Loved Bayou (Martin Family Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter 14

My mom invited Jacob to the picnic before she left. She actually called it "the church picnic", which made me wince. Jacob was gracious enough, and thanked her for the invitation, but it was obvious that he wasn't trying to commit to anything.

He stayed at my house all afternoon. I felt much better than I had all morning, but I was still feeling the affects of being sick. It's funny how being sick can make you drop your guard. I didn't even care that I looked terrible. I didn't feel nervous about entertaining Jacob or looking good for him like I might have done if I was feeling well.

It was as real as real gets. Being sick is worse than having on no make up—it's having on no make up, plus having symptoms that make you look extra bad. The funny thing was I didn't even care. Being comfortable around Jacob came easy to me, and I just treated him like the brother I never had. Okay, so maybe I was flirting a little, but things felt very friendship-ey, which didn't bother me on a day when I was sick.

Jacob stayed at my house till the sun went down that evening. We talked a lot, but we also sat there and watched a movie together. I told him before he left that I had a lot of work to catch up on the next day since it was Friday and I had been out of town and then out of commission all week. He acted like I shouldn't feel the need to explain that to him, which hurt a little for some reason.

***

I had a lot to catch up on in New Orleans, so the following day went by quickly. The picnic was Saturday from 5 to 7, and earlier that day, I helped my mom make cookies and those little pinwheels you make with cream cheese and flour tortillas. Amelia was at home for once, and we had a good time goofing off in the kitchen with Mom. I wouldn't call Friday or Saturday
bad
days because they were fine, and I was definitely happy to be feeling better. I did, however, think about Jacob a lot and wonder when I would hear from him again. He took my phone number before he left Thursday night, but as of Saturday afternoon, I still hadn't heard from him.

That all changed at 5:13PM when I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.

Unknown Number: "Hello, is this Alex?"

My heart started racing the instant I read it. I knew it was Jacob. It would be too random for someone else to text me asking that question. I typed a response.

Me: "Yes." I also included a blushing smiley face emoji.

Unknown Caller: "This is Jacob."

Me: "I figured." Blue heart emoji.

Jacob: "Come over."

I smiled and looked around the picnic, wondering if anyone could see what I was reading.

Me: "Now? It just started."

Jacob: "What just started?"

Me: "The picnic."

Jacob: "Thought that would be over by now. Pictured it happening for lunch."

Me: "5-7. I have to run the cakewalk later, or I would leave."

Jacob: "Don't leave. Just thought it was over and wanted to see if you wanted to stop by."

Me: "I want to. Can I come by at 7?"

Jacob: "Yep."

Me: "Unless you want to come here now."

Jacob: "Ha-ha."

Me: "See you at 7."

Jacob: "Sounds good."

I chose two more emojis, a smiley face and a kissy face, and I pressed send before I could think better of it. I put my phone into my purse, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of seeing him again.

I was so happy that I felt like I wanted to walk around hugging everybody. I was the friendliest girl at the picnic—Ms. Popular, thanks to Jacob for inviting me over. My mom asked what had gotten into me, and I told her the truth. She made a plate for him, which only added to my happiness. I ran that cakewalk like nobody's business, feeling like I absolutely couldn't wait for seven o'clock.

Before I knew it, I was on my way to his house. I passed my own driveway before I got to his, and I went ahead and pulled into it so I could glance in the mirror. It was hot out, and I had been sweating at the picnic. It was Louisiana, and I was used to sweating, but I wanted to make sure there wasn't anything embarrassing going on, so I decided to stop and freshen up.

It was almost 7:30 when I pulled into his driveway, and I smiled at the sight of the open gate as I drove through it. Jacob was walking on a path that ran along the side of his house. It was turning dusk and it was shady, so it took me a second to realize he was shirtless.

"Oh dear Lord, oh dear Lord," I whispered when I caught sight of him. He didn't even have a shirt over his shoulder like he might put it on later—he had no shirt at all. He had on a pair of light colored cargo shorts that rode low on his hips, and as he got closer, I could see the slightest edge of dark boxers peeking out from under the waistline—not that I was looking. I watched him from the driver's seat, feeling too stunned and nervous to move. He was broad at the shoulders, and I could see the ridges of muscles that ran down his stomach and sides.

I watched him walking, thinking the temptation was too great. There was no way I could pull off the friendship thing with him walking around like that. I was already tongue-tied enough as it was. It would be impossible to concentrate with him in this current condition. He gestured with a wave of his hand for me to come toward him, so I smiled and opened the door, doing my best to seem like I wasn't completely ga-ga.

He was close to me by the time I got out of the car. I could see he was filthy, which would explain the lack of clothing. He leaned to the side and gave his hair a shake, letting sawdust trickle to the ground. He wiped his face as he was straightening up. In one motion with the face wipe, he stepped forward into my space and put a quick kiss right on the top of my cheek near my temple. I smiled as I pulled back to look at him. He was completely covered in fine, powdery sawdust.

"I've been sanding," he said, wiping his hair again. "I'm sorry. I meant to take a shower before you got here, but I go into a time warp when I'm working."

"You even smell like wood," I said, dusting some sawdust off his cheek with my fingertips.

"Is that bad?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It's good. I like it. They should make wood cologne."

"I'm pretty sure I smell bad next to you," he said, leaning forward as if to sniff me.

I smiled. "I put on some lavender when I went by the house just now. I got sweaty at the picnic."

"You're far from sweaty," he said, sizing me up.

"Maybe compared to you, but I still had to dab a little essential oil just in case." I lifted my forearm to my nose so I could smell the lavender oil I had just put on.

"Let me see," he said. He reached out for my arm, and I held it close to his nose. He breathed in before moving up to my upper arm and breathing in again. I held my breath, feeling overtaken by butterflies. As if that wasn't enough, he continued up to my neck. "All of you smells good," he said, pulling back to look at me.

I smiled even though my heart was about to beat out of my chest. He was devastatingly wonderful, even sweaty and completely covered in sawdust. I was out-of-my mind infatuated with this guy.

"I brought a plate from the picnic," I said, acting casual. "If you're hungry."

"I'm always hungry, and thank you." He took the plate from me before reaching out to close my car door. "Do you mind hanging out with Larry for a second while I take a quick shower?"

"Are you gonna put a shirt on after that?" I asked.

"What, you don't like my abs," he asked, looking down at his stomach like he was genuinely concerned.

I pushed at his shoulder. "Yeah, they're just not what I was expecting," I said, regretfully. I pointed to my own mid section. "I just thought they'd be, you know, more cut."

"Oh, I'm not
cut
enough for you?" he asked as we walked toward his front door.

I pushed at him again. "You know I'm just messing with you."

"Yes, I'll put a shirt on," he said. "I planned on having one on when you got here, I just lost track of time."

"You're plenty cut, just so you know," I said. He was opening his front door at the time that I said it, and I basically mumbled it because I realized it was a silly thing to say after it was already leaving my mouth.

"What?" he asked, cupping his ear to me as I walked past him into the house.

Larry was excited to see us, giving two loud barks that made me jump.

"Be quiet," Jacob said, reaching down to pat his dog when we came inside. "The lady was trying to tell me something." He looked at me as if waiting for me to repeat what I said.

I rubbed Larry's head, looking down shyly. "Nothing," I said. "I just said you're plenty cut for my taste. But you know how you look; I don't have to tell you. We were just joking around anyway."

I glanced up at him after I finish talking to find that he was looking at me with that same half-smile. "I'm gonna take a shower," he said.

"I'll be out here chillin' with Larry. Can I play a record?"

"No Otis Redding."

I shrugged. "Fine."

I put on a album called Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder, but turned it low enough where I wouldn't be tempted to ask him to dance when he came out. Two songs later, Jacob came down the hall wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a navy blue T-shirt. I knew he was coming because Larry ran that way to meet him.

By instinct, or some sort of gravitational pull, I followed Larry to the far side of the living room where Jacob had just emerged from the hallway. I probably could have waited for him to cross to me, but I couldn't help myself. It was all I could do to keep from throwing myself into his arms. I stopped a few feet from Jacob, and he shot me a playfully offended glare before reaching out to tug me by the arm. I stepped forward, and he caught me, taking me into his arms like a magnificent dream come true. I instantly molded to him, holding him around his middle while I rested my face on his chest. He smelled like a fresh shower after hard work, which was just about the equivalent of heaven.

"You like Stevie Wonder?" he asked, pulling back to stare down at me. There was an unfamiliar song playing, and I smiled and shrugged shyly. "I don't know about half the stuff you have over there. I just recognized his name.

Jacob dug into the food I brought from the picnic, and we talked a lot as he sat there and ate. We discussed mainly music, and he had me changing the record ten different times to show me specific songs, and expose me to new (old) artists. It was during this conversation that it happened… and it was the most breathtaking thing I had ever seen.

Jacob was sitting way over there at his kitchen island, and I was all the way over by the record player when (by his instruction) I put on a Curtis Mayfield song called
Move On Up
. I had never even heard of Curtis Mayfield and didn't know what to expect, so when the funky sound of the horns started playing, I acted by instinct and started disco dancing. I turned around, pointing my fingers and jigging to the music. I planned on only doing it for a second, just to be silly with him about the song selection, but my dancing must have struck him funny because a
huge
smile crossed his face—it gave him squinty eyes and everything.

It was honestly the single best thing I had ever seen in my entire life. I felt like my heart wanted to leap out of my chest. I knew instantly that I would do anything to make it last longer, so I boosted up my dance moves, acting like I was completely serious and ready to rage at the disco.

Jacob laughed.

He actually laughed.

He put his hand over his mouth and rocked back on his barstool as he watched me doing my silliest moves—the ones I had perfected over the years on my little sisters. It was possibly the best minute of my life, seeing him smile and laugh as he watched me dance.

Once I was tired and out of breath, I gave a dramatic bow, and Jacob clapped from the other side of the room.

Chapter 15

Jacob clapped for me again when I came into the kitchen. I could feel that my face was flushed, but I just acted like I didn't notice and smiled at him as I bowed again.

"Those were some smoking hot moves," he said, smiling at the memory of me dancing.

The smile was so mesmerizing up close that I jogged across the ten feet of space between us so that I could try to see it even closer. I stopped when I was a couple of feet from him, but he wasn't smiling anymore. He pulled back and looked at me curiously.

"I was hoping to see that smile," I said. He glanced down shyly, but I stopped him by reaching out to take his face in my hands. He looked at me before I could even force him to, and I smiled. "Do it again," I said.

He glanced downward and shook his head shyly as the corners of his mouth turned upward.

There it was again.

I kept my hands on the side of his face as I stared intently at his mouth. "Come here," he said, moving like he was about to get off of his bar stool.

"I
am
here," I said.

"No, I mean come outside with me."

"Sunset?" I asked, since it was that time of day.

He nodded. "It's my favorite."

"Did you see it the other day when it was all purple and pink?" I asked.

He nodded again. "I got some pictures, but it's never as good as just being out there to look at it."

"Let's go," I said.

Jacob whistled for Larry to come with us, and the huge black dog ran onto the porch, leading the way. We were just about to go down the front steps when Jacob reached out to take my hand. The gesture had a
let me help you down the stairs
feel to it but hey, he was holding my hand. I loved the feel of his big, work-hardened hands against mine, and I couldn’t stop myself from holding onto him tightly as we descended the stairs.

I assumed he'd let me go when we made it to the path below, but he didn't. He held onto me like he had no intention of letting me have my hand back. The effects of his touch where breath-taking and gut-clinching. I had to work really hard not to let a smile completely overtake my face as we walked. Larry walked a few feet in front of us like he had no idea and didn't care what we were doing.

"He probably killed her," Jacob said, out of nowhere, causing me to come crashing down off of my Jacob buzz. "He might not have done it himself, but he probably had something to do with it," he continued after a few seconds.

I started to say something, but I decided to be quiet for a second to see if he'd continue. We walked slowly across the yard, heading toward the dock.

"He came to see me the day before his accident. He was crying. He said a bunch of stuff I didn't understand, but somewhere in the mess of tangled words, he said she was dead and that he was sorry for destroying everything. He said I'd be taken care of, but he mumbled that part as he was leaving and didn't give me the chance to ask what he meant. I figured it meant he was gonna do something to hurt himself." Jacob paused and sighed before adding, "I probably could have stopped him."

"You can not blame yourself for any part of what went down with your parents," I said. It was something I had already thought about, and my feelings on the subject hadn't changed—even with this latest piece of information.

We stopped walking just before we reached the dock, and I turned to face him. We were still holding hands, but his grip had loosened considerably as if he was giving me the option of letting go.

"That's pretty messed up," he said, regarding me like I knew it was true.

I shrugged, and then pulled his hand toward my chest, holding it with both of my hands. "Yeah, it's pretty messed up," I said. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

He stood there and watched me holding his hands and staring back at him. I was wearing a sweet smile, and he looked slightly confused about it.

"Doesn't that make things different?" he asked, glancing at my hands holding his as if wondering why I was still holding on.

"Why would it?" I asked.

"Because I'm his son. Aren't you scared of me or something? Do you understand that I just told you I think my dad killed my mom?"

I could tell it hurt him to say those words, but he thought he needed to clarify. I held his hand close to my heart. It was hard for me to hold back the tears as I stared at him. He honestly believed I would feel differently about him, I could see it in his eyes, and it broke my heart.

"I am not scared of you, Jacob."

His eyes roamed over my face as he regarded me sincerely. "I would never hurt you," he promised, looking directly into my eyes with his penetrating baby blues.

"I know," I said, staring back at him.

"I planned for you to leave after I told you that," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him playfully. "You brought me out here to get me to
leave
?" I asked.

He smiled. "Not to
get
you to leave, but yes, I really thought you leaving would be the end result of the conversation. I was prepared for it."

"Well, I guess you'll have to prepare for me staying because I don't really feel like leaving," I said.

A few seconds passed before he spoke again.

"I'm not like him," he promised softly.

"I know," I said. "You're you."

He smiled. "I'm me."

I smiled back. It's crazy for me to admit this, but in spite of the crazy piece of information he had just given me, I felt more than ever like he was the one. He needed me, and I needed him. There was peacefulness in my heart that made me know this was the truth.

"Alex," he said, looking genuinely curious. "Do you think you could seriously be with someone like me?"

"Someone
like
you?" I asked.

He nodded.

"You mean in case some
other
guy comes along who's the son of a TV evangelist? Are you asking if I could be with that guy?"

He nodded, and I shook my head regretfully. "Sorry, but no."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I already have feelings for someone else."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, knowing I was talking about him.

I nodded shyly.

"You're probably too good for that guy," he said.

I shook my head and bit my lip shyly. "I can't believe you brought me out here thinking I'd be leaving," I said (with ulterior motives), "because I thought you were bringing me out here for something totally different." Obviously, I wanted him to ask
what, pray tell, did I think we would be doing
, at which point, I would hint at a kiss.

"You thought we were doing something else out here?" he asked, falling into my trap. He looked toward the end of the dock and pulled me along. We stepped out onto the wooden dock, walking slowly while still holding hands.

"Yes, I did," I said.

"What?" he asked. "Watching the sunset?"

"Well, I certainly didn't think I'd be driving away like you thought I'd be doing."

"Well, it's not because I wanted you to," he said. "I just needed to get that off my chest, and I honestly thought it would make you—"

"It didn't," I said, cutting him off. "All it did was make me feel happy that you trust me."

We took the last few steps to the area at the end of the dock. I almost sat down, but instead I just turned to face him, standing only a foot or so away. His hair was cropped closely on the sides, and I reached up to run my fingers across the area above his ear.

"I didn't think you were just bringing me out here to watch the sunset," I whispered.

"You didn't?" he asked. I could tell by the way he looked at my mouth that he knew exactly what was going on. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him—I could see it in his eyes, in the way he stared at me. I felt honored and overjoyed that I was the one he let in—that I was the one who got to see this side of him.

"No," I said, answering his question, finally.

"What did you think we were gonna do?" he asked, looking again at my mouth.

"Fishin', froggin'…" I shrugged. "Anything would be better than
leaving
."

"I know something that's better than fishing," he said.

"What?" I asked, skeptically.

Jacob reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of my head. Before I knew what was happening, he leaned toward me, and his mouth was on mine. His kiss was soft and swift as his lips touched mine, once, twice, and then three times.

"Alex," he whispered with his mouth close to mine.

"Jacob," I returned, smiling.

He smiled back at me, and I loved the sight of it so much that I popped up onto my toes, kissing him again even though he was still smiling. His smile must have faded, because his mouth became supple, molding to mine as he held me close to him with his hand on the back of my head. He ran his tongue along my lip, urging me to open to him, which I did willingly. He let his tongue dip inside my mouth as soon as I opened it, and the overwhelming wave of desire caused me to let out a whimper at the back of my throat.

This encouraged him, and he kissed me even more deeply in an almost territorial way. I gave myself over to him fully, wanting to kiss him in whatever way he needed. After a few more seconds of that glorious feeling of connection, Jacob pulled back. He kept his hand firmly on the back of my head, his fingers comfortably intertwined in my hair, but he pulled his face back far enough to stare down at me.

"I did not expect you," he said, sincerely.

I smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. "I didn't expect you, either."

"We have to take it slow," he said, almost as if saying it to himself.

"We will," I said. "Some of what makes me feel right about this is feeling like God put us together. I feel like He's part of it."

Jacob pulled back, regarding me with a somewhat skeptical expression at the fact that I was bringing God into it at all. He sighed. "So is this thing contingent on God or something?" he asked.

"I don’t know," I said. "He's important to me, and it would make me sad to think…" I hesitated. "I don't know what I'm saying. I don't even know why I said that right then." I gave him a little smile. "I really liked what happened just now."

"Okay, because I don't think that had anything to do with God."

Oddly enough, his statement didn't scare or discourage me. I kept my hand cupped around his cheek when I said, "You're on the exact path God chose for you, Jacob. He knew what your parents would choose, how it would affect you, and that it would lead you here. I'm not worried about how you feel about God right now because I know how He feels about you."

He stared at me as if he was taking in everything I was saying—like he knew the things I said were true, and I was only affirming them.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked, finally.

"One mile down that way," I said, smiling at him as I pointed to my right.

He let out a long sigh, taking a deep breath in before letting it out deliberately. "We're gonna have to take it really slowly," he said like he didn't quite believe in himself.

"I'm not trying to make you marry me and become a preacher," I said.

He let out a humorless laugh. "Good because that's not gonna happen." I knew he was referring to the preacher part, but it still hurt to hear him respond that way since marrying me had been part of the statement.

"I'm fine with taking it slow," I said even though I had no idea what that meant.

He hesitated before saying, "You can't be over here everyday like this."

"I haven't been over here everyday," I said, feeling slightly offended. "I didn't see you at all yesterday." I added, "I was in New Orleans all day," so that he'd know I had other things going on.

"I mean this," he said, rubbing my head, and squeezing me to demonstrate our proximity. "It's too much."

I stepped back causing us to break contact. His arms fell to his sides as he looked at me. "Then, we'll just take a step back," I said, knowing it was right, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. "We'll try not to get too close too fast, how about that?" I said, in my best easy-going tone.

"I could just tell you to leave again like I do every other time I feel like this." He paused. "What if I did?" he asked, tilting his head. "If I told you to leave, would you forgive me again, or would that be my last chance?"

I stared at him for several seconds before I smiled sincerely and answered, "I'd forgive you."