If You Still Want Me (4 page)

His voice snaps me back and I retaliate with a
light shrug and a kick of my sneaker into the hay-covered dirt.
"Brandon said I should see if ya need any help with the
horses."

"I'm good," Austin looks away, his boots
shufflin' all unsettled like. "No sense in us both freezing our
asses off out here."

His breath is visible, drawing my attention to
his puffy lips. They're a bit glossy, like he's got on Chapstick. I
know his favorite flavor is peppermint. I actually got an extra
stick in my truck, just for him, 'cause he's always forgetting
his.

Glancing back up, I catch his eyes on me. He
looks a bit uncomfortable about the fact that I was staring at his
lips, and it aint the first time I've been caught lookin' where I
shouldn't. Maybe it's my fault then, that our friendship is fallin'
apart at the seams. Guess maybe my sexuality makes him more
uncomfortable than it used to. Didn't think it'd ever be a problem
between us, but maybe that changed when he fell in love with Vickie
and I became competition.

I don't exactly blame him for fallin' in love
with her. She's an incredible woman, and I know I'm lucky ta' have
her. The idea 'a her stayin' in N'Orleans cuts me deep and means I
need ta' have this talk with him, no matter how uncomfortable I've
started makin' him.

"Did Vickie talk to you before she left?" I
start with the easy shit while I strap together my courage for the
rest.

"She did," he nods but turns his back to me and
starts fillin' a feeding trough with oats for Charger, one of
Brandon's four remaining horses. "Said she'd bring me back a
t-shirt."

"She tell you she's thinkin' 'a stayin'?"

He drops the scoop, the surprise obvious. "No.
Why would she do that?"

"Prolly the same reason yer leavin' town. Sick
'a me, I 'spose."

"That aint why I'm leaving," he huffs with a
shake of his head before walkin' into Charger's stall and pattin'
the massive stallion. Austin takes a moment to properly greet the
horse before muckin' the stall, while I lean on a post, watchin'
him work. When he's done, Austin looks at me with both hands on his
slim hips, his height nearly a foot shorter than mine. "I just
thought it'd be best."

"For who?" I scowl at his back as he moves on to
the next horse, a pretty golden mare named Amber.

"Everyone," he shrugs as he opens her gate.
"Brandon's been looking after me too long, and-"

"He likes havin' you around!" I yell, spookin'
Amber a bit, but damn me, I can't stop it. "Stop bullshitin' it,
Austin. Yer leavin' cause 'a what I walked in on!"

His hand fists around the
feed-scoop as he spins around to face me. "You didn't walk in
on
anything
!"

His yellin' back startles me a bit, along with
the other horses. Austin never yells - he's always calm and easy,
like a friendly breeze. Now, he's flustered like a damn
tornado.

"I know what I saw." I fall back on that
argument 'cause it's easier than tryin' to figure out what he an'
everyone else keeps tryin' ta' tell me. "You told me you love 'er,
and I seen yer hands all over my naked woman!"

"We were just dancing, Saul, I swear. I do love
her, though, and I won't apologize for that, but-"

"So, yer in love with my girl, and now yer
leavin' and weren't gonna even tell me? Thought we was best
friends."

"We are," he sighs, rubbing his hands up his
face, talking off his hat with one hand so he can run the other
through his thick, black hair. "And that's why I'm leaving. I can't
keep getting in the way, man. What you and Victoria have - I can't
be the destroyer of that."

"Then don't be. I get it, Victoria's beautiful
an' you wanna sleep with her, but-"

"No, I don't."

My mouth hangs open as my brain tries to get
around what he just said. "Pardon?"

His eyes gaze up at the ceiling as his head
tilts back, and I swear he's about ta explode all over me. A few
Spanish words mutter past his lips, then his gray-blue eyes lock on
me. I nearly fall to my knees under the weight 'a that stare.

"I love her, Saul, but it aint like what you're
thinking. Yeah, she's beautiful, alright, but I'm not sexually
attracted to her."

"Oh." Well, what the heck am I supposed to do
with that? "Alright, then what's the damn problem? Why not just
tell me that in the first place so we can go back to the way it was
before?"

"I can't," he exhales, and the hurt on his voice
stabs into my chest. "I'm sorry, man. I've been trying so damn hard
to ignore it, but I just can't anymore."

Now, I'm completely fuckin' confused. "Ignore
what?"

He looks at me for a long moment, like he's
gonna say somethin' important, but I see fear in his eyes followed
by anger. Then, nothin'. His whole face goes blank. It chills me
right to the marrow.

"Never mind." Turning back to Amber, he shuts me
out. "If you're done yellin' and scarin' the horses, I've got a
shitload of work to get done."

I think I just got my answer.
He
does
have a problem with me and
the way I keep lookin' at his lips. And his eyes. And that fine,
tight ass.

Fuck
. I done screwed
this up. Guess maybe that's what Vickie was tryin' to make me see;
that I was attracted to him and had started makin' him
uncomfortable. Come to think on it, I wasn't just mad about
catchin' his hands on her. If I had ta' be honest with myself, I
guess I was a bit mad that he was with her and I wasn't
invited.

That's about the most screwed up thought ta'
ever fill my head, and trust me, I've had plenty 'a fucked-up
thoughts. Backpedaling outta the barn 'fore I say something stupid
or start starin' at his ass again as he bends with the shovel, I do
what I always do when a situation don't exactly seem ta' be in my
favor.

I tuck tale an' run.

Coming back to the Big Easy is always anything
but. Don't get me wrong - I love my family, but saying I'm the
black sheep is like saying Creole food is spicy. It simply is what
it is, and there's no changing it, no matter how hard my daddy may
try.

My step-father is a good man. He loves his
family, he loves God and he loves me, even though I'm not his. The
way he saved my momma and me from my real daddy, who I haven't
called father or spoken to since I was fourteen and whose last name
I no longer use, leaves me no room to argue that I owe my
step-father a great deal.

Despite me not being
his
, he's never treated me different than
his other children - the two girls he had with a previous wife who
passed, and the son he had with my momma. He just wishes I was a
little more like my two sisters, both of whom have settled down in
Louisiana with nice, church-goin' men and popped out a gran-baby
each. Tabitha even has a second baby on the way, but she always was
an over-achiever.

Don't you want to find you a nice, faithful man?
Settle down into a nice life? Have a baby, or three?

Those were his words to me five months ago when
I last visited for his birthday. I know he means well, but I wish
he'd see that I'm thirty, not looking for marriage, not looking for
kids, and I'm happy in Dallas.

Mostly.

I wish Saul and Austin would stop being so
stupid around each other, but I can't force it. If I do, it'll go
wrong. Austin's got to do this himself. He needs to own-up to who
he is, or he can't ever give his all to what Saul and I have. Saul
deserves that, and he also deserves what I'm trying to do for him.
For them both. For all three of us.

I'm all Saul has ever known, but I've seen those
unspoken desires in his eyes when he looks at Austin. I've seen
what he won't admit to himself. I love Saul with all my heart, but
I don't want to become a regret. I don't want to be what's holding
him back. I don't want to be what my real father was to my momma
for all those years - an invisible noose around her neck, slowly
choking the love and joy right out of her soul.

Threading my way past baggage claim, I step
outside with my single carry-on in hand to flag down a taxi. My
raised hand slowly lowers as a familiar smile catches my eye. Damn.
My half-brother Joseph looks more and more like his daddy every
year.

"Well, afternoon Miss Harris," he smiles at me
with that big, toothy smile the rest of him never quite grew
into.

With a laugh at his cardboard placard as he
stands outside his sedan like it's a limo, I hug his tall, lanky
height. He chuckles back with his geeky little snort, then takes my
bag. I stick my nose in the air, playing along. "Why thank you,
good sir."

"Sorry, ma'am, but my uniform is at the
cleaners," he says all stiff while opening the passenger door for
me.

Joseph has always been the
joker. I think it might come naturally as a defense mechanism since
he's the youngest. Ruth, Elijah's middle child, is the sweet one,
while Tabitha is the mother hen. I've already mentioned my
particular role.
Baa
.

After he closes my door for me and hops into the
driver's seat, we share a smile. Black sheep I may be, but Joseph's
knack for mischief had forged a strong bond between us in our
little patch-worked family. "Thought you'd be back to school?"

"No, ma'am," he shakes his head as he pulls out
into traffic at the busy terminal. "Got me another week before I
head back to Ruston."

"Stop callin' me ma'am. I'm thirty, not
sixty."

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, and I sock him good on
the arm. "Ow! I see that fist of yours still works just fine, even
in your elder years."

The laughter dies slowly as he concentrates on
getting into the correct lane on the highway. Once we're on the
road, the silence becomes uncomfortable, but he ends it before I
can open my mouth. "We missed you at Christmas. Pops was a bit
heartbroken."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Was a nice Christmas. Wait till you see Tabi -
she's gonna push that baby out any second. The church service was
good. We laid a wreath down at momma's stone, and one for Ruth and
Tabi's momma in spirit, too. Pops wished you were there. We all
did."

I let out a slow, tight
breath.
This
is the real reason I
wanted to catch a cab. "Joseph-"

"I know, I know," he sighs softly with a smile.
"I'm only trying to get you ready for the guilt trip that's about
to be set upon you by Saint Tabitha."

"On the warpath again, is she?"

"All her hormones have her barkin' out orders
while the rest of us try to keep our heads down. Poor Jerry. Damn
fool didn't have a bit of understanding what he was in for,
marrying Queen Tabi."

"Of course not," I laugh. "Daddy had her all
dolled up like a sweet, peaceful Sunday choir girl. Now she's the
rooster of her roost and Jerry loves her for it."

"He does. Speakin' of Pops dolling his
baby-girls up..."

Uh-oh
. "Please, for the
love of God, don't tell me there's a boy waitin' at Daddy's house
for supper?"

Joseph goes deathly silent. He doesn't even
breathe for a good twenty seconds, then it all bursts out in a
boisterous laugh. I curse, tempted to jump out of the car as we
exit the interstate.

"Who is it?" I don't want to know, but I better
prepare myself for yet another one of Daddy's attempts to set me
up.

"Samson, one of the deacons. Older man, round
'bout forty."

"Forty?!"

"Well, you didn't like the younger men Pops
tried last time, so he says he thinks you want someone older."

"Forty?!" I repeat, stuck on that as Joseph
laughs at my expense. "Am I supposed to be his Delilah?"

That makes Joseph laugh so hard he nearly misses
a stoplight. As I simmer next to him in broody irritation, he
slowly swallows in a calming gulp of air. "Sorry, Tori. You know I
only laugh because I know that poor man don't have no chance with
you. Pops don't mean no harm, either."

"I know. I just wish I could
have
one
visit with him without him
playing matchmaker."

"Well, then you should tell him 'bout Saul and
put his mind at ease."

"He knows about Saul," I huff. Joseph glances
over at me with one eyebrow raised, just like Brandon does, and I
catch myself squirming in my seat.

"He don't know everything, so he thinks that boy
is playing you wrong. It's why Pops keeps trying to find you
someone else. You should be honest with Pops. You're his princess,
you know. He'll accept it for what it is."

But I don't really know
what
it
is anymore, so I try
turning the conversation back around on him. Two can play this
game. "I'll come clean to Daddy if you do."

Joseph winces. It was a low blow, and I know it.
Our secrets are another reason we're so alike; so close.

"I can't yet," he sighs. "I'm not ready to have
that conversation."

"What happens this summer after you finish
college and Daddy starts bringing nice church girls around to
introduce to you?"

His long fingers tighten their grip on the
steering wheel. "I've been trying not to think about it,
thanks."

"It's family tradition," I smirk, happy to see
him squirming instead of me, but I understand his anxiety. "What
happens when you meet someone? Someone serious. Someone you want to
introduce to the family."

He closes his eyes for a split second and I know
that look. "Oh my God, you've met someone? When? Who?"

He side-glances me before pulling into Dairy
Queen. Stopping at this Dairy Queen has become a bit of a tradition
for us when we're both in town. It lets us catch up over
double-dipped soft-serve before we have to face the Harris-family
choir.