Snow on the Bayou: A Tante Lulu Adventure (19 page)

Emelie choked on her own tea. “Uh.” Did she really
ask that in front of Miss MaeMae? The woman was outrageous.

“I dint mean lovemakin’, honey. Golly gee, yer gonna sunburn from that blush. No, I meant
love
love,” Tante Lulu elaborated.

Oh, well, that was different. Not!
“I’m not sure I ever experienced
love
love.” Yes, she’d been in love with Justin when they were teenagers, but in retrospect that was probably just puppy love. Infatuation. If they’d stayed together, it would have faded away long ago. Maybe. Probably.

“Remember when I was in love with Phillipe,” Tante Lulu said to Miss MaeMae. Then she explained to Emelie, “I was engaged ta marry Mary Mae’s brother Phillipe Prudhomme before he went off ta war. Now, that was
love
love.” She sighed deeply. “I thought about him day and night. And tingles, ah, that boy could make me get the tingles jist by lookin’ at me. If he winked at me, and whoo-boy, Phillipe had a good wink, or if he touched mah shoulder in passin’, or if he kissed me kinda deep and hard, or if he pinched mah butt… I was tinglin’ all over ’til I was practically screamin’ with passion. Tingles, that’s one of the big signs of
love
love.”

Emelie and Miss MaeMae were both staring at Tante Lulu, slack-jawed.

“No tingles in my life at the moment, I’m afraid,” Emelie choked out.

“Well, not to worry, hon,” Tante Lulu said, patting Emelie on the hand. “Jist so ya doan go tryin’ ta get yer tingles from one of them vibrator thingees. Charmaine says all the ladies use ’em t’day, that they doan need no man, but seems ta me yer va-jay-jay would get all tingled out in the wrong way. Dontcha think?”

“Uh. Yes. Sure.”

“Tingles come when ya least expect them, girl.”

I can’t wait.

“Yer tingles are sure ta come soon. By the way, I brought ya another little present.”

Oh, God! Please don’t let it be a vibrator.
“Really, you’ve given me too much already.”

But Tante Lulu was already standing, watching expectantly for something. The old lady jumped from one subject to another so quickly that Emelie’s brain raced, trying to keep up. A hope chest,
love
love, tingles, vibrators, and now
another
gift?

“Rachel and Sylvie and Charmaine are bringing it in from the car. There they are now.”

Carrying a big marble statue around the side through the porte cochere, the three women set it down next to her fountain, and let out a communal whoosh of relief at its weight.

“Ain’t he cute?” Tante Lulu asked Emelie.

“Uh,” she said.

“Ya cain’t live within a hundred miles of Tante Lulu and not have at least one St. Jude statue,” Charmaine explained with a wink.

Oh, so that was what it was. There was a big smudge mark over one side of the face that had distorted the image. It might have been bird poop.

“St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless cases,” Tante Lulu said.

As if Emelie didn’t already know that, having been raised a Catholic! But she wasn’t about to offend the old lady. Instead, she said, “Thank you so much. How did you know I was feeling hopeless?”

“We’s all hopeless one time or another.”

Her visitors stayed for only an hour, having a
reservation for 1 p.m. at Antoine’s. Emelie declined to join them, as did Belle, since they both had too much work to do. Plus, Belle had several in-home costume fittings later that afternoon.

After they left, Emelie said to Belle, “That was unexpected, but kind of nice.”

“I agree. That Tante Lulu is a piece of work, though, isn’t she?’

“Oh my God! Those zebra stripes and red wedgies!” Emelie laughed. “I can only imagine what a character she would have been when she was young.”

“Wild, for sure,” Belle agreed.

“Miss MaeMae didn’t look good at all, did she?”

Belle shook her head sadly. “I see a difference just since the cleanup party last week.”

“Maybe it’s not the cancer. Maybe she was just overtired today.”

“Maybe,” Belle said, but there was doubt in her voice.

Late in the afternoon, Belle had gone out and Emelie was working on final touches to several masks when she heard the shop bell ring. Before she had a chance to get up and go wait on a customer, Justin walked back.

“Hey, babe!” he said and gave her a smile that was as warm as a kiss. Maybe not. Because he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and it was hot. No warm about it.

“I’m a mess,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone today.”

“You look fine to me.”

Yeah, right. If I was modeling workout apparel. Even then…

“The fleece top would be better if you turned it inside out, assuming you’re not wearing a bra. And then the least
little movement would brush over… well, you get the idea.”

She must have been gaping because he winked at her.

“Remember the time I put that ridged condom on inside out? We were so dumb, we thought that was the way it was supposed to be. But whoo-boy, what a ride that was!”

Having succeeded in planting that image in her mind, he leaned back against the wide, built-in shelf that lined one wall, midway up, like a counter, ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest. He wore a Saints baseball cap, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, jeans, and athletic shoes. A designer stubble gave his face a rakish look. Even with the cap, she could see that the stubble on his head was growing in from its military cut, and it, too, was also a bit rakish.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I missed you.” There was a world of promise in those simple words. “Thought you might be lonely.”

“Hard to be lonely with all the traffic through here today.” She glanced pointedly at the hope chest off to one side adorned with angels gamboling along a bayou stream. It was really rather pretty.

He laughed. “Tell me about it. I got hit with mine at seven a.m.”

“Tante Lulu told me yours has birds. Wanna exchange birds for cupids?”

“Nah. I’m fine. I’ve already got a crocheted bedspread in mine. How about yours?”

“Doilies.”

He shook his head at the uselessness of such a gift. “That Tante Lulu is a pure one hundred proof dingbat.”

“She really does mean well, though.”

“I s’pose so,” he conceded. “How was my grandmother?”

She didn’t want to alarm him. “Okay. A little tired, I think, but she seemed to be enjoying herself.”

“I should probably be offerin’ ta take her more places.”

He probably should, while she was still able, Emelie thought, but she didn’t say that. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A cold drink?”

He shook his head and continued to stare at her.

“What?”

“Wanna fool around?”

She laughed. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Darlin’, do you really want me ta say what I’m thinkin’?”

She frowned. When she realized that he was referring to a play on the word “bush,” she blushed. “You’re certainly in a good mood.”

“Uh-huh,” he said and beckoned with both hands for her to come over to him. The intent in his mischievous eyes was clear.

“You can’t be serious. It’s daytime.”

“So? A little afternoon delight.”

“Someone could walk in the shop.”

“I locked the door and hung the
CLOSED
sign.”

“You didn’t!”

“Yeah, I did.”

“That was kind of confident of you, wasn’t it?”

“Wanna come over here and punish me fer bein’ so… confident?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Jeesh! I hate when he does that eyebrow thing. It makes me all melty inside. Or am I tingling? No, definitely
no tingling.
“Punish? Are you into those kinds of games?”

“I can be if you want me to.”

That sounded kind of alarming. And no, she was not tingling. Yet. “I’d rather play the cowboy/guitar game.”

“We’ll have ta save that for another time, sweetie. I didn’t bring the gear today.”

She propped an elbow on the table in front of her, and braced her chin on a cupped hand. “What do you want, Justin?”

“You. Any way I can have you,” he said. “Just you.”

Tingle, tingle, tingle!
“Oh, man! You do know how to rock a girl’s heart!”
And tingle her.

“I aim ta please.” He smiled, slow and lazy at first, as she stood tentatively. Then when she walked into his embrace, he let out a whoop of joy. Lifting her off her feet with his arms around her waist, he swung around several times for the sheer pleasure of holding her.

And she held on tight, her face buried in the curve of his neck, gritting her teeth to prevent herself from blurting out something foolish, like, “I love you.” Or, “Are you tingling, too?”

“Baby, I wanna pick you up, carry you upstairs, and make sweet love to you, but I don’t think my knee could take it.” He still held her with her feet off the ground so that she was looking down at him.

His demeanor was so doleful at his physical weakness that she felt sorry for him and suggested, “We could always walk together upstairs.”

Even more doleful, he said, “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“Is that a fact?” She wriggled herself against him so
that her thigh rubbed against a strategic spot on his body. To set it tingling, she hoped.

“Irrefutable,” he gasped out. “I’m in pain, sweetheart.”

Pain, tingles, same thing.

“Only you have the cure.”

She laughed. “That sounds like something you would have said in the backseat of Priscilla. Are you playing me?”

“A little bit,” he admitted with the sideways grin she’d once loved so well. “Oops.”

Somehow he’d walked them across the room and he’d just banged her against the wall. Before she could blink, he had his hands inside the back of her sweatpants and both her panties and sweats down at her ankles. He was unzipping his jeans, under which he was commando, surprise, surprise, and putting on a condom so quick she had to say, “You’ve got that down to an art form.”

“Honey, if I can break down, clean, and put back together an AK-47 in three minutes flat, getting prepped for sex is a piece of cake. This is gonna be tricky, though.” He yanked off one of her sneakers and pulled off one leg of the sweatpants and half her panties to dangle from the other leg. Raising the one bare leg by the knee and off to the side, he was in her, to the hilt. The whole thing had happened in less than a minute.

She blinked at him in shock.

“Sorry,” he said. “I told ya I couldn’t wait.”

“I thought you meant that you couldn’t wait for a half hour, or until we got upstairs.”

“Oh, damn! You’re not ready.” He started to pull out. “I’m sorry.”

She grabbed him by the butt and yanked him back. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He was the one blinking in shock now.

What followed next wasn’t short and sweet. It was short and hot, hot, hot. No gentle wooing words. No soft caresses. No buildup of passion.

It was bang, bang, bang, her bottom hitting against the wall, his pubic bone hitting her clitoris, his erection hitting a spot it had never hit before. They both exploded in a bone-melting orgasm that had him sinking to the floor afterward, sitting on his bare ass, her half on and half off his lap.

They burst out laughing then as they tried to disentangle themselves.

“I couldn’t replicate that if I tried,” he said.

All she could say was, “Wow!”

They were both sitting on the floor, bare-assed.

It was only then that she heard, “Woof!”

“Did you just say ‘woof’?”

“Huh?”

Another “Woof!” It was coming from outside.

“Oh, crap! I totally forgot.” Justin jumped to his feet, made quick work of disposing the condom, then shuffled from foot to foot as he tried to pull up his jeans.

“What? What’s going on?”

He gave her a sheepish look then. “I brought you a present, and I forgot to bring it in.”

“More presents? First roses, then a hope chest, then a St. Jude statue. This better be good.”

“Oh, it is. It definitely is.” He went out to the back courtyard.

She had pulled on her panties and sweatpants and was bent over tying her sneakers when she heard a “Woof!” again, just before being knocked over onto her back and a big beast of a dog was licking every surface it could reach
with a goofy look of ecstasy on its face. His mismatched blue and brown eyes were practically crossed at each other in delight.

She glanced up to see Justin peering down at them.

“You didn’t!”

“I did. See how much Thad missed you. And he was very well behaved all this time out in your courtyard. He didn’t even pee on that statue with the bird shit birthmark on its face, until you started screamin’ your orgasm. Good dog! He thought you needed help.” Justin batted his eyelashes at her. Thad did, too.

“I did not scream.”

“Okay. Groaned real loud.”

“Maybe that was you.”

“Probably.”

“You’re being way too agreeable.”

“Hey, I just got laid. Of course I’m being agreeable.”

“I’m not keeping him.”

He helped her to her feet and kissed her softly.

“I’m not keeping him.”

Justin found a bowl to fill with water for the dog. As she gazed down at the dog, who kept giving her soulful, pleading looks between slurps, she said, “I’m not keeping him.”

Then, having worn himself out woofing and drinking three bowls of water, the dog that could be a horse splatted himself out, paws spread to four corners like a giant rug, and fell asleep.

“I’m not keeping him,” she said, but with less conviction.

“I have an idea,” Justin said then. “Wanna fool around?”

“I thought we already did that.”

“Just an appetizer,
cherè
. Just an appetizer.”

“I can’t imagine what… hey, what are you doing with those feathers? Be careful. They’re for my masks.”

He twirled one long-plumed feather in his hand and blew on it. The silky threads fluttered like the tendrils of moss on a live oak tree during a bayou wind. “You don’t have to imagine, sweetheart. I’ve got imagination enough for both of us.”

And he did!