe in hand, dug holes and dropped a seed potato into each one. Homer scampered about and Roman could tell from Zoya's head movements that she was talking to him.
Funny how she had no trouble yakking with the dog, but talking to Roman made her uneasy. However, she was changing on that front. During their dinner question-and-answer game, he'd learned she had no siblings.
The thought occurred to him that she was nervous about having extra people in the house and planned to stay with someone else. That was probably the reason for the interrogation. She needed to make arrangements in advance.
Well, at least we know who Tommy's dad is.
TEASER: "I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."
I wonder who is talking.