Crazy Rich Cajuns

by Erin Nicholas

  “Just making sure you still want me along after I tell you that I don’t play croquet or golf and that I tried, but I can’t think of a single joke that’s not dirty.”

  Bennett lifted a hand and ran this thumb over her bottom lip. “I still want you along, Kennedy.”

  She swallowed hard. She was going to enjoy this chemistry. That was the only option, really. Because she wasn’t going to be able to say no to it.

  “I do know the salad fork from the dinner fork, but beyond that, I might be a little lost.” That wasn’t entirely true. She knew the forks. Salad, dinner, oyster, dessert. But she didn’t really care what Bennett’s family thought of her, and this was her way of warning him that she wasn’t going to be the perfect lady that his hoity-toity mother might be expecting him to bring home.

  “I don’t care if you eat with your hands,” he told her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You shouldn’t tell a girl who eats French fries six meals a week something like that.”

  His smile was slow. And cocky. “I know who I’m talking to, Kennedy.”

  For some reason that made a little tingle go down her spine.

  But he didn’t know her. Not really. He knew what she’d showed him, dammit. She had control of that. She’d gotten to be a master at that early on in her life. Dressing up, performing, smiling even when her head was pounding from all the bobby pins stuck into her updo, dancing even when her feet were killing her in the shoes that were a size too small but matched her dress perfectly. That was the other thing about sticking close to Autre. She could be herself here. She could say and do whatever she wanted. They might roll their eyes, but they weren’t giving her a grade. They weren’t lining her up against other girls and deciding who was the best.

  Bennett thought he knew her because he’d observed her in her own habitat. Maybe there was something to that. She hadn’t put on any airs with him. But they’d spent a total of, what, twelve hours together if she added all the phone conversations and short visits together?

  He probably thought he was really good at reading people or something.

  In actuality, he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Or what she wanted him to see. He seemed to like her tattoos and her piercings and the black shorts and skirts she wore, her combat boots, her sassy mouth and the sexual innuendo and banter she turned on for him. Lord knew, she didn’t do that with every guy who walked in.

  “Then I guess you know what you’re getting into,” she said, watching his face carefully.

  “I really do.”

  He really thought he did.

  And she was going to let him think that. For now.

  Kennedy guessed she was pretty different from the girls he usually brought home. She just might shock his mother…

  Oh.

  Suddenly it made a lot more sense. She was a little bit of a rebellion.

  Or a lot of a rebellion.

  Now she got it.

  “Okay, I think this is going to be…fun.” She pushed him back and opened the car door—her own door—and got into the car.

  Bennett looked like he maybe had something more to say, but instead he nodded and rounded the front of the car.

  Kennedy waved at Maddie and Juliet who were still standing on the porch. Juliet looked a little confused. Maddie looked like she was disappointed she wasn’t going to have to have a front row seat to whatever was going to happen this weekend.

  That was because Maddie knew Kennedy far better than Juliet did.

  4

  “So, tell me about your dad.”

  Bennett looked over. They hadn’t even pulled onto the highway out of Autre yet and Kennedy already had her boots up on the dash of his rented BMW, her black and blue striped skirt riding high on her thighs. It revealed the creamy smooth skin along with the flowers that trailed up her left leg. The intricate tattoo started with a tiny vine that wrapped around her ankle, then climbed her leg, getting bigger, with flowers in various stages of bloom along the way. It dove under the hem of her skirt, reappearing at her waist above the top edge of her skirt, then continued up her side, slipping under the fitted black top that left her midriff bare. He could see it again where it reappeared from the short sleeve of the shirt and then trailed down her arm to her wrist and then grew narrow, the vine continuing down to wrap around her pinky finger. He wanted badly to trace the entire length. With his eyes. His fingers. His tongue. He wanted to see it in its entirety. He wanted to know the meaning behind it.

  She also had piercings that sparkled along the edge of her ears, one at the corner of her right eyebrow and one single tiny stud in her nose. She wore heavy black eye makeup and black nail polish and always had black in her clothing and shoes. Or boots. Today, her long, dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, the deep red tips hanging against her shoulder. And she was grinning at him with a grin that said she knew she frustrated him and entertained him at that same time.

  He wanted her more every single time he looked at her.

  And now she’d kissed him. So he was basically fucked.

  He didn’t remember a time when he’d been so into a woman before even kissing her.

  Now he was going to do anything she wanted him to do and she probably knew it.

  That was dangerous with a woman like Kennedy. Hell, her own grandparents had basically told him not to give everything she asked for.

  “My dad is…” Bennett trailed off, trying to decide how to describe his father. “I mean, he’s pretty much everything you already know about him. He supports entrepreneurs and is a strong advocate for education and business.”

  Kennedy didn’t say anything and he looked over. She was looking at him with a puzzled frown.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You asked what my dad is like.”

  “And I meant, is he funny? Does he like to do jigsaw puzzles or golf? Is he a Beatles fan? Does he read spy novels or biographies? What the hell are you talking about being a strong advocate for education and business? You make him sound like a politician.”

  Bennett chuckled. “He is a politician. And that’s about all he is.” He glanced at her again. “Do you really not know who my dad is?”

  “Should I?”

  He supposed not necessarily. She was from Louisiana and his father had represented Georgia. “He was the governor of Georgia until he ran for Senate. He’s been a senator for…almost as long as I can remember,” Bennett said.

  “A senator?” Kennedy asked. “Like a real senator? Like a Washington D.C. senator?”

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “No way.” She shook her head. “I thought you were just rich. Like he was in business or something. Investing. Stuff like Juliet’s dad.”

  Bennett nodded. “Well, I mean, there’s money. He inherited most of his share though. The rest is mostly from my mom.”

  “So your mom’s the rich one?” Kennedy dropped her feet from the dash and turned to face him.

  “Well, no. I mean, he came from money, too. Old Georgia money that goes way back. But then Mom came into money when I was about five. He took that and invested it and…it grew like crazy.” Bennett shrugged. “I guess they’re rich together.”

  He knew what question was coming next and knew that he had to fill Kennedy in on the next part. She was going to find out soon enough.

  “How did your mom come into money? Did someone die or something?” Kennedy asked.

  “Actually…” He glanced over. “It’s a pretty interesting story.”

  “Spill it.”

  “My mom’s parents won the lottery.”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened. “What? Like the lottery lottery? That they draw for every week?”

  “Yep. They went into a gas station, bought some beer and chips, and grabbed a Mega Millions ticket on a whim. Ended up winning big.” He paused. “Really big. They divided the money up between them and their two kids. My dad decided to play with it, since it was extra money they h
adn’t planned on, and so he put it into some really aggressive things, new businesses, tech, that kind of stuff. And it took off.”

  Kennedy was grinning. “That’s pretty cool. How much did they win? Can I ask that? You said really big. Like a million dollars?”

  Bennett blew out a breath. “Really big. Like eight million. After taxes.”

  There was a pause. Then Kennedy said, “Fuuuuuck.”

  He nodded but couldn’t help but grin. “Yep. Eight million. So my mom got two million. Just like that.”

  “Holy. Shit. So your parents are crazy rich.”

  He laughed. “Told you it was interesting.”

  “And your dad invested it,” Kennedy said. “And made a killing.”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, that’s great. But please tell me someone in the family bought something completely stupid and excessive and ridiculous.”

  Oh, he could most definitely do that. “My uncle now owns a drive-in movie theater in the little town where they all grew up. And all he shows are the movies from the seventies and eighties that he loves. Basically, it’s like his own big living room that he lets other people park in.”

  Kennedy laughed. “Okay, that’s actually kind of great.”

  “They also only serve snacks he likes. So there’s no popcorn because he doesn’t like it. But you can get Corn Nuts in every single flavor. And Jelly Bellies.”

  “That’s. Amazing.”

  “And his wife bought a castle. For their cats. That’s about half the size of your grandma’s house. And it’s purple and sparkles. And they then, of course, had to get more cats.”

  Kennedy’s eyes were wide. “They rescued the cats, I hope.”

  “Of course. They’re good-hearted. If extravagant.”

  She nodded. “I love it. And you know that I know about having family like that.” She grinned at him. “You’ve been holding out. You have a crazy family, too. Here I thought it was just me.”

  He shook his head. “Oh no. And it gets better.”

  “How so?”

  “They’re Cajun.”

  “No!”

  “Yep. My mom grew up in Louisiana.”

  “So that’s why you like the bayou.”

  He pulled up to a stoplight and looked over at her. “That’s not why I like the bayou.”

  “But you—” She met his gaze and stopped. Then shook her head. “Damn, you’re good at that.”

  “At what?”

  “Throwing me off.”

  He grinned. “I take that as a huge compliment.”

  “I do not mean that as a compliment.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I still take it as one.”

  Kennedy blew out a breath. “But you have Cajun blood. I mean, they’re crazy rich Cajuns, but still Cajuns. So your affinity to the bayou makes sense.”

  “Maybe.” He eased onto the gas again as the light turned green. “That’s probably why I was curious about it in the beginning. But that’s not why I like it now.”

  “You can just stop that right there, Mr. Baxter,” she said.

  “Stop what?”

  “All the sweet crap about how I’m the biggest draw to the bayou now.”

  “Maybe I was going to say I kept coming around because of the crawfish.”

  “You like the andouille sausage better than the crawfish.”

  “How do you know that?” Damn, he wished they weren’t driving. He’d love to be looking at her and seeing her expressions while they had this conversation.

  “I…” She glanced over, clearly realizing she’d given something away that she hadn’t meant to.

  “You’ve been paying attention to me, Ms. Landry?” Bennett teased. “I’m touched.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t go reading anything into it. I’m not a sucker for romance like the rest of my family.”

  “Aren’t you?” He shot her a glance. Maybe not romance. She seemed too…practical—or maybe cynical—for that. But she was a sucker for their chemistry. She liked the idea that he was drawn to her and thought of her when he wasn’t in Autre and that she was part of the reason he liked it there.

  “I’m not,” she told him. “It would be nearly impossible for you, or any guy, to top the Landrys in the romance department. I’ve seen or heard it all.”

  “Sounds like a challenge.”

  “Do not take it as a challenge.” She pointed a finger at him sternly. “Romance makes people stupid. Super stupid. And they end up making decisions that they’re then stuck with for the rest of their life.”

  Bennett couldn’t help looking over again after that. She was scowling at the dashboard of his car, though clearly wasn’t thinking about the smooth gray leather. “Sounds like you have a reason for that very firm belief.”

  She looked at him. “I do. And I’m very stubborn, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

  “I’m aware,” he said dryly. He really wanted to know what had turned Kennedy off of romance so fully. And she’d noticed his preference for the sausage. That was something; he didn’t care what she said. “I don’t think I’m completely dissuaded here. You really are a big part of what I love about the bayou.”

  She looked at him and her eyes slowly narrowed. “I’ll tell you what, Baxter. I’m going to dissuade you. Every time you say or do something sappy and romantic, I’m going to say or do something super hot and sexy.”

  Bennett felt his eyebrows fly toward his hairline. “How is that going to dissuade me?”

  “Well…” She slid across the seat, closer to him. She put her hand on his thigh just above his knee and then slowly ran it up toward his fly. “Walking around with an erection at various inopportune times could make for a long weekend.”

  Bennett put his hand down on top of hers, stopping the movement. Yeah, she had a point.

  “Maybe I’ll make sure that I’m only romantic and sweet when we’re alone and in a private place.”

  She grinned up at him. She was right there. Kissing distance.

  And he was driving.

  He forced his attention back on the road.

  “That’s fine,” she said, leaning back and sliding back to her side.

  He both appreciated and hated that at the same time.

  “But I didn’t say I’d be pulling out the sexy stuff at the same exact time you were romantic.” She returned her boots to the dashboard.

  Bennett swallowed as her skirt pulled up her thighs again.

  “You do all the romantic stuff you want,” she said. “I’ll be keeping track. And paying you back for every one of them. When it best suits me.”

  Damn, this woman was a handful. But he couldn’t help his grin.

  He hadn’t even told her yet that they were going to be in Savannah for five days, not just for the weekend.

  One of the many perks to flying via private plane was that there was very little wait time at the airport.

  They were the only ones on the plane, and the main cabin on the plane looked very much like a well-decorated living room in someone’s penthouse apartment. Bennett chose one of the high-backed leather chairs, but after she’d paused in the doorway and gave a breathy, “Holy shit,” Kennedy had chosen the long couch that took up the length of one wall, complete with throw pillows.

  She lounged on the plush cushions, tucking a gold satin pillow under her head and stretching her long, bare legs out against the cream-colored upholstery. She looked like a cat settling in for a nap. “Wow, you left out two really important words when you talked about this trip, Bennett,” she told him.

  “Hot sex?” he asked.

  She gave him a grin. “You don’t have to say those words. Those are a given. Like hors d’oeuvres and champagne.” She paused and gave him a tiny frown. “This is where you assure me there will be hors d’oeuvres and champagne.”

  “Lots of both,” he said with a nod.

  She sighed in relief. “No, the words you left out were private plane. I would have jumped at this chance to go with you.”


  He chuckled, settling in to appreciate the view. And he didn’t mean out the window. The tiny top she wore pulled up to expose more of her smooth stomach, and the stretchy fabric of her skirt hugged her curves and moved with her as she wiggled against the ridiculously expensive fabric covering the couch. He felt his cock stirring and decided that he should probably just get used to that for the next few days.

  Kennedy oozed confidence and sex appeal. She was clearly completely comfortable in her skin. No doubt that came in part from spending time on a pageant stage from a young age. She’d gotten used to parading around in front of people. That had to make someone less self-conscious when they were offstage, didn’t it? Or maybe it was just her. Lord knew, her family had very little concern about what other people thought of them.

  “You didn’t exactly fight me on the idea of coming to Savannah,” he commented. “You almost seemed excited about it.”

  “I love stuffed mushrooms,” she said, of course not giving him an inch. “I’ll eat my weight in stuffed mushrooms. You might want to notify the catering staff.” She rolled to her back and tucked her hands under the pillow behind her head.

  Lying with her left side toward him, he could again study her tattoo and he wondered if she had others. She wore lots of tank tops and shorts and skirts. He would have noticed, he was sure. He’d certainly studied her body every chance he’d had. So what was the significance of this tattoo?

  “Tell me about your tattoo.”

  Kennedy was a straight-shooter. Her whole family was very upfront and honest. Bennett also wanted to get used to being like that. He’d spent far too much time with lawyers and politicians who measured everything they said. Not to mention his mother. She’d worked hard to leave her Cajun roots behind, and she had to really concentrate when she got frustrated or angry or even overly excited. It seemed when she felt strong emotions was when her accent and the slang she’d grown up with would slip out. So she’d trained herself to be even-keeled and always in control of her emotions. As a kid, Bennett and his brother would sometimes poke at her just to hear her call them couyon.