Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I widen my eyes a bit at his use of the word please.
Dominants don’t often use that word. It’s understood that the submissive wants to please their Dominant. They don’t have to ask.
Of course, we’re not in a scene right now.
We’re on a…date.
My God… How long has it been since I’ve been on a date? Not since Lucas…
“All right, Ronan. I’ll trust you. And I will try everything. But I reserve the right to not continue eating something if I don’t like it.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to eat anything that you don’t like. But I know you’re going to love everything my grandmother puts in front of you tonight.”
“I hope I do.” I lean back a little, relaxing. “Tell me more about your grandmother.”
“Her father was French, her mother African, but she was born here in New Orleans.”
“That’s so interesting.”
“Do you know your ancestry?” Ronan asks me.
“Not really. I did some research once on my last name, Sandusky. There are two contradictory opinions. It could be from a Native American tribe or it could be Polish.”
“Those are two totally different origins.”
“I know. My father was no help. Of course now he’s gone, but Sandusky, as you may know, is a city in Ohio, where the Wyandotte tribes lived. Some say it’s an Indigenous peoples’ name. Some say it’s an Americanized form of the Polish name Sandowski. I honestly have no idea.”
“What about your mom’s side?”
“Her maiden name was Nelson, so, English.”
“Or Scottish,” he says. “Probably comes from the given name Neal which comes from the Gaelic name Niall, which means champion.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You know Gaelic?”
“Just as a hobby. Once I moved back to Scotland after high school, I dabbled a little, mo leannan.” He winks.
I resist the urge to call him a nerd. “Sounds like you dabbled more than a little.”
“Not really. No one speaks Gaelic anymore, so it’s kind of like studying Latin. It’s a dead language but has its beauty.”
“For someone who’s half Creole you seem fully Scottish to me.”
His face lights up. “I do love Scotland, for sure. While I was there, it truly felt like home to me.”
“So you only came back because of the deal with Braden Black?”
He pauses a moment. Then, “It was a good time for me to return to the States. The business deal, of course, but there were other reasons.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “What other reasons?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime, Mary.”
The cabbie comes to a stop.
“But not now,” he says, “because we’ve arrived.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ronan
Chez Yvette looks the same as it always has. The Creole decor features bright colors and bold patterns, with red-and-orange striped upholstery in the waiting area. The walls are painted a warm terracotta.
The building is old, with exposed brick and wood beams that add historic character and warmth. The dining room is an eclectic mix of chairs, tables, and other furnishings—some wooden, some wrought-iron. I spent many an afternoon dusting those chairs when I was a kid.
Jazz posters, Mardi Gras masks, and vintage photos of New Orleans landmarks grace the walls, and potted palms and fresh flowers create a lush, inviting atmosphere.
My grandmother, Yvette Thibodeaux, comes toward us swiftly. She is in her late sixties, but she doesn’t look a day over forty. Her light brown skin is still mostly free from wrinkles.
“Ronan, you gorgeous boy!” She grabs me in a ferocious hug.
Mémé, as I grew up calling her, is only a bit over five feet tall. I tower over her, but she grabs me as if I’m still a toddler running to her.
She pulls back. “Let me look at you. Just as handsome as ever. I’m so glad you’re back in the States. But why are you up in New York when you could be down here?”
Before I have a chance to answer, she turns and grabs Mary’s hands.
“And who might you be, you gorgeous thing?”
“Mémé, this is Mary,” I say. “Mary Sandusky.”
She reaches up to cup Mary’s cheeks. “You are just beautiful, chérie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs…”
“Thibodeaux. Yvette Thibodeaux.”
“I hope it’s not rude to say this,” Mary says, “but you look so young. You’re absolutely beautiful.”
Her brown eyes beam. “Good genetics, apparently. But I think it’s also important to be young at heart. Ronan’s mother’s been trying to get me to retire, but I won’t hear of it. I had her when I was merely fifteen, you know.”
“So I’ve heard. It’s amazing that you were able to accomplish so much and also raise a child at such a young age.”
“Chérie, you do what you have to do. Ronan has told me to break out the finest on our menu for the two of you. I saved you the best table in the house.”
I take Mary’s hand and lead her to the table. It’s a round table and can actually seat six, but Mémé has reserved it for us. Place settings for two are already on the table, seated close together so we can see everything in the restaurant.