Crazy Rich Cajuns

by Erin Nicholas

  That sent Kennedy crashing over the edge. She cried out his name and clamped down around his fingers as she came. The orgasm hitting hard.

  She slumped back against the wall, pulling in air, her hands once again flat against the sturdy surface.

  Holy crap. What was that? How had that been what sent her over the edge? She wasn’t possessive. And certainly not about Bennett. But the very dirty thought that she would have somehow marked Bennett, that another woman might be able to smell Kennedy on him later on...that had definitely worked. That was definitely dirty and gave her a very stupid, pretty frightening, sense of satisfaction.

  And he knew that it had worked.

  Dammit.

  If he knew that dirty and possessive worked, he’d use it again. And she, clearly, wasn’t going to be able to fight it.

  She felt him moving, her leg lowered to the floor, and a big, hot, hard man pressed into her, kissing her deeply.

  Kennedy wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth. She tasted herself on him and found that also dirty and very satisfying.

  She was in big trouble here. Yet she felt herself already embracing the idea. If they were here for the next few days and he would keep putting his mouth right where it had just been, then Kennedy figured she might as well enjoy all of this for the time it would last.

  “This is also why I wanted to bring you along,” he said, lifting his head and brushing back a few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

  “I would have let you do that back in Autre. And pretty much anywhere else you wanted to do it,” she said, still a little breathless.

  “But here you’re not going to be distracted by work or your family. Here, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing her again.

  That possessive note in his voice made her already happy inner muscles ripple a little. There was something to that theory, too. The Landrys were very entwined in everything every one of them did. All the time. If Bennett wanted her full attention for any stretch of time, getting her away from Autre had been a smart idea.

  “But you keep saying that’s where you want to be long-term,” she reminded him, rubbing against him, unable to help herself. She wanted more of him. Of him touching her, but she hadn’t even gotten her hands on his bare chest yet. “They will always be there.” Why was she even teasing with conversation about “long-term” and how Bennett and she would handle being together with the family always around?

  “That’s why this trip seemed like the perfect way to get things established between us before we start dating back there.”

  “We’re going to start dating back there?” she repeated, then laughed lightly. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  He gave her a slow smile that was completely confident and very sexy. “See, if we were dating in Autre, you might not even realize it. It would just seem like we were hanging out at crawfish boils and on the pontoon boats on the weekends or at Ellie’s after hours. Even if I pushed you up against a wall and went down on you, making you come in my mouth like you’d never had your pussy eaten so well in your life—”

  Kennedy actually had to squeeze her thighs together as her pussy wholeheartedly agreed with every cocky word he said.

  “—you’d still be able to chalk it up to just a hot moment or having too many beers or letting curiosity win for one night.”

  She just pressed her lips together. Those all sounded like things she might have tried to use as an excuse.

  “And you’d be able to immerse yourself back into your regular life and normal routine and not think about it anymore afterward.”

  He ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “But here, there’s none of that. Here, you are not just on my schedule and on my turf, but when I push you up against the wall, or fuck you from behind in the shower, or tell you to suck my cock behind the gazebo, or eat chocolate from the chocolate fountain off your gorgeous tits, it will all be because you want it, from me, and you won’t be able to run away from it and all the things it makes you feel afterward.”

  Kennedy stared up at him. Crap. Right now was when she really should say something sassy and sarcastic and glib. But not one thing came to mind except this guy knows me and I’m screwed.

  Bennett moved his hand, kissed her again, then stepped back. “My room is right through there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the door to her left. “I’m going to go freshen up. I’m guessing Mom has dresses on the way for you. Don’t let her pressure you into anything. I like you exactly as you are.”

  He ran a hand down her hip, smoothing her skirt down. Kennedy hadn’t even realized it had still been hiked up.

  “And by the way…you taste as good as you smell.”

  Then he stepped back and grabbed his suitcase and headed for the door that led to the bathroom between the rooms.

  She watched him saunter out of the room, cocky and clearly very pleased with himself even if he was walking away with a massive erection.

  As the door closed behind him, Kennedy sucked in a deep breath and blew it out.

  The guy shines his shoes, for God’s sake, she reminded herself.

  But now that she knew what he could do with his tongue, he could have a shoe polish collection and a set of books about the history of shoe-shining and she wouldn’t care.

  Bennett stepped into his room with a full-of-himself, life-is-really-good, halfway-in-love grin on his face, he was sure.

  That fact was confirmed by the, “Damn, I haven’t seen you look that happy since you talked Poppy Parsons into going to prom with you.”

  Bennett realized that he should have been expecting Duke Chastain to be waiting for him. “Not true,” Bennett said, setting his suitcase to the side. “I’ve never been this happy.”

  Duke laughed, from where he was slumped in the armchair near the window. “I’d shake your hand, but I have a feeling I know where your hands have been.”

  Bennett grinned and propped himself against the headboard of his bed, kicking his shoes off and stretching his legs out on the mattress. “You’d be right.”

  “So I was right not to interrupt you and the lovely Kennedy to introduce myself?”

  Duke gave him a sly grin that told Bennett that his friend had a pretty good idea what he and Kennedy had been up to next door.

  “Very good call,” Bennett agreed.

  “Then you’re also welcome for keeping my mother and wife from coming to say hello.”

  “My mom told you that Kennedy was here but not them? I suppose she was hoping they’d walk in and interrupt us.”

  Duke chuckled. “Oh no, she told all of us about Kennedy. My mother’s reaction was ‘Oh, well, I can’t wait to meet her’ and she immediately started for the stairs.”

  “Which means, my mother texted your mother ahead and told her she needed some reinforcements.”

  “You’ve got it.” Duke grinned. “Good thing Jo was with me,” he said of his wife, Jolene. “She went rushing in with gossip about Delilah Bedford.”

  “Oh yeah? What was the gossip?”

  “No idea. There’s always a lot to choose from with Delilah,” Duke said. “Or she could have been making something up. Anyway, Jo’s got you. For now. Of course, you can’t keep Kennedy from my mother and Jo forever. She’s dying of curiosity.”

  Bennett gave him a grin. “Why’s that?”

  “She thinks she has a really good idea about the type of woman you’d eventually fall for. We have a little bet on it, actually. She wants to see which of us has to pay up.”

  “What’s in the pot?”

  “Romantic weekend of the winner’s choosing.”

  Bennett laughed. “So you both win.”

  “I might get sex out of it, but if you think spending the weekend at Broadway shows and shopping in New York City is winning for me, in any way, you’re crazy,” Duke said.

  “Your wife, who’s known me for about eight years, thinks she knows more about the type of woman I’d fall for than you would
? The guy who’s known me my whole life?” Bennett asked, curious suddenly about what Jo thought was his perfect type. And if she’d gotten it right. Because he wasn’t sure he’d known Kennedy was his perfect type until he’d met her.

  “She thinks she pays more attention to that stuff,” Duke said with a shrug.

  “She probably does.”

  Duke nodded. “But if someone wanted to know the kind of Scotch to get you or what kind of sporting tickets to buy you, I’d nail that for sure.”

  Bennett nodded with a grin. “No doubt about it.”

  “So, tell me about this woman who has you thinking about giving up all your plans and exchanging Armani for…what’s a brand of work boots?”

  Bennett wasn’t surprised that Duke had no idea who made work boots. Why would he know that? But it hit Bennett just how far removed from Sawyer, Josh, and Owen his friends in Georgia were. “DeWalt, Timberland. There are a few.”

  “Right. Trading Armani for DeWalt,” Duke said. “Tell me about her.”

  “Kennedy is…” How to describe her? It seemed that describing her physical features—her colored hair, her tattoos, her piercings, her affinity for the color black—would give Duke a picture. But that was all just not enough. There was so much more there.

  Duke lifted a brow. “Wow. Hard to describe, huh? That’s something.”

  Bennett nodded. “She’s something. Something unexpected and unique and fun and sexy and challenging and…she makes me want to be more real, more honest, more raw, more hands-on.”

  “I’ll bet,” Duke quipped.

  But Bennett shot him a frown. “I mean it. She makes me want to do things…with my life. Things that produce something. Things that I can point to and say, ‘I did that and it matters.’”

  Duke’s smile faded. “Okay. That’s…”

  Bennett knew what Duke meant. It was…hard to explain. They’d grown up in a world where people made things happen more than actually doing things. They influenced people and policy. They worked in the law and in government. They had meetings and came up with ideas. They invested money and time. They helped make it possible for other people to do things. But it was a little removed from the actual work. It was as if Bennett knew a bunch of puppet masters who pulled all the strings but didn’t actually do anything.

  He wanted to do stuff.

  “She’s very different from any of the women I’ve been with before,” Bennett finally said. That was true. It didn’t seem like a full enough description, but it was a start. “I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  He wasn’t worried about whether Duke would like her or not. That didn’t matter. He was more curious what Kennedy would think of his friends.

  “Well, sounds like it’s going to be an interesting weekend,” Duke said. “But I should warn you, you’re not sitting with her at dinner.”

  Bennett frowned. “Yes, I am.”

  Duke shook his head. “The seating arrangement is already set.”

  Bennett swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. “Why do I hate the way you said that?”

  “Because you’re going to hate the reason.”

  Bennett blew out a breath. “What reason?”

  “Governor Ray is here tonight. And sitting right next to you.”

  Bennett shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to talk to the governor. I’m here for my father’s retirement party. This isn’t about me.”

  “Come on, man,” Duke said. “It’s always about you.”

  That was true. His mother’s life revolved around his father and him. Now that his father’s career was coming to a close, she had shifted full gear to Bennett’s. She’d always been concerned about what he was doing, especially after he’d shifted his focus his senior year of college, but he knew that she’d been confident he’d come around and follow in his father’s footsteps. Now that his father was officially retiring and Bennett was not just interested in the bayou but had invested in a business there and was spending more and more time there—and had a woman he was interested in there as well—Maria was getting nervous. Now she was going to really start pulling on the reins hard.

  “I don’t need a dinner party to get me close to Governor Ray,” Bennett said. “If I wanted to talk to him, I’d just call him up.”

  “Yeah, this isn’t about getting you close to him,” Duke said. “He requested being put next to you.”

  “What?”

  Duke nodded. “He always figured you’d be in elected office by now. But you’re not. So he wants to talk to you.”

  Bennett sighed.

  “Your parents aren’t the only ones who think you should run,” Duke said. “It’s not just because they’re biased and think their little boy can do no wrong.”

  Bennett looked up at his friend.

  “Don’t make me say it,” Duke told him.

  Bennett cocked a brow. “Oh, I think I’m going to need you to say it.”

  Duke sighed. “You already know it.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t know if I care anymore.”

  “You do. Somewhere down deep. Where the moonshine and hot bayou girl haven’t quite gotten yet.”

  Bennett frowned. “It’s not like Kennedy has talked me out of anything. She doesn’t even know any of this is a possibility.”

  “So you’re not running away?”

  “I’m choosing something else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it feels like something else can matter more.”

  “Yeah, well, I think that’s where you’re wrong.”

  The two men sat looking at one another for a long moment.

  Finally, Bennett said, “I think you have to say it.”

  Duke muttered something that sounded like, “Asshole,” under his breath, but then said, “You were born for elected office. You would be a fantastic public servant, Bennett Baxter.”

  Bennett took a deep breath. His oldest friend might not have given a lot of thought to the perfect woman for Bennett, but Duke knew exactly what words to use when he was trying to make a point. Public servant. Duke had specifically used those words instead of “you would be a fantastic governor”, or “you’d make a great state senator.” Public servant meant more. Sounded better.

  And dammit, it did make Bennett listen.

  6

  A soft knock at the door made Kennedy jump. Her heart leapt into her throat. It wasn’t Bennett. He wouldn’t knock. He’d walk right in. And he wouldn’t be coming from the hallway. They had an adjoining bathroom.

  From which she could hear the shower running. She’d been sitting on the bed imagining Bennett in there, wet and soapy, only a few feet away. Wondering what he’d do if she walked in and joined him. Definitely wondering about that multi-jet system in there.

  Please just be someone delivering the dresses. Please just be someone delivering the dresses. Please don’t be—

  “Hi, Mrs. Baxter,” Kennedy greeted Bennett’s mother, who was standing on the other side of the door with two garment bags.

  “These just came for you.”

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate it. I’m so sorry that Bennett didn’t tell me more about this weekend so I could have been more prepared.”

  Maria Baxter didn’t hold the bags out for Kennedy. She was clearly keeping them. For now. “Perhaps he thought that you would just assume what kind of dress code this would require.”

  Kennedy couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I don’t think that was it.”

  “No? Why is that?”

  Maria stepped forward and Kennedy didn’t have a lot of choice but to step back and let her into the room. It was her house after all. She also didn’t strike Kennedy as the type of woman to take no for an answer.

  “Because where I’m from, when someone says party at their parents’ house, that means shorts and T-shirts, and beer and barbecue in the backyard.”

  Maria laid the bags on the bed and unzipped them. “Maybe Bennett didn’t realize that.”

 
“Oh, he knows that,” Kennedy said, still standing by the door, but not sure if it was because she was hoping that Maria would be on her way right back out or because Kennedy wanted to have a clear escape path. For some reason. “He’s been to a few of those parties in Autre.”

  Maria pulled one of the dresses out and held it up.

  It was beautiful. The color was a dusty rose, the material a light and filmy fabric, overlaid with lace. The sleeves would come to her wrists, but they were blousy and loose and would move almost like wings if she gestured too exuberantly. The waist was cinched, and the skirt flowed to a high-low hem that would show her ankles, but would cover most of her legs.

  It didn’t take a PhD from whatever schools people around here went to to realize that Maria had chosen a style that would cover most of Kennedy’s tattoo. People might catch a glimpse at the ankle if her skirt swirled just right. They’d see the one on her hand, wrist, and forearm, but the ink was less prominent there anyway, and damned if the dress color didn’t also go with the pale pink hue of the roses in the tattoo.

  Maria was good. And not incredibly subtle.

  “Honestly, there’s not a single event in Autre that I’d show up to in that dress.”

  “How about a wedding?”

  Kennedy realized she’d come forward when she reached out to touch the silky, soft material of the dress. She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “That’s too bad. Dressing up can be fun,” Maria said.

  That’s what Kennedy had thought as a little girl, dressing up for pageants. She met the other woman’s eyes. “We’re just pretty down-to-earth, what-you-see-is-what-you-get people, I guess.”

  Maria nodded. “Try it on.” She held the dress out.

  Kennedy realized she didn’t have much choice. Maria had clearly picked this dress out specifically. Kennedy was on her turf. This was her house, her party. Kennedy wasn’t going to give her a hard time. At least, not if she could control it. Sometimes things came out of her mouth, or showed in her expressions, before she got them tamped down. But she’d try.

  She took the dress and headed for the bathroom.