Legacy of Love

Chapter 12





The streets of Atlanta were teeming with Saturday night diners and partygoers. Rather than spend half of their evening hunting for a parking space, Jackson parked in a nearby municipal garage and they walked the two blocks back to the restaurant.

“I love Mary Mac’s Tea Room,” Zoe cried when she realized where they were going. “I haven’t been here since I first moved to Atlanta.”

“This will be my first time. I heard it was great.” He opened the door for her. “I made reservations for the Skyline Room. They have a piano player tonight.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Good evening and welcome to Mary Mac’s. Do you have reservations?” the hostess asked from behind the podium.

“Yes, two for Treme.” He placed his hand at the small of Zoe’s back.

Zoe felt her insides quiver. The heat of his hand scorched her skin. She drew in a sharp breath and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as they were led to their table.

After the waitress seated them she ran through the house specials then took their drink orders. Zoe ordered an apple martini. Jackson opted for Rob Roy on the rocks.

“When we walked up, you said you came here when you first moved to Atlanta.” He tilted his head to the side. “Where did you live before you moved here?”

“New Orleans. Born and raised.”

Jackson’s skin tingled. “New Orleans?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She opened the menu.

“So was I.”

Zoe’s gaze lifted. “What?”

“I grew up in New Orleans. I only moved to Atlanta a little more than a year ago.”

Zoe blinked back her surprise. “And we had to move all the way to Atlanta to meet each other. How crazy is that?”

“No crazier than anything else that’s happened since we met.” He leaned forward. “I don’t know if you feel it, but ever since that day of the fire when I saw you for the first time, it felt like it wasn’t the first time. I mean…”

“I know exactly what you mean,” she said, with a lilt of surprise in her voice.

His eyes creased at the corners, studying her face seeing if he could discover the truth there. Was she simply humoring him or did she really believe what she’d said?

“It’s been like that for me, too.” She swallowed. “I can’t explain it.” After the words were out of her mouth she couldn’t believe she’d said them to a man she barely knew. But you do know him. He’s always been there. Waiting for you. It was her grand mother’s voice in her head as clear as if she were sitting right beside her.

Jackson’s mouth lifted in a slow smile. His eyes moved leisurely over her face before reaching across the table to take her hand. He ran his thumb over the smooth surface of her knuckles sending tremors scurrying up her arm.

The waitress returned with their drinks, but the connection between them wasn’t broken. They barely noticed her and absentmindedly ordered the house special.

“Where did you grow up?” Jackson asked.

“On Montiere,” she said, her Creole accent creeping in. “The big white house on the corner.”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “I used to ride by there on my bike as a kid. Always wondered who lived in that big old house.”

“That was us. The Beaumonts. House was handed down from one generation to the next.”

“Who lives there now?”

“My mother, and her sisters and my grandmother. All women all the time,” she said with a light laugh.

He rested his arms on the table. “Tell me about your family.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

“Why don’t you go first?” she challenged.

He reached for his glass and took a short swallow. “Okay. Let’s see. I have a twin sister. Her name is Michelle and I have an older brother, Franklin. We lost our parents about eight years ago…one after the other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You met my niece, Shay. Basically, we’re your average family. My parents worked hard. My dad worked for the railroad. My mother was a teacher.”

“You took after her.”

“Yeah, I think I did.”

“Did you always like art?”

“For as long as I can remember. I thought I would be an artist, but I’m really not that good. Michelle was the one who convinced me to get my degree and teach.”

“Why did you leave New Orleans?”

He glanced away for a minute. So far the conversation had been pretty normal, the kind most couples have on first dates. If he told her the real reason why he’d broken up with his fiancé, left all his friends and family behind because of a feeling he had and dreams he’d dreamed, she just might get up and walk out.

“Let’s just say that I didn’t think I could find what I was searching for back home.” He roamed her face with his eyes.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, holding her breath in anticipation. “My future.”

The moment gently held them.

“Do you think you’ll find your future here?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“It’s beginning to look that way. What about you? Why did you leave the Big Easy?”

She chuckled a little. “To get away from the burden of family expectations.”

“Hmm. Family is usually the hardest on you.” He slowly turned his glass on the table. “What did they want you to do that you were dead set against?”

Fulfill their lives, fix the past, be responsible for things that she wasn’t a part of. But saying that would make her sound selfish. She wasn’t. She loved her family. But what they wanted from her, what they expected from her frightened her.

“Oh, the usual,” she said, blowing it off. “Settle down, marry and have a bunch of kids.”

“I would think you could manage that with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind you.”

She shrugged slightly. “I wanted my own life, to live my own dreams. Not someone else’s,” she added, the passion of her conviction strengthening her voice. “Have you?”

“I’m still working on it,” she conceded. “But I believe I’m moving in the right direction.”

The waitress returned with their dinner and they spent the next half hour savoring the delicious food in between sharing some of their favorite recipes.

“No one can make peach cobbler like my Nana Zora.”

Jackson wagged his fork at her. “Hands down I make the best chili this side of the Mississippi bar none.”

“Really?” She cocked her head to the side. “I’d take bets on that one, mister.”

“Say what. You?”

“Yes. You better believe it.”

“Sounds like a showdown to me.”

“Whenever you get up the nerve.”

“Ohhh.” He slapped his palm against his chest, and chuckled hard. “It’s like that?”

“All week including Sundays,” she tossed back loving the banter.

He leaned forward. “I’m ready when you are. You name the time and place and I’m there.”

She curved her mouth to the side and narrowed her gaze. “Hmm. Two weeks from Sunday. My place. Noon.”

“Don’t be late.”

Zoe cracked up.

The waitress came and cleared away the plates and offered a dessert menu.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Zoe said and handed the menu back.

“Nothing for me, either. You can bring the bill, thanks.” He leaned back in his seat totally relaxed, totally captivated by Zoe and he didn’t want the night to end. “It’s still early. You want to do something? Maybe go listen to some jazz? Take a walk, see a movie?”

“Hmm. It is early. I wouldn’t mind taking a walk.”

“A walk it is.”

The waitress returned with the bill and Jackson handed over his credit card.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Zoe said, getting up from her seat.

Jackson jumped up and pulled out her chair. As he reached around her she turned and found herself in his arms, the swell of her breasts pressed against the wall of his chest.

Zoe’s breath caught and she fell into the depths of his eyes, which seemed to engulf her. She inhaled the totally male scent of him that went straight to her head, jumbling her thoughts and for a moment she’d forgotten why she’d gotten up or where she was going.

“I’ll wait for you up front,” he said, his voice thick and low.

She wet her lips with a slow dance of her tongue. “Be right back,” she managed. She stepped around him and her thigh brushed against the rise of his erection. A tremor shot through her and piqued the tiny bud between her thighs. She heard the almost imperceptible groan rumble deep in his throat as he sucked in air through his teeth. Or maybe it was her moan that she heard and silently prayed that she wouldn’t do something silly—like trip over her feet before she could get behind closed doors and pull herself together.

Once inside the ladies room she dared to breathe. Her heart pounded and she felt flushed. “God.” Her eyelids fluttered as she relived the feel of him against her. Just for an instant and her entire mind was in a knot. She stared at herself in the mirror, certain that she was going to see a new face, a new person. But she didn’t. Yet it was her and not her at the same time. She looked the same on the outside but inside she felt different, as if a switch had been turned on and her body was charged with electricity.

Her hand shook as she took her lipstick out of her purse and reapplied the soft coral color. “I hope you’re right, Nana,” she said to her reflection. “Because I think I might be willing to open my heart this time.” She dropped her lipstick into her purse and headed back out.