The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2) (32 page)

He picked up the force and depth of his thrusts, timing them perfectly to her rising hips. He rose to his knees and drew her legs in a bow around his waist.

Everything in her turned to lava then, and she moaned and tightened her legs around him. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and all she could think was,
thank God, yes.

She moaned brokenly now, her body increasing its speed, matching him. She saw a white light behind her eyes and felt the rush of sensation flash through her as her body clenched around him, only this time more powerfully.

He reared back, groaning, and thrust his way to his climax inside of her. When he collapsed on her, he edged onto his elbows so he wouldn’t crush her. Tammy’s hands came around him, enfolding him and bringing him closer, her caresses scattering the beads of sweat on his back. He whispered her name, just once, and the beauty of the moment was almost too great to bear.

The past was truly gone, and she said goodbye to it as pleasure suffused her every cell.

John Parker took in a ragged breath and rolled to his side. He disposed of the condom and tucked her close. She lazily stretched against him, a sensuous, full body stretch, and it felt marvelous to be naked and sweaty with this man, her body buzzing with a deliciousness she’d never known. He put an arm around her waist, rubbing that curve of flesh with a warm, sweaty finger.

“I never imagined,” she said, feeling gratitude well with her love for him, “it could be so wonderful.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and rubbed their flesh together with such tenderness tears wet her eyes.

“Neither did I, honey. Perhaps there is something magical in our chocolate garden for adults too.”

Since she’d had the same thought, she leaned back to meet his eyes and said, “I have no doubt.”

“Find your answers, honey?”

“Yes. I think this is what people call a revelation.”

“You can’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

He leaned to kiss her, and for a few moments their mouths simply feasted on each other.

They lay on their bed of orchid petals, listening to the night sounds, neither needing to speak until the well of Tammy’s desire rose to the surface again. Hesitant, but with her new wings of confidence, she drew him in for a deep kiss, and soon she was discovering the beauty of their lovemaking all over again.

The monitor remained quiet, so they dozed then. Later, as the moon was disappearing from the sky, they walked back to the house, both quietly speaking their relief that the kids had slept through the night. Inside, they took out the special chocolate John Parker had brought and tucked a piece under each child’s pillow, smiling now.

At her door, he kissed something and pressed it into her hand. “And here’s a piece of chocolate for you too. I’ll see you in the morning, love.”

As she wandered to her bed and lay down, she ate her magic chocolate and tucked her legs under her, as aware of her body as she’d ever been, finally appreciating its rhythms and its incredible power for passion and pleasure.

Yes, there was magic here in this place. The chocolate melted in her mouth, and through its alchemy, she was transformed into something new, something different, something wonderful.

She fell asleep saying a prayer of thanks. Like the children, she’d been healed by John Parker’s beautiful fairy tale, and she slept the short remainder of the night in the peace of newfound innocence.

Chapter 34

The chocolate garden changed their whole world. The kids continued to sleep through the night. Sure, there was some tossing and turning and crying out, but they seemed to be under the healing spell of the magical garden.

Every morning, it delighted John Parker when Rory and Annabelle appeared in the kitchen with grins on their faces and melting chocolate on their hands and mouths.

Every night, it delighted him even more when he and Tammy snuck out to make love in the tree house. And it felt good to laugh at their inside joke each time he sang “Love Shack” to her in the quiet night after their breathing had evened out.

All of the plants in the chocolate garden were taking root. The Hot Chocolate calla lily with its wavy burgundy blooms and the vanilla-scented chocolate cosmos were his new favorites.

Balancing his work with his new family—as he thought of them now—required patience because Annabelle loved to sneak into his office to see what he was doing. She’d hover near his chair as he typed until he stopped working and plucked her onto his lap. Then her newest story would pour out of her mouth, something funny about Barbie or how she was certain she’d finally seen one of the chocolate fairies.

Of course, he’d helped feed her imagination by sprinkling cocoa powder in a couple of places around the chocolate garden, later marveling to her at how rich the magical chocolate dust looked. After that, she’d set up shoe box traps around her room, hoping to capture a chocolate fairy when it brought her chocolate in the morning.

Rory was more circumspect about interrupting him, but if he heard Annabelle chattering away, he’d appear in the doorway. John Parker would make room for him on his lap until Tammy appeared and shooed them from his office. It had taken some doing to convince her their visits were welcome.

Work was work.

Family was family.

He’d always known what mattered more.

They fell into a new schedule. They ate dinner together every night. Soon they were inviting his family over too, and sometimes Amelia Ann would also join them after she got off work.

Welcome news came when Rye called, saying the police finally had a suspect for the break-in. The lead had come from Jolene’s Boating Rentals. Billy Ray Ferry, a former security guard who’d been fired recently for drinking on the job, had rented a boat with cash. Though he’d used a fake name, Jolene had remembered the color and make of his pick-up truck, and after some major tracking, they’d found the truck on a gas station security camera fifty miles out of Nashville, the license plate clearly visible. Billy Ray hadn’t been sleeping at his house, which was filled with pictures of Rye and copies of his albums, so the police assumed he was hiding out, but now they had a description and had released an all-points bulletin for his arrest.

Tammy decided not to tell the kids about this development since they were healing so well. Meanwhile, she started to venture out a few hours each day to meet with clients and subcontractors. The kids were pretty calm about it, content to play with their babysitter and the dogs. The workload for Visionary Gardening was becoming more varied, with some of Tammy’s new clients requesting water features and other types of garden art to dress up their land. Her big score was the Reva Merrifield job, and she’d found a metal worker whose art perfectly complemented her concept for the singer’s gardens. Every time Tammy came home from work, she was beaming.

The magic of imagination and love was transforming them all.

And then Clayton arrived at his door one day, and John Parker knew something was about to interrupt the happy little world they’d formed together. And from the frown on his friend’s face, it was going to be bad. He immediately thought of the burglary suspect. But why would Clayton look so downcast if the man had been caught?

“Sorry to intrude,” Clayton said, but John Parker only opened the door wider to allow him entry.

“You know you’re always welcome,” he said even though part of him, the part that recognized how life-changing his friend’s news would be, wanted to order him out and bar the door.

Clayton rubbed Charleston under the ears when she appeared. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

As they were walking into the house, Tammy emerged from the kitchen, a glass of sweet tea in her hands. Her smile faded, and she said, “What is it? Did they finally catch the intruder?”

Clayton glanced around the house, and John Parker knew he was looking for the kids. “They’re playing out back before dinner,” he explained.

“No, he’s still at large,” Clayton said, “but I’m hopeful they’ll find him.”

“Then is everything okay with Rye?” she asked, her brow knit with tension.

His friend gave her a charming smile, something John Parker had seen him do plenty of times to avoid causing alarm. It was like a lead anchor had been dropped in his belly. If not the suspect, then what?

“Absolutely. I just have some business with John Parker about some songs he’s been writing for Rye.”

John Parker knew a load of horseshit when he heard it. “Let’s head into my office then.”

“Would you like to stay for supper?” she asked.

“That would be lovely, Tammy. Thank you.”

“Wonderful, I’ll just add another plate to the table,” she said. A certain glint in her eyes told him she had unanswered questions, but she left the room.

“Come on, then,” John Parker said, and together, they went to his office. After securing the door, he sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk while Clayton took the other.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“Rye wanted me to tell you this in person since he couldn’t slip away from the tour again. There’s no way to say it, but straight out.”

John Parker braced himself.

“The woman we hired to pump Gunner Nolan about the leak finally hit pay dirt. He confessed that it was a close female relation. After discussing it with Rye, we think it was his mama. She’s mean enough for it, even though we’d all dismissed her as a possibility because we figured she’d be allergic to airing her family’s dirty laundry.”

“Their mama?” he asked stupidly. “But you don’t know for sure.”

“No, Gunner didn’t mention a name. In the meantime, Rye is more pissed than I have ever seen him. Tory, Belle, and I almost had to restrain him from directing his bus to Meade and having it out with his mama right then and there.”

He could well understand Rye’s desire for a confrontation. That kind of betrayal cut so deep no amount of sutures could heal the tear.

“So Rye doesn’t think it could be another female relation?” he asked. As a lawyer, confirmation was everything.

“Who else could it be? Rye’s Aunt Henrietta wouldn’t have been in the know, we don’t think, and Rye vouched for her. As for his cousins? He barely knows them, so their first inkling about the whole mess would have been when the tabloid was released. His mama is the only one who makes sense.”

John Parker knew Rye’s family tree as well as he knew his own after all the years they’d spent trying to bury his friend’s connections to the Hollins clan of Meade, Mississippi. No one else really popped for him either.

“Rye thinks Tammy deserves to know what we do,” Clayton continued, “but he wanted me to ask you what you thought about the timing. She’s been through a hell of a lot lately. Can she take this news right now?”

Her confidence was growing, there was no doubt, but he knew she was still struggling to let some of her old patterns fall away. Still, he couldn’t imagine hiding this news from her—not when she’d told him at Rye’s wedding that she wanted him to stop looking for the leak altogether. He’d promised to tell her when they discovered something, and that they would decide together what to do.

Loving her and respecting her like he did, there was no way he was going to break that promise.

“There’s never going to be a good time for news like this.”

“Amen,” Clayton said. “So are you going to tell her or am I?”

“I’ll tell her after the kids go to bed.” They could discuss it in the tree house, and she could scream or cry as much as she liked after hearing how her own mama had betrayed her.

“Good. I’ll leave early after dinner. Be nice to sleep in my own bed for a change.”

“You flying out early tomorrow morning?” he asked.

“No. Mid-day. Rye is planning on calling Amelia Ann to break the news. He wants me to check in on her since Tammy will have you to comfort her, and he won’t be able to see either of his sisters until he and Tory can leave tour at the next break.”

“You look real excited about that prospect,” John Parker commented, seeing the hard line of his jaw.

“I don’t need to be checking on women,” Clayton grumbled, but John Parker thought his reaction was a bit overblown and wondered about it.

“You don’t much like Amelia Ann, do you?”

His friend shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Rye’s also going to call his daddy to tell him. I expect this will be the final nail in the coffin of the marriage.”

“He was already intent on divorcing her, but I expect you’re right. It’s a damn shame. All of it.”

“Rye’s mama is the coldest bitch I have ever encountered—and that’s saying a lot after my screw up with Amanda Grant. As far as I’m concerned, Margaret Hollins can go to hell.”

“Clayton,” he couldn’t help but say, and he knew it was because of his mama’s own teachings about everyone deserving forgiveness.

“Your preacher’s kid syndrome is showing, J.P., so we’ll just have to agree to disagree. Selling your own kin out is the lowest you can ever go in my opinion, and she deserves to be punished for it. Of course, Rye isn’t planning on stringing her up. He thinks the family knowing what she’s done will be her own personal hell. I’m just not convinced it’s enough.”

He let it lie, since he knew they would never agree on what was just or fair. John Parker couldn’t imagine what would have motivated Margaret Hollins do such a thing, but human beings often did puzzling things, and when they were hurt, they acted in ways that mystified him.

“Let’s go eat supper and set this aside for now. I’ll call Rye after I’ve told Tammy so he can talk to her.”

“Good,” Clayton said, rising and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve heard what you’ve done with the kids here. Didn’t know you had a thing for fairies. How long have you been fantasizing about them bringing you chocolate?”

“Shut up,” he said with a small grin. “You’re just jealous.”

His friend chuckled. “You keep on thinking that, but in all fairness, I’m glad you found something that worked, even if it did involve some bullshit fairy tale.”

Of all of his friends, Clayton’s shell was the hardest, but it was part of what John Parker loved about him.