Instead of being pleased at his words, she jolted upright and shoved him in the chest, hard.
“What?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because love is forever, and you don’t know how to love beyond the moment. Because I don’t want to be hurt by you again. Because—”
“Hey, Charmaine,” a voice called out from the other side of the screen door.
It must be Charmaine’s date. What bloody great timing!
Charmaine slipped under his arms and headed for the door. He pressed his forehead against the wall and groaned. When he turned, he saw a dude in khaki pants, loafers without socks and a designer T-shirt. He had a receding hairline, which gave Raoul immature satisfaction, but he supposed the guy would be considered handsome by some women.
What bothered him most of all was that Charmaine was going out with him in that dress. She should dress like that only for me.
He pressed his hands into fists and willed himself not to use them on the guy, who was an innocent party in the picture.
“Rusty, I’d like you to meet Jake Theriot.”
The dude nodded at him, a questioning tilt to his head.
“And this is Rusty Lanier.”
“That’s Raoul Lanier,” he corrected. “Charmaine’s husband.”
Theriot’s chin dropped downward, and Charmaine’s chin went up sky-high with indignation.
He picked up his hat and was halfway out the door when he turned. “A bit of advice, Theriot. You can take my wife to dinner or a movie, but if you lay a hand on her I’m gonna have to hurt you.”
“I don’t believe it,” Charmaine called after him. “You are such a dog in the manger.”
“Believe it, babe,” he called back without turning around. Jamming his hat on his head, he added, “And if I’m a dog, keep in mind one thing. I’m your dog.”
The man needs a plan…
Raoul went to Tante Lulu’s house for the family meeting, against his better judgment. But, hell, his judgment hadn’t counted for squat lately anyhow.
And, yes, the entire family was there. Tante Lulu, Luc, Sylvie, Remy, Rachel, René, even Tee-John. Of course, like all Cajun events, food played a big part. As they sat around her kitchen table, the old lady served them pork grillades over cheese grits with sides of collard greens, black-eyed peas, and buttered yams. For dessert she made Peach Crisp topped with vanilla ice cream especially for him because of his love of peaches. He suspected she was buttering him up for something. In any case, he planned to take the leftovers home to Clarence and the gang.
“Okay, what’s yer plan?” Tante Lulu asked him once the table was cleared.
“Huh? What plan?”
“You don’t have a plan?” Luc said.
“How are you going to get Charmaine back if you don’t have a plan?” Sylvie asked, ever the methodical scientist.
“He must have some ideas.” Rachel turned to him, then shook her head at what must have been a blank look on his face.
“Tsk-tsk!” René contributed.
“Maybe you shoulda taken my crawfish advice,” Tee-John said. At Raoul’s frown, he said, “Then again, maybe not.”
“Not to worry. Luc and Remy were in the same predicament at one point, and we helped ’em out.” Tante Lulu beamed at all of them. “With a little help from St. Jude, of course.”
Of course.
“Yeah, but we had to do our Cajun version of the Village People for both of them, and I think that shtick is getting old. We need a new routine.” It was René who was speaking and tapping his chin pensively.
“Are you sure you’ve tried everything already to win Charmaine back?” Sylvie wanted to know.
“I’m really out of ideas,” he confessed. “I even told Charmaine that I would consider her dude ranch/health spa idea, and she wasn’t swayed a bit. I would have even gone for the hunk cowboys. Talk about!”
“Dude ranch?” Luc asked incredulously. “At the Triple L?”
“A health spa?” Sylvie asked with equal incredulity. “At the Triple L?”
“Hunk cowboys?” Rachel giggled, even when Remy nudged her in the ribs. “At the Triple L?”
“I could be a hunk cowboy,” Tee-John boasted.
Then all of them looked at each other and smiled. Except Raoul, who hadn’t a clue why they were all smiling at him.