Paradise for a Sinner (2 page)

Joe, hands behind his head, asked again, “Why me?”

Nell brushed back the dark curl that always escaped onto his forehead and replaced it with a light kiss. “Because she heard about your work with crippled children at Camp Love Letter. She knows we have a bunch of children, some of them adopted, and we have the means to give Teddy a good life. He’ll need more surgeries as he grows and special care.”

“But she lied about me.”

“For heaven’s sake, we’ll do the DNA test and clear your good name!” Not so gentle now, Nell punched his arm. “Until then, he needs a home and people who can take care of him. We were cleared for foster care when Xochi came to us. I’ve already spoken to the child welfare people. They will send someone over to check out the situation and put the process in motion. Nurse Wickersham is available to help with his bodily needs as soon as her current job ends. She is caring for a terminally ill patient at the moment and says he doesn’t have long.”

Her physical punches packed no wallop, not to a guy who sometimes got taken down by three-hundred pound linebackers, but Nell’s emotional blows were always weighty. Joe considered. He rarely waffled about decisions on field or off.

“Okay, we’ll keep him.”

“Temporarily of course. His mother will have a change of heart, I’m sure. You aren’t concerned about having a special needs child in the house?’

“Nope. The kids that come to Camp Love Letter helped me get over whatever hang-ups I had about diseases and such years ago.”

“You aren’t bothered that I set this up without asking you first?”

“Did I ask you when I brought home Xochi and a dog that just kept getting bigger? This only makes us even.”

“Joe Dean Billodeaux, I love you.”

This time her hand reached for his zipper, but she stopped and wrinkled her nose. “You reek of horse.”

“Just noticing now?”

“Yes. The bedspread will have to be washed.”

“Later, Tink. Can you spare ten minutes? I need to shower.”

“Sure.” She started to rise. He pulled her back by the loose waistband of her gray yoga pants, so much easier to get into than tight jeans.

“With you. A quickie, I promise.”

“You deserve more, but we cannot linger. Promise?”

“Absolutely. Don’t worry. Adam will watch Teddy. He told me once he used to take care of the little children in his village when he was a boy. He’ll keep the kid occupied.”

“Any idea why Adam is here and not in Samoa? He drove up behind me as I was opening the gate, followed me to the house, and helped me with the wheelchair. Only said he wanted to talk to you.”

“Could we not think about Adam now?”

Joe untied the string of the yoga pants and nearly upended her peeling them off. No panties beneath. She had been waiting for him after all. He stripped off her hot pink sports bra and released those suppressed breasts into his hands. They would never be huge, but motherhood had made them larger, softer, so nice to squeeze gently and stroke lightly. He almost forgot they were on short time until Nell said, “To the shower.”

He carried his wife into the bathroom and sat her on the closed lid of the commode while he stripped down and adjusted the water. The shower in the gym might have been better with its many sprays and nozzles, but this would have to do for now. Water thundered from the showerhead into the vast two-person tub with the view of the bayou. He ripped the curtain closed and in his haste, bumped his head on the dangling crystals of the chandelier that provided light over the basin.

Joe beckoned to his naked wife. “Let’s get the horse smell off me first, then on to the good stuff.”

Nell obliged by soaping his back, but then she got frisky, running her hand between his legs, massaging the root of his cock and giving his balls a very thorough washing. When he turned around, Joe had to stop her fingers from slicking along a very urgent erection. “I won’t last if you do that, sugar.”

One nice thing about standing six-foot-three and having a pint-sized wife was the easy lifting. He raised her on his hips and braced her against the tiled wall away from the spray of the water. As he entered her deep, Nell wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his broad shoulders. Holding back as best he could, Joe ran a slippery finger into her cleft repeatedly until she began to arch and push back. He drove hard for the goal line. Score!—and an extra point for making Nell come, too. No one, not even the many women from his man whore days, could say Joe Dean Billodeaux failed in being a generous lover.

Nell slid down the wall and rested her head on his still soapy chest. “Wobbly,” she said. “I think I was as ready for that as you were. And I’m sorry we won’t be alone today. Rinse. We have to take care of a few problems downstairs.”

She already had her clothes on by the time he dried off and pulled on clean garments, the hell with shaving. Nell put on a pink and white checked shirt over the sports bra and tied it at the waist. Sure, she’d had a nip and a tummy tuck after giving birth to the triplets, but she worked hard in the gym to keep her waist slim and sexy. Joe appreciated that. Running after all those children kept her trim, too, he guessed.

As Nell drew a comb through her short, practical hair, the doorbell sounded its mellow chimes. Macho, their oversized ranch dog, began barking in a mean basso that only fooled strangers. Quickly, she glossed her mouth with a little pink lipstick. No time for makeup. Shoving her feet into flip-flops, she headed to the bedroom door.

Joe stopped her. “Nell, I just had a frisson, me.”

“No time for the cute Cajun routine, Joe. Someone let Macho in, and he’ll scare Teddy to death, not to mention whoever is at the front door.”

“We should stay in bed like we planned and not go down there. I got this bad feeling it’s going to be another one of
those
off-seasons, the kind with bad problems we have to fix.”

“Are you telling me the great Joe Dean Billodeaux is afraid to face an off-season?” Nell raised her eyebrows at him.

“No way. Okay, we move on the count of three.” They went through the doorway together.

Chapter Two

From the top of the stairs, Joe and Nell gazed down on chaos. Macho, huge, yellow-furred, curly-tailed, black-muzzled, and white-pawed, dragged Teddy’s red wheelchair back and forth across the shining burgundy tiles before the front door. The boy, strapped into his chair, had a tight grip on the dog’s wide leather collar and a large smile on his small face. The mutt stopped barking and paused to snuffle along the sill. The bell rang again setting off more furious woofing and pacing. The people on the other end of the onslaught had no way of knowing Macho would embrace them, paws on their shoulders, and slurp their faces once he got loose.

“Teddy, let go of the dog’s collar!” Nell cried. “He’ll tip you over. How did Macho get in here?” Fearlessly entering the maelstrom, she headed rapidly down the stairs. The toe of her flip-flop caught the edge of the runner, but Joe grabbed her elbow before she tumbled.

Adam’s broad face looked up apologetically. “My bad, Mrs. Joe. He was scratching the H out of your kitchen door so I let him inside. He went right over to the kid to get his ears rubbed. No problem. They were getting along great. Then the bell rang, and they both took off. Want me to kick the mutt out?”

“Just put him in the kitchen and close the door for now.”

“Aaah, we was having fun,” Teddy said as Adam wrested the collar from his grip and attempted to drag the dog to the kitchen. Macho dug in his rear paws. His claws scraped the waxy surface of the tiles. Finally, the cornerback grasped the canine under the forelegs, pressed him to his broad chest, and walked the dog to the other room to be confined. The barks turned to pleading whimpers.

“That’s better,” Nell said. “This can’t be the Rev or Mintay. Macho recognizes them. Besides, they are dealing with their own situation this morning. Knowing them, they’d come to help anyway.” Nell placed her hand on the deadbolt to open the door.

“Wait.” Joe peered out a curtained sidelight. “Airport limo. How did it get up the drive?”

“Sorry,” Adam said, this time hanging his head and showing them the part in his outrageous mane of frizzy, black curls that extended well below his shoulders. “The guy said their need to see you was most urgent, his exact words. I buzzed them in since you were—um, busy upstairs. I mean we all know how you like to spend the first day of your off-season. I shouldn’t have come.”

Nell looked at her husband with astonishment and measured her words carefully in front of Teddy. “You told the team what we do to celebrate the off-season?”

“Might have slipped out,” Joe admitted and stepped out of the range of her fist. “Let me get the door in case it’s some new paparazzi trick.”

The bell chimed again almost apologetically. “Please, sir, call off your hounds and allow us to enter. I have grave news to relate,” a very proper British voice implored on the other side of the heavy, dark oak door.

“He thinks our mixed breed Texas cur is hounds,” Joe snickered. He raised his voice and asked, “What do you want here?”

A tall, long-faced form with an impressively large nose placed itself before the sidelight. His hands rested on the shoulders of a beautiful female child. Nell took a peek.

“Good Lord, I think that’s my niece. At least, she looks like the picture on the Christmas card Emily sent last year. Open the door.”

Joe did. The odd pair entered. Nell held out her hands immediately in greeting. “I know you must be Anastasia. That would make you Prince Stefan. Where is my sister?”

“No, madam, I am not the prince. So sorry to confuse you. This, however, is the Princess Anastasia Marya Polasky, his daughter. I am Clive Brinsley. I served the prince as both valet and butler.”

“So happy to have you both here. I’ve asked Emily to send Anastasia to visit her cousins often, but I wish she had let us know you were coming. We would have met you at the airport.”

The child declined to step into Nell’s embrace. Instead she stared at her aunt with blue eyes like Teddy’s, but hers were narrowed, sharp and bright as broken bottle glass. A pert nose and pouty lips made up the rest of her face. Dark blonde curls held back by a pink ribbon cascaded around her thin shoulders and down her back nearly to her waist. She wore a pair of tan suede boots with fringe around the top, pink leggings, and a short pink and white polka-dotted dress belted low on her childish hips. The twins would be envious of the clothes their cousin sported, hipshot like a model poised at the end of a runway.

“What a pretty outfit,” Nell said. Still trying to lure the child closer for some affection, she stepped toward her. The girl put her off with a remark.

“Mommy said you didn’t know how to dress. I can see that is true.” Anastasia eyed the yoga pants and flip-flops.

Behind Nell, Adam Malala sucked in his breath and issued a rebuke. “You do not talk to your elders that way.”

“Golly, yes. That woulda got my mouth washed out with soap or a pretty good slap from Newt,” Teddy chimed in.

“Is this one of my cousins? Mommy said they were backwater Cajun hicks with a rich daddy who got lucky playing American football.”

Nell reined in her outrage for her children. A cruel statement like that defined Emily’s personality. No matter that her sister had put the moves on Joe more than once and would gladly have married him or anyone else on the Sinners team. Joe placed his hands on her shoulders and both looked out at the limo where the driver unloaded a pyramid of pink luggage with a tan leather trim and one large, black suitcase. A small curly heap of a dog pressed its nose to the door of its carrier on top of the baggage and yapped in sharp, little barks.

Joe’s fingers dug into Nell’s flesh. “Compared to a smart-mouthed brat like you, my kids are angels. Since we’re so
basse classe,
why don’t the two of you get back in the limo and return to Italy and mommy dearest right now. I’ll pay your way with some of my lucky money.”

The butler’s long, serious face became grim as his thin lips turned downward. “Please, sir, allow me to address the situation.” He bent over Anastasia. “Princess, a cultured person does not repeat what they have overheard, especially if hurtful and rude. I cannot remain in the service of one who does.”

Instantly, the superior blue eyes released a waterfall of tears that cascaded down the dimpled cheeks and onto the dress to mingle with the polka dots. Anastasia buried her face in the dark pants leg of the servant and cried as if her world had come to an end.

Joe shifted with discomfort. Nell knew he had a weakness for crying children. Heaven knew his own daughters tried that ploy often enough, but the girl’s emotion seemed genuine.

“I didn’t mean to make her cry,” Joe said. “You are welcome to visit, but no more mouth about your cousins or Aunt Nell, you hear.”

“Perhaps, the princess could take Titi from her crate and give her some water and a short walk while we talk,” Clive Brinsley said. “Go along, Anastasia. Get her lead and let her out. Think of something other than yourself.”

Anastasia accepted a clean handkerchief from her butler and patted her face dry. She turned to the mound of luggage. Teddy wheeled up beside her. “I can help you.”

“What could you possibly do?” The girl, a trifle older, looked down on him.

“Lots of things. I can already read Harry Potter. We could tie her leash to my chair and just roll along together—if someone will help me down the front steps.”

Adam simply lifted the chair and the boy and set them on the ground, only two easy steps for him, one from the doorway and one off the verandah, but impossible for Teddy. “Thank you, sir,” he said politely.

“You’re a good kid, Teddy,” Adam replied gruffly, implying by his expression that the other child was not.

The girl took a leash, a plastic dish and a water bottle from a carry-on bag and opened the little dog’s crate. The animal bounded into her arms and lavished affection with a small pink tongue, wiping away the remnants of the salty tears.

“Can I hold her while you pour the water? I’m a good holder.”

“I guess so.” Anastasia placed the pup into his lap where Titi gave him an identical welcome.