Angels of Bourbon Street (14 page)

I stopped and gazed up at him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

His chocolate-brown eyes turned molten with emotion. “It’s no less than you’d do for me. And if your deadbeat dad can’t be bothered, I’ll personally hunt him down and set him straight.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “You’re too good to me.”

“Don’t you forget it.” He leaned down and brushed his firm, warm lips over mine.

I placed my hands on his broad chest. “I love you.”

“I know.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled down at me.

“We’re going to get through this with both our souls intact. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I won’t have it any other way.” Because the alternative was unthinkable. I wouldn’t take his soul anymore than he’d take mine.

“Me neither.” He bent down, his lips gently brushing over mine again. He hesitated for just a moment, but when I gently clasped my teeth over his lower lip, his tongue darted, tasting me. I opened to him, and our tongues met, tangling in a slow waltz.

I pressed against his lean frame, wanting to feel every inch of him. It had only been a few days since we’d been together, but after the recent events, it seemed like weeks. Running my fingers up his arms, I stopped when his broad shoulders filled my hands. He was tall, lean, and powerful in his own way, beautiful and all mine, forcing that exquisite ache of desire deep in my center. Strength exuded from him, demanded to possess me with his gentle yet commanding kiss.

I nibbled, biting the corner of his mouth as he turned to trace kisses along my jawline. His sure lips possessed my neck, sucking and teasing until I swayed and my knees weakened. The things he did to me… It was a wonder I didn’t combust right there in his arms.

“Jade,” he whispered, “I want you.”

My breath caught. Goddess, I wanted him too. Wanted to rip his clothes off, make him mine right there in the living room. Feel his touch on my stomach, my thighs as he pulled me to him, as he entered me, claiming me as his, again and again.

“Jade, honey?”

“Shit,” I mumbled, reality crashing back down on me.

Kane smiled, his lips still pressed to mine. His tongue darted into my mouth for one last tantalizing taste of his coffee flavor. Then he pulled back, holding me at arms’ length with his hands still on my hips.

“Oh!” Mom yelped as she stepped into the room and pivoted to walk back out. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Kane laughed.

“Stop it.” I swatted his chest and giggled as my face heated. “Mom, nothing’s going on. Come back.”

“Um, honey, why don’t you join me in the kitchen?” she called. “I cut up strawberries.”

Kane’s eyebrows rose. “I bet she made homemade whipped cream too.”

“Probably.” Tingles slid through me as I recalled the last time we’d had whipped cream in the house. Yanking him to me, I crushed my lips to his, pouring my heart into the kiss and running my hands through his hair until I had to pull back to take a breath. Winded, I took just a moment to refill my lungs. Then I smiled sweetly. “Consider yourself lucky. No one has ever ranked above homemade whipped cream before.”

I left him leaning against the living room wall, his body taut and eyes brimming with desire. Glancing over my shoulder, I whispered, “I’m sending Mom and Gwen to my apartment since Meri’s here. I’ll meet you in our room in one hour.”

“That had better be a promise,” he replied, his voice husky.

I gave him a slow nod and forced my feet to keep moving forward. I’d give almost anything to fall into his arms and block out the rest of the world right then and there. And Kane as a distraction would do just that. For as long as I needed.

Liquid heat sent sparks of desire everywhere, and I had to stop in the hall restroom to splash water on my face. I could not have a conversation with my mother until I cooled off. She’d already walked in on us groping at each other like horny teenagers. That was bad enough.

“Hey.” I scooted into the kitchen. “What’s up?” I glanced around and found Mom at the table with a bowl of berries, whipped cream, and a crock pot of melted chocolate. “Looks like you went all out.”

Mom shrugged and lifted her hands in a vague gesture. “I wanted to do something nice after the awful day you had.”

Gwen pulled the full coffee pot from the counter, gesturing to a mug. “Coffee?”

I’d already had a few cups at Bea’s, but if I was going to gorge on Mom’s offerings, I’d need it. I nodded and headed to the refrigerator, nervous energy pulsing through my body. Mom and I never talked about Dad. What would she say when I asked about him?

Mom stood. “What do you need, Jade? I’ll get it. You just sit.”

I waved an impatient hand. “I’ve got it, Mom. You’ve worked hard enough.”

Gwen passed me a cup only three quarters of the way full. I smiled. She knew exactly what I wanted. After a quick search behind the orange juice and milk, I pulled out the bottle of Irish cream. Without asking, I added a shot to Gwen’s mug and took the chilled bottle to the table. I lifted it in offering. “Mom?”

She glanced at Gwen and then back at me. “I’d better not.”

I raised an eyebrow in question, but Mom shook her head. “Okay, then.” I set the bottle on the countertop. “I’ll leave it out if you change your mind.” She might need it after she heard what I had to say.

Mom dished up generous helpings of strawberries and whipped cream, while Gwen and I settled into our chairs.

“Bea knows how to fix my soul,” I blurted.

Startled, Mom dropped a dollop of whipped cream on the table. “Oh, shoot.” She grabbed a paper towel and went to work on the mess as if it were a red wine stain on white carpet instead of some cream on plain wood.

“Mom.” I placed a hand over hers, stopping her from smearing the cream all over the table. “It’s fine. I’ll get it later.”

She pursed her lips at the film still stuck to the table but dropped the napkin and looked at me. “How can she fix it?”

“We need to call Dad.”

Chapter 12

Mom didn’t even flinch. She just stared at me, her mouth agape.

Gwen glanced between us then stood. “I’ll give you some privacy.” She brushed a reassuring hand over my shoulder as she retreated to the living room.

I propped my elbows on the table and rested my chin in my hands, prepared to wait Mom out.

After a few beats, she closed her mouth and swallowed. “You know that’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” Her tone was hard with an impatient edge to it.

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. The one that was picking at Kane’s linen placemat. “No, Mom, I don’t know why. We haven’t talked about Dad since the last time he failed to show up for his visitation.”

“Yeah!” Her eyes were wide open now, blazing with anger. “Seventeen years ago, he abandoned you. We never heard from him again.” She sucked in a breath. “You didn’t…I mean, he didn’t get in touch while I was…gone?”

Gone. That was one way of putting it. Mom spent twelve years in purgatory after being kidnapped by a demon. It would have been nice if Dad had shown up to check on me when she’d disappeared, but that never happened. The state hadn’t been able to find him at his last known address.

“No, he didn’t get in touch, and I didn’t know how to find him. But we have to now. It’s important.”

She pushed her dessert away and shook her head, her mouth clamped shut in that tight line again.

I suppressed a frustrated sigh. If she didn’t cooperate, my entire existence was on the line. “You haven’t even asked me why we need him.”

“It doesn’t matter. No one knows where he is, and even if we did, he’d be useless. His
work
was always more important than we were.”

She must’ve been thinking that he’d run out on her, too, left her alone to raise a child on a healer’s self-employed income. No child support. Nothing. He’d hurt her so much, she’d shut men out of our lives completely. I’d never even seen her date after that.

I took a long sip of the spiked coffee, grateful for the soothing burn sliding into my belly. Then I softened my tone. “If we had a choice, I wouldn’t ask you to do this. But if we don’t find him, I could end up permanently possessed—or worse, stuck to Meri’s side for the rest of my life.”

“Good God, don’t let that happen,” Meri said from behind me, horror in her husky tone. “I’ll track the bastard down myself if you want. I knew him once, too.”

“Meri!” Mom scolded.

“Sorry, Hope.” The angel took a seat next to Mom and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But if it makes you feel better, I know a few ass-kicking spells that don’t leave any marks.”

Mom let out a surprised huff of laughter and leaned back to take a look at her longtime friend. “You’d do it, too.”

Meri grinned. “With the way he left you two? It would be my pleasure.”

I glanced behind her. “Did Dan leave?”

She nodded and as Mom and Meri chattered about ways to enact revenge on my father, old memories of him surfaced. A tall, sandy-haired man with a quirky half-smile played like a film reel in my mind. That was one of the few images that had stayed with me through all the years.

I stood at the edge of a creek, holding on tight to a sapling fishing pole while he baited the hook, his eyes twinkling in the morning sun. Clear, kind, blue eyes. That was my most vivid memory. I was eight years old, and Dad was teaching me to fish. The next time he’d come around, I was ten. I’d been engrossed in some cartoon and barely noticed when Mom went to answer the door. Five minutes later, she came back into the room, holding an envelope, her face pinched in anger as if I’d ignored her request to clean my room one too many times.

“Sorry! I’m going.” I jumped up and skirted toward the hall.” It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Huh?” Mom sat on our shabby faded blue couch and glanced at me with confused eyes. “What will only take a few minutes?”

I paused. That fear of getting in trouble vanished at the odd look on her face. She wasn’t angry at all. She was acting different, though, and for some reason, her emotions were closed to me.

“Jade?”

I shuffled back into the room and stood in front of her, not sure what to think of her quiet, unnatural tone.

“Come sit with me.” She held out her arm, coaxing me over.

Snuggling next to her, I placed my head on her shoulder as she caressed my hair. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. I just wanted to hold my baby for a minute.” She breathed deeply, her chest rising against my cheek.

I stared out the front window, and after a moment, I noticed a man leaning against a green truck, his head bowed. Then, almost as if he felt my gaze on him, he turned and raised his gaze to mine. Dad. My heart did a funny flip-flop in my chest because I hadn’t seen him in so long. Why was he waiting outside?

Despite the distance, I knew he was troubled. Maybe it was the way he was slightly hunched or maybe the fact that he wasn’t smiling. I couldn’t remember a time he’d looked at me and not smiled in greeting. Just as I was about to pull away from Mom to run outside, he gave me a jerky wave and climbed in his truck.

“Dad!” I cried and ran to the window. The tires squealed as a puff of smoke spewed behind the retreating truck. I spun back to my mother, hands on my hips. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I sucked in a gasp, my chest aching. “What did you say to him? Why’d he leave?”

The next thing I knew, Mom jumped from the couch and engulfed me in her arms, holding me. “I don’t know, sweetie.” She pulled me down into a nearby chair and rocked me as we both cried.

“He’s never coming back,” I said. “Is he?”

Mom shook her head, silent tears flowing from her jade green eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Why?” I asked over and over, not accepting that she didn’t have the answer. I hadn’t seen him in two years. He hadn’t even called or sent a card. And somehow my ten-year-old self knew he was gone for good.

I didn’t know how long Mom and I stayed locked together in that chair. I could only remember her tugging me off to my bed much later and tucking me in. “Tomorrow, we’ll plant a birch tree.”

Clutching a stuffed dog, I stared up at her.

“The birch symbolizes a new beginning. We’ll have ours, just you and me, shortcake.”

I smiled. “Will there be strawberries and whipped cream after we’re done?”

She laughed and cupped her palm to my cheek. “Of course. And melted chocolate, too. Now get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

Just as I’d suspected, I never saw or heard from my father again. And after the birch tree was planted, we never spoke of him, either. Looking back, I was pretty sure my empath ability was picking up on whatever Mom must have known but not told me. She’d known without a doubt Dad was leaving for good, but she’d never told me why.

Now she’d have to tell me.

“Mom, I think you need to tell me what was in that letter.”

She frowned. “What letter?”

Pain sluiced through me from the unwelcome memory. How could a father walk out on his kid? I’d never understood it. My fingers flexed, wanting to smash something. He’d walked out on me not once, but twice, and hadn’t bothered to say goodbye either time. Angry tears burned the back of my eyes. I forced them back and took a deep breath, afraid I’d snap if I didn’t get control of my rampant emotions. “The one Dad gave you the day before we planted the birch tree.”

Mom’s face went white, and I could’ve sworn something close to terror must have been running through her veins, though I couldn’t feel it anymore. And frankly, I was glad. I had enough of my own emotional bullshit to deal with. All I wanted at that moment was the truth.

“There wasn’t a letter,” Mom said, her voice shaking.

I stood abruptly, knocking my spiked coffee over in the process. The creamy liquid seeped into the placemat, leaving a large, dark brown stain. I stared at the enlarging area, my fists clutched tight. “Stop lying. I saw the envelope that day. I know Dad gave it to you. What did it say?”

“Hope?” Meri asked, confusion ringing in her voice.

Mom’s chair screeched against the tile floor as she pushed it back and rose to her feet.

I snapped out of my coffee-spill trance and glared at Mom. “Where are you going?”