In the Midnight Hour (39 page)

Her eyes blurred and she buried her head in the pillow. She wasn’t sure how long she cried, great big sobbing gulps that echoed from her heart and gripped her entire body. It could have been minutes, hours. She only knew that when she managed to focus again, the bright morning sunshine streamed through the open French doors.

Ronnie was about to yank the doors and drapes closed and cocoon herself in misery, mindless that she had classes and work waiting for her, when her gaze fell to her nearly finished term paper due first thing Monday morning.
Fifty Steps to Ultimate Sexual Fulfillment by Veronica Parrish
.

She closed her eyes and relived her last few moments with Val, the lovemaking they’d shared, the joy. A deep-seated, overwhelming,
ultimate
joy that had little to do with sex and everything to do with the fact that she’d fallen helplessly, completely in love.

Before Ronnie could question what she was doing, she trashed her nearly completed paper, called in sick at the library, and sat down at her computer to write.

To set things right.

Ronnie spent all day Friday and Saturday writing and crying. She ignored the ringing phone, to the point that her answering machine overflowed and stopped picking up messages. The only person she talked to was Danny, and only to tell him she wasn’t in the mood to talk. By Sunday morning, however, she’d finished the writing, so she spent the early morning hours baking and crying. Then driving and crying as she headed out to Covenant.

Home.

When Ronnie pulled into her parents’ driveway, she killed the engine, took a deep breath, grabbed the still warm strawberry pie she’d made, and climbed out of her car.

Sometimes love isn’t enough
. Her own words echoed back through her head. She’d been right. Sometimes love wasn’t enough. For her and Val, it hadn’t been, but that’s because forces much greater than stubbornness and fear had been calling the shots. Life-and-death forces that were beyond anyone’s control.

Things were different with her parents. They were alive and breathing, and they did love her. And she loved them.

And that meant there was hope, and that love could be enough.

She ignored the logical part of her brain, which told her this was useless. That her folks would disown her all over again. That she was just inviting heartbreak.

But her heart was already broken, crumpled in tiny little pieces, and there wasn’t too much that could make her feel worse.

Besides, she couldn’t forget what Val had told her. That the happiest person listened to both her head and her heart. While Ronnie wasn’t banking on happiness any time soon, she was through suppressing her feelings and running on reason alone.

She knocked.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. “Yes …?” Her mother’s voice faded. Shock chased surprise across the woman’s features as she stared at Ronnie as if she were seeing a ghost.

If only.

Ronnie cleared her throat and fought for her suddenly shaky voice. “Hi, Mom.”

“V-Veronica,” her mother stammered. “You’re here—”

“Janice? Who is it?” her father called from inside the house. “Is it Robert? I told him I would meet him at the golf course before ten o’clock tee-off.…” The words faded as her father appeared in the doorway. His expression went from exasperated to shocked as his gaze collided with his daughter’s.

“I brought a pie,” she explained after a moment of pressing silence. “A strawberry pie, made from the ones Mom sent me. Here.” She handed him the pie.

He stared at the dessert as if it sported eyes and wore a Devout Democrat button, but he didn’t chuck the pile of fruit and crust back into her face. Definitely a good sign.

“I’m graduating in a few weeks,” she rushed on, eager to say what she’d come to say before she lost her nerve. “At least, I hope I am. There’s one class that’s a little iffy, but if I don’t pass, I still have enough credits to go through the ceremony. Then I’ll make the class up during the summer, or fall—whenever it’s offered.” She pulled an envelope from her pocket. “I’d really like you and Mom to be there.”

He took the envelope, stared at it just the way he had regarded the pie. Then the door creaked and closed, and Ronnie found herself alone on the doorstep.

She simply stood there for a minute, marveling at how she didn’t feel the need to run back to her car, to crawl beneath it. She’d faced them, faced her past, and even if they didn’t come around right away, even if they never came around, at least she’d tried.

When she slid behind the wheel, she caught sight of her father through the kitchen window. He sat at the table, staring at the pie. Several seconds ticked past, but finally he lifted a knife and sliced into the dessert.

And for the first time since Val had left, Ronnie actually smiled. And then she cried.

“You look terrible,” Delta told Ronnie when she reported for her shift at the library later that day.

“I feel it.”

“Another flu bug.”

“Something like that.” Ronnie stashed her book bag under the counter and went to work behind the circulation desk.

She tossed the baseball cap she’d been wearing into a nearby trash can. The hunt was still on for the kissing bandit, but with the fraternities holding auditions for Miss Kiss of USL, there were plenty of women vying for the title and enough distraction that she could stop worrying.

Not that she even cared at the moment. The campus police could place her under arrest right now and she wouldn’t so much as blink. The worst had already happened.

“Since you’re sick, I won’t ask you,” Delta said.

“Ask me what?”

“To close up for me tonight. I mean, if you’re feeling poorly, you probably want to get right home. I’ll just tell Cass I can’t make it—”

“Cass?”

“We’re having dinner together.”

“As in, you two finally kissed and made up?”

“Actually, it went a little beyond a kiss.” Delta smiled. “For one who has so much snow on the roof, the man’s got an inferno blazing in his cookstove.”

“You sound happy.” Ronnie smiled despite the ache gripping her chest. Two smiles in one day. She might not wither up and die, after all.

“I am.” Delta’s dreamy expression faded as she cast another worried glance at Ronnie. “But I’m not placing any bets on you. I’ll close up.”

“You go on to dinner. I’m fine,” Ronnie said. At Delta’s doubtful glance, she planted her hands on her hips and growled, “
Go
.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Delta beamed. “You’re all heart, honey. Hi, Danny. Bye, Danny,” she said as she passed the young man.

“What’s gotten into her?”

“Love.” Ronnie sighed. “If I can’t have my own happy ending, it’s nice to see someone else get hers.”

“True, but I’d like to have one of my own.” Danny’s gaze followed Wanda as she exited the library with several of her friends.

“Move on,” Ronnie told him.

“Speaking of moving on, from the looks of you, I’d say Val’s gone.”

She sniffled. “That bad, huh?”

“Your eyes are red and puffy. Your face is pale. I’d say you’ve cried a few buckets since the last time I saw you.”

“More than a few. The only good thing is that I’m on the verge of dehydrating, which means no more tears.”

“Hang in there.” He touched a comforting hand to hers. “And if you need anything, you know where I am.” His gaze shifted to the library door.

She nodded and watched him walk away, and then she cried. Again. So much for dehydration.

“Wanda, wait!” Danny called out as he caught up to her outside the library. “You got a sec?”

She excused herself from her friends, who walked on ahead.

“What’s up?” she asked when he reached her.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“I thought … I thought maybe we—”

“Come on, Wanda,” one of the women called out, effectively killing Danny’s question. “The guys’ll scarf down every slice of pizza if we don’t get over there.”

“Hold on,” she called out. “Look, I’ve really got to go,” she told Danny.

“But I thought maybe we could—”

“Wanda!” the woman called again.

“This can wait, can’t it?” She didn’t wait for a reply. She simply smiled that enticing smile and turned away to join her friends.

He started to walk away.

There was always tomorrow. A new day and fresh hope. Another tutoring session, maybe a few stolen kisses during one of her weaker moments. Maybe even another date. If he lucked out.

But Danny Boudreaux had never been lucky. He’d always had to work extra hard for the things in his life. When he’d wanted that brand-spanking-new bicycle back in elementary school, he’d cut ten yards in one Saturday afternoon to earn the money. He’d spent all four years of high school studying to win a scholarship, and every year of college with his nose to the grindstone to keep his GPA perfect and his future bright. If he wanted something, he went after it. Really went after it.

This time shouldn’t have been any different, he admitted in a moment of staggering realization, as he watched the one woman he’d wanted for so long walk away from him. Again.

What the hell had he been doing all this time? He should have been pursuing Wanda with the same diligence he put into all his A’s. Instead, he’d been sitting around, waiting. Waiting for her to notice how much he cared for her, to notice what a fine boyfriend he would make—loyal and hard-working with six-figure earning potential. Waiting for a miracle, because Wanda couldn’t see past the surface—the not-so-muscular body, the glasses that made him look like a hoot owl. She couldn’t see and, other than his small, spur-of-the-moment attempt to make her jealous by claiming Ronnie was his still enamored ex-girlfriend, he’d never done anything to really open Wanda’s eyes.

Something snapped and he went after her. His fingers snaked around her wrist.

“It can’t wait,” he said, and then he hauled her into his arms and kissed her. In front of God and the overflow of students from the Student Union building. More importantly, in front of her friends, and he didn’t feel a moment’s hesitation. No fear that she’d slap his face and turn away, cancel their late-night tutoring sessions, and allow him no more contact with her whatsoever.

He didn’t want to be her friend or her study buddy or her sometimes lover when no one was looking and she was in the mood and the planets were in perfect alignment. He wanted to be more.

Danny was through dreaming. He was a man of action. He always had been, he just hadn’t realized it. But now … Thanks to Valentine Tremaine, he’d discovered a part of himself. His self-confidence when it came to women.

Her lips formed a tiny O at the first moment of contact, but then she softened, giving in to the insistent demand of his tongue. He kissed her deeply, the contact fueled by two years of lust and longing.

It ended as quickly as it had started, with Danny pulling back, letting go. She swayed, staring at him in a shocked daze, mindless of her friends, who made a very captive and vocal audience behind her.

Mindless of anyone except him.

He smiled, and
then
he walked away.

Monday dawned bright and sunny, with Ronnie still miserably hydrated. She blew her nose, dabbed her damp eyes, and slid into her seat in Guidry’s class, her paper in hand.

The news of the professor’s accident had spread like wildfire. Class had been canceled on Friday because of the accident and Ronnie half-expected one of the teacher’s aides to fill in for Monday’s class, particularly when she heard that the hospital had treated Guidry most of the weekend for his concussion.

“Just our luck, his head is as hard as his heart,” a woman muttered and Ronnie turned, along with three dozen other students, to see Professor Guidry enter the classroom.

Her mouth dropped open and the air lodged in her throat as murmured amazement drifted through the class.

“Would you look at that?”

“Wow.”

“That hit on the head must’ve done some permanent damage.”

“What is that he’s wearing?”

The “what” consisted of a white T-shirt that hugged a broad chest and well-muscled arms, a pair of snug, faded Levi’s, and worn cowboy boots.

“Who knew Guidry was hiding a body like that under his lab coat?”

“Check out his butt.”

“I never knew Guidry had a butt.”

“Everybody has a butt.”

“Not one shaped like that.”

Mmm
, Ronnie thought. He did have a good butt.

Oh, God. What was she thinking? Val had been gone less than seventy-two hours and she was checking out another man’s butt. What was wrong with her?

She was witnessing a historic event, that’s what, because Iron Ball Guidry had transformed from the Nutty Professor into the Marlboro Man, and the result was … incredible.

“And his hair. He’s got real hair.”

The thick black locks hung loose, rather than being combed back in his usual severe style. His hair brushed the tops of his shoulders, falling around his face, making him almost attractive.