Chapter 28 Jesse
TWENTY-EIGHT
JESSE
“Oof, don’t let Daddy Lucius catch you doing that,” a voice says.
I nearly fall off the tire swing I’m sitting on.
The unlit clove cigarette falls out of my mouth and into the pile of leaves I helped Luc rake earlier today before he and his sisters went to volunteer at a soup kitchen.
I’ve been slowly feeding them into the small bonfire we’ve had going since this morning, but I spaced out for a minute there.
“Jesus, what the fu–”
“That kind of language isn’t going to get you on his good side, either,” the woman says, cackling like a witch.
I stand and turn towards the woman walking through the Martín’s yard. She’s got dirty blonde hair piled on top of her head and a wide, devious smile across her face. She’s wearing a Shreveport Cyclones hoodie, leggings with mermaids, and polka dot rain boots.
“You must be Shawna,” I say, standing to greet her.
“The one and only,” she says, her sassy tone accentuating her Southern accent. Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, she accepts my hand and pulls me in roughly. She smells like coffee and baked goods, which makes sense. Luc told me she owns a café and bookshop.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“I know.”
Immediately, I can tell that this woman takes no shit and gives zero fucks.
I love her already.
She matches my grin and wraps an arm through one of mine.
“Come on now, you and I have some gossiping to do and I don’t want Mr. Martín to know I’m canoodling with the enemy.”
I laugh out loud. “We definitely can’t have that.”
Shawna and I walk to the end of the property and along the fence line, where it dips downhill towards a small creek and backs up into some fields Luc told me were sugarcane that’s recently been harvested.
She climbs up on the fence and sits down on the wooden railing, staring out at the vast fields of churned ground and stubble.
“Just wait until you come back in the summer. It’s hotter than hell, but the fields are gorgeous. Like a rolling sea of green.” She looks at me and tilts her head. “Almost the same color as your eyes, actually. Maybe that’s why he likes them so much.”
“Because they remind him of home?”
She shrugs. “Honestly, who knows what that man gets up to in his head. I can’t make sense of him sometimes. Twenty-one years of not taking an interest in nobody and then BAM, there you are.”
The way she’s studying me like some kind of anomaly has my face heating. And since when do I blush? That’s Luc’s thing, not mine!
“You love him.”
It’s not a question. It’s probably obvious to anyone paying attention. Still, I dip my head, in case she actually needs the confirmation.
“Good. He’s going to need that when all this hiding explodes in y’all’s faces.”
A sardonic laugh huffs out of me. She’s not wrong. It’s unlikely this thing is going to stay under wraps if we’re going to keep going in any serious capacity. The way I feel about him, there’s no way I’m willing to give him up.
“I’m worried about how he’s going to handle it if, or when, more likely, our relationship comes out.
He’s trying so hard to be cool with the press he’s getting from just the speculation, but once it’s officially out there?
I don't think there's a way to prepare him for how insane it's going to get.
And, well, I don't want to lose him. I'd give it all up if it were even an option, but. .."
"You can't change who you are. Luc knows that.
And likewise, you can't change who he is.
But I have to say, the amount he's come out of his shell for you is pretty impressive.
The fact that he's still in this, that he's willing to risk the publicity and brought you home to meet his family, it says a lot about how much he cares about you.
Seriously? A fucking sex tape? The fact that he even went there at all is an entire conversation on its own, but that he hasn't noped out and run for the hills must mean he has it bad for you, Jesse Moore. "
"I don't know how I got so lucky."
"Maybe it's the piercings."
If my eyes got any wider, they'd fall right out of my head. "You watched them?!"
"Well… yeah. My best friend just had all his business put out there for the whole world to see. It's part of my job to assess the damage and find out how bad it was."
"And?" Maybe I shouldn't ask, but I have to know.
"I mean, honestly…" Shawna shrugs and gives me a wry look of approval, followed by a slow clap. "As far as leaked nudes and sex tapes go, it could have been way worse. If it were my ass getting cream-pied on the internet, I'd barely be embarrassed about it."
"Luc was right," I say, laughing incredulously. "You really are something else."
"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you," she says, a glint of mischievous laughter in her eye. "But in all seriousness, what is the plan for when shit hits the fan?"
"The plan is to focus on the positive. I'm in love with Luc Martín and that's that.
My PR team is armed and ready for the relationship to go public.
We're hoping to wait until some of the press has died down so we can do it on our own terms and not in response to a scandal.
Either way, we will not engage with any questions or conversations regarding the leaked tapes. "
"America's sweetheart and the consummate bad boy? It's a love story for the ages."
"I'd like to believe so. I just have to hope he doesn't get chased away before we can find the happily ever after."
"Just be patient with him, give him time to process when things start heating up. He's never gone this far outside of his comfort zone before. You've met his dad now, I'm sure you can see where he gets some of his stoicism from."
"Yeah, that man does not like me."
"If it helps, I don't think he expressly dislikes you. If that were the case, you wouldn't be in his house. That man does not fuck around when it comes to his kids."
"I suppose I should feel lucky he's shooting eye lasers at me rather than a shotgun, then?"
Shawna laughs. "Mr. Martín is intense, but Luc can be too. They're alike in that way. And there's the stubbornness, can't forget that."
"I was going to make a joke about Luc's teen years, but I have a feeling he was a model son that rarely talked back or got in trouble."
"You're pretty well on the nose, although his mama used to credit me for his good behavior back in those days."
"How so?"
"He was so busy trying to keep me out of trouble, that he rarely had time to find his own," she snickers.
"That doesn't surprise me," I laugh.
"Come to think of it, I think the only time Luc went against his father's wishes was when he joined the NFL."
That takes me by surprise. "What? Really? Did he not approve?"
"Oh no, definitely not. Football was meant to be a tool to pay for college and nothing more. Luc only pursued it because the Martín's were having some troubles with the house and were at risk of losing it."
I look back at the modest but gorgeous home with white-washed siding and pale green shutters. Luc mentioned once that the house has been in his family for something like three generations. I can't imagine that his dad could have been upset with him for doing what he needed.
"He wasn't mad about it, though. Was he?"
She shakes her head. "How could he be? He's a proud man, but he's not an idiot.
It's not like he could turn down Luc's help when the alternative was losing their home.
The girls were still young, and Mrs. Martín had just gone through her first round of chemo.
Times were hard. But I think that's part of the reason Luc worked so hard to stay out of the public eye, and old habits die hard, you know? "
"I suppose that makes sense." I think quietly for a few long moments, tilting my face towards the warm afternoon Sun. "Luc cares a lot about his father's opinion."
"Right or wrong, he always has. And yeah, he has some backwards-ass ideas, but Mr. Martín is a good dad.
Hell, he stepped up for me more than a time or two when I needed a father figure.
I think very highly of him, even if I like to give him shit for being a surly old grouch," she says, twisting her lips into a grin as she looks back at the house and shakes her head.
"When it really comes down to it, what he cares about most is that you're going to do right by his son.
The rest is just a matter of getting used to new ideas. He'll come around."
We sit outside, chatting and laughing, until the fire has died down too much.
Mr. Martín walks out to join us while Shawna and I shovel more leaves into the flames.
He hugs Shawna and wishes her a Merry Christmas, asks about her mother and the store.
It's the most I've heard him talk at once since I've been here.
I perk up when he mentions he's making gumbo with the leftovers from last night's turkey.
"You like gumbo?" Mr. Martín asks me. Shit, this might be the first time he's addressed me directly. Why are my palms sweaty?
"Uh, yes sir. Luc made some when he came to visit me and my mom a few weeks back."
Mr. Martín makes a hmph sound. "Did he make you real gumbo or did he make you some of his health food nonsense?"
I chuckle nervously. "I honestly have no idea. It tasted good, though."
"He use lard or some avocado oil bullshit?"
"Definitely the avocado bullshit."
"Hmph," he says again. "Figures."
"I bet Jesse would like to learn how the real stuff is made," Shawna says, nudging me in the ribs. "I don't think we can let him leave here thinking that's how we do things."
Mr. Martín lets out an exasperated breath before turning and walking back to the house. "Well, come on then," he calls back just as he reaches the front porch steps.
Shawna grins widely and pushes me towards the house to follow him.
"What are you doing?" I whisper-yell as soon as Luc's dad is in the house. "Are you crazy? I can't cook worth shit!"
"Well, you're about to learn," she laughs.