It hadn’t helped. He’d only had more time behind the wheel to think about the precious few hours he’d spent with Celeste, and to think about how barren his life would be without her.
What if they’d permanently exhausted her spirit from that last visit? Had she crossed over completely because she didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore?
He dropped the rake, took off his gloves and flung them away, then saw Nanette’s car heading up the driveway. She slowed as she neared, rolled down her window and cleared her throat.
“It’s Wednesday,” she said.
“Right.” He really wasn’t in the mood for small talk, or even a sarcastic “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Okay. So, it’s the middle of the week, and you don’t look as though you’ve been to work today.” She glanced behind her. “And judging from those piles of leaves, you’ve been raking all afternoon.”
When Dax didn’t comment, or ask her point, she continued, “Well, I’m glad you finally decided to take a day off. You’ve been working yourself to death ever since-well, for the past few weeks.”
“Working myself to death?” he questioned, scoffing at her odd choice of words, particularly when their family dealt with the dead on a regular basis. “Not quite. And I didn’t willingly take a day off. My regional rep ordered me to take the rest of this week and all of next week off to relax. Seems he was tired of explaining why I was showing up twice as often as normal.”
She smirked. “Well, good for your regional rep. But if you’re supposed to be relaxing, you’ve got a funny way of going about it. Why didn’t you wait until we could help you with all of that?”
“Didn’t want to.” He could have said more, but of the things he didn’t want to do right now, talking about Celeste topped the list.
“Fine. Well, I’m going in to start dinner. I had a heck of a day at school, by the way, in case you’re interested. It started with one of the sophomores accidentally stepping on the gas instead of the brake when he was trying to park his car, and sending the thing into the building near my classroom.”
Dax’s eyes widened. “He okay?”
She laughed. “He’s fine. Shook up, but okay. So don’t worry, he shouldn’t be visiting you anytime soon.”
“That’s good.” Dax was glad the boy was all right, but he did hope that he got another ghostly visit soon. He figured it would better his chances of seeing Celeste.
“Leave the piles, and we’ll bag them later,” she said, then drove off.
Dax decided to take her up on that offer. He’d been raking the majority of the afternoon, and he was ready to head inside and cool down. True, it was November now, but in Louisiana, while some months might be cooler, they all fell pretty much under the same classification-hot.
He picked up his discarded gloves and slapped them against his jeans to remove the excess dirt, then he grabbed the rake and started heading toward the work shed behind the house. Rounding the corner of the porch, he stopped walking to take in the scene. Red. Everywhere. His grandmother’s prized poinsettias blazed crimson and towered against the side of the house in a brilliant hedge that would be worthy of a Southern Living cover photo.
Grandma Adeline would be proud. And Celeste would be awed.
“I told Nelsa that when I got married one day, I wanted a Christmas wedding. The bridesmaids would wear red, and they’d carry poinsettias. I didn’t even know they could grow this big, or I’d have wanted to get married in a place where they could surround me, like this one.”
With Celeste’s words echoing in his thoughts, Dax turned away from the poinsettias and continued to the shed. He deposited the gloves and rake, then used the rear entrance of the house. He didn’t want to walk past those poinsettias again.
Nanette stood near the stove and spooned rice into two deep bowls, then covered it with gumbo out of a huge black iron pot. Her smile beamed as she turned. “You cooked, and it smells fabulous.”
Dax nodded. He’d done plenty today to keep himself busy. Cooking the gumbo had only been one small part of it. He’d also started sanding the floor in the front room that used to be a formal parlor. Right now, it was merely another empty room in need of repair. Good thing the place had plenty of them; he’d find an ample supply of work to keep his mind off Celeste. Then again, that hadn’t worked today, had it?
Nanette moved the bowls to the table, then got some drinks from the fridge. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“I need a quick shower first, then I’ll head back down.”
“Well, hurry, before the gumbo gets cold.”
He nodded, left the kitchen and started toward his room, but he didn’t really care if the gumbo was cold. He had no appetite, for gumbo or anything else…except Celeste. His hunger for her was palpable, and quite possibly would never be satisfied.
With that still on his mind, he entered the shower. As each hot droplet of water covered his skin, he remembered Celeste’s trembling hands, her warm mouth, her sweet kisses. It’d been three weeks, and he hadn’t gone one minute of that time without thinking of her. Right now, in fact, he could see her so clearly, the way she’d looked when they’d made love. Those golden curls tumbling wildly around her as her body moved over his, her mouth caressing his neck, nuzzling him as her sweet, hot center accepted every inch of him.
He could almost hear her softly moaning, then those moans turning into sharp gasps as she thrust her hips and brought him deep, deep within her. And he could feel the tensing of her flesh around him, holding him so tight as her climax grew imminent.
Dax bowed his head and closed his eyes as the hot water pelted him. Then he circled his cock with his hand in an effort to reproduce what was happening in his mind. There, she was riding him, fiercely determined to claim every inch of him and to bring him to the same kind of powerful orgasm that was building within her.
In reality, Dax was finally succumbing to his baser needs. Three weeks was way too long to go without a release, and one minute was way too long to go without Celeste.
He thought of her again, of the way those dark eyes closed slightly as she came, and the way her mouth parted in sweet, delicious abandon…and his body tensed, his erection pushed forward as though trying to get inside of the woman in his mind, and his hips jerked in orgasm.
By the time he returned to the kitchen, Nan was rinsing her bowl in the sink. “Obviously, your idea of a quick shower and mine aren’t the same. I assumed you decided to rest for a while so I put your gumbo in the fridge, but I can heat it up if you want.”
“No, thanks,” he said. Unfortunately, even after his climax, he was still only hungry for one thing. Celeste. Her touch. Her smile.
Her kiss.
He sat at the table and reached for the stack of letters in the center. More than anything else he’d done today, he’d read and reread the letters from the attic. He was convinced that he’d missed something. His grandmother had said that he and Nanette would find what they needed in the attic. While Dax knew that the letters would help Nanette with her quest for historical-landmark status if she ever decided to share them with the world, he hadn’t found anything that would help him get Celeste back.
“Still hoping to find something?” she asked, drying her hands on a towel, then sitting next to him at the table. She peered over his shoulder at the letter in his hand and frowned. “I still don’t want to show them to anyone. Maybe we won’t have to.”
“Maybe not,” Dax said. “I do think this is what she intended for you to use, whether you choose to or not. But she said what you and I needed was in the attic. I know she was talking about these letters.”
“Maybe she wasn’t talking about you getting Celeste back. Maybe all she was talking about was the historical landmark status, and she said both of our names because we’re the ones who’ve been doing the most to try to find proof.”