Page 18 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

Me: I’m gonna marry her.

Nick: No shit? Really?

Me: Yeah. She knocked me on my ass, man. Love at first sight and all that. Can’t even explain it. But I know it’s real. I can’t wait for you to meet her.

Nick: She coming back to Coronado with you?

Me: As soon as I can convince her to.

Nick: Good luck. Hey, my bride is calling me in the next room so I gotta go.

Me: Give my sister a hug. A non-naked, non-sexy hug, please. Don’t make it weird.

Nick:

Me: Why am I even friends with you? Remind yourself that I paved the way for you to win Cassie’s heart. Just know that.

I pocket my phone and turn off the light and fan before I open the bathroom door. Ava is still curled on the bed, her eyes closed, but I don’t think she’s sleeping. I kneel next to the bed and brush her bright green locks out of her face.

“Hey beautiful, I know you’re not sleeping.”

She opens one brilliant blue eye. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know you.” I stand and nudge her with my knee. “Sit up. It’s time for snacks.”

I walk over to the in-room mini fridge and freezer and pull out the pint of ice cream I got us to share and the tiny bottle of champagne. I pat my pocket to make sure I’ve got the other thing I need.

Ava is sitting up against the headboard, the sheet wrapped against her body, and a pillow on her lap. She’s chewing on her lip.

I hand her the ice cream and a spoon and set the champagne down to grab the plastic cups off the counter. Then I sit down with her. Our knees press together though I’m sitting above the covers.

“Is this our thing? Where I sit in a bed naked and you get to be dressed and we have big talks?” she asks.

“It can be. I like you naked.”

She gives me a shy smile. “I like you naked too.”

I pull my shirt off. “If I take off anything else I’m afraid the ice cream will result in some shrinkage and we don’t want that.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re ridiculous. I realize I’m not an expert, but I’m fairly sure you have an above average sized penis.”

“I’m putting that on a t-shirt. And I’m gonna wear that sucker every day.”

She laughs.

“There she is. That smile. That laugh. You eat your ice cream and I’m going to tell you a story.”

She eyes me warily, but takes the spoon and digs into the ice cream.

“Both my parents are from the same small town in Louisiana. They met for the first time in the fourth grade. My dad has always said that the first moment he saw my mama, he took one look at her pigtails and he knew he was gonna marry her.”

“Wow, you don’t hear a love story quite like that every day,” she says.

“Oh, that’s not the end. You see by the end of the school year my granddaddy—my mama’s dad—got a job and they had to move away. So they lost touch. Everyone tried to tell my dad that it just wasn’t meant to be, but he felt certain that when the time was right their paths would cross again.”

“And then he’d marry her,” Ava says.

“Exactly. It took longer than he wanted it to. But about a year after they graduated high school my dad and his family were on vacation and they stopped at a restaurant and there she was. Waiting tables with the same pigtails.” I chuckle thinking of all the times my parents have told the story and how it varies slightly depending on which one is telling it.

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