Easy Going Read online

  Easy Going

  Boys of the Big Easy prequel novella

  Erin Nicholas

  Contents

  Part I

  Part II

  Excerpt from Going Down Easy

  Part I

  Karma was a beautiful, generous, absolutely amazing thing. And he must have been very good in a previous life or something.

  Because Elena LeBlanc had just walked into Gabe Trahan’s bar with her friend from New York. Addison Sloan. ASNY in Elena’s phone contacts.

  And Addison was wearing the red heels.

  Oh, hell yeah.

  He’d accidentally seen the photo of those heels, and the long legs that were now carrying her across the bar, in a text on Elena’s phone when Addison had asked Elena’s opinion on the purchase.

  His opinion had been, well, oh, hell yeah.

  And he’d definitely done something right in his life because Karma had now delivered her here, in person, in his bar. In those heels.

  Gabe watched her come toward him, feeling a sense of anticipation gathering in his gut. It was ridiculous how much he’d wanted to meet this woman. It hadn’t been based solely on the photo of those legs and the fuck-me heels. He’d read several of her texts before he’d realized that he’d mistaken Elena’s phone for his. He’d been confused, but intrigued. Then again, there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t have kept reading her messages after seeing those legs. It was simple biology.

  Still, the humor in her text messages had attracted him too.

  Elena had been freaked out, thinking that she and Gabe had accidentally gotten drunkenly married in Vegas.

  Then it’s clear what you need to do Addison had texted Elena.

  Get drunk again? Sneak out before he wakes up? Figure out how to get an annulment?

  No. No. And yes, eventually. But you need to have sex with your really hot husband again first.

  Gabe had liked her right then. That was excellent advice, in his opinion. Before he’d known that he was the really hot husband Elena had been referring to.

  I can’t have sex with my really hot husband!! Oh my God, he’s my HUSBAND. FUCK!! I might throw up.

  Elena had sent a puking emoticon. He’d grinned. Again, not realizing that the idea of him being her husband was what was making her feel ill.

  Calm down! You don’t have to keep him! But you DO have to send me a photo, Addison had texted.

  No! That’s creepy.

  Describe him then.

  Tall, dark, and handsome. Probably six-three. Dark hair. Blue eyes. In great shape. Big hands.

  Thinking of that made Gabe grin now. Since he now knew that he was the handsome, in shape, big-handed guy.

  Niiiiiice, had been Addison’s response. Then she’d sent an elephant and a grinning purple devil.

  Gabe hadn’t been positive what the elephant meant but he’d assumed it meant the guy was hung like a pachyderm. More specifically, that he was hung like an elephant. And Addison thought that was an important characteristic in a husband. Even an accidental one.

  He grinned remembering the whole exchange. She and Elena had gone on about the pros and cons of friends-with-benefits relationships and what Elena was willing to do to get a two-for-one coupon for a helicopter ride to the Grand Canyon. And that Addison really thought hot sex could be better than the Grand Canyon. He liked that about her, too. And then she’d sent a Seinfeld GIF. That had cemented his infatuation.

  And now she was here. He knew she came to New Orleans to visit Elena from time to time. She was an architect who specialized in the restoration of historic buildings. Like the one that housed Trahan’s Tavern, his family’s bar, that sat on the corner of Chartres Street and St. Peter Street in the French Quarter. Elena had been wanting to get her hands on the two-hundred-plus-year-old building for months. She’d come in, alone, for a drink several months back and had been a regular ever since. A regular pain in some ways. She really wanted to make over the bar, but Gabe and his brother—and partner—Logan weren’t quite ready to make the leap. Financially, if nothing else. Restoring a building like theirs wasn’t cheap.

  Now Elena was pulling out the big guns. The big, red-high-heels-long-dark-hair-tight-ass guns. And Gabe was going to fold. He already felt it.

  Because he had a whole list of things he’d like to have Addison’s “input” on.

  Gabe wiped down a glass as the women took seats at the end of the bar, watching them out of his peripheral vision. He felt his brother move behind him, starting in their direction. But Gabe stepped back, blocking Logan’s path.

  “Hey,” Logan muttered, trying to get around Gabe to wait on their new customers.

  Gabe waited until his brother met his eyes. Then he said simply, “Mine.”

  Logan frowned, not getting it at first. He glanced from Gabe to the women, then back.

  Gabe lifted a brow.

  Logan was actually manning the bar tonight while Gabe took care of the tables, but no way was his brother talking to Addison first.

  “It’s Elena,” Logan pointed out. Which meant, basically, that if either of them had wanted to stake a claim, they would have by now. Not only was Elena a regular, but she’d gone to Vegas with them on the spontaneous, hey-you-know-what-we-should-do trip that had come up over Moscow mules late one night.

  Elena was a beautiful, successful, confident, smart woman who both Gabe and Logan liked a lot. She was a very good friend. But neither of the guys felt any chemistry with her. A fact that had been acknowledged out loud by all of them when Elena had proposed to Logan in Vegas. She’d been going for that buy-one-get-one helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon that was only extended to newlyweds and there had been a quick morning-after annulment planned even before she’d popped the question.

  “It’s not just Elena,” Gabe said.

  Logan looked again as Addison leaned an elbow on the bar, laughing at something Elena had said.

  “Ohhhh,” he said, low and with a now-I-see tone. He looked at Gabe and lifted a brow. “You sure?”

  Meaning, was Gabe sure he wanted to mess with a friend of a friend? Yes, that could be a little complicated. But he definitely wanted to mess with that woman. Consequences be damned.

  “I’m sure.”

  Logan gave him a nod and stepped back. “Let me know if you need any help.”

  “What kind of help?” Gabe asked, amused.

  “Distracting Elena. Saving you if that one turns out crazy. An excuse for mom.”

  Gabe chuckled. “Okay, thanks.”

  Logan turned to head to the new table that had just been seated, saying without saying it that they were switching roles and he’d cover the tables while Gabe handled the bar.

  But then Gabe said, “What would be the excuse for mom?”

  It wasn’t their mom who would be expecting him at breakfast so much as it was Gabe’s five-year-old son. Logan and Gabe took turns crashing in the apartment over the bar. It was Logan’s official address, while Gabe lived with their mom so he’d have help with Cooper. But when it was Gabe’s turn to close Trahan’s, he’d sleep upstairs rather than drive out to his mom’s at two a.m. Tonight was Logan’s night to close, so there would need to be an excuse if Logan was eating pancakes tomorrow morning instead of Gabe.

  “How about I get sick and have to head out early?” Logan offered. His grin said that he was really going to enjoy holding this over Gabe’s head, though.

  “Sick? She’ll be on your case all day tomorrow.”

  Logan shrugged. “Even better.” He glanced over Gabe’s shoulder. “TLC is good for a guy every once in a while.”

  Yeah, it was, and Gabe was overdue for a little…feminine touch.

  “You’ll eat chicken soup and drink tea all day for me?”

  “Sure. And if
I’m sick, I won’t be able to work tomorrow either. It would probably be easier for you to just stay down here in the Quarter tomorrow. All day. And night.”

  Gabe nodded slowly, thinking it was possible he had the best brother ever. “I guess that’s true.” How long was Addison in town? And would she want to spend some time with him instead of Elena? And what the hell would the excuse to Elena be?

  Elena knew that Gabe had been intrigued by Addison’s texts, but he wasn’t so sure she’d want two friends hooking up. Being in the middle of something like that had the potential to be messy. Elena wanted the job remodeling the bar and if Gabe and Addison ended badly, it might make it awkward for him and Elena to work together.

  But he didn’t care. He wanted Addison.

  Elena just didn’t need to know about it.

  “So get back to work. Those ladies look thirsty,” Logan said, heading out into the restaurant.

  “I hope you feel better soon,” Gabe told him.

  “I hope you do too.” Logan gave him a wink.

  Oh, he intended to.

  Gabe pivoted and made a beeline for Addison. And Elena. Of course. Despite the fact that Caleb and James, two of Gabe’s best friends, had just taken seats at the bar. The guys were firefighters at the station just a few blocks away and had been getting after-shift drinks here for the past two years.

  He gave them a nod to show he’d seen them, but Addison had been in his bar for ten minutes now and that was about nine minutes longer than it should have taken to introduce himself to this woman he’d been thinking about ever since she’d sent eggplant and elephant emojis via text. He hadn’t just liked the heels. He’d liked her sense of humor and playfulness. He knew she’d thought she was texting with Elena and he liked that even more. She was surely being fully herself with she thought she was texting with a girlfriend.

  “Evenin’, ladies,” he greeted with a grin first to Elena and then to Addison.

  His gaze caught on her big brown eyes and he realized he was going to have to make a conscious effort to remember to talk to Elena too.

  “Hi, Gabe,” Elena said.

  He pulled his attention back to her. “What can I get you?” Then he glanced at Addison. “And please don’t say a hurricane.” He gave her a wink.

  She smiled. “You don’t know how to make a hurricane?”

  He chuckled. “You can’t get your liquor license in New Orleans without proving you know how to make a hurricane.” The drink had been invented at one of the most famous bars in the Quarter, Pat O’Brien’s, and they served them by the gallons over there. But they didn’t make the best ones. Several places served them and a few even did it pretty well. Pierre Maspero’s, for instance. But no one could touch the recipe Ellie Landry used at her tiny dive bar just outside the bayou town of Autre, Louisiana.

  So Gabe didn’t even try.

  “If you want a hurricane, I’ll take you to the best place for them in Louisiana,” he said. Though why he’d said “take you” instead of “send you,” he wasn’t sure. “Just like if you want gumbo, I won’t serve it to you, because if you’re gonna eat gumbo, you’re gonna do it right and that means havin’ my grandma’s. Now,” he said, taking out a glass and filling it part-way with lemonade. “If you want a Pimm’s cup that will make you wonder how you ever drank anything else, or seafood pot pie that you’ll dream about, or brown butter pecan pie that you’ll want to roll around in, then you’ve come to the right place.”

  Addison looked at Elena with wide eyes. “Brown butter pecan pie?”

  Elena laughed. “Yeah. And it’s that good. It’s how Gabe and Logan get all the ladies.”

  Addison looked back at Gabe. She lifted a brow. “Which one are you?”

  “Gabe.” He pointed behind her. “That’s my brother Logan.”

  Addison glanced over to where Logan was setting plates of food down in front of customers. She looked back. “You both need pie to get ladies?”

  “No one said need,” he told her with a grin.

  “What do you know about pralines?”

  “I can make you a praline milkshake that will make you want to propose to me,” he told her honestly.

  “Huh. What’s in that?”

  Playful. That was exactly his impression of her from the texts, and he couldn’t begin to describe how amazing it was to find out she was the same in person. “Whiskey, caramel, ice cream and—”

  “Say no more,” she said. “I want that.”

  “You got a ring in your pocket?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Maybe we New York girls are harder to impress than the girls you’ve been feeding whiskey to.”

  Yeah, maybe. And damned if he didn’t want to find out what it would take with this one. He reached for one of the mugs they served the milkshakes in.

  “Oh, hell, I proposed to him without any whiskey or pralines,” Elena said, taking the Pimm’s Cup he’d set down and tipping it back for a swallow.

  “Wait.” Addison looked over at her friend. “Gabe? This is the guy you thought you’d married in Vegas?” She looked back at Gabe.

  Elena took another drink, then laughed. “This is the one.”

  Addison’s gaze never left his face, but Gabe felt as if she was studying him—all of him—intently, and his body responded.

  “Huh,” she finally said.

  “In her defense, it was the Grand Canyon,” he said.

  Addison laughed.

  Gabe blended the milkshake, drizzled caramel sauce up and down the inside of the mug, then poured the concoction in. He passed it across the bar.

  “I never do stuff like this.”

  “Propose to bartenders you’ve just met?”

  She gave him a grin. “Drink milkshakes.”

  He didn’t doubt it. She was trim and firm, curved perfectly in all the right places. He didn’t even have to look her up and down to know. He’d memorized it all as she’d walked toward his bar. Evidently.

  Then she wrapped her lips around the straw and gave a little suck and in that instant, Gabe’s entire body went hard. And when she closed her eyes and gave a little moan, Gabe wanted to reach across the bar, take her hair in his hand, and kiss her so deeply he’d taste the caramel on her tongue.

  Her eyes opened and she met his gaze. “So, I assume there are jewelry stores open tomorrow where I can get you a ring?”

  The heat and the humor hit him all at once and he chuckled over the top of a low groan.

  Just then, because his brother was awesome and read the situation across the room, or because Karma really did love Gabe today, Logan came up behind Elena and said, “Hey, El, come tell me all about your brilliant ideas for the old fountain out back.”

  “Out back” meant the courtyard behind Trahan’s. It was quintessential New Orleans and the stone paved area with the central fountain had been photographed and mentioned in travel guides many times. Of course an architect hell-bent on restoring Trahan’s to its old glory would be all over that courtyard.

  Elena’s eyes widened and she pivoted quickly. “Really?”

  Logan shrugged as if it was no big deal. “You wanna mess around with our place, you’re gonna to have to have some great ideas, girl. Let’s hear ‘em.”

  “I have so many,” Elena promised him, hopping to the floor and starting for the back without even waiting for Logan.

  Logan rolled his eyes and shot Gabe a grin.

  Yep, best brother ever.

  Gabe only waited two seconds before leaning in and saying to Addison, “Have beignets with me tomorrow and I’ll take you to any store you want to see.”

  Addison’s eyes lit up. They practically sparkled as she said, “Beignets? Really?”

  Jesus, he’d cover anything in powdered sugar to see that look on her face. He nodded. “Really.”

  She tipped her head, her smile downright seductive. “Okay. Where should I meet you in the morning?”

  “Well, there are two options,” he said.

  “Okay.”
/>   “You can meet right out front of the tavern. Or”—he dropped his voice a little lower—“you can meet me in the shower.”

  He never moved quite this quickly. But he didn’t regret one word. If she wanted to just meet him in the morning for beignets and coffee, he’d happily take her walking and shopping through the Quarter. And that was even more unlike him. He loved the French Quarter. He’d grown up in this tavern on this street. His actual childhood home was off of St. Charles Avenue, but this tavern had been in the family for generations. This place felt just as much like home as his mother’s house did.

  But he didn’t sight-see and shop and stroll in the French Quarter. For fuck’s sake.

  The other shop owners around here were going to think this was hilarious. Or that he’d hit his head.

  “Well, it just so happens that I start every day with a shower,” Addison said. “So I guess that could work.”

  Her voice was a little husky, her pupils were dilated, and Gabe felt a jolt of heat and a sense of fuck yeah that was unprecedented.

  What was she doing?

  Addison watched as Gabe’s gaze flared with heat and her heart started to race. She was flirting, that’s what she was doing. Which was right up there with mountain climbing and watching horror movies—things she never did because they scared her.

  But she wasn’t just flirting. She’d more or less just agreed to spend the night with him. And the tingles and heat she was feeling seemed a lot more like excitement than fear.

  With this rush, she could suddenly understand the addiction to adrenaline.

  “So, I need to go wait on a couple of people.” Gabe inclined his head toward the two men sitting midway down the bar. The ones who had been clearing their throats and drumming their fingers on the top of the bar and commenting on how thirsty they were for the past several minutes.

  Addison smiled. “Yeah, I guess I can’t take up all of your attention.”

  “Well, at least not right now,” he said. “But I close up at two and then I’m all yours. If you want me.”