When I'm With You. Donna Hill
that she’d brought over the last time she was here. She poured a handful into the water rushing into the tub from the jets. Although she took a shower earlier, the bath would be therapeutic. Almost immediately the scent of soothing lavender filled the room. She stripped out of her clothes, turned off the faucets and sank into the steamy, scented water.
Every muscle sighed in pleasure. She leaned her head back against the lip of the tub and closed her eyes. Alice’s words of advice played softly. She didn’t have the time or opportunity to go down to Louisiana to do a face-to-face with Rafe’s sisters. She’d figure something out. She’d find a way to get them to accept that it was time to let Rafe go and that she would be part of his life and their family.
Rafe disembarked from his Cessna. Flying always filled him with an awesome sense of invincibility. High above the clouds was a feeling that he could not describe. The only thing more thrilling was being with Avery. He smiled. He’d barely been gone three hours and he missed her already.
He thanked the crew, hopped on his motorcycle that he’d left parked at the landing strip and sped home. As he rode with a controlled abandon, the landscape of his life spread out before him. He’d spent years doing just this, racing through life, not taking the time to really see what was in front of him. Sure, there were good times to be had, and he’d never want to go back and change them. But he’d done it all while running on empty. For all the travel, the music gigs, the successes—and failures—and the women, there was a space inside him that none of those things could fill. He was starting to feel whole again from the inside. All the bourbon, reckless behavior, and even the fights with his father were all part of trying to fill the emptiness.
He maneuvered around a slow-moving minivan, resisting the urge to lean in and press the gas all the way down to the blacktop of the highway. He smiled beneath the tinted visor that shielded his face. It was all Avery’s fault. She was the one responsible for his reincarnation.
Rafe signaled for his exit, dutifully followed the flow of cars up the ramp and out into residential traffic. After a short ten-minute ride he pulled into the driveway of his two-story townhouse. The garage door whirred open. He parked his bike inside and entered the house through the door that led to the kitchen. He set his helmet on the granite countertop, tugged off the black leather gloves and tossed them there, as well.
He walked through the kitchen and into the living space to be greeted by the pile of mail that had been slid inside the mail slot of the front door. Scooping up the stack of bills, newspapers and subscription magazines, he absently sorted through half of them, deciding what to keep and what to toss, before dropping them on the end table. And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom.
He wanted to change his clothes first. After that he would get in touch with his producer to set up a meeting about the new tracks, and then check in with Quinten and try to twist his arm into coming to the Big Easy to sit in on a set. He’d bribe him with gumbo. Tomorrow he would go to the office. Although he’d put together a solid team for his foundation, he still needed to show his face and be a presence. Besides, there was something intangibly fulfilling about walking into a building and into rooms he’d envisioned that were now a reality. But it was the good work the RBL Foundation did for the young people of the community that was immeasurable. For all the crazy bull that he’d done in his life, the Foundation at least put a fresh coat of paint over it, and it was certainly an endeavor that he could be proud of.
He pulled on a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants and a T-shirt and then went back downstairs in search of food. Passing through the living room he grabbed the mail he’d tossed on the end table and took it with him to the kitchen.
Although the Lawson family always had a housekeeper, each of the Lawson siblings learned how to cook. And if Rafe had to say so himself, he was pretty damned good. He tugged open the fridge. Milk, eggs, a half roll of salami and something in a plastic bowl that he didn’t recognize. The trick of course was to remember to shop. He pulled open the vegetable bin and grinned with relief at the sight of a green and a red pepper that still had life in them, along with a package of shredded cheddar cheese. Omelet coming right up.
While he wolfed down his omelet, he snapped open one of the major New Orleans newspapers that he received via delivery service. He started at the back of the paper, in the sports section, worked his way forward and nearly choked on his omelet when a picture of him and Avery—taken when he had no idea—with the caption “Rafe Lawson, New Orleans’s most eligible bachelor, engaged to Avery Richards.” There was a short paragraph that followed, announcing the engagement and that Avery was the daughter of Senator Horace Richards. It went on to state that the marriage of Lawson and Richards will redefine the political power couple. The nuptials are scheduled for early summer. No date has been set.
With every word, the knot in his stomach tightened. First of all, where the hell did anyone get their picture? Were they being followed? And most important, who gave the damned newspaper information on his and Avery’s engagement? He slapped the paper down on the counter. Had to be one of his sisters, and he would bet money that it was Dominique. It had her signature all over it.
“Shit.” He pushed back from the table with such force that the stool toppled backward, hit the floor and rolled. He gripped the paper in his fist and stormed upstairs to get dressed. His visit to the family home was going to be sooner rather than later.
Friday nights when the family was in town they generally turned up at the family home at some point. Hopefully tonight would be no different, which would help him avoid having to make a round of house calls. More than likely Lee Ann was in DC with Sterling. And he didn’t think the announcement in the paper was her doing, anyway.
Rafe opted to drive his Audi. As furious as he was he didn’t want to get on the road with his bike. He checked the trunk to make sure his small duffel bag with his “on the road” change of clothing was inside. He unzipped the bag and did a quick check of the contents. Satisfied, he slammed the trunk shut and got in behind the wheel. He had a very strong feeling that tonight would be a three-bourbon evening and driving would not be an option.
Halfway between his home and the family residence Rafe used the voice-activated phone feature and called Avery.
“Hi, darlin’,” he said the moment the call connected.
“Hi.” She yawned.
“Everything good? Sounds like I woke you.”
“Hmm, I guess I really did nod off. Alice fed me and insisted I take a hot bath.” She yawned again. “I thought I was reading,” she said over light laughter.
Rafe chuckled. “Not going to keep you. You need your rest. Just wanted to hear your voice and let you know I got here okay.”
“Sounds like you’re outside or something.”
“Yeah, I’m on my way to the family house.”
“Oh.”
“Plan to talk to my sisters...about the wedding.” No reason to tell her more than that. He’d deal with the mess in the papers.
Alice’s advice rushed to the forefront. “Rafe...babe, I was being overly sensitive. I’m not going to put you in between me and your family. When I come down there next month I can talk to them myself. I know they mean well.”
Rafe ran his tongue across his bottom lip. He couldn’t let it go. It wasn’t in his DNA, but he wasn’t going to upset Avery. “Whatever you want to do, darlin’. As long as you’re happy and stress-free. To me, that’s what’s important.”
“Thanks. Well, say hello to the fam for me.”
“I will.”
“Love you.”
“You, too, cher. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have a good evening.”
“You, too.”
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