French Escape. Barbara McMahon
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you, please?”
When Jeanne-Marie returned from the kitchen with Alexandre’s breakfast, both of them at the table looked at her. “Mama, Matt is going with us to the fete and he’ll lift me up high to see!”
Jeanne-Marie’s eyes widened and she stared at him. “You’re going with us?”
“If you don’t wish me to lift him, I won’t. But he would be higher, don’t you think?”
She nodded, putting the plate in front of Alexandre, trying to understand what was going on. “I thought you were climbing.”
“I can climb tomorrow.”
Jeanne-Marie didn’t know what to say. How would she spend the entire day in close proximity to Matthieu Sommer?
They left the inn just before ten o’clock. Alexandre was beside himself, racing out in front, then running back to urge them on. Jeanne-Marie was careful to keep a distance between herself and the stern-looking man walking beside her. He had not smiled again like he had yesterday. If anything, he seemed to regret it. Still, he was going with her today. She wondered what Michelle would think when she showed up with him.
The small coastal town was already crowded with colorful booths lining both sides of the main street, which had been closed for the day. Everything imaginable was for sale, from fresh warm cookies to scarves, sunglasses, wood carvings, brassware, and original paintings and crafts of every kind. When they began to be jostled by others, Jeanne-Marie took hold of Alexandre’s hand so he wouldn’t get separated from her in the growing crowd.
The tricolor flew on every lamppost and by each booth. The joy in the day was evident by the happy revelers. It was a perfect day.
Or would be if she could enjoy herself instead of being so very aware of the man walking at her side. She was getting too interested in her guest. Surrounded by the crowd, she still felt as if she and Matt were almost alone. She had to pay attention to what else was going on around her.
Matt studied the scene from time to time, looking wherever Alexandre pointed. They passed a juggler mesmerizing his audience. A small band played near the town center, with people crowding the sidewalks to enjoy the music.
They stopped at every booth. Matt wondered if the entire day was going to be silent, with Jeanne-Marie not speaking. He reached out and took her arm, stopping her.
She turned and stared at him with wide eyes.
“If you don’t wish for me to accompany you, please say so.”
“Of course you can come with us. You’re here, aren’t you?”
“And you haven’t said one word since we left the inn. Which leads me to surmise you’d just as soon wish I was a million miles away.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m glad you came with us. It’s just—” She shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel a bit funny if you want the truth. This is the first time I’ve attended anything with a man since Phillipe died. It feels awkward. I know this isn’t a date or anything,” she rushed in to explain. “But others might look on it as if it were and then I’d have to explain and there’s nothing to explain, but it gets complicated.”
He nodded. “I get it. This is the first time I’ve attended anything since my family died, too. It is different. It’s not what either of us thought we’d be doing today, but let’s give Alexandre a good day. Let others think what they want.”
She nodded, relieved he understood. And for her, nothing was more important than letting her son enjoy himself.
Except—today she wanted Matt to enjoy himself as well. He’d lived with heartache too long.
“You and I know the truth, so what does it matter what others think?” he asked, leaning closer so she could hear him. Feeling the brush of his breath across her face, her eyes grew even wider as she stared right back at him. Matt was shocked at the sudden spurt of awareness and desire that shot through him.
His gaze dropped to her lips and she instinctively licked them. He felt another shot of desire deep inside. Time seemed to stand still. Alexandre had nothing to do with the sensations he was feeling now.
Clearing her throat, Jeanne-Marie dragged her gaze away and turned to look at the booth they stood in front of. “This is a fine example of local wood carving,” she said, her voice husky.
It took a moment for him to be able to move. He was stunned he could feel anything after Marabelle’s death. He took a step back and gave his attention to the vendor, who tried to convince them they needed an assortment of wooden animals. Blood pounded in his veins. He glanced around, but no one else in the crowd noticed anything unusual. No one picked up on his reaction. No one could condemn him for normal male reactions to a pretty woman.
“We don’t buy, we just look,” Alexandre said. “Too much stuff to carry,” he said gravely.
Glad for the boy’s comment, Matt drew in a deep breath, avoiding looking at Jeanne-Marie. “Maybe on the way home we can find a memento of the day,” Matt told the boy. Keep things impersonal. And keep Alexandre between them. He’d focus on the little boy and make sure he had a good time.
They met Jeanne-Marie’s friends at the designated corner shortly before the parade was to begin. Michelle couldn’t hide her surprise when she saw Matt accompanying Jeanne-Marie and Alexandre, but she tried to cover it up, rushing to introduce her son and husband. Alexandre and Pierre were friends and began talking about what they hoped was going to be in the parade.
When more and more people pressed in around them, Matt knew the parade was about to begin. He lifted Alexandre into his arms so he could see more than waists and legs. As a defense mechanism it wasn’t foolproof, but it kept his attention focused on the parade and the boy and not the woman standing beside him. When others moved to crowd into the remaining space, Jeanne-Marie had to step closer. He could smell her perfume, light and airy, and as much a part of her as her dark hair. She was no longer so distant, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. At least when she wasn’t talking to him, he had been okay. Now he grew more aware of her every second.
“I’m up high,” Alexandre said gleefully, leaning over to see Pierre, whose father had also lifted him.
“Me, too,” Pierre said with laughter.
The first entry in the parade was an eclectic band, the national anthem played at the midway point of the parade route. Then the musicians played marching music as they continued down the street.
Following were homemade floats, decorated cars with people waving, a dancing group from a local school. A high school band, and assorted veteran companies dressed in uniform, cheered by the spectators. A fire truck followed, blowing its siren from time to time and spraying the crowd with a fine mist of water.
When the parade ended forty-five minutes later, Michelle and Marc invited Jeanne-Marie and Matt to join them for lunch.
“No. I need to get back to the inn,” Jeanne-Marie said.
“Why?” Michelle asked. “You have Rene to keep an eye on things, and all your guests are surely here.”
Jeanne-Marie turned slightly so Matt couldn’t see her face and rolled her eyes in his direction.
Michelle grinned and leaned closer. “To be alone with him?”
“No!” Jeanne-Marie said, horrified. This was just the kind of conclusion she was afraid her friend would jump to. “I can’t tie him up all day,” she said softly.
“I want to ride the merry-go-round,” Alexandre said.
“We usually do let the children ride,” Michelle said, her eyes dancing at Jeanne-Marie’s discomfort.
“Is there a carousel?” Matt asked Jeanne-Marie. She turned and nodded, giving up on her plan to flee back to the inn and barricade herself into her private rooms.
“There’s a traveling carnival at