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Tears stung Raven’s eyes at his wonderful offer.
“She’s a very special girl,” Brax added. “And she needs to be showered with love, and gifts, and joy just like you. Plus, there’s no sense in teaching her to ice skate if we’re just going to send her back to New Orleans.” He paused. “I suppose I should have asked: Where are we living?”
“Boston. I just bought a cottage here before I went to jail. Lacie will rent it out for me. That way I’ll have some income. I know you’ll say I won’t need it, but I do, for my own peace of mind.”
“Then Boston it will be and I won’t say more.”
He kissed her again and whispered, “Thank you for loving me.”
“Thank you for loving me.”
Two Saturdays later, the Moreaux celebrated a double wedding. Raven was married in her beautiful blue gown and Dorrie wore the dress she’d asked for—complete with roses around the middle. Brax had Bertie make it the day Raven left to return to New Orleans. A preacher spoke the words, Hazel cried, and Harrison wore his best suit. There was food, music, dancing, and cake. And two very lively wedding nights in two suites at the Hotel Christophe, courtesy of the still grateful House of LeVeq.
