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Forever With You (Bayou Dreams Book 5) Page 12


  “You’re thinking way too much,” he whispered, his warm breath making her skin flutter. “Stop thinking so much and just let this happen, Leslie. I’ll see you later.”

  And with that he was gone, leaving her with the memory of his sweet kiss to get her through the night.

  Chapter 7

  “Mr. Franklin, you’re needed in the library,” Ardina’s disembodied voice sounded through the PA system.

  Wincing, Gabe gathered the signs he’d just printed and carried them with him to the library. The minute he walked in he spotted Mrs. Roussell, the school librarian, who had graciously allowed them to hold part of this year’s science fair in her sacred domain, waving him over to the circulation desk.

  “You needed something?” Gabe asked.

  She pointed toward the alcove that had the giant tree sprouting books for leaves painted on the wall. It was where the kindergartner’s story time was usually held.

  “There aren’t enough tables for the Earth and Space Science category,” she said.

  “But we set up eight tables.”

  “You’ve got twelve solar systems, Mr. Franklin. They take up twice as much space as the regular science projects.”

  Gabe cursed under his breath. Who knew organizing one little science fair would be such a headache?

  “I’ll try to round up a few more tables. In the meantime, see if we can’t squeeze them a bit closer.” He held up the papers. “I just have to get these signs laminated and on the tables, and I’ll be back in here to help finish the setup.”

  He exited the library and nearly ran smack into Leslie.

  “Whoa there,” she said, catching him by the wrist. “Take it easy, Mr. Franklin.”

  “Sorry,” Gabe said. He took a step back and instantly regretted the distance he’d put between them. “How is your morning going?” he asked. “Have I thanked you already for being here?”

  “My morning is going fabulously, and of course I’m here,” she said. “The PTO always provides doughnuts and coffee for the Science and Social Studies Fair judges.”

  “Thank you for that, too,” he said. “Now I understand why that Lock-In is so important. The PTO foots the bill for just about everything around here.”

  “We are a stellar PTO. We’re the kind of PTO other PTOs envy,” she said.

  “I’ll bet,” he said, laughing at the sass in her voice. “GEMS is lucky to have you all.”

  “Oh, no, you’re the one GEMS is lucky to have,” she said. “At least that’s what your colleagues think.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I heard a few of them talking back there while I was setting up the refreshments in the teachers’ lounge. They’re impressed. They said the science fair has never been so well organized. I do believe you’re making a positive impact on this place, Mr. Franklin.”

  Gabe knew it would be impossible to put into words what it meant to hear her say that. Knowing that he was making a difference was everything to him. Everything. Some mornings, it was the only thing that got him out of bed, recognizing that there was a school full of impressionable kids who needed a role model they could look up to, like he’d had with his own science teacher.

  He was in the position to be a Mr. Caldwell for the two hundred and fifty children at Gauthier Elementary and Middle School. He’d been given the opportunity to be a positive influence in so many lives.

  And he was doing it. He was succeeding. God, that felt good.

  “Mr. Franklin,” the voice sounded over the PA system again. “You’re needed in the music room.”

  Gabe pointed down the hallway. “That’s where the physical and applied science projects are,” he said.

  “Yes, that’s where Cass and Willow are presenting their project. I’ve been warned not to come within ten feet of the room.”

  Gabe took a couple of steps, bringing them closer. “In case you were wondering, I don’t feel the same way.” He lowered his voice. “You can come as close to me as you want to today.”

  The classroom door across from them opened and the language-arts teacher, Jean Gardener, came into the hallway. Leslie jumped away from him as if he was on fire, and a nasty feeling instantly pooled in Gabe’s stomach.

  “Hi, Leslie. Mr. Franklin,” the teacher said as she walked past them.

  “Hi, Mrs. Gardener,” Leslie returned. She waited until Mrs. Gardener was out of earshot before she turned back to him and said, “I’m sorry about that.”

  Gabe lifted a shoulder, the epitome of nonchalance. “Forget about it,” he said. “We have a deal, don’t we?”

  “Gabriel,” she said, her shoulders sagging with remorse. The regret he heard in her voice mollified his disappointment to a certain degree, but it didn’t stop the nausea from churning in his gut. He didn’t like feeling as if he was something she was ashamed of. But he didn’t like seeing the sorrow in her eyes, either.

  “Really, Leslie. It’s okay,” he said, the need to put her at ease greater than his own hurt and anger. “You just have to let me know when I can see you again.”

  Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked up and down the hallway. “I’ll have a few free hours once this school day ends,” she said. “Shayla is taking the girls shopping as a reward for Cass getting through the science fair.”

  “I’ll take it,” Gabe said.

  He wanted to kiss her so damn bad he ached with it, but he knew she wouldn’t allow it. Hell, he wouldn’t allow it. Dating the parent of one of his students was one thing. Kissing her in the hallway was another.

  “Good luck with the fair,” she said.

  “You, too,” Gabe replied. He caught her by the hand before she could walk away. “You know that old abandoned gas station on the west side of Maplesville?” he asked. She nodded. “Meet me there at three-thirty. I promise it will be worth the drive.”

  Several hours later, Gabe and Leslie pulled up to the Abita Mystery House in Abita Springs. The town was known for its brewery, but its off-the-wall museum had been on Gabe’s list of places to visit for months.

  “What are we doing here?” Leslie asked.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, well, I figure a lot of the people in Gauthier never think of visiting this little gem.” He got out of the car and ran to the other side to open her door. “Not a huge chance of us being seen.”

  “Ah, okay,” Leslie said as she alighted from the passenger side. “I could have probably come up with a dozen other places.”

  “But do any of those places have a silver Airstream trailer that was visited by aliens?” Gabe asked.

  He shut the door with his hip and grabbed her by the hand, leading her to the entrance of the museum, which was an old filling station circa the 1950s, complete with the gas pumps. The place looked more like a junkyard than a museum, but at least it had character.

  They strolled through exhibits of eclectic folk art, dioramas of New Orleans city streets and even a house whose exterior was completely made up of thousands of shards of glass. The cleverly titled House of Shards was the first exhibit to elicit a positive reaction from Leslie. At least Gabe thought that was a smile he saw on her face.

  “It’s obvious this isn’t your cup of tea,” Gabe said as they visited Darrell, the half dog, half alligator creature that guarded a collection of random pieces of barbed-wire fence. Gabe had to admit Darrell was a little too strange even for him.

  “I think we’ve found something we do not have in common,” Leslie said. “I am not into old and weird.”

  “Let me just visit the Airstream, and we can leave,” he said.

  She flung out her arm. “Lead the way.”

  “Here it is,” Gabe said, rubbing his hands together as they came upon the silver, bullet-shaped trailer.

  “This is wh
at you came all the way to Abita Springs to see?”

  “Yes!” He knew he had the goofiest smile on his face, but he couldn’t help it. “Do you know the story behind the Airstream and the aliens?”

  “To be honest, I had no idea this place existed until we pulled up to it,” Leslie said. “I’d never even heard of it.”

  “Seriously? You’re not a fan of sci-fi, are you?”

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She leaned in close. “I’ve never seen a single episode of Star Trek.”

  Gabe flattened his palm to his chest. “You’re killing me here.”

  Her eyes glittered with amusement. “Try not to hold it against me.”

  “I promise I won’t,” he said, returning her smile. “It’s just that I don’t know what I would have done without those stories back in high school. They probably saved my life.”

  She tilted her head. “Star Trek saved your life?”

  “Not just Star Trek. David Brin’s Uplift books, Octavia Butler’s Patternmaster series. Once I discovered them, I devoured them. They kept me off the streets. Who knows what kind of trouble I would have found myself in if I hadn’t been introduced to books?”

  He saw the hesitation in her eyes before she asked in a soft voice, “Did you get into a lot of trouble in high school?”

  He huffed out a cynical snort. “Me and trouble? We were best friends,” he said. Gabe shrugged a shoulder as if it was no big deal, when, in fact, outside of Tristan, no one else in Gauthier—in all of Louisiana—knew about his past. “I didn’t get along with my stepdad. Fell in with the wrong crowd. Turned into your typical little punk.”

  “What changed?” Leslie prompted.

  “I got caught trying to break into my tenth-grade science teacher’s car.” Gabe shook his head. “For some reason he thought I was worth saving instead of being sent into the system. He’s the one who introduced me to science and books and everything else that’s made me into the man I am today.”

  Tender understanding shone in her brown eyes. “He sounds very special.”

  “He is,” Gabe said. “We still keep in touch. I talk to him at least once a month. I just wish my baby brother had someone like that in his life.” He looked up at her. “I’m afraid for him, Leslie. I’m afraid he’ll get caught up in that life. That’s why I need this assistant principal position to be permanent. I need to help my family. The extra money that promotion would bring would help me send Elias to another school—a better school.”

  “One with a thousand sci-fi books at his disposal?”

  He caught the amusement in her voice. “Yeah, something like that. Although, I’m not sure I could ever get Elias to read a sci-fi book. He’s more into biographies and boring nonfiction.” He shook his shoulders in an exaggerated shudder. “Not sure where the kid gets that from.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Leslie said with a laugh. “I don’t read sci-fi, but I’m a big reader, too. Mysteries mostly. I love trying to figure out the whodunit before the big reveal.”

  “So we’re both lovers of the written word,” Gabe said, coming to stand in front of her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. “It looks as if we discover something else we have in common every day. And to think you were willing to let something as trivial as our ages come between us.”

  “Silly me,” Leslie said.

  He used her words from earlier. “I won’t hold it against you,” he said, his lips a hairbreadth from hers. He lowered his mouth and, just before kissing her, whispered, “You’ve more than made up for it.”

  * * *

  Leslie twisted the length of twine around the cloth napkin and set it in the middle of the gold-trimmed bone-china plate. She moved the wine goblet a few inches to the left, then went around the table and did the same to the other five place settings.

  “When is Xavier’s family getting in?” she called to Shayla, who was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the Italian cream cake she’d baked for dessert.

  “Their flight gets in around four, but by the time they get through baggage claim, pick up the rental car and drive in from the airport, they probably won’t get here until after six o’clock.”

  “Are they staying at Belle Maison or was Xavier able to convince them to stay here with you all?”

  “Nope, they’re still staying at the bed-and-breakfast. Xavier’s grandfather said he doesn’t want to impede the process just in case the two of us come to our senses and decide to have a baby,” Shayla said with a laugh. She came in to the dining room and her face instantly beamed. “This looks amazing, Leslie. I swear, you need to start your own decorating business or something.”

  “Anyone who knows how to look things up on Pinterest can do the exact same thing,” Leslie pointed out.

  “Do I need to remind you of my last attempt at re-creating something I found on Pinterest?”

  “That’s okay. Kristi told me about the sock puppets you two tried to make. She said the puppet needed to go to the dentist.”

  “She’s right. That poor puppet had the ugliest smile I’ve ever seen. Sewing buttons in a half-moon isn’t as easy as it looks.”

  Leslie laughed as she set a mini wildflowers bouquet at each place setting.

  “Okay,” Shayla said, “What exactly is up with you lately? There’s something different about you. You seem...I don’t know...happy.”

  Leslie’s brows spiked. “Do I normally look unhappy?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. You’re just more...bubbly lately.”

  “I’ll make a note to be more bubbly from now on.”

  Shayla rolled her eyes. “Would you stop it? I’m just making an observation.”

  Leslie hesitated for a moment, before she said, “Okay, if I tell you, you have to promise not to go all crazy on me.”

  Shayla’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”

  Leslie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, then said, “I sort of went on a date. Actually, several dates.”

  Shayla squealed.

  “Shh,” Leslie admonished, pointed to the living room, where the girls were.

  Shayla clamped her hands over her mouth, then lifted them and whispered, “Who? Was it Sawyer Robertson? Please tell me it was Sawyer! The minute I found out that he moved back to Gauthier, I knew he would be perfect for you. You’re the same age. You’re both professionals—”

  “It isn’t Sawyer Robertson,” Leslie said.

  Shayla’s forehead furrowed. “Are you sure it’s not Sawyer?”

  Leslie released a nervous laugh. “I’m pretty sure I remember who I’m dating.”

  “Well, if it isn’t Sawyer, who is it?” Shayla asked, as if Sawyer Robertson was the only man in all of Gauthier that Leslie could be interested in.

  Leslie hesitated for a moment before admitting, “Gabriel Franklin.”

  Shayla’s eyes grew so wide Leslie was sure she would need to manually pull down her eyelids. “As in Cass’s teacher, Gabriel Franklin? The one with the great ass?”

  Leslie nodded.

  “You go, girl!” her sister-in-law said, excitedly clapping her hands. “Good choice.”

  “Be honest, Shayla. You know this is not a good idea,” Leslie said.

  “Why not?”

  “As you already pointed out, he’s my daughter’s teacher, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Let’s not even talk about the fact that he’s a child.”

  “He is not. He may be a little younger than you, but he’s not that young.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type, but if it works, why not?”

  “What’s my type?” Leslie asked, unable to keep the hint of defensiveness out of her voice.

  “Well, you were married to my brother, who was one of the most serious p
eople I’ve ever known. Mr. Franklin seems so much more laid-back.”

  “He is different from Braylon, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it?” Leslie fell into a seat at the table and covered her face in her hands. “God, Shayla, what am I doing?”

  “You’re moving on,” her sister-in-law said. Leslie didn’t resist when she felt Shayla’s hands prying her fingers away from her face. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with moving on, Les, and if the young, hot Mr. Franklin is whom you chose to move on with, more power to you, girlfriend. You could do a lot worse. That tight butt alone should make it all worth it.”

  “What are you doing looking at his butt?”

  “Every female eye in Gauthier has snagged a glimpse at that butt.” Shayla kissed her pinched fingers. “Perfection.”

  Leslie’s head flew back with her laugh.

  Growing up with two older brothers, Leslie had never known what it was like to have a sister. She’d been close to her female cousins, but it wasn’t the same. Braylon’s death had forced Shayla and Leslie to confront their issues. It had not been easy, but the two of them had finally found a place where they were both comfortable in their relationship. Now Leslie couldn’t imagine life without her.

  A familiar pall slid over her. She would have to adjust to life without Shayla if she returned to Houston.

  The pounding of little feet on the hardwood floor drew both Leslie’s and Shayla’s attention.

  “We’ve got the flowers,” Cassidy said, holding a vase filled with Late Purple Asters they’d picked from Shayla’s backyard garden. Kristi held up a bunch of yellow weeds.

  “I liked these instead of the purple ones, but Cass wouldn’t let me put them in the glass jar,” she said with a pout.

  Leslie took the weeds from her hands. “I have the perfect place for them,” she said, taking the mason jars she’d put on the table to hold the dessert forks and putting the flowers in them. “There. Perfect.”

  With her hands on her hips, Kristi turned to her older sister and gave her a haughty nod. Then, with her nose in the air, marched back to the living room. Cassidy just rolled her eyes.