don’t communicate with the Lord.”
“Okay, then we can rule that out.” She sounded relieved but doubtful. “Did something happen to you recently, something that made you think you want me back in your life?”
Frustrated and tired of being grilled, Julien huffed. “Why does something have to happen to make me finally see what I lost? Why is this so hard to understand?”
She got up to come and stand beside him. “I want to understand, Julien. Really I do. Things happened and we just drifted apart. And now you’re back in a big way.”
He’d never drifted, he thought. But she had certainly put a levee-strength wall between them. “We didn’t work at it, did we?”
She lowered her head. “No. We gave up. I gave up. I thought you wanted someone else, or something else, besides me.”
He pulled her close, his hands holding her waist. “I never gave up, Alma. I just retreated. We settled into a nice, uncomplicated truce. But that truce is over.”
With that, he lowered his head to kiss her. Without an audience. His heart opened to her, allowing, asking her to come inside.
He waited and felt her relax against him, heard her almost silent sigh. Her arms pulled around his shoulders, her hands moved up to tug into his hair. Their feelings for each other deepened. He could feel it pouring through him like cleansing water—her acceptance, her forgiveness, her longing. Was this how it felt to be washed in God’s forgiveness?
Finally, Alma lifted away, her eyes wide and bright, her expression both shocked and exhilarated. “I guess the cake worked, then.”
Julien laughed and kissed her forehead. “ Chère, it was more than just that cake, but I have to agree. It was sweet and smooth, same as you, Alma.”
She took his hands in hers. “You still haven’t told me about your mama and Pierre. I want to know. I want to help.”
Julien realized that while he believed in kissing his way home, the way to Alma’s heart involved honesty and full disclosure. She wanted to hear his feelings. She needed to glimpse his soul. Womanly things were always complicated.
He’d held back from that all those years ago, too prideful to be honest. If he’d told her all of his fears long ago, they might have been able to work things out. Or she might have quit speaking to him entirely. Would that do him in again this time?
“Julien, I’m here and I’m listening. You have my attention.”
“Why can’t we just be together?” he said, waylaying the heavy thud of his heart. Manly things were a lot less complicated.
She backed away and already he missed her.
“It’s not that simple,” she retorted as she gathered their cups and took them into the kitchen. “We were together before, remember? But you didn’t like the idea of me having a life, of me leaving Fleur.” She turned, a hand on the counter. “And if I allow this—you being back in my life—it could happen again. I’d settle for staying here. I’d feel obligated to give in and settle down because—”
“Settle?” He stomped close and stared down at her, his own long-held fury radiating as her words echoed his very fears. “Is that what being with me is all about, Alma? Settling?”
She put a hand to her mouth. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just meant—”
“I think I know what you meant,” he said, turning toward the door. “I don’t want you to settle for me or for my way of life. But you’re right about one thing—the same thing that caused me to do you wrong before— that is still between us, for sure. I love my life here, my family, my work. But I guess you’re just hanging around, biding your time until something or someone better comes along and sweeps you right off your pretty little feet.” He stomped back, a finger in the air. “Well, I’m no prince, Alma. I’m not a knight in shining armor. He stopped, inhaled a breath. “Never mind. Just never mind. Maybe I have gone daft, after all, even to hope.”
With that, he was out
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