Sweet Home Louisiana Read online

  She should correct him about the “home” thing like she had Owen. But she swallowed and forced a smile. “Hey, Sawyer.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed before dropping it. Yeah, Sawyer wasn’t really a touchy-feely guy.

  “Good to see you,” he said. He was studying her carefully.

  He was worried. She could see it. Feel it. Sawyer had always been a bit protective, but it seemed to have been dialed up a few notches. Was he worried she was mad about being here? And that she might burn something of his down? Or just about her in general? She’d just lost her brother. She was being forced to be here. By him. He had reason to worry about her emotional state, she supposed.

  She gave him a smile. It was a little forced, but not entirely. It wasn’t Sawyer’s fault that having someone feel protective of her made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want anyone feeling responsible for her.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out where that came from. Her father, feeling protective of Maddie’s mom, had tried to kill a guy and had landed himself in prison. Tommy and Owen, both feeling protective of her, had crashed through a window and spent the night in the hospital. Feeling protective of Owen, she had set a guy’s shed on fire—and it easily could have been his house—and had stolen a car—kind of—and spent a night in jail herself.

  That’s what happened when you really cared about someone. Cared to your very bones. Cared to the point that you would sacrifice everything. It made you freaking crazy.

  She didn’t want that. For any of them. She couldn’t keep these people from caring about each other, but she could absolutely not be a part of it.

  And if Sawyer was concerned about her, Owen definitely would be. Sawyer would try to snap her out of it with a crawfish boil, her favorite locally made root beer, and talk of the good old days. Owen, on the other hand, might end up in jail or the hospital again. Or in the hospital on the way to jail.

  She really needed to persuade them that she was fine and didn’t want anything to do with Boys of the Bayou or Autre. She just had to prove to them that she was over all of this. Owen had confirmed the theory she’d been mulling over. These people were proud and loyal and protective. If she didn’t want the things they did—very especially the business and the family—that would offend them and they would easily let her go.

  It wasn’t a lie. She didn’t want the business. She really didn’t. What did she want with a swamp boat tour and fishing company? She had the Pacific Ocean. The massive, gloriously beautiful Pacific Ocean. She didn’t need the dirty, kind of creepy bayou. And owning it from afar wasn’t a good option, either. She definitely did not want to keep getting those checks in the mail.

  Plus it was hot here. Not hot. But holy-shit-it’s hot. And the humidity—God, the humidity. Then there were the bugs. There were lots. Big ones. Also, Cora’s gumbo was going to give her heartburn. She couldn’t handle the spices anymore. She hadn’t had a single drop of Tabasco in a decade, and she hadn’t eaten any breaded, fried meat in almost seven years.

  This was just not her place anymore.

  But she was going to have to convince them of that while they were trying to convince her that she missed all of this and wanted to get back to her roots. She didn’t doubt for a second that Owen, Sawyer, and Josh loved the Boys of the Bayou. They got to boat on the bayou, fish, hunt, laugh, tease, and be outdoors in the sun and fresh air. And now they got paid for it. It was the perfect job for them. But she also knew that fifty-percent of their love of the company was that it was a part of the family. In their minds, all it would take was her being here for a month, being a part of this life, to never want to let it go. She didn’t know if they thought she’d actually move down here and start over, but it was clear they thought they could tap into her loyalty and love for Autre and the Landrys, and that would keep her from cutting ties.

  She really needed to cut those ties. She needed to use these thirty days to show them that she didn’t fit here and that they didn’t want her here.

  But there were more of them.

  And they had pecan pie.

  This was definitely going to be a battle.

  “I think I might have already dropped a couple pounds from the sweating,” she told Sawyer. “I guess that’s one perk of this trip.”

  He chuckled softly. “California isn’t really the arctic.”

  “No, but it’s not a sauna in an oven on the surface of the sun, either.”

  He lifted a brow. “That’s dramatic.”

  “So is insisting that I come over two thousand miles and stay for a month-long staff meeting.”

  His smile grew. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I didn’t really have a choice, did I?”

  Of course, that was thanks to Leo and Kenny more than it was Sawyer’s doing. The two old men had drawn up a partnership agreement that was, even according to Maddie’s lawyer, legal and binding. Even if it was unconventional.

  Unconventional. What a word. Everything about this town and her situation here was un-freaking-conventional.

  If she wanted to get rid of her share of Boys of the Bayou, she not only had to sell it for fair market value or greater, she had to jump through a few hoops. Crazy, only-Leo-and-Kenny-would-come-up-with-this hoops.

  A thin line of sweat trickled down her spine just then reminding her that yeah, no matter how tempting the pecans and laughter and…okay, Owen…were, it was too damned hot to live here now that she’d gotten used to the San Francisco Bay area.

  “Madison Evangeline Allain!” Josh, the third of her partners and Sawyer’s younger brother, pushed to the front of the little crowd, cutting off any argument she and Sawyer might have gotten into about him coercing her into coming. Josh pulled her into a big hug and said softly in her ear, “Sawyer’s a pretty great big brother, if you need one.”

  And she was suddenly at risk of crying again. She did need one. Hers was gone. And while Tommy had been damned stubborn over the last twelve years about cutting her off and letting her start fresh in California, she knew that he’d done what he thought was best. Being an asshole to her had been his way of taking care of her. But dammit, he’d given her sixteen pretty great years before that.

  She sniffed and pulled back, giving Josh a wobbly smile. “Yeah, I guess you turned out pretty good.”

  “And I’m happy to fill in, too.” He gave her an affectionate grin.

  “Thanks.”

  “And the camping trip is going to be fun. I promise.”

  Right. The camping trip. One of the stipulations in the partnership agreement. Apparently Leo and Kenny had decided that the only reason one of them would be trying to get out of the partnership would be because they’d had a fight and that any conflict between them could be settled the way it had been since they were eight—with a camping trip.

  The camping trip that she was not going on. She’d sit around a campfire in Cora’s backyard or something, but no way was she spending the night in Leo’s old cabin.

  Sawyer knew that. At least she assumed he knew that. She didn’t camp anymore. She didn’t get on airboats—which was the only way to get to the cabin. She didn’t sleep in bunkbeds—which were the only things to sleep on out there. She didn’t go without internet access—which was a complete joke out there. Yeah, there was no way in hell she was going to stay out there in that ramshackle “cabin” with Sawyer, Josh, and Owen overnight to work out their business problems.

  But she’d agreed to come to Autre, hoping to placate them by at least showing up in person to discuss all of this. Besides, she was going to meet with Bennett Baxter, the guy who was interested in her share, and it made sense to meet him in person. And be here when he came to check things out. Because God knew what these guys—hell, the whole group of friends and family—would do or say to dissuade him from buying.

  “Okay, time for the partners’ meeting,” Sawyer interrupted, pulling Josh back. He smiled down at Maddie. “Come on. Let’s head over to the office. We have a lot to talk about.�
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  “The office?” Kennedy called out. “I just got my fries!”

  “The partner meeting,” Sawyer said.

  “Oh, come on!” Leo protested. “We want to hear.”

  “This is about Boys of the Bayou,” Sawyer said.

  “We let you hear about all the plans for this place,” Ellie said.

  “You have plans for this place?” Josh asked, looking around.

  “We put a new roof on.”

  “Because there was water pouring in on top of the back tables every time it rained,” Josh said with a laugh.

  “Still.” Ellie shrugged. “You got to hear all about it.”

  “We couldn’t really help it,” Sawyer said. “Bill was the roofer and he was in here for lunch when you were talking about it.”

  “Still.”

  That was how it went with Ellie. Maddie felt a tug at the corner of her mouth. She remembered Ellie’s stubbornness.

  “Well, Maddie can’t make it to the partner meeting if it’s not here,” Cora announced. “She hasn’t had lunch yet.”

  “Oh,” Maddie started. “I’m not—”

  “I’ve got shrimp and cheesy grits.”

  Damn. It wasn’t pecan pie, but it would take a much stronger woman than Maddie was to turn down Cora’s cheesy grits.

  She would not be worn down by grits. She had to be tougher than that.

  Bugs. Heat. Humidity. No spa or gym for forty miles. The heat.

  “She’d better eat something.” Owen was suddenly beside her again. “She had a few snorts of Kenny’s whiskey in the office. Could definitely use some grits to soak that up.”

  Maddie opened her mouth to say that she was only feeling mildly buzzed—which, in a previous life, would have been something to brag about. Kenny’s moonshine was strong stuff. But Sawyer frowned at them before she could reply.

  “You two were drinkin’ in the office before you came in here?”

  Owen suddenly looked like he’d been caught taking candy before dinner. He looked at Maddie. Blew out a breath. Then nodded. “Yeah. But only for—”

  “She kiss you?” Leo asked.

  Maddie opened her mouth to protest but she was again interrupted. She was maybe a little slow because of the booze. Or maybe because she was out of practice interacting with the people who all talked at once, talked over one another, and said whatever was on their minds.

  “No.” Owen glared at his grandfather.

  “You kiss her?” Leo asked.

  “No. Knock it off,” Owen told him.

  “Anything on fire anywhere?” Ellie asked with a smirk.

  “Hilarious,” Owen told her dryly. “You’re all really hilarious.”

  Maddie felt her cheeks burning. Yeah, so maybe she’d set a couple of things on fire. But that was twelve years ago. And one had been an accident. Geez. She wasn’t going to burn things down just because Owen kissed her.

  Probably.

  “Nope, nothin’s burnin’,” Kennedy called, holding up her phone. “Checked Facebook.”

  Autre was tiny. Someone, probably multiple someones, would definitely have posted any fires or other emergencies to the town’s Facebook page. Hopefully, someone would also call 9-1-1. But it wasn’t impossible to think that the volunteer firefighters would first find out about a blaze from social media. The grapevine here might just be faster than a 9-1-1 dispatcher.

  “They must not have messed around then,” Ellie decided. “Yet.”

  Maddie frowned at them all. “Of course we haven’t kissed. Or anything else.” She said it with a tone that clearly conveyed how absurd that idea was. “I’ve been here for like thirty minutes.” Not that she would kiss Owen even if she’d been here longer. They were twelve years, a lot of regrets, and a lot of growing up past kissing each other.

  There might have been a moment or two when she’d remembered what it was like to kiss him. Hot. Consuming. Crazy-inducing. All excellent reasons not to do it. Even if he was the best kissing she’d ever had. Ever. And he’d only been seventeen and pretty new to it all. God only knew what he’d be like now. She’d probably end up burning the whole town down.

  She had to very definitely, absolutely, no-question-about-it not kiss him.

  It was really unfair that she’d already seen him without his shirt on. Because damn, twelve years of growing up and developing and doing manual labor outside in the sun had been very, very kind to Owen Landry and his abs and biceps.

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t take thirty minutes to set a fire,” Leo said.

  “None of you really think that she set anything on fire,” Owen said. “Stop it.”

  “I don’t mean a fire like that,” Leo said. “I mean that fire.” He waggled his finger back and forth between Maddie and Owen.

  Maddie felt her cheeks start to burn a little from blushing. They were all being ridiculous but that’s what this group of people did best. “Okay, very funny,” she said. “But the shed and…everything else…was a long time ago.”

  “Sparks like that don’t burn out,” Leo said. “They just lay banked, waiting for some kindling.”

  Maddie sighed. They really needed a new topic. “Partner meeting time, right, Sawyer?”

  “Really?” Owen asked his grandpa. “Cuz you and Ellie’s sparks burned out.”

  Leo and Ellie were now divorced, even though they were still good friends and—clearly—spent time together.

  Maddie groaned. He needed to let it go. They all needed to let this go.

  Leo shot Ellie a glance and gave her a grin. “Like I said, that kind of fire doesn’t burn out.”

  “You’re divorced,” Maddie heard herself point out. She needed to shut up, too.

  “Doesn’t mean the spark’s gone,” Ellie said matter-of-factly. “We’re still hot for each other, we just can’t live together.”

  Maddie sighed.

  “Trevor know you’re still hot for Leo?” Josh asked, referring to Ellie’s boyfriend.

  Maddie had never met the man and found it all bizarre, but she knew about Trevor, the New Orleans attorney who was twenty years younger than Ellie and, apparently, thought she walked on water. Kennedy, thankfully, had no filter, just like the rest of the Landrys, and she posted everything on Facebook. That worked for Maddie as a communication tool because she could look when she was ready and didn’t have to reply. She could stay up to date on the family and Autre in a general sense, but she didn’t have to be involved.

  “Sure he does,” Ellie said.

  “He trusts you not to act on it?” Josh asked, seeming almost fascinated.

  “Of course,” Ellie said with a frown.

  One thing that was an absolute truth—the Landrys were loyal people. When they made a promise, they kept it.

  Which was why this partnership agreement was so important. And binding. Even if it hadn’t been legally binding, the guys would have wanted to follow it to the letter. Family roots and doing what you said you were going to do were hallmarks of this group of people.

  “Well there was that one time…” Leo trailed off.

  Ellie slapped his arm. “Trevor and I were on a break.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened. Sawyer gave a little groan and took her elbow. “Let’s change this subject.”

  She was all for that. Besides not needing any further details about Leo and Ellie rekindling their “fire” once in a while, she really didn’t need to be thinking about rekindling fires of any kind down here. Especially given the…smoldering…going on between her and Owen.

  3

  They made their way toward the back of the bar, people parting like Sawyer was Moses. Mitch and another guy Maddie didn’t know were pulling tables together to make one big, rickety conference table.

  But Maddie’s attention was pulled to Kennedy Landry, who was sitting at the end of the bar, her feet—in black combat boots—propped on the stool next to her. Her black hair was streaked with purple, her eye makeup was a thick, bold mix of the same colors, and her nose and ear p
iercings glinted in the lights that hung over the bar. It was a sharp contrast to the beauty queen Maddie had known growing up, but Kennedy had started her feminist rebellion against the pageants and what she deemed their “superficial emphasis on defining what makes a woman worthy of attention” when she was thirteen. On stage. At the last beauty pageant she ever entered. She’d left the stage in the semifinals looking like a sweet southern belle and come back out for the finals with jet-black hair, temporary tattoos, a not-so-temporary series of ear piercings, and, yes, combat boots. She’d lost, but she’d made her point, and Maddie had been the person applauding loudest from the audience.

  Kennedy gave Maddie a huge grin and a little salute with one of her chili cheese fries.

  Maddie grinned back. She’d always really liked Kennedy. The other woman was a couple years younger than Maddie but their families had spent so much time together, Kennedy felt like a cousin or even a sister. The only two girls in a group with an overload of testosterone, they’d stuck together. They’d drifted apart, too, over the years. Maddie just hadn’t had the energy to stay close to anyone in Autre, and Kennedy had only been fourteen when Maddie had left. She’d had a full life, revolving entirely around Autre, and Maddie had figured it was easiest, for them both, to just live their own lives.

  “So Maddie was on this horrible date for Valentine’s Day,” Maddie heard Kennedy say as she drew closer.

  She noticed that Kennedy was talking to another woman. One Maddie didn’t know. “Hang on, I want to say hi to Kennedy,” she said to Sawyer.

  He gave her a nod and went over to help the guys arrange the tables and to tell Josh and Owen that it was too early for beer and to help Cora, who had started carrying plates to the tables.

  It looked a lot more like a family dinner than a business meeting but that just further emphasized how this business worked. You couldn’t untangle the family from the business or vice versa.

  Maddie felt her stomach knot a little. She wasn’t really family, anymore, but Tommy had been. These guys had been like brothers to him. Why didn’t you just leave the business to them? she asked her brother silently for the millionth time.