“You don’t have to look ashamed,” Roland says. “It’s okay to miss her.”
“I don’t want to miss her.”
“Why not?” Jillian puts her head on his shoulder, and he kisses her hair.
I stroke her baby back. “Because she left me here… with Gavin.”
“She left you with the sisters in an orphanage.” We sway side to side as the piano takes over the melody. He hesitates, thinking. “But you’re right, you ended up with Gavin. Because he loved her. As sick as she was, she was still so beautiful, and when she died, he promised to take care of you.”
“A promise he did not keep.”
“Maybe… he gave us a place to live, food, work.”
My eyes widen, and my voice rises. “He was a pervert and a criminal.”
Mark appears almost immediately, putting his hand on my back and touching my cheek. “You okay?”
I give him a nod, calming my breathing.
“Let me have her.” He lifts our sleepy daughter out of Roland’s arms and carries her to the courtyard.
“Shh…” Roland puts his hand on my waist, finishing the dance. “You misunderstood. I’m not defending him. I’m defending her. Those days were difficult, especially living on the street. You were a little girl, and your mother had to do what she could to survive, to feed you.”
My teeth clench, and I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about the past today.”
“I understand. When you do, I’m here.”
The song ends and we break apart. Just before he drifts away, I catch his hand again. “Wait. I wanted to thank you. For everything.”
He touches my chin and smiles. “It’s what I do.”
Walking away, I imagine he’ll be looking for any chance to sit in with the band before long. I feel our early morning wakeup combined with mimosas and good food catching up with me. I wander out to the courtyard where my husband swaying side to side, our little girl asleep on his shoulder.
My chest fills at the sight. “Shall we head home, Mr. Fitzhugh?”
I lean my head against Mark’s shoulder.
“As beautiful as that dress is, I’m ready to get you out of it,” he says, and the rumble in his voice heats my panties.
“I’m ready for you to take me out of it.”
His blue eyes darken. “I’ll get the car.”
23
Love is a verb.
Mark
We found our uptown cottage less than a week after returning from Seattle.
It’s actually a converted duplex tucked behind a large garden district home facing St. Charles Avenue. We’re close to the river and the streetcar lines—as well as two universities. Lara has sent applications to both, and while she still wants to sing with Roland, she’s going to get a degree in the meantime.
My application to join the NOPD was quickly approved, thanks to a glowing referral from my senior officer in Alaska. My rank and status increased swiftly as I discussed my experience, and I was added to the mayor’s special task force on drug and sex trafficking.
Being familiar with the underworld gives me special insight when following leads and tracking down criminals. In my first month on the job I’ve been able to shut down a number of storefronts running drug rings and money laundering operations.
The only case I haven’t closed is the disappearance of Reese Landry. We never found a body, but we also never heard from him again. Armand and Roland are convinced he wandered out into the night, got lost in the delta, and died from his wound or blood loss.