Sandra Hill - [Jinx 03] (26 page)

They zoomed out the door and up to the highway. Soon they were riding off toward the Gulf.

At first, she was too stunned to protest. Then she half-turned to tell him to turn the damn bike around, when she noticed . . . rather heard . . . a loud noise behind them. “What is that?”

“The weddin’ party.”

“No!” she said. But, yes, they were being followed by a train of motorcycles.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said.

He stepped on the accelerator then, and she could no longer speak. And John, who could have spoken in her ear, remained oddly silent.

Just as suddenly as he’d speeded up, he slowed down, then began a series of maneuvers, in one street and down another, clearly trying to evade their followers. When it became apparent that he’d lost the other cyclists, he pulled into a park. To her surprise, it was Lilypond Park near her home.

He shut off the ignition and jumped off, walking away from her.

Celine just sat there, stunned. What had just happened? First, he’d embarrassed the life out of her by making her a spectacle at the Pirate Ball, claiming to be taking her to some pirate lair. And did someone mention a wedding? Then he came here to a park and just left her.

Slowly, she got off, then walked up to him where he stood with his forehead against the monkey bars.

“John, what’s happening?”

“My family . . . my dingbat family . . . planned the whole thing, and I was actually going along with it. I would capture you at the ball, take you off to my pirate ship out on the Gulf . . . and, yes, unbelievably, they’ve got a real brig there. There is a ship’s captain and a priest waiting there, too, in case we wanted to get married. Talk about! Typical LeDeux crap!”

Celine didn’t understand. “If you were going along with it, why did you stop? Not that I wanted you to continue.”

He turned and smiled . . . a sad smile. “I decided I didn’t want you like that.”

Her heart sank. It shouldn’t matter, but, oh, it hurt so bad to hear him say he didn’t want her.

“Don’t look like that, Celine.” He put a hand to her face, and she could have wept at the sheer joy of his touch.

“You decided you don’t want me?” Her voice wobbled with emotion.

He laughed. “Just the opposite. I want you too much.”

“I don’t understand.” She couldn’t help herself; she turned her face slightly and kissed the palm that still held her face.

Inhaling sharply on a hiss, he explained, “I want us to be married. But not in a heated rush, or a crazy-assed spectacle. I want to be married in a church, with me in a tuxedo and you in a gown, and Etienne there, and my family, and . . . I don’t know. I just don’t want to do it like this.”

“Oh, John!” She was so choked up she could barely speak.

John dropped down to one knee in front of her, looking absolutely ridiculous in his pirate outfit, still sporting the mustache and goatee. He took one of her hands in his and asked, “Celine Arseneaux, will you marry me?”

She couldn’t speak.

“I sure as hell hope those are tears of joy.”

She nodded, practically bawling, then dropped to her knees in front of him. “Yes.” She kissed him, over and over and over, between sobs. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

He shifted back slightly and looked down. “Have I told you how much I like . . . laces?”

She looked down as well, and grinned at the bulge between them. “Have I told you how much I like . . . tights?”

When they finally came up for a breather, after they’d made love on the monkey bars of Houma Lilypond Park, he quipped, “I take that as a ‘yes.’”

His family didn’t find them ’til next morning at his cabin, where they’d celebrated a pre-wedding honeymoon.

Tante Lulu was ecstatic. And no one was surprised to hear her say, “Thank you, St. Jude.”

Chapter
25

One month later, John LeDeux and Celine Arseneaux were married at Our Lady of the Bayou Church in Houma.

He wore a tuxedo, the bride wore a flowing white gown that once belonged to Tante Lulu. Luc was the best man, and Charmaine was the maid of honor. Ushers were Remy, René, Jake, Angel, Caleb, and Adam. Bridesmaids in sleek peach sheath dresses were Ronnie, Grace, Rachel, Sylvie, and Val. James Arseneaux gave the bride away. Tante Lulu, tears streaming down her face, gave Tee-John away. Even Tante Lulu looked classy today, her gray hair neatly coifed in a curly cap topped by a red straw hat to match her red silk, calf-length gown. Etienne, in a mini tux, was the ring bearer, and Charmaine’s Mary Lou was the flower girl.

Everyone expressed surprise that the wildest of the LeDeux brothers would insist on such a traditional wedding attended by five hundred of Louisiana’s best . . . and not so best. Even the reception was a sedate affair at the country club. Well, not so sedate. There was a huge blown-up photo behind the wedding party’s table of John and Celine kissing, the infamous one from the Playpen. And, once the sumptuous Cajun dinner was over and they got past the praline peach-tiered cake-cutting and bridal bouquet-tossing and garter nonsense—Angel took the honors of putting Celine’s garter on Grace’s leg in an exercise so sexy it would go down in Louisiana wedding history—then the music started. And John LeDeux showed everyone that he still had a lot of wild left in him.

Lizzie, who would be trying out for
American Idol
again next week, sang “Oh, Promise Me,” then a bunch of other hokey love songs, to the enthusiastic clapping of a horde of new fans.

He dirty danced his bride around that dance floor. They chicken-danced and did the Hokey Pokey with everyone, including Etienne, who it turned out was quite a good dancer. Well, no wonder, considering who his daddy was.

Since Ronnie’s grandfather Frank Jinkowsky and his girlfriend Flossie were there, the band had to play a few polkas. Watching Cajuns polka was not pretty.

Valcour LeDeux and his wife Jolie, John’s mother, were invited, but did not come. John had no desire to see his father and barely tolerated his mother. Still, he’d felt the need to invite them, but was thankful they hadn’t accepted.

John kissed his bride so many times that evening, the partygoers lost count. He smacked her on the butt. She pinched his butt in return. He chugged down oyster shooters, and taught his bride how to appreciate the delicacy, too.

The couple planned to make their home at his enlarged stilted cabin on Bayou Black. Celine would continue to work for the newspaper syndicate, and John would continue as a cop, though he still harbored ideas about going off on his own as a detective. His friend Tank Woodrow might even join him, a decision to be made after the wedding.

The only surprise came at the end of the evening when two strangers arrived.

Tante Lulu took one look at them, slapped a hand over her heart, and said, “Oh, my God!”

The two men, early thirties, were twins, clearly not invited guests since they were not dressed for a wedding. One wore jeans and a T-shirt that said, “Alaska Air Shipping.” The other wore khakis and a button-down shirt.

They were tall and tanned and good-looking. And they were clearly LeDeuxs, more of that Valcour LeDeux’s illegitimate offspring. Aaron and Dr. Daniel LeDeux had come to Louisiana to confront their miscreant father, whom they’d only heard about recently on the death of their mother.

Tante Lulu tried to make them feel welcome, though they were brooding sorts, unused to the open hospitality of Cajuns, she supposed. Must be all that cold up North, she conjectured to Tee-John.

“Do ya s’pose that Valcour was doin’ it with an Eskimo?” she whispered to Tee-John just before he left for his honeymoon to parts unknown, though a pirate ship was rumored to be involved.

The twins overheard, and Daniel told her in a cold voice, “My mother was a Cajun, born in Lafayette.”

The other twin, equally cold, though why they felt the need to be cold to her was something she would address and soon, guaranteed, added, “And a physician, like Dan here . . . though not back then.”

“Are you two married?”

“No!” they both said, as if she’d asked them if they were two-headed aliens. Talk about!

Tee-John, laughing, leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Maybe you have two more candidates for the thunderbolt.”

Tante Lulu brightened. “Does you two have hope chests?”

Gaping at her, and she wasn’t even in her usual outrageous attire, Aaron shook his head and said, “Are you crazy?”

Everyone around them answered for her, “Yes!”

Tante Lulu just smiled and said, “Does anyone hear thunder?”

TANTE LULU’S PEACHY PRALINE COBBLER CAKE

The cake:

white cake mix

3 whole eggs

1/3 cup oil

1 cup water

The streusel:

½ cup brown sugar (more or less, depending on taste)

2 pkgs (1.23 oz each) peaches-and-cream instant oatmeal

3 oz pecan pralines, chopped (reserve 2 tbsp for garnish)

¼ cup (½ stick) butter, melted

Fruit:

1 medium peach, sliced thin, or 1 small can peaches, thoroughly drained

The frosting:

1 cup milk

4 tbsp cornstarch

1 cup Crisco (half butter, if desired)

2 cups granulated sugar

pinch of salt

2 tsp vanilla

The cake:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Make cake batter and put into two round, greased and floured, cake pans. Mix streusel, and sprinkle over top of both cakes. Bake 35 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Let cakes cool.

The frosting:
Cook milk and cornstarch until thick, stirring often. Cool. Cream all remaining ingredients, adding the cornstarch mixture gradually. It should be fluffy and not overly sweet.

Place one of the cooled layers, streusel side up, on a cake platter. Frost, topping with half the sliced peaches. Cover with the second cake, streusel side up. Frost top and sides. Garnish with sliced peaches in a pinwheel pattern, finishing with sprinkle of remaining chopped pralines.

Note:

• This is a very rich cake because of the streusel and instant oatmeal. If using plain oatmeal, the amount of brown sugar can be altered, to taste.

• Peach juice, if available, can be substituted for some or all of the water in the cake.

• Any white frosting can be used, keeping in mind how sweet the cake already is. A Crisco frosting will be less sweet.

• Of course the white cake can be made from scratch.

Last bit of instructions from Tante Lulu: “Set out a pitcher of iced sweet tea,
chère
. Invite over your friends and family. Then,
Laissez les bons temps rouler!
Let the good times roll!”

Dear Reader:

Well, finally, that Cajun rogue Tee-John LeDeux got his own story. Hope it was wild enough for you.

And Tante Lulu certainly was in her usual rare form, if I do say so myself. I love the one description of her in this book: Grandma Moses with cleavage! Yep, that says it all.

You will notice that I have left the door open for several other books. Angel Sabato and Grace O’Brien, for example. Or the twins from Alaska: Aaron and Daniel LeDeux. Whatever future books may be on the horizon, please know this: Tante Lulu will never die in any of my books. And besides, she still has a few more hope chests to make and St. Jude statues to pass out.

I have said it before and will say it again, I love the Cajun country: its beauty, its music, its language, its food, and its culture. With that in mind, after hundreds of requests, I have included Tante Lulu’s recipe for Peachy Praline Cobbler Cake in this book, and there will be more free Cajun recipes on my Web site. In fact, send me some of your favorites to share.

I try to be as accurate as possible in my books, but sometimes it’s the little facts that we mess up on. Yes, I now know that you don’t peel okra. Yes, I now know that John Deere tractors are only ever green and yellow. And, holy crawfish, who knew there were no big rocks in southern Louisiana? You readers sure do keep me on my toes, and I love you for it.

There really are numerous Web sites on the Internet dealing with pirates, as mentioned in this book. The one I especially like is
www.talklikeapirate.com
, from which I have shamelessly borrowed humor—with attribution, of course.

Please visit my Web site for lots of free goodies: original novellas, genealogy charts, books, videos, recipes, and promotional materials. As always, I thank you for your support and wish you smiles in your reading.

Sandra Hill
www.sandrahill.net
email:
[email protected]

About the Author

Sandra Hill
is the best-selling author of more than twenty novels and the recipient of numerous awards.

Readers love the trademark humor in her books, whether the heroes are Vikings, Cajuns, Navy SEALs, or treasure hunters, and they tell her so often, sometimes with letters that are laugh-out-loud funny. In addition, her fans feel as if they know the characters in her books on a personal basis, especially the outrageous Tante Lulu.

At home in central Pennsylvania with her husband, four sons, and a dog the size of a horse, Sandra is always looking for new sources of humor. It’s not hard to find.

Two of her sons have Domino’s Pizza franchises, and one of the two plays in poker competitions. They swear they are going to write a humor book entitled
The Pizza Guys’ Guide to Poker
.

Her husband, a stockbroker, is very supportive of her work. He tells everyone he is a cover model. In fact, he made that claim one time when she did a radio interview and swears the traffic around their home was heavy for a while as people tried to get a gander at the handsome model. Then there was the time he made a blow-up of one of her early clinch covers with a hunk and a half-naked woman and hung it in his office. He put a placard under it saying, “She lost her shirt in the stock market . . . but does she look like she cares?”

So be careful if you run into Sandra. What you say or do may end up in a book. If you want to take the chance, you can contact her through her Web site at
www.sandrahill.net
.