She inhaled sharply, unable to control her surprise at his statement.
He touched her cheekbone then slid his hand behind her head and pulled her toward him. She rocked against him as he tilted her upward to meet his kiss.
It was gentle, it was soft. In a word, it was exquisite. It shook her to her core.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he whispered against her lips. “It means a lot.”
She smiled as she drew away. “I’m glad you wanted me with you.”
He took her to the banks of the bayou and they watched the catfish surface as if expecting to be fed.
“My mom feeds them every evening,” he explained. “They’re spoiled rotten.”
They continued along the edge as it wound through the rolling terrain of his mother’s property. A rickety dock was situated in the crook of one of the bends, and an old johnboat was tied up. It rocked gently with the ripples of the water. The green paint was faded and peeling. Stenciled with black paint on the side was Roche.
“My father’s boat,” Damon said. “It belonged to his grand-father. Old as Methuselah but it still runs. Mom takes it out every now and again just to keep it going.”
“She misses him too,” Serena said, remembering the sadness in her eyes.
Damon sighed. He turned to face the water and shoved his hands into his pockets. For a long moment he was silent. His lips moved as though he had difficulty forming the words.
“It was hard on her and even harder when I stayed away even though she understood.”
He glanced down at his feet, and his shoulders sagged.
“It was selfish of me and it’s something I regret. They were . . . they were so in love. They were high school sweethearts, and she married him when she was sixteen. Folks around here didn’t give them a chance of lasting or ever amounting to anything, but they proved them wrong. He built this house for mom when she was pregnant with me. I grew up here. It’s the only home I ever knew.”
He smiled and glanced sideways at Serena. “My father made his fortune and retired early. He and mom were supposed to travel. Have fun. Live and love and enjoy life. He died just a week after they returned from a trip to Paris. It was where my mother had dreamed of traveling since she was a girl.”
Serena blinked away the tears that stung her eyelids. “At least they got one last trip together before he passed,” she said.
Damon nodded. “We all had some good times together. For so long it hurt to think about them, to remember life with Dad knowing he wasn’t here anymore. But now . . . now it just feels good to remember.”
She reached out, caught his wrist and pulled his hand from his pocket. She laced her fingers through his and tugged his hand to her side.
They both turned when they heard Jo calling to them. She was standing on the deck waving and motioning them to supper.
“Come on. The gumbo’s not as good when it’s cold,” he said.
“Race you,” Serena challenged even as she took off.
“Cheater!” Damon yelled as he pounded after her.
She would have beaten him to the steps, but just as she made the leap, he plucked her from the air and spun her around in his arms. She shrieked in outrage and he responded by dumping her on the ground and following her down to tickle her unmercifully.
When she was wheezing for breath between peals of laughter, he finally stopped and hauled her up.
“Declare me the victor,” he demanded.
“Never!”
She launched herself up the steps then turned around and did an imitation of Rocky, hands in the air as she danced back and forth.
“Little cheat,” he grumbled as he walked past her to the table where his mom waited.
“Damon always was a poor loser,” Jo said as she grinned at Serena. “He was always the most competitive child. Best at everything.”
“And who did I get that from, pray tell?” Damon said dryly.
“Your father, of course.”
Damon snorted and headed toward the door. “You ladies stay here. I’ll be back with bowls and silverware. Want me to bring out the gumbo, Mom?”
“Please,” she said. Then she turned to Serena. “Would you like wine or tea with your dinner?”
“I’ll have whatever you and Damon are having,” Serena said.
“In that case, it’ll be wine. It’s an indulgence of ours. Even during the two years he was gone, he’d call and I’d sit here on the deck and we’d share a glass of wine and talk on the phone.”
“It sounds like you’re very close,” Serena said.
“He’s my only child,” Jo said by way of explanation.
Damon came back out with bowls and spoons then went back in and returned a moment later with a steaming pot of gumbo.
“Get the rice if you don’t mind. It’s in the steamer. And snag the bottle of wine I have laid out,” Jo said as Damon set the pot down.
She and Serena sat and when Damon returned with the rice, Jo served up the gumbo. Though it was hot and muggy, the gumbo, usually more suited for the cold of winter, tasted delicious.
After dinner, they sat back with a glass of wine and watched the lightning bugs pop over the water. In the distance crickets chirped and frogs croaked. The tree locusts added to the cacophony, but it was soothing to Serena. After so long hearing only the sounds of the city, she was lulled by the tranquility here.
“So how long have you two been together and how did you meet?” Jo asked, breaking the silence.
Serena stiffened and sent Damon a panicked glance. He took her hand under the table and squeezed reassuringly.
“We were introduced by a mutual friend. We’ve only been seeing each other a short time, but I’m hoping to convince her to keep me around for a while.”
Jo smiled. “Smooth-talking bastard, just like your father. And they expect you to fall at their feet for their efforts,” she said to Serena.
Serena laughed, her discomfort passing. “I expect they do. And I’ll admit, it does turn my head. As I’ve told him before, he’s no stranger to pretty words.”
“Lord no. I swear all the Roche men have the lion’s share of charm and charisma. Sometimes you just have to call bullshit, though.” She winked at Serena as she said the last.
Serena chuckled as Damon rolled his eyes.
“If I have charm, it sure as hell never worked on you,” Damon said to Jo. “And it damn sure never got me out of trouble.”
Jo grinned. “You have your father to blame for that. By the time you came along, I was well acquainted with the Roche silver tongue and had built an immunity.”
She turned to Serena. “What about you, Serena? Where are you from and what do your folks do?”
Damon looked curiously at her as well, and she realized that they’d never really talked about her. Or him for that matter, until the trip over. They’d been too busy talking with other parts of their anatomy.
She flushed slightly and looked away from Damon. “I was born and raised in Houston. My dad is retired from an oil company, and my mom still teaches school. I’m an only child as well.”
“Ah, then you and Damon are both likely spoiled rotten,” Jo said.
“I don’t deny it,” Damon said as he sipped at his wine.
“Good damn thing. I’d hate to be sitting close to you when that lightning bolt descends.”
Serena laughed again, enjoying the easy rapport between mother and son. It made her miss her own parents, though it hadn’t been that long since she’d last visited. It was easy to get caught up in work, become too busy to pick up the phone or stop in to say hello. After witnessing Damon and Jo’s grief over losing Damon’s father, she was going to make it a priority to see her folks as soon as she got back. Life was short. Damon’s father’s sudden passing was certainly a testament to that.
“My mom is great,” Serena said, suddenly compelled to talk about her own parents. “I probably was spoiled, but she raised me to be independent. To think and do for myself. She was one of nine children, and the only one to graduate high school. She put herself through college and got her teaching degree. I was always so proud of her. She doesn’t take any shit from anyone.”