“Then let me in. Tell me what you need,” she said as he started to kiss her neck and make her forget about anything but the feel of him against her. “And maybe we should get a dog before we start talking about kids.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” he agreed as he started to work his way down her body. “We’re going to make a great team. You’ll see.”
She would have said something else, but his mouth found her core and she couldn’t talk anymore.
She sighed and relaxed and let him prove that in this—at least—they were already a great team.
chapter eight
Rene stirred awake, the early morning light starting to filter through the filmy curtains. He’d slept better than he had in years despite the fact that the storm had kept up unabated late into the night. It might have had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t slept alone.
After they’d made love for a second time, he’d gotten up and built the fire he’d promised her, and Sylvie had put together a dinner that should have been terrible but had tasted good simply because she’d made it. They’d sat by the fire and he’d talked about what was going on at the office. He’d meant to keep her out of it, but she’d been firm that evening. She wanted to be a full partner, and she wouldn’t take anything less. So he’d told her about the suspicious bids and how they were losing long-term clients by pennies. He’d told her how he was certain there was a spy in his office, and that it might be his actual family members who were conspiring against the company that had taken care of them for years. She’d listened and then hugged him tight, and he’d realized that maybe he didn’t have to be alone in this.
How long had it been since he’d confided in someone he trusted? He didn’t talk to his mother about the company because she’d always said she didn’t want to hear about work. Work, she’d claimed, was the one thing that could turn his father into a bear, and she shouldn’t have to put up with that.
He needed to realize, despite years of conditioning, that Sylvie wasn’t his mother and never would be.
He stared down at her for a moment, taking in how lovely she was in the early morning light, taking in her gentle curves.
He had to convince her this could work, that he was a good bet, because he was fairly certain he didn’t want to go back to life before Sylvie.
He stretched and decided to let her sleep. He’d kept her up for a long time the night before. He found an old pair of sweatpants and dragged them on before heading into the kitchen to take a quick inventory. There was instant coffee, but he would need hot water for that to work.
He couldn’t even make her coffee because Charles was an asshole.
He would go and get the boat ready and take her to breakfast. He hoped someone was at the marina this early in the morning, because both of their cell phones had died in the night. His mother was likely worried, and she would have called Sylvie’s mom, who would have started talking to the spirits to find them. But only after she called the sheriff, because Momma Marcelle believed in covering all the bases.
He would steal some coffee from the marina because his wife liked her coffee in the mornings. He made sure she had a big mug before she walked out the door because she could be a bear before her coffee.
Of course he found that side of her cute, too.
The sound of a board creaking caught his attention. It sounded like something was on the porch.
He moved into the living room, not too worried because the cabin was old and things creaked, but he wanted to make sure there wasn’t a critter waiting to welcome his wife. Sylvie wouldn’t faint at the sight of a wild animal, but she also wouldn’t be happy if Otis decided to bask on the porch. He would have to shoo the big guy away.
The curtains were closed, but he could plainly see a shadow move across the window, and it wasn’t a critter.
Unless that damn rougarou that had everyone up in arms was real and walking across his porch. A chill went up his spine because the figure didn’t stop at the door to knock. The shadow knelt briefly and then stood again, walking back the way it had come and disappearing from sight.
He moved across the living room and threw the door open in time to see someone in all black make the turn around the side of the cabin, going back toward the waterline.
“Hey,” he said as he came through the door and started across the porch. There were several small islands out here and families who lived on them. “Do you need help?”