Hurricane (22 page)

“We can do that.” Keenan smiled, pleased they were making future plans.

Julianne making plans for the three of them made warm feelings fill him. Since Rissa was in the same class as his niece, he knew that she was in advanced studies. From the little interaction he’d had with her the day they’d rollerbladed, he knew she was smart. He made a mental note to brush up on his poetry. He enjoyed reading, too, but hadn’t read any poems in a while.

Julianne led him into the living room. They stopped in the doorway. Rissa was sitting on the couch reading a book.

“Rissa, he’s here.”

Rissa glanced up and smiled. She jumped off the couch and ran to him. She stopped just before him.

“Hi, Mr Callaghan,” Rissa said.

Her smile was just like Julianne’s.

“Hello, Rissa.” He put out his hand.

Rissa glanced at it, then pulled her braid over her shoulder and played with the edge. She cocked her head to the side. Keenan stifled a smile. It was the same thing her mother did. He waited to see what she wanted to say. Rissa made a ‘come here’ gesture. Keenan crouched. Rissa reached out and ran a finger down his nose. Keenan steadied himself, almost losing his balance.

“Mom said that you do that for people who are special to you. She said it was okay for me, too, since you’ll be special to us.” Rissa bit her lip.

“Your mommy is right. And you both are very special to me.” Keenan smiled and moved his finger along her nose.

Rissa giggled. Keenan stood. Julianne put her arm around his waist and he put his around hers.

“So, are you ready for some bowling?” Keenan asked.

“Yes. But I haven’t done it before. Will you show me how?” Rissa asked.

“It will be my pleasure,” Keenan said.

“Good. Let me put my book away.” Rissa ran back to the couch and grabbed her book.

She left the room and Keenan glanced at Julianne. She cupped his cheek, and he kissed her.

“Kissy face!” Rissa cried.

Keenan pulled back. Julianne held him, kissing him again, then released him. She winked and turned to her daughter. Julianne bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

“Now you’re part of the kissy face, too.”

“Mom,” Rissa said, wrinkling her nose.

Keenan laughed. They went to the door and got on their way.

In the truck, Keenan said, “Your mom mentioned you like Christina Rossetti. I loved her poem
Goblin Market
. Have you ever read it?”

“No. Mom says I’m not old enough to yet. Maybe, since I’m not allowed to read it, you can tell it to me.”

At her statement Keenan thought of the poem and realised it was too mature for Rissa. He glanced at Julianne and noted she was looking at him with a slight smile on her face. Keenan waited for her cue on how to handle it. When she inclined her head he took that as meaning he should do as he chose. Having been around his own nieces, he knew how to reply.

“Uh-huh… I know what you are trying to do.” He looked at her briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rissa said, the exact same words and with the same innocent look on her face he’d seen on Julianne’s, when she knew she’d been caught getting up to mischief.

“You do know. Trying to get me in trouble by going against your mom.” Keenan met her gaze again then stated firmly. “That’s not cool.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Callaghan.” Rissa’s look of contrition was also like her mom’s. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Julianne turned to look at Rissa. “But you know what this means.”

“Yes. Another year before I can read
Goblin Market.
At this rate I’ll be in college before I get to read it.” Rissa sighed.

“You keep asking and know the rules when you do.” Julianne turned to Keenan and explained, “Since I won’t let her read it she’s been asking a few people if they know the poem since she started reading Rossetti. We have a deal—whenever she asks it’s another year until she can read it.”

“What was the age you told her she could read it?”

“Originally I told her next year, when she turns nine. What age is it now, Rissa?”

“Seventeen.” Rissa sighed again. “I keep forgetting and asking about the poem.”

“You didn’t forget. You’re like your mama and just plain impatient.” Julianne laughed.

“Yeah…I am. It’s not nice you tricked me, Mom. You knew I would ask and the time would be more.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Julianne replied and her expression was innocent.

He glanced at Rissa and saw her roll her eyes. “I say that too, with the same look, and you always tell me you’re not buying it.”

“But you’re not me, Rissa. You won’t doubt your mama, would you?” Julianne fluttered her lashes at Rissa then turned to Keenan, a wide grin on her face.

“Yes I would, Mom.” Rissa was adamant.

“My kid is so smart. Keenan believes me. Tell her, Keenan.” Julianne gave him the ‘I’m not up to anything’ look.

“With that expression on your face—nope, I’m with Rissa.” He exchanged a grin with Rissa.

“Ganging up on me already. What’s this world coming too when a woman can’t convince her child and boyfriend she is innocent?”

“That she needs to practice her innocent look.” Keenan chuckled.

Julianne and Rissa joined him in the laughter then they all continued to banter back and forth. Soon Rissa asked him, “What other Rossetti poems have you read?”

“I’ve read all her poems.” Keenan thought of them and picked one that would be appropriate for her age. “Have you read
The Rainbow
or
Dream Land
?”

“I know both. They are wonderful, but
Dream Land
is sad. Do you know the words to
Dream Land
?”

“I think I do. They go…”

Keenan started to recite it. He stopped, not knowing it all. Rissa picked it up, saying the words. He was impressed. They talked about books they had read and quoted some of their favourite poems. Keenan could tell this was the start of a budding friendship and relationship with Julianne’s daughter.

Julianne put her hands in her pockets. A smile curled her lips as she watched Keenan and Rissa talking as they walked before her. This early the southern end of Couric Park was empty. In about an hour, it would be filled with families and others getting ready to celebrate Labor Day at the Nicolas Amusement Park. The shops on Vinmont Boulevard would also be open and busy as there were many other events being held in Couric Park.

She glanced at the time. They still had thirty minutes before they would have to head out to go to Locke Estate One for the last day of the Locke family gathering. The three-day event, which had started on Saturday, had been even better this year. She glanced up at Keenan, who was still walking slightly ahead with Rissa. It was because of him that it was so special. Rissa had turned out to be a natural at her first bowling experience. They’d had a quiet night in on Saturday, just laughing, talking and cooking. Keenan had spent the night. She’d discussed it with Rissa beforehand, and she was fine with him staying over.

On Sunday, they had got up and spent the day together until they’d had to go to the siblings’ dinner. That day, it had been at Noelle’s house. Her siblings had welcomed Keenan. Although he had never been to the dinner, he was already a part of their circle. Rissa had mentioned to everyone about the fun they’d had bowling. There were already plans in the works for the whole family to go. Some of the more competitive of her siblings and friends had even said they should have teams, with shirts and everything—Keenan was making arrangements for the shirts.

They had spent a lot of time together, so they could reconnect and for Keenan to get to know Rissa. The two of them were already close and she figured it was a matter of time before Rissa asked her about if he would weather the hurricane with them. At the family gathering, Keenan had met her parents and they’d welcomed him. The aunts and uncles had, also, and as she’d introduced him to all the Lockes she’d laughed when he’d mentioned there was no way he could remember all their names.

Keenan touched Rissa’s shoulder and walked back to Julianne. Rissa took a seat on a bench and lifted her book, starting to read. Keenan took Julianne’s hand and led her to the rail of the boardwalk. Once there he let her hand go and looked out at Vinmont Bay as Julianne enjoyed the view quietly by his side.

“Marry me, Julianne.” Keenan’s voice broke the silence.

Julianne glanced at him, shocked. She lowered her gaze and gasped. The pear-shaped diamond ring glittered in the sun. In the centre was a large diamond with smaller cut stones around it and the band was embedded with rubies that went a little down the sides. She raised her face.

“I…”

“Let me weather the hurricane with you and Rissa. Three is stronger than two.”

Julianne glanced at Rissa, then back at him. “You’ve been talking with Rissa.”

“No…why?” Keenan frowned, looking confused.

“No reason,” Julianne said.

“You don’t have to answer me now. I know it might take you time. But when you decide, let me know,” Keenan said.

He closed the lid on the ring.

Julianne snatched the box out of his hand. “I will marry you, Keenan. We’ll weather any hurricane together, as a family. Now put it on me.” She wiggled her fingers.

Keenan took back the box. Opening it, he removed the ring then slid it onto her finger. Julianne cupped his cheek, her hand bearing her new engagement ring. Looking into his light green gaze, she saw her future.

“I love you, Honey Fiancé,” she said.

“I love you, Honey Fiancée.” Keenan smirked.

Julianne laughed and kissed him. Keenan was her future and had her very soul. He was the man who would weather the hurricane with her and Rissa.

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Blackstone Haven: Power of Attraction

Taige Crenshaw

Excerpt

Fear swamped Wesley McCarty as he looked at the date on the newspaper in disbelief.

January twelfth.

He had lost six months of time and had no idea of what he had done. Swearing viciously, he leant back against the couch. He ran his hand over his head. The last thing he remembered was going to bed early. When he woke he was so relived, hell thankful, he hadn’t dreamed.

Wesley looked down at his hands and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God, no blood, cuts, or markings. You’re doing okay, Wes.”

Even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. It was just the beginning of summer when he went to sleep yet when he woke there was snow on the ground. He tried to remember what had happened.

Black waves of pain hammered in his head. He swallowed the nausea bubbling in the back of his throat. He breathed rapidly in and out. The feeling passed. After some time, the pain lessened and he could think.

Oh God, what is happening to me? I’m losing my—

Wesley cut off the thought before it could form. No.
There is a reasonable explanation. There has to be one.

Wesley sat up and pushed the button for the answering machine on the table next to the couch. As the many messages played, he started to shake. By the last one he knew that one of his vague explanations weren’t going to fix this. His friends who were also his business partners would want an explanation. Besides this one, there were times before that he had disappeared for a few hours, or days, and he had easily explained them away. This last disappearance of so many months would only make them question all the other times he had been gone before. He wasn’t ready to answer any questions. He had no clue himself what was going on.

“What am I going to do?”

He slumped deeper into the couch and closed his eyes while he thought up various explanations for his disappearance. None sounded believable enough for his partners to buy.

With a sigh, he opened his eyes. His gaze landed on the tapestry over the fireplace. The profusion of colours of the scenic mountains, waters, and beautiful landscapes was a backdrop to a woman seemingly in the shadows. He couldn’t make out her features, but still got a sense of her happiness and sultry beauty. Her head was tilting back, and she held her body as if waiting for something. When he had received the piece from his friend Ian McIntyre, the note had said it was called Prophecy. Although it should have seemed like a weird name, it somehow seemed to fit.

He remembered the note had also extended an invitation to come to Blackstone Haven.

With a sense of purpose, he stood. He knew where he was going.

You’re running away.
He ignored the voice in his head and continued to look at the tapestry.

The scene called to him.

In a swift motion, he picked up the letter opener from the table, turned, and threw it. It quivered, embedded into the wall behind him.

Shocked, Wesley stared at it. Slowly, he made his way over to it. A feeling of unease swept him as he saw the bug pinned to the wall with the opener. He curled his hand over the handle and tried to pull it out. He couldn’t.

Tugging hard with both hands, he was able to release it. Wesley looked at the letter opener, then at the mark it in the wall.

“What the hell?”

His voice echoed in the emptiness. He glanced around the room that usually gave him comfort. The long, dark brown couches, chairs, and other items he had chosen years ago when he had bought the house seemed to not be the same. The walls were closing in on him.

“I’ve got to get out of here.” Wesley turned quickly and made his way back upstairs.

Three hours later, he was shifting gears in his SUV. The tension in his shoulders and the closed in feeling had eased as he put the city behind him. He patted the head resting against his thigh. A tongue licked his hand.

“Newt, you’re not getting any steak for dinner, no matter how nice you try to act,” Wesley said.

A bark sounded, and he glanced at his copper-red and white Siberian husky, who had sat up beside him. Newton barked again. Her parti-coloured eyes—one brown, the other blue—twinkled with mischief.