of themselves and health care was a joke—not very affordable or available. Julien’s mother had a lot of health problems.
“She’s doing okay,” he said, the sparkle leaving his eyes. “She has her good days. Just has to watch that old ticker. Heart disease ain’t pretty.”
“Take care of her, Julien.”
He took her hand again. “I will, I promise. But what about you and your sisters?”
Alma knew what he was asking. What about the cancer? Are you all safe?
“Callie is doing great. Her last checkup was a positive one—all clear.” She thought about what Callie had been through and said a silent prayer for her sister. “And Brenna—you know her. Always going and doing. A busy career woman. But she’s good at her job and she loves working for the art gallery. She talks about planning her wedding, but I’m not sure that will ever happen.”
He turned toward Alma then. “And you?”
What about her? She couldn’t tell him the secrets of her heart. “I’m okay. Tired. Missing my mama today. Wishing for things—”
“What kind of things?”
Alma swallowed back the hopes and dreams, refusing to let them float to the surface. “You know, more money to pay bills and less hours spent in that café. More time with Papa and my sisters. More… I don’t know. I’m content, Julien. Just content.”
“Is that all you want out of life? To be ‘just content’?”
She wanted to shout to him, no, she wanted more. She wanted him to tell her he had changed…she wanted to forgive him for his youthful indiscretions. But Alma had been through so much pain, she was almost afraid to look for love and a family. What if she found someone—other than the man staring at her now—and then she got sick like Mama had? Would that person stand by her through such a sickness? Or worse, what if she gave in to Julien’s flirtations and fell for him all over again, only to get her heart broken one more time or to only get sick the way her mama had gotten sick? She couldn’t put carefree, laid-back Julien through that. She didn’t want to put any man through that.
“You have that look, chère,” he whispered against her hair.
“What look is that?”
“That faraway look. It breaks my heart.”
Did everyone around here know her so well?
“I’ll be fine, Julien. It’s just, spring always makes me think of Mama. She loved her garden, loved spring on the bayou. It’s hard sometimes.”
He looked out over the water, his gaze following two fussy wood ducks. “My daddy’s birthday is next month.”
Alma’s heart broke open a little bit. “Oh, that’s right. He always loved this time of year. He used to tease that we only had the seafood festival to celebrate his birthday.” She touched a hand to Julien’s arm. “I miss him, too.”
Julien shrugged, as if shaking off the pain. “Oui, we all do. But I want to see you laugh again, so let’s talk about something else.”
She got up, pulling away. “I need to get back.”
“But we were just getting started.”
Alma looked at her watch. “Your five minutes are up.” She turned to head back up the path, this new intimacy startling her and leaving her unsettled. “But I do appreciate the little break.”
Julien got up to follow her. “What if I want more than five minutes?”
Shocked, she stopped. “Since when?”
He put his hands on her arms. “Since I’m getting older and wiser and you’re getting prettier and smarter.” He turned serious then. “I can’t seem to settle down, Alma. And I’m thinking it’s your fault.”
“My fault? You’re crazy.”
“No, just a man with a purpose. I’m thinking you’ve spoiled me for other women.”
Her pulse jumped like a fish coming out of the water, just a flash. “Then you need to rethink that.”
Alma pivoted and started walking. She heard him running to catch up with her. What had come over him?
His words echoed up to her. “You like bothering me, don’t you? I mean, you like making me suffer.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” she said over her shoulder. “And I don’t have time to make anyone suffer.”
Except herself.
“You are a bother, though. You won’t go away. Always in my head, always the smell of flowers and the image of those pretty eyes of yours.”
There went her pulse, her heart, again. “I don’t want to be there—inside your head. Let me out.”
He tugged her back just as they reached the back porch of the café. “I can’t shake you.”
“So what are you going to do about it, Julien?”
He didn’t speak. But he did something, all right.
He leaned down and kissed her smack on the lips. A long, measured, meandering kiss that bubbled and churned with as many undercurrents as that big bayou. His kiss was certainly as dangerous as those ancient waters.
She pulled away long enough to whisper a plea. “Stop it, Julien.”
But he didn’t stop, even when the few customers and workers on the big porch started whistling and clapping.
Chapter Three
“How did you hear that?”
Alma glared at her cell phone then put it back to her ear.
Her sister Brenna laughed, the sound tinkling like chimes through the phone line. “Are you kidding? I still have friends in Fleur, you know. Friends with cell phones and social networks. They keep me informed. I even have a picture. Hold on.”
Alma groaned then glanced out the window of the cottage where she lived behind the restaurant. Less than two hours since Julien had pulled that stunt and already it had gone viral.
Her sister’s silky voice returned. “Okay. I sent you a copy. Look.”
“I don’t have time—” But she looked anyway. “Oh, wow.”
“Oh, wow is right,” Brenna said, giggling again. “That would look good on a romance novel cover.”
“Yeah, right. Don’t get any ideas.”
“Oh, I only have one idea,” Brenna said with a sigh. “We need a wedding in Fleur. And you and Julien have been dancing around this thing since high school. Actually, since kindergarten.”
