French Escape: From Daredevil to Devoted Daddy / One Week with the French Tycoon / It Happened in Paris.... Barbara McMahon

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СКАЧАТЬ She wouldn’t mind trying it herself again, as long as it was with Matt. Who would ever think she’d find anything redeeming in climbing rocks?

      “Matt!” Alexandre scooped up his cars and ran to the kitchen doorway. “We builded a ramp and our cars went really fast.” He hugged the man’s leg and looked up at him, his eyes shining.

      Jeanne-Marie looked as well, wondering if she had that same look of adoration her son wore.

      “Fantastic, I want to hear all about it,” Matt said, stooping to be on eye level with Alexandre. “Did yours win?”

      “Yes. But Mama said next time maybe Pierre’s will win. But mine’s really fast.”

      “Life is not always about winning, but it’s great when we do,” Matt replied, his gaze moving to Jeanne-Marie.

      “We’re having soup and bread for dinner,” she said. “There’s plenty if you want to eat with us.” She held her breath, hoping he’d say yes.

      The faint flush of color on her cheeks could have been from the stove’s heat, or it could mean something else. Matt nodded and rose, walking with Alexandre to the small square table, three chairs on three sides and the fourth side pressed to the wall beneath the window that overlooked the garden.

      In only moments, Jeanne-Marie had served them all and sat down opposite Matt, Alexandre in the center.

      The boy talked as fast as he could until his mother said, “Enough. Eat before the soup gets cold. Then you can finish telling Matt about your racing adventures.”

      Alexandre scowled but picked up his spoon. “But Matt needs to hear.”

      “When you’re done eating,” Matt said. He looked at Jeanne-Marie. “Are you full again? I heard people climbing up and down the stairs.”

      “More than full. One couple has a baby they didn’t tell me about. I hope it doesn’t cry in the night.”

      “Do you not let rooms to babies?” Matt asked.

      Jeanne-Marie nodded, watching to see if he liked the meal. The soup had been simmering all afternoon, so thick with vegetables and beef it was almost a stew. The fresh, crusty bread had been made that morning. It was a simple meal, but one she took pride in. He seemed to like it.

      “If I know in advance, I usually give families with small children the end room above the kitchen. There’s a small storage room separating it from other rooms in the back, so crying babies aren’t so noticeable. But they have the room smack in the center of the front, flanked by two other rooms.” She shrugged. “I’ll have a better idea if it’s going to work by tomorrow. Here’s hoping the baby sleeps through the night.”

      “I’m all done,” Alexandre said, tipping his bowl slightly so his mother could see it was empty. “Now can I talk?”

      Matt smiled at his impatience. Just like Etienne had been. He flicked a glance at Jeanne-Marie, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

      She nodded solemnly. “Now you may talk.”

      “I have to go to my grandparents’ tomorrow,” he said, almost bouncing in his chair. “Will you still be here when I get back? We could walk along the beach again. Or I could go climbing with you,” he ended hopefully.

      “Yes, Matt will be here when you get back,” Jeanne-Marie said.

      “You’ll have fun at your grandparents’, right?” Matt asked.

      “Sure, we’ll go have ice cream and play in the park and watch movies on television. They have a television. We don’t. Do you have a television?”

      “I do.”

      Alexandre’s eyes widened. “That’s cool. I wish we had a television.”

      “Think what a treat it is when you go to your grandparents’,” his mother said.

      “She says I look like my dad,” he told Matt.

      He looked up at Jeanne-Marie, a question in his eyes.

      “He looks a lot like Phillipe did at that age from the pictures I’ve seen. I’m sure Adrienne is constantly reminded.” She looked at her son and Matt knew she was constantly reminded of her husband as well when she looked at him.

      Which was worse, to have purged his house of reminders or to be constantly reminded by just looking at her son?

      “Maybe they can take me to ride horses so I can learn. Then I can come visit you, Matt, and ride your horses.”

      “Maybe.”

      Jeanne-Marie threw him a look that was difficult to interpret.

      “What?”

      “We’re not coming to visit, so don’t raise his hopes.”

      “You’d be welcome,” he said. Thinking about it for a moment, he realized he’d like to have her and her son come to see where he lived, where he worked. What would they think of his family’s enterprise?

      “Do you want some more soup?” she asked, clearly changing the subject.

      “Yes. And more of that delicious bread.”

      After dinner Matt suggested a walk along the beach. While he saw no benefit from lying in the broiling sun all day, he did like being by the sea. The air was fresh and invigorating. She wouldn’t go without her son, which suited him. Matt was surprised to realize he enjoyed Alexandre’s company.

      “A short walk, perhaps. We have to get ready for Alexandre’s trip,” she said, hesitating.

      “Instead of going later, shall we leave in the morning and have lunch together in Marseilles before dropping Alexandre off at his grandparents’?” Matt asked.

      Alexandre looked at him. “Are you going to Marseilles, too?”

      “I’m driving you to your grandparents’ place,” Matt said.

      “Yea!” Alexandre danced around. “And will you pick me up, too? “

      “If it’s okay with your mother.” And with that, Jeanne-Marie knew nothing could be better.

      “We need to return soon so Alexandre can take a bath before bed,” she said an hour later when they reached the marina. Twilight was near. It would take a while to walk back along the curving beach to get to the inn.

      “If I swim in the sea I wouldn’t need to take a bath,” the little boy said, running ahead, then running back to be with them.

      “Would you read me a story tonight?” he asked Matt, slipping his hand into the man’s larger one.

      It was startling. The child was without pretension. He said whatever came into his mind. Holding his hand, Matt was swept away with a feeling of protectiveness toward the little boy. How unfair life had been, losing his father when so young. Who would teach him how to be a man?

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