12. Jonah #2
“Tell me about New York. You danced. You were going to be a ballerina, and then you weren’t, and you came home, and I’ve never heard the story, only the edges of it.”
“The edges are the story. I was good, but not good enough for New York. Once I accepted that, I went home.” She sighed, shifting Atlas. “I returned to New Orleans just as Dad was leaving for Florida. I stayed for a while, but…oh. There you go, my precious little man. Let’s get a burp.”
“My eyes are closed. Please tell me you’re not talking to me.”
She laughed. “You’re not little.”
“And I’d never burp.”
“Not in front of me.”
He turned to watch her lift Atlas to her shoulder while she placed the empty bottle on the nightstand next to Mount Romance Novel.
“You know why?” he asked softly.
“Why you’d never burp?”
“Because I respect you. I want to honor you. And, man, I like you.” He took a breath. “The storm brings out honesty, I guess.”
She looked at him over Atlas’s nearly bald head. “I like you, too,” she whispered, almost as if the words terrified her.
“So…we got that out of the way.”
Atlas let a belch rip, making them laugh.
“And he got that out of the way,” she joked, patting the baby’s back. “Well done, sir. Are you sleepy or do you want to lay right here on the bed and listen to Norman yell at us?”
He fussed a little, and she put him down on his back to look at them with his big, innocent eyes and gummy smile.
“Hey, bud.” Jonah dipped closer. “This will be the last time you’re on a bed with a girl, okay? Until you’re at least thirty.”
She laughed and so did Atlas, who promptly rolled over and tried so hard to crawl back to Pepper, but just couldn’t quite get the action yet.
“C’mere, you.” She bundled him up and brought him back to her chest, her whole body rocking side to side. “Do I have to sing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ or will you let me off the hook?”
He had one little hiccup, then let his eyes close.
“He’s had enough of this hurricane business,” Pepper said. “I’ll just put him down. I think he wants to sleep.”
Jonah agreed, watching her practically float off the bed like the achingly graceful dancer she was. Atlas didn’t even whimper, but stared at the dogs from his back, a little drool on his cheek.
A minute later, Pepper came back to Jonah, and he could have sworn she got just a little bit closer than before. The roar outside was background noise now, about as loud as Jonah’s heartbeat as it kicked up with every second they were this close.
“You didn’t finish telling me about New York,” he said.
“Yeah, I did.” She drew her knees up.
But he wanted more. “Were you sad to go back home when it was over?”
She slid him a sideways look. “I wasn’t,” she said. “And I didn’t go home when I got back. I stayed with, uh, my ex, who was my boyfriend at the time.”
“Oh, yes, the guy you were with for, what was it? Five years?”
“Yep. A long time.” She reached down and very deliberately plucked a thread from the comforter. “I think Atlas’s first word will be ‘da-da,’ don’t you?”
He just smiled at her. “You change subjects like a dancer,” he mused.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s always nimble, a spin away, a little twirl to a new topic, and flutter of your fingertips to wave bye-bye to whatever you don’t want to talk about.”
A smile tugged on her pretty lips. “Do you want to talk about your ex?”
“Well, she’s…passed away, as you know. So, I don’t. But yours? Is that why you came back from New York? For him?”
She shifted on the bed, clearly uncomfortable.
“A little,” she admitted. “Jonah, it was a tough time. I was hurting from the rejection of the dance world, trying to find my way in a new life, and my guy of five years dumped me hard. The only person who was there for me was my dad—except he’d moved to some tiny community college in a strange faraway land called Destin. But he had this room and a soft heart—”
“Soft? Marcel?”
She smiled. “Extremely,” she said. “So I decided to start over, here, and I hate to talk…” Tears pooled in her eyes and instantly he could have kicked himself for pressing.
“Then don’t,” he said. “I’m sorry for asking. I just want to know you. Everything about you. I guess I’m just looking for insight as to where you are…when it comes to being with someone again.”
She looked up at him, the tears multiplying to the point where one blink would do her in. Why? Why was she crying? He had no real idea, but wanted to do anything to get rid of those tears.
“I don’t know where I am on the topic of…being with someone again,” she said softly.
“Well, I know where I am,” he said, a loud gust of wind giving him the excuse to reach for her and wrap her in his arms. “I’m with Pepper Broussard, who makes me…”
She inched back. “I can’t wait for you to finish this. Who makes you…what?”
He sighed. “Crazy. Excited. Intrigued. Happy. Loopy. Do I need to go on?”
With each word, her smile grew. “No. You need to…”
“Kiss you?” he asked softly. “Because I’m dying to.”
She held his gaze, silent, the look in her eyes a perfect match for the longing in his chest.
“Nobody’s going to die on my watch,” she said, trying for humor but the moment was too heavy with anticipation for laughter.
“Then kiss me, Pepper. It’s the only way.”
Smiling, she leaned in and angled her head, offering her perfect, sweet lips to his.
There was nothing frantic about the kiss, nothing passionate or desperate or anything like the storm that raged outside.
This first connection was slow and certain, achingly so. She turned into it and put one hand flat against his chest, not pushing, just resting, just feeling where his heart was hammering against his breastbone.
He kissed her until the storm and the dogs and the whole boarded-up coast had gone somewhere very far away, and when they finally drew apart it was just enough to breathe, her forehead against his jaw.
She stayed very still against him with her hand on his chest, until she sighed and whispered, “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“Before this goes any further. Before you—” She drew back enough to look at him, her eyes teary again, but steady.
“There’s a thing about me, Jonah. And it’s going to change how you see me.
I need you to know that going in. It changes how…
” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “It’s the reason five years ended. ”
Jonah’s chest had gone tight, but not with fear. This was more of a fierce, surprising preparation.
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter,” he said, desperate for her to know that.
“Oh, it’ll matter.”
“No. Listen. I really like you. There is nothing you can tell me that turns you into a person I see as anything other than light. Bright, and light, and—”
“Don’t.” Her voice wavered as she put her fingers over his lips. “Don’t promise that yet. You don’t get to promise that yet.”
“Then tell me, and I’ll promise it after.”
She took a breath. He watched her gather her thoughts and square herself like a dancer taking her place centerstage.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. When I was—”
The lights went out and somewhere, in the distance, there was a crash.
Suddenly, everything was black and noisy. The house plunged into a darkness so total that Jonah felt it land on his skin. The storm had gotten in.
Without a word, he leaped from the bed, tripped over a dog, but righted himself, moving on instinct to the dresser where he’d left his phone.
He patted around, knocked over a bottle, but found it. Instantly, he tapped the flashlight icon and the white light landed right on Pepper’s horrified face.
“I think it’s the kitchen door,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the howling wind.
Immediately, Atlas let out a scream.
“I’ll get it,” he said. “You stay here with him!”
Following the light beam, he barreled down the hall, to the freight train of deafening wind and sheets of rain pouring into the breakfast nook.
He fought the air and felt the rain as he muscled his way toward the door banging open against the wall, throwing his phone on the counter to shed an eerie light onto the ceiling.
Using all his strength, he pushed it back against the storm.
For a moment, he thought the door would win, but by brute power, he got it closed and—thank you, God—latched. Instantly, he grabbed the phone and used it to search the area, spying a sizeable recliner in the den.
Sorry, Marcel.
It was probably the old man’s, and might get wet, but it would save the inside of this house. Placing the light straight up on the counter again, he maneuvered and pushed until he got the heavy chair in front of the door.
He tested it, leaned on it, and slid on the wet floor.
“Can I come out there?” Pepper called.
“Yeah, it’s safe.”
She appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching Atlas, terror in her eyes.
“We’re fine,” he said. “The door didn’t hold, but if you have some towels, I can dry the floor. Where should I—”
“Just come back. We’ll get it in the morning. Just come and hold us.”
He didn’t have to be asked twice.
With the wind at a high-pitched scream, he followed them back into the bedroom, the three of them tucking close together, and inviting the dogs onto the bed. Jonah covered the baby and Pepper with his arm, humming to both of them because…because it’s what his mom did when he was scared.
Whatever she was going to tell him could wait. Tonight, the five creatures in this house were huddled and hoping the storm would pass soon.
Once it did, he’d face the one that had been in her eyes. He didn’t care. Whatever she told him wouldn’t matter.
He protected his little pack of precious people and listened to the wind and rain, making sure to remember that this was what falling in love felt like.
Someday, he’d tell Atlas about this moment. And he hoped, crazy as it was, that Pepper would be there to tell him, too.