12.

Jon groaned and opened up yet another invitation to another fundraiser. God they all wanted him these days. Being known for his philanthropic deeds was nice, but he didn’t do what he did for the glory.

As he flipped the card open he started to smile. Well at least it was one of his favorite charities, Habitat. Reading further his smile widened, well hell this might even be fun to attend. They were holding a fundraiser for Habitat at the St Joseph Plantation in New Orleans, well closer to Vacherie, but still, it was close enough to possibly hit his favorite haunts in the old southern city. He studied the invitation closer and nodded. Four days of festivities, and all of it in costume. Carriage ride tours of the old homes, all with Halloween themes, to culminate in the ball to be held on October 31.

Reaching for his phone he dialed. He could take a few guests, and Richie was always up for a party. Hell he’d even enjoy the costume aspect of it. Staying in a plantation, dressing in old civil war finery? Richie would eat that up. Linds would too. She was a little romantic at heart.

Fingers drummed on his desktop as he waited for his friend to pick up his phone. “You better not be screwing again old man, you’re gonna kill yourself.” He sighed as the phone rang for the fifteenth time, before being picked up as a breathless voice said “hello.”

“Please tell me you weren’t in the bedroom for God sakes.”

Linds rolled her eyes, her laugh teasing the phone as she pulled it to her ear. “Lord no Jon, what do you think we are teenagers?” She grinned as she turned to watch Richie leave the pool. What Jon said was the truth, she couldn’t deny that. Richie was acting younger and younger by the day; and although she knew she had a part in his becoming more himself, she also knew that time was a great healer and that Richie may have been just fine had he not met her. Not that she planned on leaving him now to test the theory.

Jon leaned back in his chair, throwing his booted feet up on his desk. “Well you, no, but ever since my friend met you he’s been acting like a kid again. Of course with him you’re never sure exactly how old he is.”

A rather unladylike snort whispered through the phone lines as Jon’s brows waggled, “What? It’s the fuckin’ truth Lindsay and you know it.”

“And I know you didn’t call just to discuss our love life Jon. What’s up?” Linds reached for an apple and took a bite, her crystalline eyes glancing up and winking as Richie entered the room. Her eyes widened as Jon explained. She’d always wanted to see New Orleans, had always had a thing for civil war stories and movies.

Jon’s brow arched as she exploded into laughter at his invitation. God it wasn’t that funny was it? It was then he heard his friends muffled laugh. “Dammit hand him the freaking phone.”

Linds pulled back and held the phone to Richie’s ear then gasped loudly. “START TALKING!”

“Dean, man! God she’s on the phone for god sakes. Can’t you keep your hands off of her for one minute?” Jon’s feet thunked on the floor as he leaned forward to grab at the invitation.

Richie pulled away and took the phone. “Hell no, I can’t keep my hands off of her and I don’t want to. What’s got your boxers in a bunch asshole?” He waggled his brows at Linds and pulled her in with his free hand. “Come on man, I got things to do, Whatcha need me for huh?”

Jon shook his head, his laugh escaping him, “Can’t get something into a bunch that I never wear my brother. However, what I need you for is simple. Habitat is throwing a fundraiser in New Orleans, four days, in costume in the antebellum South. I want you and Linds to go with me.”

Richie glanced over at the light of his life and saw the excitement bubbling in her eyes. He’d always shied away from anything relating to the Civil War, it had always given him the heebie jeebies for some reason, but the sparkle in her eyes and the damn near excited tone of his best friend’s voice had him stuffing that feeling away. “Sure thing man, I so want to go to a place and have my woman dressed in such a way that it takes me hours to get through it. OW!” Pouty brown eyes fluttered at Linds as he listened to Jon roar in his ear.

“She popped you for that one didn’t she man?”

“Fuck yeah, man she hits HARD too.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “So when do we need to be ready man?”

Jon glanced at the invitation before speaking. “You have about a week to get all you need ready, oh and prepare your checkbook man; we’re gonna help build a few more homes.”

Richie chuckled and half listened to the list of things they’d need for a week long trip into the past. At the mention of his checkbook he snorted. “This gonna be another Oprah moment Frank?”

Jon laughed, “It just might turn out to be man; we’ll just have to see. Oh and man? You have to arrive at the thing in costume.” He hung up the phone and leaned back, his mind already beginning to skate along as he planned out all he needed to do to for the fundraiser.

Richie groaned as he cradled the phone, his brown eyes wincing. “A costume ball? Me in a stuffed shirt?” He twisted and pulled her into his arms, his lips brushing lightly over her bare shoulder, “Darlin, the things I do for love astound even me.”

She tilted her head to see the apprehension and humor warring in his gaze. “Well I know you’re a Jersey boy, a true Yankee, but most people love Gone with the Wind or Civil War things, well at least the fun romantic stuff, but you don’t why?”

Richie shook his head, “Not sure Darlin, always disliked that era, makes me feel off or uncomfortable.” Hell, how did you tell a decent normal woman that movie always gave him bad dreams? He’d had more than a few over his life, and all surrounding blue coats and hoop skirts. Damn maybe he was losing it in his old age.

She tightened her hug, sensing his unease about this party. She wouldn’t go if it was going to make him feel bad or sad, she’d worked way too hard since meeting him at removing that sadness from his eyes. “We don’t have to go. We can stay here and hand out candy, I’ll be just as happy.”

He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, a slight smile beginning to play on his lips. “Darlin, for you I’d brave hell, I think I can handle a silly civil war party.” He leaned in, his lips sliding over hers sensually. “Might even be fun trying to get you out of all those petticoats after all.”

Lind’s voice went all southern sugar, her bright blue eyes beginning to gleam, “Well I do declare kind Sir, I believe you’ve just propositioned me.”

He groaned at the accent as he pulled her in closer, his own love of affected accents rising to the fore as he turned Rhett Butler on her. Dipping her low he leaned over her his lips just above her ear as he breathed out.“Darlin, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”