Epilogue
Using her foot to slide open the pocket door that led to Belle Maison’s dining room, Phil carried in another batch of homemade biscuits and a pot of steaming coffee, replenishing the cups of the ten guests seated around the large table.
The bed-and-breakfast had been open only for a week, but already it felt like a warm, inviting home that had never been unoccupied.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked one of the women, part of a trio of friends from Pensacola.
“You can get me about five jars of these strawberry preserves,” the woman answered.
“Sorry,” Phil said with a laugh. “It’s not for sale.”
“Well, it should be,” the woman said. “It’s one of the best I’ve ever had. You should package this and sell it. You’d make a killing.”
“Thank you.” Phil beamed. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She used to make it right here in the kitchen of Belle Maison. I’ll bring out more, along with some of the honey. It’s also made here in Gauthier.”
“I just love this little town,” the woman said.
“There’s a lot to love about it,” Phil said, pride blossoming in her chest.
She cleared the plates of several of the guests and carried them back into the kitchen, depositing the dirty dishes in the dishwasher—one of her concessions to modernizing the Victorian.
If the reservations continued to pour in the way they had over the past couple of weeks, Belle Maison’s new caretaker, who was scheduled to arrive next week, would have enough on her hands without adding hand-washing dirty dishes to her plate.
A part of Phil resented the thought of someone else coming in to run the B&B.
This week had been challenging, but she couldn’t deny that she’d enjoyed it.
Seeing the faces of the guests as they took in all of the nuances of her family’s home was so satisfying.
She’d loved giving tours this week, imparting anecdotes about what it was like to grow up here.
She’d even enjoyed the cooking, something she hadn’t done in a long time.
Jamal came up behind her and buried his face against her neck, pressing a quick kiss to the sensitive spot under her ear. “I had no idea you knew your way around the kitchen,” he said. “I think it’s sexy.”
“Sexy, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” he said. He nibbled her ear. “You know what would be even sexier? If you were wearing those denim overalls you work in. But just the overalls. No shirt underneath.”
“Um, that would leave me pretty exposed.” Phil laughed even as a seductive little tremor of need raced across her skin.
“That’s the point.”
She slapped him on the arm and handed him the jar of strawberry preserves and the honey from Claude Babineaux’s honey farm. “Bring this out to your guests, and remind them that the van will be arriving in a few minutes to take them on their tour of downtown Gauthier.”
“Will you be waiting for me in those overalls when I clear the people out of this house?” he asked. “We haven’t christened the kitchen yet, have we?”
They’d christened every room in the B&B—some twice.
“You know what?” he continued. “On second thought, forget the overalls. Just you on the kitchen table will work for me.”
The naughty tremors that rushed down Phil’s spine made her itch with anticipation, but her body’s demands would have to wait.
“No fooling around today,” she told him. “Mya is waiting for me. The civic association is putting the finishing touches on the Christmas decorations in Heritage Park. I promised her I would help.”
Jamal’s incredulous frown wrung a laugh out of her. “You would pick hanging decorations over wild sex on the kitchen table?” he asked.
She released a mournful sigh, but whatever she didn’t get to experience on the kitchen table would be more than made up for in Jamal’s bed tonight.
Or her bed. It didn’t matter which one they used.
For the past two weeks they had not spent a single night alone, and Phil had no desire to ever do so again.
She needed this man in her life. And, thank God, he seemed to need her just as much.
The engagement ring he’d placed on her finger a few days ago said it all.
“Fine,” he said. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. “Are we going to pick up your mom this afternoon?”
“Yes,” Phil answered. “Dr. Beckman thinks she will be okay for a few hours. It’s been a long time since she’s seen Gauthier. Maybe it’ll spark something in her memory.”
“I hope so,” he said with another kiss. She would never, ever get tired of his kisses.
He reached behind her and gave her butt a healthy pat. “Leave this mess. I’ll take care of it. I want you to finish up with Mya so we can have a little free time before we have to pick up your mom.”
She shook her head. “You really can’t wait until tonight?”
He shrugged. “Probably, but give me a good reason why I should.”
Phil’s brows lifted. “You know what? I can’t think of one.” She slapped him on the behind. “I’ll clear the table. And Jamal?” She reached over and took the jar of honey from his hand. “I can think of a better use for this.”
A wickedly sexy smile broke out across his face.
“God, I love an insatiable woman.”