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“Well, you’re looking at the day, brother. I’d rather be with her than this cesspool.”
His gaze turned more serious. Something rare for him. “You’ve never been quite so bitter about these fundraiser things before.”
“Yes, Hale, I always have. I’ve just never voiced it because thesethingswere beneficial for business.”
“And they aren’t anymore?” he asked curiously.
“My priorities are different.”
“Your priorities being Betty Mouton.”
“Yes,” I found myself snapping. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” He took the drink the bartender slid his way, and I took mine. “I’ve just never seen you like this over a woman. Let me ask you this.” He narrowed his gaze like he was inspecting a new species. “In your list of priorities, what else would you put behind Betty?”
“Everything,” I answered easily.
Hale laughed, but then his eyes widened. He shook his head knowingly at me. “You’re in love with her.”
And there it was. My heart responded to his words, quickening at the truth laid bare.
As the hostess finally made it up to the stage she’d erected in her giant living room, I told him, “I need some air,” then strode out onto her back patio.
It was lit with white lights around a pagoda, tiki torches all the way down to the bayou behind her house. I caught sight of a familiar silhouette closer to the water, sitting on a wrought iron bench under a heavy oak tree. Pop.
Exhaling a heavy breath, I made my way down to him and took the seat next to him in silence.
“Why are you here?” I asked. This wasn’t Pop’s scene. He preferred his sofa and NCIS to a night out with the Beauville socialites.
“I’d ask you the same thing.” He raised the longneck beer he had propped on his knee to his lips.
I frowned, a little confused since I was always at these things. Rather than clarify his comment, he answered mine.
“Your mother won’t leave me alone,” he added on a sigh. “Wants me to get out and meet someone.”
My chest pinched. Everyone knew how much Pop had loved MawMaw. She’d been gone several years now, but he’d never hinted at wanting to find another partner.
“And you’re listening to Mom?” I teased. Because Pop rarely listened to anyone.
He snorted a laugh. “No. I heard there was free food and booze.”
I laughed. Pop had more money than most people here, but he was always penny-pinching.
We both gazed out at the slow-moving bayou, visible in the reflection of the torches along the bank. My mind wandered back to my conversation with Hale.
“Pop, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
After taking a deep swallow of my Bourbon, I cleared my throat. “What does falling in love feel like?”
He didn’t make light of my question. Or tease me. He took another minute to contemplate, gazing up at the stars in the cloudless night.
“Feels like dying, son.” He turned his head to me, fixing me with that grave expression Pop wore only once in a while. When he wanted me to listen good. “Then being brought back to life again. Both terrifying fear and pure ecstasy in one.”
I gulped hard. “Yeah,” was all I could manage. “I guess it does.”
“Hurts when you’re apart, doesn’t it?”
