Runner's Moon: Yarrolam (2 page)

            “Where are we going?”

            “Aaron’s made reservations for you at the Hotel Meridian. But I thought, before I dropped you off, we’d go have a bite to eat. Anything in particular you’re hungry for? Want to savor the local flavor?”

            “Sure! Rumor has it this place has some pretty decent Cajun cuisine,” she joked.

            Liam nodded. “Cajun, it is.”

            She leaned over the center console to adjust the air conditioning vent. He immediately reached for the controls.

            “Too cold?”

            “Oh, no, no. I just don’t like it blowing right on my face. It’s okay.”

            He withdrew his hand from the knob and placed it back on the steering wheel. She liked that. Both hands and his full attention on the road. Count her doubly impressed in the way he tried to make her feel comfortable.

            She took a deep breath and caught another whiff of his cologne. Cinnamon. It made her mouth water. She loved the smell of cinnamon. It reminded her of the fall. Freshly baked cinnamon rolls, cinnamon oatmeal, cinnamon and apple scented candles. Autumn was her favorite time of the year, and cinnamon was predominantly used in cooking during the holidays. It gave her a homey, welcome feeling, which warmed her to the pit of her stomach.

            “Hey, Liam? May I ask you a sort of personal question?”

            “What?”

            “What kind of cologne you’re wearing? I’ve never smelled a cinnamon-based cologne. I might want to get a bottle for Aaron.”

            The man didn’t answer. In fact, she would swear his grip tightened on the wheel.

            “I’m not wearing any cologne,” he finally told her.

            “Ah. Then is it a soap or body wash? I’m sorry if I’m probing, but it’s my favorite smell.”

            He shook his head. “I don’t recall my body wash smelling like cinnamon. Sorry.”

            His demeanor seemed to have changed. He didn’t seem more distant, but it felt as if he’d erected some sort of barrier between them. Cherron mentally frowned and sat back in her seat. What had started out as feeling comfortable with each other had turned one hundred eighty degrees, and she couldn’t figure out why.

            Liam pulled up to a restaurant named
Feux de Deux
and valet parked the car. Taking her elbow, he escorted her inside, and they were seated at a table near the window facing an outdoor garden. Cherron sniffed the atmosphere.

“Whatever they’re cooking, it smells good.”

“The food here is decent,” Liam declared, giving her a playful grin.

She stared at her menu, which was printed in partial French, then at the prices. Apparently this place wasn’t intended to be a touristy fast-food joint. She laughed gently. “Okay, I’m lost. This place is a lot more high class than what I’m used to.”

            “What do you prefer? Seafood? Chicken? Or would you rather stick with the basic red beans and rice?” He grinned at her again, making it clear he was teasing her.

That’s good
, she told herself. The barrier appeared to have been lifted, and they were back at square one. For some reason, she didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with this man. In fact, as crazy as it sounded, she wanted to take another deep breath of his cinnamon scent. Maybe it was from something he’d come in contact with earlier that day. One way or another, she promised herself she’d find out. Closing her menu, she laid it on the table. “Let me guess. You can read Cajun French.”

            “Nope. Not a word. But after a lot of trial and error, I’ve found what I like.”

            Cherron smiled. “Then order for me. Surprise me. I’m not a picky eater.”

            “Care for some wine? Or a beer?”

            “Not tonight. I’d rather have tea.”

            The waitress arrived to take their order. As she’d expected, Liam ordered in the local dialect. When the woman left, he pulled out his cell phone.

            “No, I’m not ignoring you,” he commented. “I’m letting Aaron know your pickup was successful, and we’re going to enjoy a nice dinner before I drop you off at the hotel.” He placed his phone back in his shirt’s breast pocket when he finished. “Did Aaron explain why he couldn’t meet you at the airport?”

            “Something about a client meeting.”

            “Unfortunately, in this business, it may not always be a nine-to-five job.”

            She sipped her water. “Can I ask another semi-personal question?”

            “Ask away.”

            “Where are you from? I can’t place your accent.”

            Their drinks arrived. While she added sweetener to hers, she noticed he drank his plain.

            “You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s a tiny village in one of Russia’s northern provinces. It’s called, or was called, Barandat. I and a few other villagers managed to escape before the communist regime took control.”

            “Oh.”

            The waitress brought them a small loaf of bread and butter. Cherron cut off the heel to nosh on.

            “So, how long have you been an investment broker?”

            “I’m not a broker. That’s Aaron’s job. I’m just his assistant. I’ve been doing it for almost seven years. The last three with him.”

            “How did you and Aaron end up together?”

            “He didn’t tell you?”

            “He doesn’t tell me anything about his work,” she told him.

            “I was working as an assistant for a firm in Boston. I saw a commercial on TV about visiting Louisiana, and that’s when I decided I wanted to move to New Orleans. I checked out the job ads, and found out Aaron was wanting to open a branch office for Anthony Chriss Investments and needed an assistant.” Liam held out his hands. “I applied for the job. The rest is history.”

            “Boston is quite a ways from New Orleans,” she noted.

            “Barandat is a long way from Boston,” he countered with a smile.

            She returned the smile. She couldn’t help herself. His was infectious. It was like he put his whole heart into it.

            “So what was it about the commercial that tempted you?”

            “Don’t laugh. It was the swamps.”

            Cherron wrinkled her nose at him. “The swamps? With the alligators and everything?”

            “I was intrigued by all the untapped marshlands and wildlife.” Lacing his fingers together, he bent slightly over the table. “Your turn. Tell me how you hooked up with Aaron. New York is a long way from New Orleans.”

            “Actually, I’m from a town called Avon. When you say New York, people automatically think New York City.” She daubed her bread with some butter and nibbled on it. “This past fall, my cousin and I had tickets to a Broadway show.
Porthos and Holly
. Are you familiar with it?”

            Liam shook his head. “Sorry.”

            “It’s more off-off-Broadway. Anyway, we’d gone to this little diner after the show. My cousin lives in the city, and I was going to spend the night with her and head home the next morning. Aaron was at the diner with a couple of other men. They were attending some sort of seminar.”

            “I remember it.”

            “Were you there, too?” She racked her brain, trying to recall if she’d seen him.

            “No. I stayed behind to watch the store. So that’s how the two of you met?”

            “He bought me and my cousin a drink. He had a smooth line. One thing led to another…” Her voice trailed off as she listened to herself. She made it sound like she was some kind of easy pickup. An easy lay, when it hadn’t been anything remotely like that.

            “That explains why Aaron is always going back to New York for training,” Liam quipped.

            She could tell he was halfway teasing her. Trying to ease her discomfort.

            “What made him decide to pop the question?”

            Cherron paused. “Does Aaron ever talk about me?”

            “Truthfully? No. We don’t spend time together outside of the office. And when we’re at work, we’re both too busy building our clientele to share chit-chat.” He gave a humorless little chuckle. “I didn’t even know what you looked like until he showed me your photo right before I left to meet you at the airport.”

            Their meal arrived. Liam had fish. Poking her dish with a fork, she could tell it was chicken something. “Smells good,” she commented, and took a bite.

            “I’m waiting,” he gently reminded her.

            She shrugged. “There’s not much else to say. Whenever Aaron was in New York, he invited me to come stay at the hotel with him. He wanted me to show him around the city after his meetings were over. Do the tourist bit and all. I like being with him. He’s funny. He’s attentive. He’s intelligent.” She looked up to find Liam studying her. “So when he asked me to marry him, I figured why not?”

            “Why not? That’s an odd way of putting it.” He carefully wiped his mouth and laid his napkin back in his lap. “Guess it’s my turn to ask a personal question. Do you love Aaron?”

            “Of course I do.” As soon as she’d retorted, Cherron knew how it sounded, and quickly amended her reply. “I mean, I care very much for him. To be honest, Liam, I don’t believe the soul-burning type of love you read about in romance novels, or see on the movie screen, really exists. My parents were married for almost thirty years before Dad died. And not once in all that time did I ever see them kiss one another. Or hug. Or even put their arms around each other.” She pushed her broccoli around on her plate with the memories. “I think, in order for a marriage to survive, there has to be a mutual respect for each other. And some fondness. But out and out love? It’s a bogus emotion. I believe when people care for each other, they call it love and let it go at that.”

            He took a sip of his tea before commenting. “I think it’s sad, Cherron.”

            “Oh, you do, do you? Why?”

            “Because you’re wrong. Love exists. But if you settle for second-best, you’re going to miss out on experiencing a soul-burning type of love that could be yours…if you’re willing to wait for it and accept it when you find it.”

            “Are you’re one of those people who believe there’s a perfect soulmate for everyone?” She said it half in jest, but his expression turned stony.

            “I don’t believe, Cherron. I know there is.” He said it so convincingly, for a moment she almost believed him.

            Almost.

            But it was enough to plant a seed of indecision in the back of her mind.

Chapter 3

Message

           
“I don’t believe, Cherron. I know there is.”

            The more she dwelled on it, the more she wanted to ask Liam how he could be so sure. A surreptitious glance at his left hand didn’t reveal a ring, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t taken. But something else bothered her when she heard the gruff determination in his voice.

            She was jealous.

           
Which is stupid. Why would I be jealous of something that doesn’t exist? Just because he believes there’s such a thing as a Happily Ever After doesn’t mean there is one. He’s just one person’s opinion.

           
Then why was she feeling the green-eyed monster? Was it because
he
believed? Was having belief enough to make it happen?

           
Or because he’s found it?

           
She forced herself to smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve found your soulmate.”

            His eyes bored into hers. In the light from the candle burning on the table, they glittered strangely, almost hypnotically. “I believe I have,” he answered.

           
Shit.
Her stomach clenched again when he reaffirmed. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Lucky girl,” she murmured, and took another sip of tea.
Get off the topic, Cherron,
she ordered herself.
Swim in safer waters.
She was relieved when Liam chose to take the same route.

            “How long do you plan to stay in the Big Easy? Or did you have a one-way ticket?”

            “No. It was a round-trip ticket. Aaron suggested I come down. Spend a week to get to know the town. He said he would take me on the tourist haunts, the way I showed him around New York.”

            “I take it you plan to settle here.”

            She nodded. “Eventually.”

            Liam appeared surprised. “Eventually?” He chuckled. “Plan on making this a long engagement?”

            “We’re not in any big hurry, if that’s what you’re asking.”

            “Would sir and madam care for dessert?”

            She jerked back in surprise. She hadn’t seen the waiter approach the table.

            “No, thank you.”

            “Just the check, please,” Liam added.

            The man was prepared, and handed over a small black case. Liam checked the bill, slipped a Ben Franklin inside, then handed the case back. “Keep the change.”

            The waiter beamed. “Thank you, sir. Have a good evening.”

            After the woman departed, Liam got to his feet. “It’s getting late.”

            “Yeah. It’s been a long day. Funny how taking a flight can waste an entire day.”

            He came up behind her to place a hand at her back. The cinnamon scent filled her lungs, and she momentarily closed her eyes as he proceeded to lead her to the front door. He removed his hand, to her dismay, when he informed the valet as to the make and model of their car. They followed the young man outside to wait as he fetched it. Cherron watched as Liam produced another bill from his pants pocket for a tip.

            “You know, it’s rare these days to see someone pay in cash,” she remarked.

            “I don’t have any credit cards.”

            She stared at him in astonishment. “You’re joking, right?”