Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
It took some convincing, but Rafael finally got Gisele back in his bed.
Not to make love but to try to sleep when sleep was the furthest thing from their minds.
Someone wanted inside the Mamba Wamba gift shop. Two attempts had been made, and the sheriff’s department didn’t have a single clue that would lead them to the culprit.
Rafael lay awake well into the early hours of the morning, holding Gisele as she slept fitfully. In his mind, he’d gone through every possible suspect he could think of, which didn’t even amount to a handful of people. Who would target the gift shop and why? And if it wasn’t the gift shop, who would target Gisele? She was one of the kindest, most giving people he knew .
Was her connection with the bayou’s Voodoo queen enough of a reason to terrorize her?
Rafael drifted into a light sleep, remaining aware enough to come up fighting should a threat present itself.
He must have slept harder than he’d thought. A soft sound dragged him out of REM sleep to fully awake in a split second. He sat up in the bed and reached for the gun on the nightstand. His gaze swept through what he could see in the room outside the bedroom door.
The colorful swirl of a skirt flitted by.
Rafael left the bed and crept toward the door. As he reached it, Gisele appeared in front of him, a coffee mug filled to the brim cradled in one hand.
She smiled, her face a little rosier than when she’d gone to sleep the night before, but dark smudges under her eyes gave testament to troubled sleep. “Good morning. Here.” She handed the coffee mug to him and pointed to the small table. “Sit. I’m making breakfast.”
“You don’t have to make my breakfast,” he said. “I should make yours.”
She shrugged. “You brought me breakfast yesterday when you delivered the éclair. If I cook your breakfast this morning, we can call it even. Either way, I’m having eggs.” She spun and returned to the kitchenette, making busy noises as she opened and closed drawers and doors in pursuit of a pan, spatula and cooking spray.
Rafael didn’t have a lot of kitchenware, which was okay, considering there wasn’t much room in the small space. What he had, he’d unpacked the day before and stowed in various cabinets.
His landlord, YaYa, had gifted him with a basket of basic staples to welcome him to the apartment. Otherwise, his refrigerator would have only contained one beer short of a sixpack and the taco soup he’d thrown together from cans of beans and the hamburger meat he’d picked up at Broussard’s Country Store.
Among the items YaYa had left in the gift basket was a carton of fresh farm eggs, a small package of custom ground, dry roast coffee, a small jar of homemade apple butter and a loaf of bread from the bakery. All items were from local sources, with their labels clearly displayed.
Rafael liked that she’d given him a taste of Bayou Mambaloa. Some of the items were from places he had yet to try. He’d felt more a part of the community than just an outsider holing up at the boarding house.
Now, with Gisele standing barefoot in the kitchen with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail anchored at the base of herneck, he was even more thankful for the gift. It meant they didn’t have to go out to eat breakfast. He would have more “alone” time with this woman .
Since he’d been jilted, he’d avoided having a woman stay the night at his place. He’d go to the woman’s home and leave in the middle of the night. Staying gave the impression he would be around longer than a one-night stand. He hadn’t wanted to give any woman a reason to believe he’d stick around when he’d been upfront with them about no commitment.
But here he was, the morning after, watching the quirky Voodoo shop owner standing there in her flowy, colorful skirt, her bare feet peeking out from beneath the hem—and he liked it. In fact, he could get used to seeing her every morning.
His gut twisted into a tight knot.
After they’d made love last night, she’d walked out of his apartment. If the alarm hadn’t gone off when it had, she’d have gone home to her place.
Like he’d done to so many women in the past few years. Like he’d more or less warned Gisele he’d do to her.
His stomach roiled.
God, he was a bastard.
Gisele glanced up with a smile. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Over easy,” he responded automatically, though he wasn’t the least bit hungry. What he needed was to go for a run. Maybe that would help loosen the knot twisting inside.
Then again, he was afraid that if he went for a run, he’d keep running until he was too far to return. Only, he couldn’t leave Gisele alone. He was responsible for protecting her.
He could take Landry up on his offer to switch places. Rafael could go to the New Orleans job, and Landry would look after Gisele.
The thought of leaving someone else in charge of Gisele’s safety made that knot in his belly twist even tighter. If he went to New Orleans, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on that job when he’d be thinking and worrying about Gisele. Besides, the New Orleans team would have left early that morning to be boots on the ground and ready when the client arrived with her entourage.
Rafael’s hands curled into fists. He couldn’t bail on this job. He had to be there for Gisele. She was his number one responsibility. Avoidance was not an option with her. He had to work through his own issues another time.
He ducked back into the bedroom and pulled on a T-shirt, jeans and boots. He checked the handgun he’d left lying on the nightstand.
Full magazine.
Check.
Safety on.
Check.
He pulled his shoulder holster out of the closet and laid it on the bed. When he went out today, he’d pack his weapon. One break-in might have been a crime of opportunity with strangers in town for the festival.
A second attempted break-in at the same building had been intentional. The intruder may or may not have been armed.
Rafael wasn’t taking any chances. He’d be ready, and he’d be there for Gisele as a professional.
The personal stuff had to go on hold until Gisele was no longer threatened and he had the bandwidth to sort himself out.
Rafael squared his shoulders and emerged from the bedroom, determined to maintain focus no matter what.
Gisele met him with that beautiful smile that made his groin tighten and his thoughts scramble. “Ready?”
Oh, hell no.
He fought the urge to go back to the bedroom to wrangle his scattered brain cells before coming back out to face her. Instead, he gave her a brief nod and took a seat where she indicated at the tiny dinette.
She’d laid out their plates of eggs, cutlery, a small stack of toast and the jar of apple butter. “I warmed your coffee in the microwave. Be careful; it might be too hot.”
“Thanks,” he said, his voice gruff.
He picked up his fork and stared at the plate for a long moment.
A slim hand reached out and touched his thigh. “ Hey,” Gisele spoke softly. “Whatever you’re thinking...stop.”
He looked up, his brow puckering.
“Just because I stayed last night doesn’t mean I’ll expect to stay forever. I’ll be back in my own apartment tonight. Now, eat before your eggs get cold. I have a lot to do in the shop this morning.”
He wanted to tell her he wasn’t stewing over the fact she’d stayed the night. But that wouldn’t have been true. Waking up with her in his apartment had changed everything.
And she believed she could fix it by going back to her place? That only made his gut knot tighter.
Fuck.
He stabbed his fork into his eggs.
He’d broken his own self-imposed rules. Now, he had to figure out where that left him.
As if totally unaware of the war being waged in Rafael’s head, Gisele carried the burden of conversation. “We sold so much yesterday, I need to restock, and I’m also low on certain ingredients for my remedies. My grand-mère promised to bring what I need into town, but I have to meet her at the festival later this afternoon to get them.” She ate her scrambled eggs and then selected a piece of toast from the stack, slathering a healthy portion of apple butter across the surface. “Today is the last day of the festival. It’s usually the most hectic day and night with the biggest musical acts on stage. Things should calm down after the tourists leave tomorrow morning. We’ll have a little residual surge through the shop, but then we’ll be back to our normal seasonal traffic.”
How could she sit across the table so cool, calm and beautiful when his insides were in panic mode?
She bit into her toast and chewed. “Will you be going to the boat factory today?”
He choked down the bite of egg he’d just taken and shook his head. “I’ll be here all day.”
She glanced around the apartment. “You don’t have much left to unpack.”
“I didn’t have a lot to begin with. You don’t accumulate a lot of things when you’re always on the move.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “You didn’t have a house or apartment to come back to?”
“Sometimes. Then I’d get PCS orders andhave to pack my shit and move or pay for a storage unit. It was easier to keep my physical assets to a minimum.” He nodded toward the sofa and coffee table. “Besides the mattress in my bedroom, that’s the first new furniture item I’ve purchased in ten years. I bought gently used stuff wherever I went and sold it when I shipped out.”
Her hand paused with the piece of toast halfway to her mouth. “Not having a home had to be hard. You never married?” She bit into the toast without looking up.
The memory of him standing at the altar, waiting patiently as the processional music started and stopped three times flashed through his mind. No one had come down the aisle. Not the flower girl or the ring bearer. Not the maid of honor or the bride’s maids—until the bride’s mother had stepped through the door and whispered into the ear of one of themale attendants. As the guy had hurried up a side aisle, Rafael could tell he wasn’t happy. He’d passed Rafael and whispered in the preacher’s ear.
The preacher had given Rafael an apologetic grimace and announced that the wedding would be postponed. The bride was indisposed.
Which translated to the bride had changed her mind and had run off in the limousine with the maid of honor.
For the first time since that day, Rafael didn’t feel the hurt and anger of betrayal. At the time, he’d thought he was heartbroken. Now, he recognized the primary hurt he’d experienced was to his pride. He was lucky. He’d dodged a bullet that day. If he ever ran into his ex-fiancée, he’d thank her and wish her happiness with her wife.
So, in answer to Gisele’s question, had he ever married...
“No,” he said, without the usual anger that had cast a cloud over every relationship since his wedding. “I was stood up at the altar.”
Gisele winced. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was for the best. I was more embarrassed than brokenhearted. I must not have really loved her. I was more in love with the idea of Love and marriage.”
Gisele’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Have you ever been really in love?” she asked so quietly he almost didn’t make out her words.
The first thought that sprang to his mind and almost to his lips was not until now.
He clamped his lips tight. What was he thinking? In love?
He couldn’t look away from the woman across from him. Her doe-brown eyes and shiny black hair, the smile that lit the room. Her patience with customers, her loyalty to her friends and family and her fierce independence all added up to a pretty amazing package.
Did he love her?
His pulse kicked up, and his palms grew clammy. She was still waiting for an answer to his question.
He could tell her to mind her own business or that he’d rather not say. When he opened his mouth, he simply said, “No.”
No sooner had it left his lips than he knew it was a lie.
He’d watched Gisele for a while—before he’d pissed her off at the festival when she’d accused him of toying with her cousin’s heart. He knew how the community loved her. It was part of the reason he had been intrigued by her .
He'd pursued her because she was always on his mind, unlike any other female he’d initially found attractive. He thought he could take her out a few times, get her out of his system, thoughts and mind and move on.
Boy, had he been wrong.
Gisele pushed back from the table, collected the plates and cutlery and carried them into the kitchenette.
Rafael followed. “I’ll wash these,” he said.
She responded with, “Then I’ll dry.”
They worked in silence for the next few minutes as they hand-washed the dishes, dried themand put them away. Working at her side felt as natural as breathing. All too soon, the task was done, and she went in search of her shoes.
Once she had them on, she looped her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. “I hope you have a nice day,” she said rather formally.
“Thank you,” he responded, equally formally, as if they hadn’t made love the night before or slept in each other’s arms.
Gisele walked out of his apartment and down the stairs.
Rafael followed.
She stopped and faced him, her eyebrows dipping low on her forehead. “Where are you going?
“With you,” he stated.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s daylight, I’m going to my shop. Neither attack happened during the daylight hours.”
“Both attacks were on your building,” he reminded her. “They weren’t crimes of opportunity. You were targeted.”
“Still, no one will attack while others are around. I’ll have a lot of people around me today. You don’t need to be one of them.”
He frowned. “I can’t protect you if I’m not near you.”
She gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for being so conscientious, but I don’t need protection while I’m working today.” She turned and walked away.
Not to be deterred, Rafael followed her. “At least let me clear the building before you go in.”
“We would’ve heard if anyone tried to get in,” she said as she stuck her key in the lock.
“Not if he figured out how to disarm the alarms.”
“Is that possible without getting inside first?”
“No,” Rafael said.
“Thought so.” She pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Rafael eased past her before she could close the door between them. He grinned. “I promise, you won’t even know I’m here.”
Gisele rolled her eyes. “Right. I won’t know there’s a bull in my China shop.” She sighed. “Fine. You can stay, but try not to get in the way. ”
“Let me help you restock shelves. You’ll find I’m trainable. I got high marks in my obedience class.”
“You’re too much,” she said and put him to work loading items on the Voodoo doll rack.
He shook his head as he hung the dolls, amazed that so many people purchased them. He would feel sorry for the people they targeted with the pins if he believed they really worked. Like so many things unique to Louisiana, it was the novelty of the item more than the use.
Gisele’s assistant, Lena, arrived and went to work sweeping and mopping the floors. The shop wouldn’t open for another hour.
Before Lena’s mopping could box him into a corner, Gisele appeared, carrying a bucket of soapy water, a squeegee and a dry shop rag. “You can clean the outside windows while the floor is drying.”
“Keep the back door locked,” he warned.
“I will. I leaned the ladder against the back wall. You’ll need it.” She shooed him out the door, leaving it unlocked, but the sign on the door remained CLOSED.
Rafael set the bucket, squeegee and rag on the stoop and hurried around back to collect the ladder. Once he had it set up in front of the building, he went to work washing the windows, taking pleasure in a purely physical task where he could see the fruits of his labors in the finished job.
He had the work done before the store opened. In the process of cleaning windows, he noticed areas of the exterior that needed minor maintenance. He nailed down loose siding, caulked around the clean windows and tightened the screws holding the striped awning over the front. When he'd finished outside, he carried the ladder to the rear and stowed it in the stock room.
After the store opened, he worked inside, careful to stay as far out of the way as possible in the tight confines between rows of goods and display racks. When the shop became too crowded, he moved into the back of the store and cleaned the shelves in a storage room, the toilet and replaced the filters in the air vents.
Close to the end of the day, the crowd thinned for a few minutes. Gisele let Lena leave early to catch the band playing that night at the festival.
Rafael stepped up beside Gisele.
She moved money from the cash drawer to the safe below, closed the safe and spun the lock. She straightened in time to smile and welcome a customer who’d just entered the shop.
“How do you do it?” he asked.
Her brow wrinkled as she shifted items on the counter. “Do what?”
“Keep smiling after a long day on your feet.”
She shrugged. “I remind myself that I work for myself, not a bloodless financial firm that doesn’t give two rat’s asses about the people they represent.” She smiled up at him. “I can go to bed at night with a clear conscience.”
He brushed his hand across her cheek. “You’re a good person, Gisele.”
“I try.” She glanced past him. “Excuse me. That customer looks like he has a question.” Gisele moved around him and approached the customer.
The man had shaggy dark hair and a stubbled face that looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in a few days. He stared around the store with a frown as if looking for something but not finding it. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of a lightweight jacket.
Who wore a jacket, even a lightweight one, in south Louisiana during the summer? He wasn’t like the hordes of other customers who’d been through that day. This man had entered alone.
Rafael followed Gisele and pretended to rearrange items on a shelf close by, keeping the man in view through his peripheral vision and in range should he try anything.