The Road to Bayou Bridge. Liz Talley

I right? Was I the only one who wanted us on a forever kind of basis?”

      His words made her bleed. She had thought what they had was real but hadn’t held on to that conviction. She could blame the drugs and her mother, but maybe her love for Darby hadn’t been strong enough to weather what happened. Perhaps, he’d been the one to face the world, chin out, daring someone to separate them...and Renny had been the one to fold.

      Or maybe she’d folded because she’d believe his father’s words when he’d come to see her.

      Darby wanted to marry you because it defied me. You understand this, don’t you, Renny? It wouldn’t have worked out, because that boy has never faced any person or thing he couldn’t have or manipulate...including you.

      And there had been truth in Martin Dufrene’s words.

      Whether she’d given up or had her love ripped from her, her dream of being with Darby had died. And either way, she knew they wouldn’t have lasted. With Darby, she’d always felt like the other shoe was about to drop.

      She’d never been good enough for a Dufrene.

      Her voice sounded froglike when she said, “I thought I wanted forever. I did. But things were so skewed...so backwards. I needed to be strong, but my body and my heart were broken. You weren’t there. It was easy to believe you’d abandoned me and moved on. It was easy to believe our running away was another way for you to poke sticks at your father. I always felt I was into you way more than you were into me.”

      He raked a hand through his honey hair, making it stick up, and his Paul Newman blue eyes met her gaze. “You know, I could ask why you thought that, but I already know the answer.”

      She wished he would tell her. She didn’t know why she’d believed everyone else rather than her own heart. Why she hadn’t had faith in Darby. “I don’t know what to say.”

      “Maybe there isn’t anything left to say now,” he said, leaning forward, pressing his elbows to his knees, a mirror pose to hers. His shoulders were much broader, the jaw bristled with golden scruff was more pronounced, the hands clasped were no longer a boy’s.

      Even though tears seemed precariously close, her internal thermometer rose a few degrees, but she couldn’t give credence to desire. She’d already made that mistake in the kitchen moments ago. “Maybe not, but we still have to deal with our future.”

      “When I get the paperwork, I’ll come by.” He rose and looked around her house. “I’m sorry to disrupt the life you’ve built, Ren. Seems like a nice one. We’ll get through this. Now go on back to your Friday night.”

      She followed his gaze about her room. She had built a nice life for herself, even if it was a bit lonely. At that moment, she really wished she were dating someone if only so she didn’t look quite so pathetic with her cat and polished antiques. Maybe she should call Carrie and go out. Pick up a dude to try and forget the trouble that had landed on her door. But would that make her an adulterer? Dear Lord. She couldn’t believe she was married. “Yeah, it was a little disruptive—helluva curve ball.”

      “So let’s turn on it and hit it out of the park,” Darby smiled, moving toward the door. His demeanor had shifted again and he was back to being light and charming. How could he accomplish that so quickly? She felt pressed down by an unbearable weight with the news he’d delivered, with the falsehoods uncovered. She needed time to process. Time to grieve. Time to confront. Time to...drink enough wine to forget what had transpired over the course of the past two hours.

      “Yeah, hit it out of the park,” she echoed, following him to the door, trying not to wince at the ache in her leg. It was always worse at the end of the week, which was another reason she usually spent Friday nights with Chauncey, a glass of white and three hours of Lifetime TV.

      Darby opened the door and Chauncey shot inside. “He seems pretty attached to you.”

      “Or his food bowl.”

      He turned and brushed a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “I think it’s you. You have a way of growing on people...and cats.”

      Her heart flopped over at his touch. At his words. “God, Darby, you say things that make me want to—”

      “Kiss me?”

      She shook her head and smiled. “Make me want to forgive you.”

      “And you have to forgive me for...what? Loving you once?”

      “I really don’t know.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      DARBY WATCHED ANNIE ROLL a ball across the hardwood floor to Paxton, who immediately picked it up and shoved it in his mouth.

      “No, Pax. Dirty,” Annie said, wrestling the soft ball from her ten-month-old son’s mouth. The kid cranked up like a siren.

      “Get used to women denying you, kid,” Darby said, clinking a beer bottle to the one in his brother’s hand. They sat in double recliners centered in front of a big-screen in Nate’s den. For the first time since he’d hit land in New Orleans, Darby felt at home. Odd, since he’d never even glimpsed the new house Nate had built nor met the tenacious Annie.

      “Yeah, Nate’s living a hard life sitting back in that leather recliner drinking Abita. Denial is the man’s middle name.” Annie scooped up the wailing kid and plopped a pacifier in his mouth. Pax’s super-suction made the car or train or whatever was on the end of it bob like a cork on a fishing line, but it appeased. Darby wished he had one of those for hard times, then he looked at the amber bottle in his hand. Guess he kind of had a little something to soothe him.

      Nate belched. “Yeah, life’s tough.”

      Annie rolled her eyes, settled the kid on her hip and regarded her husband. “It’s your turn to change Pax.”

      “Come on, hon, I’m hanging with my little brother.”

      “And that gives you reason to shirk your duty? This is an equal partnership, bud.” Annie’s gray eyes were sort of shardlike. He could see former FBI agent written all over her.

      Darby struggled up from the depths of the recliner. “Give him here. I’ll do it. Been wanting to spend some time with my nephew anyway.”

      His new sister-in-law raised her eyebrows. “You know this is a poopy diaper, don’t you? Might ruin the relationship before it’s out of the gate.”

      Darby set his beer on the table. “How hard can it be? I’ve had plenty of practice.”

      Nate’s bark of laughter startled Pax, who started fussing again. “On who?”

      “Myself.”

      Nate rose and shook his head. “Totally not the same thing. Trust me.”

      His brother held out his hands and Pax sort of fell into them with a drooling grin behind his enormous pacifier...and that’s when Darby got a whiff.

      Dear God.

      His nephew smelled dead.

      “Um, on second thought, I’ll keep Annie company. Haven’t had the opportunity to spend much time with her, either.”

      His brother frowned but dropped a kiss atop the baby’s head. Yeah, Nate knew when he’d been suckered, but he didn’t say anything more as he left the den, noxious fumes trailing behind him.

      “You’re good.” Annie smiled as she sank onto the couch adjacent from the recliners and propped her bare feet on the ottoman. “Almost as good as me.”

      Darby shrugged. “I’m the baby of the family—we’re born knowing how to manipulate the oldest.”

      “So does the wife. It wasn’t even his turn to change the baby.”

      Darby laughed. He liked this new addition to the Dufrene clan. Spunky might have been Annie’s middle name,