CHAPTER 10
Aurelie walked with Beau into the Broussard Country Store.
They hadn’t gone three steps inside when a small child raced toward them, slammed into Beau’s legs, giggled and shouted over his shoulder, “Can’t catch me!”
“Yes, I can!” Another little boy rounded the end of a row of shelves containing an array of potato chips, nuts and candy.
“Alan, Jr!” A woman’s voice called out. “Stop right there!”
The trailing boy skidded to a stop and turned around. “But Bodie hit me with a shoe.”
“I don’t care what he hit you with. You know the rules. No running in the store. Bodie. Here. Now.”
The little boy who’d run into Beau slipped behind him.
Chrissy Broussard, the store owner’s wife, appeared at the end of the aisles. When she spotted the adults standing in the doorway, her eyes widened. “Oh. Sorry. Alan had to run some groceries to Widow Willie. She’s not feeling well enough to get out and do her own shopping. I’m managing the store and five hellions at once. Two of them escaped the back room where I have the one-eyed babysitter tuned into cartoons.”
Beau frowned.
Chrissy sighed. “One-eyed babysitter? Never heard it called that?” She shook her head. “Television.”
Beau chuckled. “You should call Gerard. I’m sure he’d come help.”
“I did. He and Bernie are in the middle of harvesting their melon patches. They’re short hands and couldn’t spare a minute. Besides, Alan said he’d only be fifteen minutes.” Chrissy checked the watch on her wrist. “And that was thirty minutes ago. I’m sure Willie is talking non-stop. She loves visitors and hasn’t gotten many since her daughter and son-in-law moved to Houston.” She looked up and forced a smile. “Who have you got with you?”
Beau turned. “Chrissy Broussard, this is Auri,” he said, shortening her name at the last second in case anyone came asking if Aurelie Anderson had been seen in town. “She’s a friend of mine.”
Chrissy held out her hand with a smile. “Auri, what a pretty name. Welcome to our little store.”
Aurelie shook Chrissy’s hand. “Nice to meet you. You have a lovely store. It’s very?—”
“Cluttered, disorganized, a zoo with children running down the aisles?” Chrissy gave a harried laugh.
“I was going to say quaint and kind of retro.” Aurelie looked around. “I like the old-fashioned feel.”
Chrissy smiled at Beau. “I like your friend.” She turned back to Aurelie. “I’m working on reorganizing products on the shelves, so it can be confusing trying to find things. Tell me what you want, and I’ll help you locate it.”
Aurelie glanced at Beau first, then faced Chrissy. “I could use some shampoo and conditioner.”
“Perfect. I just started stocking some of the name brands that are so popular.” She turned to the boy at her side. “Alan, Jr., take Bodie to the back room. You can all have a cookie if you’re nice. Just one. I don’t want you bouncing off the walls before bedtime.” She looped Aurelie’s hand around her elbow. “Come with me. I’ll get you fixed up.”
Bodie left his safe space behind Beau’s legs and hurried to follow his brother to the back of the store, where they’d enjoy a cookie before bed.
Beau’s gaze followed the two women as they headed for the health and beauty aisle. Keeping an eye on the door, he grabbed a cart and headed for the food and produce section, where he selected shrimp, chicken, smoked sausage, rice, a small package of flour, chicken broth, butter, salt, pepper and Cajun seasoning. In the produce department, he chose an onion, celery and carrots. All the ingredients he needed for gumbo the way his mother made it. He might not know how to cook many things, but gumbo was something he’d mastered as a teen. He picked up bananas, apples, grapes, crackers and cheese for snacks, a carton of eggs and a pound of bacon for breakfast. He added orange juice, coffee, creamer, a bottle of red wine and a loaf of bread to the cart and rolled it to the checkout counter.
Chrissy and Aurelie soon joined him with their arms full of shampoo, conditioner, a brush, curling iron, moisturizer and an assortment of makeup.
As Aurelie passed him, she murmured quietly, “I’ll pay you back.” She glanced at his cart and blinked. “Are you planning to feed an army?”
“Maybe.” Beau shrugged.
Chrissy chuckled. “Hungry?”
“It’s never good to shop for food when you’re hungry.”
“Tell me about it. We still have to cook all this.”
“Then I better check you out so you can get going.” Chrissy quickly rang up their purchases.
Beau paid with his credit card, and the three of them fit all the groceries into plastic bags.
When they were done, Chrissy smiled. “I hope to see you again soon, Auri. You’ll like Bayou Mambaloa. We’re lucky that the Brotherhood Protectors chose our little town as their southern headquarters. They’re a great group of men. Remy saved my sister’s life. I can’t sing their praises loud enough.”
“Thank you for all your help and making me feel welcome,” Aurelie said.
They carried the bag of groceries out and stowed them in the back seat of the pickup.
Beau drove the short distance to the other side of town, turned off Main Street and onto the road leading to the secluded house on the bayou.
He found the location incredibly beautiful in its solitude. No houses were nearby, no noisy roads with trucks rumbling or motorcycles roaring past all day and night. If he liked it enough, he might consider purchasing the house and land. Yeah, it needed a lot of work to bring it up to date, but he was handy with tools, and there was always an online video with instructions on just about everything.
It would be everything he’d dreamed of owning, but it needed more than just handiwork to make it a home.
It needed a woman. Immediately, Aurelie came to mind. He could picture her sitting beside him in one of the rocking chairs on the porch with half a dozen children playing at their feet. Some of them would have her dark hair and brown eyes. The rest would be blond with his blue eyes.
What was he thinking? You didn’t start thinking of marriage and children with a woman you’d only met the night before. It took time to get to know each other and fall in love, didn’t it?
As he parked in front of the house, Beau’s breath lodged in his throat. He stared at the house, the images in his mind running rampant.
This was crazy. Hunger was making him hallucinate. There was no other reason for him to dream of being married to Aurelie and spawning so many children.
She was a senator’s daughter used to country clubs and formal events. She’d never go for a guy who would be happiest living in a backwater town on the bayou.
Focus.
Beau pulled his gun out of the console, shoved open his door and leaped out as if his seat were on fire. After shoving the pistol into his waistband, he slung her gym bag over his shoulder, grabbed most of the grocery bags and hurried up the steps of the porch.
“You must be starving.” Aurelie followed a few steps behind, carrying the rest of the bags.
“I am,” he said. “And we still have to cook the food.”
“I’m still mad at you,” she said, “but I’ll help.”
“So noted.” Beau inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. He stepped across the threshold and turned to her. “Stand just inside the door while I check for intruders.”
She entered, closed the door behind her and waited while he made a quick pass through the cottage.
Beau dropped his bags by the door, pulled the gun from his waistband and then checked all the rooms and closets before he returned to her. “All clear.”
Aurelie still held bags of groceries in her hands as she stared at him, her jaw tight, her chin raised. “I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”
“What? The part about making dinner or the part about staying here?”
“The part about staying here with you,” she said.
He tucked the gun in his belt and gathered his bags. “I’m sorry. I can’t undo what’s been done, but I’ll do my best to make it up to you by cooking the best gumbo in the bayou.” He carried the bags into the kitchen and laid them on the counter.
“Gumbo doesn’t erase the lies,” she said as she followed him.
“I know.” Beau couldn’t win this argument and had no intention of trying. She’d been hurt by the lies of a married man. He stopped emptying the bags, crossed to where she stood and took her hands in his.
When she started to pull away, he held on a little tighter, but not so tight that she couldn’t free herself if she really wanted to.
“I know that trust is hard won and never given lightly,” he said. “I’ve violated your trust. You have every right to be angry with me. I wish you weren’t mad, but I take full responsibility for my actions.”
“As you should,” she whispered.
He stared down into her eyes. “You have no reason to believe me, but I want you to know that if you choose to have someone else protect you, I’ll understand. And though each one of my teammates is qualified to keep you safe, I would continue to shadow you until the bastard who nearly killed you last night is captured and put behind bars.” He squeezed her hands gently, then let them go. “Now, let me cook that gumbo. You might feel better with a full belly.”
“Food won’t fix everything,” she warned.
“Obviously, you haven’t had my gumbo.” Beau gave her a playful wink and finished unloading the bags.
Aurelie dug through the cabinets and found a cutting board, stock pot, saucepan, ladles and knives.
Beau washed out the sink and filled it with warm water and some dish soap he found in the cabinet below the sink. He made quick work of washing everything thoroughly before placing the stockpot and the saucepan on the stove.
After cleaning the chicken, he placed it in the stockpot, filled it with water and fired up the burner. Next, he added a heavy dose of Cajun seasoning and pepper.
Aurelie came behind him and added more Cajun seasoning.
He chuckled. “So, you like it spicy?”
She nodded.
He patted his chest. “A woman after my own heart.”
While the chicken cooked, he worked alongside Aurelie, chopping celery, onions and carrots and added them to the stockpot with the chicken.
Beau liked working alongside the senator’s daughter in a comfortable silence. At least on his part. For all he knew, she could have been quietly dreaming up ways to make him suffer for lying to her. He chose to think otherwise and enjoyed the simple tasks of preparing food together. He could get used to bumping into her in the kitchen.
While in the Army, he’d given up on the idea of marriage, settling down roots and raising a family.
Now that he was back in Bayou Mambaloa, he remembered how good it felt to have a home and family.
In a saucepan, he dropped a stick of butter, let it melt and then added flour, stirring constantly until it formed a thick brown roux.
When the chicken was practically falling off the bone, Beau fished it out of the stockpot, deboned and pulled it apart. He added the meat back to the stockpot along with the shrimp and sausage. He stirred in the roux and let it simmer while he cleaned the saucepan, filled it with water and set it on the stove to boil for the rice.
Aurelie stood over the stockpot, inhaling the flavorful steam rising from the gumbo. “It smells amazing.”
“Tastes even better,” Beau said. “It’ll be another twenty minutes before the rice is done.”
“I’m going to get a shower and put on some of my own clothes,” Aurelie said. “Unless you need help with anything else.”
Beau shook his head. “I’ve got it under control. It’ll be ready when you are.”
After Aurelie left the kitchen, Beau explored all the cabinets, making note of what needed to be cleaned, tossed and donated. If they weren’t on the road to Baton Rouge the next day, they could start in the kitchen, sorting through Pearson’s belongings.
It seemed sad to be sorting through a stranger’s things, making decisions about whether to toss, donate or save items. Beau hoped that his family had loved him while he was alive and visited him often. Most of the items in the kitchen were old, yellowed or chipped. The pots and pans had loose or missing handles.
He wandered into the tiny dining room, which had an old mahogany dining table and matching chairs that needed the seats recovered. The wood had stood the test of time. The chairs could be recovered, and the set would work for someone for another forty or fifty years.
In a cabinet against the wall, he found a nice set of porcelain dishes with a delicate rose pattern. He took two bowls from the set, found a couple of wine glasses and two settings of silverware, and carried them to the kitchen, where he washed and dried them.
With a rag he found in one of the kitchen drawers, he washed the dining table and placed the silverware and wine glasses on one end.
Back in the kitchen, he poured rice into boiling water and then searched through all the drawers until he located a corkscrew. He pulled the cork on the wine bottle and set it on the table along with a small plate of crackers and cheese and two candles he’d found in a drawer of the china cabinet.
By the time Aurelie returned to the kitchen, the rice was done, the table was set and wine had been poured.
“I thought we’d serve up the gumbo at the stove and carry it into the dining room,” he said.
Aurelie scooped rice into her bowl and used the ladle to pour the gumbo on top.
Beau did the same.
They carried their bowls into the dining room and laid them on the table.
He held a chair for her and then sat in the one next to hers.
With a dramatic wave of his hand, Beau lifted his spoon. “Bon appetit.”
Aurelie dug into the gumbo, blew on the spoonful to cool it, then took a bite. She closed her eyes as she chewed, softly moaning. After she swallowed, she looked across the table at him. “Wow. That’s amazing.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you liked it. I’m hoping to bribe myself back into your good graces.”
“It’ll take a lot more than gumbo to get there,” she said. “But this is a good start.”
“That’s all I can ask.” He took a bite of the gumbo. As he chewed, he stole glances her way, loving how she got totally into eating the meal down to the very last bite, taking sips of wine along the way.
When they were done, they carried their dishes into the kitchen and worked together to rinse and stack them in the dishwasher.
Aurelie found a plastic storage container in a cabinet large enough to hold the rest of the gumbo.
They washed and dried the container and its lid, poured in the rice and gumbo and stored it in the refrigerator.
After they’d finished in the kitchen, Beau went around the house, checking door and window locks. When he was satisfied that the locks would hold, he ducked into the single bathroom for a shower.
Aurelie had spent time scrubbing the tub, removing the shadow of a ring and making the old porcelain tub shine.
He rinsed the tub, dried off and wrapped the towel around his hips. Unlike Aurelie, Beau hadn’t thought ahead to bring in his backpack that he kept stuffed behind the backseat in his truck, ready to go at a moment’s notice.
With all intentions of wearing the same clothes he’d had on before the shower, he picked up his jeans from the floor, only to discover they were soaked. Apparently, he hadn’t closed the shower curtain securely. Now, there was a puddle on the floor. His jeans had been lying in the middle of it.
His truck was only a few short steps away from the cottage. Rather than dress in sodden jeans, he could march his dumb ass out to his truck, grab his backpack and return in less than a minute. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t run into Aurelie on the way out or the way back.
Beau stepped out of the bathroom and almost ran into Aurelie where she stood precariously on a rickety chair, unscrewing the globe on a ceiling light fixture.
When she looked his way, she lost her balance and the chair teetered.
Beau darted forward and caught her before she hit the floor. In the process, he released the grip on his towel, and it dropped to the floor. He held her in his arms, crushing her to his chest, his pulse racing. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I was trying to change the lightbulb.”
Beau blew out a shaky breath. “Geez, woman. Let me help you with those. I’m a little taller.”
“I could’ve done it myself,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “But if you have somebody nearby, it’s always good if they have your back.”
“True.” Aurelie grimaced. “Even better if you use a proper stepladder, instead of an old chair.” She glanced down at the remains of the wooden chair that lay in splinters on the floor.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll clean that up.”
“It’s okay. I’ll do it,” Aurelie said. “As soon as you put me down.”
Beau shook his head. “Not a good idea,” he said. “Not unless you want to get an eyeful.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Beau’s lips twisted into a broad grin. “It was either catch you or save my dignity.” He gave a pointed look at the towel lying on the floor.
Aurelie’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O. “I see,” she said. “What if I close my eyes?”
He grinned. “That’s totally up to you.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I’m closing my eyes.” And she did.
Beau lowered her legs, and let her body slide down his naked one. His arms remained around her, holding her close until she was steady on her feet.
Aurelie rested her hands on his bare chest and opened her eyes. Making no move to step away, she looked up into his eyes, her lips parting ever so softly.
Electricity zinged through his body from every point where she touched him, making his pulse race and blood heat.
“I just want to know one thing,” she said.
“Yes,” he croaked, barely able to push air past his strangled vocal cords.
Her tongue swept across rosy lips.
At that moment, he wanted to kiss her so badly it was almost a physical pain to resist.
“That kiss…” she whispered, “was it all part of the lie?”
Beau’s control snapped. He bent and claimed those lips in a hard, desperate kiss. One hand clamped on the small of her back, pressing her close while the other cupped the back of her head, bringing her in impossibly closer. He plundered her mouth, pushing his tongue past her teeth to caress hers in long, languorous strokes.
The hands on his chest slid upward, lacing behind his neck. Her body leaned into his.
Time stood still as Beau lost himself in her arms.
When breathing became a necessity, he reluctantly raised his head and stared down at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “It wasn’t a lie,” he said his voice gruff.
“That wasn’t just a kiss?”
Beau groaned. “No.”
“I know my father hired you,” she said. “You don’t have to pretend to keep me in line.”
Beau laughed. “Does this feel like I’m pretending?” He pulled her hips against his, his engorged cock nudging her soft belly. “Woman, you do crazy things to me. You make me lose control. And, sweetheart, that can be dangerous.”
Her eyes widened, and her breathing became more ragged. Slowly, she shook her head. “But a man can feel lust without making a deep connection.”
“True,” he said, “but I’ve never lost control with a woman before. Now, either you step away, or I’m going to lose my mind.”
She stared up into his eyes. “I found clean sheets in the closet. I used them to make the bed in the master bedroom.” She left the words hanging between them. When he didn’t move, she added, “I’m not stepping away.”
Beau sucked in a shaky breath. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Even if it doesn’t mean anything. I understand. I just don’t want you to do it because you think it’s part of the job. And yes, we barely know each other, but I don’t care. I’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
That was the problem. Beau barely knew this woman, yet he didn’t want to let her out of his arms for even a second. The right thing to do would be to set her on her feet and walk away. Instead, his arms tightened around her, and he turned, strode into the master bedroom and kicked the door closed behind them.