Bare Devotion, page 19
His head went back a barely perceptible amount, and his nostrils flared. That emotional tic of his had always turned her on, as if his animal instincts were bubbling up, and she anticipated how they’d play out sexually.
Sex between them was always very good. This part, the being totally honest, wasn’t.
“They were nice to you?”
“Very. They apologized for their behavior.”
“You still didn’t have to deal with them on your own.” He turned toward the kitchen cupboards, grabbed a glass, and reached for the bottle of bourbon he had on top of the refrigerator. She watched the muscles under his shirt, the shirt streaked with dirt from being against the house while he held her, as he pulled an old-fashioned ice cube tray from the vintage refrigerator’s inside freezer. The cubes clinked against the cocktail glass, the amber liquid making the ice crackle as he poured two fingers.
“Did you tell them about the baby?”
Her cheeks grew hot. “No. That’s for you, or you and me to do. I wasn’t there for that, and then they were so intent on saying they were sorry about the wedding. I did tell them that it wasn’t their fault, that it was on me that I’d run. It was clear you hadn’t told them.”
“I’ve not told anyone. Who have you told?”
“Poppy.”
“But she hasn’t told Brandon—I would have been able to tell when I spoke to him.” He took a sip of his drink. “You haven’t told your mother?”
“No. My grandmother figured it out, she’s like that, as you know. But my folks left too soon after the wedding day.” She swallowed. Really, rehashing the wedding day at this point was a bad plan. It’d only take her down the road of regrets, make her question just what she’d been thinking to back out of the wedding before confronting Henry on her long list of grievances.
The list wasn’t that long, though. Because it all went back to the same thing.
“You don’t trust me, do you? You think I had some ulterior motive for going to Baton Rouge.”
“Do you blame me? You ran away from our wedding, from us, with very little warning. That’s not what I’d call a trust-builder.” He swung back a large portion of his drink, his Adam’s apple working in precise, masculine motions.
“No, it’s not. But we’ve, we’ve started over a little, a lot, on the friendship part, haven’t we?”
“I’d like to think so, or I did, but you just went off and talked to my folks without cutting me in. Sex isn’t friendship, babe.” He finished the drink and slammed the glass down before he stalked off to the bathroom.
Sonja belatedly sat on the quaint sofa, any thought that they’d somehow started over squelched by Henry’s caustic words. The plumbing moaned, and she could do little but sit and listen to the water as it pulsed through the piping, imagining it as it poured over Henry, splattered on the tiles. It was like hearing the tiny bubbles of hope that had started to float around in her heart pop, one by one.
For the first time since she’d returned to this tiny cottage, she let the scalding tears fall. What had she been thinking, making love with him like that, when they were through?
The squeak of the plumbing as he turned off the shower, the sound of his bare feet on the ceramic floor, another addition when they renovated. It wasn’t enough to cry. Wiping her tears with a wadded-up paper towel, she sniffled and straightened her spine.
It started right now, right here. Her life without Henry’s touch.
“The shower’s yours.” He stood in the bedroom doorway, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, his hair damp.
“Henry—”
“I’ll lock up behind me—I’m going to spend some time in the river house, going over what the contractors accomplished today.”
She didn’t say anything in reply but instead went straight through to the bathroom, stripped off the clothes that less than an hour earlier had been tangled between their bodies, and placed herself under the stinging spray.
Rivulets of regret and remorse ran together with the water. She’d allowed herself to get back here, to a place that only spelled hurt. There was no going back, no pretending she’d regained his trust. No matter that as each layer of her reasons for running had peeled off, she’d discovered new insights about Henry. Gone was her vision of the perfect lover, friend, and lawyer. In its place was an honest man who’d made mistakes. Transgressions she’d been unable to consider letting go of, just a month ago.
And now, she was in a different place, had given it all to him against this timeworn home’s original wall not an hour before. It didn’t matter how far she’d come, how much she knew Henry was the only man for her. It was too late. Henry didn’t want her forgiveness, and he certainly didn’t trust her.
They were through.
Chapter 18
“You can always stay here, honey.” Grandma looked at her with eyes that had been Sonja’s refuge her entire life. It’d been two long weeks since she’d driven to Baton Rouge and back, two weeks since she and Henry had done more than speak to one another at the firm.
“I know, Grandma, thank you. I could live with my sisters, too.” They lived in the house they grew up in, while her parents remained in the Caribbean doing medical outreach. “But I’m a big girl, and it’s time I faced my life on its own terms.” She dug into the plate of biscuits and gravy the waitress had brought. She and Grandma were at their favorite breakfast haunt, a family-run diner off the side of an access road. The dilapidated exterior gave nothing away to tourists of how great a feast the locals enjoyed just miles from the French Quarter, but at deep bayou prices.
“That doesn’t mean you have to suffer. You have your child to consider. Emotional upset’s not good for the baby.” Grandma drank her tea, her bowl of grits and eggs already finished. She’d eaten while Sonja poured out her discoveries about herself, Henry, and the impossibility of a life with Henry.
“The baby’s fine. At least when he or she’s letting me eat instead of feeling sick to my stomach.” She didn’t want to go there even mentally, as these respites from nausea were like manna in the world of her first trimester.
“Have you been to the doctor’s yet?”
“Just a quickie appointment to verify my at-home pregnancy test. The first ultrasound is the day after tomorrow.” And she’d mentioned it to Henry, before their blowup. More like breakdown.
“Isn’t your court date tomorrow?”
She’d kept Grandma up to date with the Deidre drama.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You don’t seem worried about it.”
“You know, I’m not. I was at first, but the evidence is so clearly on my side.” And get her to stop stalking her. It had been driven home to her over the past several days. She’d seen Deidre in the Piggly Wiggly, downtown near the firm’s office at lunchtime, and yesterday she’d walked by a café while she and Poppy had tea. Deidre wasn’t watching Henry, she was keeping her eye on Sonja.
“What’s worrying you most?” Grandma’s gaze was pointedly on Sonja’s hand, which had crept over her abdomen.
“How I’ll handle being this baby’s mother, working with Henry, without getting emotional about it. We, we only talk to one another at work.” And only when absolutely necessary. She seriously needed to think about transferring to another firm, her finances be damned. She and Henry had done nothing with their nonprofit idea, and she didn’t see it happening. Not now.
“Talking isn’t the only way to communicate.”
“Grandma.” She played the aggrieved granddaughter with the too-hip matriarch. “That’s over.”
Edwina’s eyes sparkled as she sipped her coffee, her lips in that straight line that indicated she was in her wise sage mode. “Your parents aren’t you, Sonja. Have you spoken to either of them about any of this yet?”
Sonja sighed. “No. I haven’t told anyone about the baby, either. Except you. And Poppy.”
“How’s Poppy doing? She still seeing Henry’s brother?”
“Yes.” Sonja didn’t want to go there, either. It sucked to not be the one in love, looking forward to a life together. Tears pushed at her lids, and she blinked.
Edwina placed her hand over hers, her thin, wrinkled skin as soft as it’d ever been. “You’ll have love again, honey. Give it time. And if nothing else, you have the world to look forward to with the baby.”
“I know.” She blew her nose. “I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
“No problem with that, for a minute. But don’t stay there. That spells trouble quicker than anything.”
“Thanks, Grandma.” The warmth of Edwina’s love shot straight to her heart, and she’d like to think, to the baby’s. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. But you will be. Just remember, the best is yet to come.” Grandma plunked a bill down on the Formica table, the denomination enough to cover four people. “Leave the change for her tip. We’re all working hard. I’ve got to get to the library.” She gave Sonja a quick kiss on the cheek before she left for her weekly book group.
Sonja watched the elder Bosco’s hips sway, wondering how Grandma must have been at her age. She’d had four kids, a full-time teaching job, and a demanding husband by now. By all accounts Edwina had enjoyed a great marriage to a fine man who, at forty-six, had left her a widow far too young. Sonja had never met him. And Edwina never remarried, but Sonja wouldn’t put it past her to have a date on the side here and there. Though there were few men who’d ever be a match for her grandmother.
“You need anything else, sugar?” Sonja looked into the waitress’s wizened face.
“No, I’m good.”
What a load of crap.
* * * *
Henry prided himself on three things: being punctual, being the best lawyer in New Orleans, and pleasing his woman. As he ran up the courthouse steps in the warm spring morning, he knew with a sick dread that he was sucking it big time at all three.
He’d almost missed getting here entirely when his tire blew out on the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. Fortunately Brandon wasn’t far away and had been able to stay with Henry’s truck to change the tire and sent Henry along with his vehicle.
The courthouse enveloped him in its antique scents of oak, lemon oil, and the sweat of thousands of accused defendants. There was only one sweeter smell in the world. He had to shove that aside for now, stay focused on the case at hand. Remembering how Sonja smelled, the way her skin seemed to waft jasmine and sexy, wasn’t something his head could handle at the moment.
What about your heart, stupid?
He got through the security checkpoint only after having to pull the car keys out of his pocket and step through the metal detector again. The security guard motioned for him to step onto the square mat where he wanded Henry. His internal clock counted the dreaded seconds as the guard took his time.
“Awfully thorough today.” Henry made the small talk through gritted teeth, really wanting to take off for courtroom number nine. It was actually the judge’s chambers, where he, Sonja, and Deidre would face Judge Perkins. Along with the filing police officer, the craft store security guard, and Deidre’s lawyer. Sonja had allowed him to represent her, officially. But they were doing this as a team, no matter what kind of bullshit she’d said about this not being his business.
He mentally paused and reminded himself that he wasn’t the college kid who Deidre had stalked. That was a lifetime or two ago. He had the information and legal tools to make Deidre disappear. Not thriller movie disappear, but get the help she obviously needed. And leave Sonja alone.
He shoved open the heavy outer door and nodded at the clerk. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not. Judge Perkins was delayed. You’ve got about thirty seconds.”
Henry didn’t bother to respond as he walked through the next open door and entered the chamber. Sonja’s gaze met his, and it was the first time in two weeks she’d blessed him with a full, honest look. She was relieved to see him.
Warmth pummeled his chest and spread outward. It was only because she needed him here to back her up, of course. But it was enough.
“Judge Perkins.” He nodded and slid into the seat next to Sonja. They were behind a small table, and Deidre sat at another small table with a woman Henry assumed was her lawyer. The rest of the gathered sat in the few chairs behind the defendant’s.
“Counselor Boudreaux.” The woman who’d gone to law school with his father gave nothing away in her professional assessment of him. Without hesitation, as soon as Henry’s ass hit the hard chair, she slammed her gavel down and looked at the door. “Shut the door, clerk. We’re in session.”
Judge Perkins got right to the point. “I’ve read the motion to dismiss, and I am going to get to my decision in a moment. Ms. Deidre Jones, please stand.”
“Yes, your honor.” Deidre was dressed in the most demure white pin tuck suit, complete with a Peter Pan collar blouse, her blond hair up in a high ponytail. Henry’s gut clenched. This was the Deidre he’d faced for over a year after he’d broken their engagement.
“I’ve read your complaint and looked at the police affidavit, which includes the security video feed from the craft store.” Judge Perkins nodded at her clerk, who hit a few buttons on a laptop and effected the widescreen television to display the video.
“If you’ll notice, Ms. Jones, you appear to be doing nothing more than dropping and rolling after you clearly moved toward Ms. Bosco and knocked her phone out of her hand. Do you have anything to say about this?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Here”—Judge Perkins held up a signed document, pointing to Deidre’s signature—“you confirmed that this video was of you, on the date of said incident. Do you realize that Ms. Bosco is in her right to sue you for defamation?”
“Your honor, I’m so sorry. This is only because Mr. Boudreaux and I have a prior history and I, I’ve never stopped loving him. I was still in shock that he was getting married when I saw his fiancée in the craft supply store.”
Judge Perkins looked at Sonja. Henry wanted to speak but knew he had to bide his time and only speak when asked to. If he was. Helplessness collided with his powerlessness to help Sonja, and he gritted his teeth. “What say you, Counselor Bosco?”
“Your honor, Ms. Jones approached me in the craft store over two weeks after our wedding day. For the record, the wedding did not occur.”
“Your honor, they invited me to the wedding!”
“That’s not pertinent for this case, Ms. Jones. But since you brought it up, I have a statement from Hudson and Gloria Boudreaux that they were the ones to invite you, without informing Ms. Bosco nor her former fiancé, Mr. Boudreaux.”
Deidre’s face sank in on itself. Henry thought Judge Perkins was being uncharacteristically patient. He’d worked cases where she’d verbally sliced and diced defendants and prosecutors alike, all in a single sentence. He prayed that she saw that there was something wrong with Deidre.
Sonja sat silently next to him, and he fought to not put his hand on hers under the table or give her leg a quick squeeze. Since the night of her drive to Baton Rouge, they’d passed like strangers, never talking in the guesthouse, save for minimal courtesies. They were only roommates. He looked at her, and she turned her face from the judge’s bench, where Perkins was shuffling papers, preparing to make her decision.
Sonja’s large liquid brown eyes were filled with tears, and he had no idea why. Damn it all, he’d lost the ability to read her. To know her, the way a partner should.
The way her husband would. Husband.
Holy legal case, he wasn’t miserable because Deidre was back in his life, or because she was stalking Sonja. It wasn’t the trust issue anymore—of course he trusted Sonja. She’d gone to his parents without consulting him first—so what? As she’d asked him, did he think he was God? Above all else, his misery wasn’t because Sonja had jilted him. They’d jilted each other. Neither of them had been willing to admit they needed more work on their relationship, and on themselves, before they made a commitment that involved vows.
He had to fix this.
“Counselor Boudreaux.” Sharp and insistent, Judge Perkins’s query clearly wasn’t the first time she’d spoken to him.
“Yes, your honor.”
“Do you have anything to add?”
“No. My client rests.” He sure as hell didn’t, though. He had so much to say to her, to prove to his client. The woman who was a lot more than that to him.
“Okay, let’s get to the point, folks. Ms. Jones, it’s clear to me that you’ve brought false charges against Ms. Bosco at great risk to her professional and personal reputation.” The judge droned on, saying the things both Henry and Sonja had heard countless times in cases where clients had done the same. It was the bottom line that Judge Perkins circled around that Henry mentally held his breath for.
“The court dismisses this case with prejudice. And Ms. Jones, I hope you get the help you need. It’s clear to me that you are unreasonably obsessed over Mr. Boudreaux and his former fiancée, Counselor Bosco. I’m going to order you to attend twelve mandatory counseling sessions and as many visits to a psychiatrist. Are there any questions?”
Whomever Deidre had for her lawyer, the woman had a magical effect on her, as Deidre only nodded, her attorney’s arm around her. As usual, Deidre’s parents were nowhere to be seen, and Henry felt a moment of compassion, quickly doused by the singular memory of Deidre talking to Sonja at the church on what would have been their wedding day.
* * * *
“We need to talk, Henry.” She stood in his office, and he gave himself a moment to soak in her beauty. The looser-fitting, frothy kind of dress emphasized her breasts and hips, and left a lot of room for what he assumed was her burgeoning baby bump. He wouldn’t know, as she hadn’t let him touch her again. He hadn’t let himself get close enough. Even after the dismissal, when emotions were riding high and it was too easy to think they’d ever figure out a way back to one another, he hadn’t hugged her or kissed her cheek.
