And, of course, she could shower again later with Bennett.
She grabbed her phone for music and headed for the bathroom. She braced herself for the lights to come on and let them slowly adjust to the brightness. She stood in front of the shower stall, just taking it all in.
The thing was enormous. And all glass. With lots of nozzles. The huge mirror over the vanity was directly across from it, too, and would let her—or whoever she was with—watch whatever happened in that shower. Her heart thunked and heat tripped through her system thinking about it. Everything from the night before came rushing back. Her and Bennett in his bed. Him listening to her go on about how she felt about Leo and Ellie. Bennett insisting he couldn’t fuck her because she’d been drunk. That was unnecessarily gentlemanly of him, and she could honestly say that had been hot, too. And then all the incredible sexiness that came after that. The do-it-yourself orgasms were never as good as the real thing, but yet last night had seemed unbelievably satisfying. It had been deliciously dirty, for sure, but it had also seemed intimate.
She heard her phone ding and looked down. It was another text from Bennett.
Remember what I said about any orgasms that you have without me.
Her pulse pounded. He’d said that he’d tie her to the bed and tease her mercilessly.
Hmmm…
She eyed the shower. He’d never have to know though.
Her phone dinged.
And I will know.
She giggled. Actually giggled. He’d never know, and he didn’t even know she was awake and reading these messages right now. But she loved his cockiness and his dirtiness.
She’d already been hot for the guy, but after learning about everything he was doing from running a foundation that took care of the environment, to resisting everyone’s attempt to get him to run for office, to building a freaking island to help protect Louisiana, she was really turned on.
Kennedy would have never in a million years guessed that politics and environmental activism and throwing money around like it was beads off a Mardi Gras float would be a turn-on. But it was. Evidently.
Or maybe it was the man, and his intentions, behind it all.
Yeah, it was maybe that. But if she admitted that, she might have to admit that she was falling for him. A little. Maybe.
She reached in and turned on the shower, waited for it to warm up, and stepped under the spray. She’d just clean up quickly now. Yes, she eyed a couple of the nozzles and spent a few seconds telling herself that Bennett would never actually know. But in the end, she resisted.
Because she wanted that orgasm from him.
Dammit. He already had her doing what he told her. Or not doing what he told her not to do, to be more precise.
Still, she soaped up, rinsed off, and stepped out of the shower without doing a thing about it.
She was in trouble.
Ten minutes later, Kennedy was downstairs in a tank top and shorts, her hair in a ponytail, scrounging in the kitchen. It seemed that breakfast had been served earlier, probably before the guys left for the golf course, but she’d slept through it.
Which was fine. All she really needed was coffee, bacon, and some grits. She opened three cupboards without finding anything though. She frowned. Maria was a Cajun girl. She might not live that way now, but there was no way a girl who had grown up in Louisiana gave up grits entirely. She finally found what she was looking for in a lower cupboard back behind the oatmeal and coconut flour. What the hell was coconut flour?
She started with the hangover cure, running the blender and pouring a big glass. She’d drink that while she made everything else.
“Please, please, please never turn that blender on again.”
She turned to see Charles shuffling toward the coffeepot.
Kennedy’s ibuprofen and the twelve ounces of water she’d downed were already working and she grinned. “Good morning, Governor.”
“Fuck vanilla vodka.”
“Dude. Same,” she said sincerely.
“Seriously.” He slid up onto a stool, cradling his cup with one hand and resting his head on his other hand. “How can that stuff be so potent?”
Kennedy continued gathering what she needed for the grits. “No idea. At least after a night with moonshine you have some great karaoke on video and probably a story or two about how you won a slam dunk contest or something.”
Charles chuckled, then groaned.
“So, no golfing for you, huh?” she asked, assembling the ingredients. Looked like she was making sweet grits for two.
“I don’t like golfing on my best day,” Charles said, nursing his coffee. “Definitely not today.”
While the water heated, Kennedy dug in the fridge, bringing out bacon and eggs.
Charles groaned again as she began breaking and beating eggs.
“Oh, no, you’re eating,” she said. “You start with the grits. They’ll soak up all the alcohol, but then you have to have protein.”
He just harrumphed in reply.
“And,” she said, bringing the glass of tomato juice—and other stuff—to him. He needed it more than she did. “Drink this after your coffee.”
“Bloody Mary?” he asked, eyeing it suspiciously.
“My grandma’s best friend’s remedy,” Kennedy said. “Tomato juice, spinach, and cayenne. And a few other things. Worcestershire and salt. Stuff like that.”
“Cayenne?”
“Trust me. Natural pain reliever.”
Charles tipped back the rest of his coffee and reached for the glass. Kennedy went back to the stove.
“So, Charles,” she said, as she stirred the grits and started the bacon frying. “What’s the deal with Bennett and his dad?”
Charles didn’t reply and she looked over her shoulder. He seemed to be considering his answer.
“What’s he told you?” he asked.
“Nothing. I get the definite impression they don’t get along. That his dad is disappointed in him not running for office.”
“That’s part of it,” Charles agreed.
“What else?”
He looked uncomfortable. Kennedy stirred the grits.
“Charles?”
“Yeah?”
“These are going to be the best grits you’ve ever tasted. And they’re going to make you feel better.”
“Okay.”
“Or…they’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you tell me about Bennett and his dad, or…you’ll regret this breakfast more than you’re regretting the vanilla vodka.”
Charles narrowed his eyes. “You’re threatening a governor?”
“No one will be able to prove a thing.”
He slowly smiled. “I’m guessing you’ve gotten revenge on a couple of brothers over the years?”
“And cousins and a grandfather,” she confirmed.
Charles blew out a breath. “Okay. But only because it smells amazing.”
Kennedy smiled. One thing she was sure of—she was a hell of a cook.
“Bennett always planned to follow in his father’s footsteps. Law practice, public office, all of that,” Charles said.
Kennedy pretended to be busy cooking. The truth was, she could have made all of this in her sleep. She couldn’t begin to count the pieces of bacon she’d fried over the years in her grandma’s bar and restaurant.
“But when Bennett was a senior in college, almost done with his political science degree and applying to law schools, someone sent him a packet of information about his father.”
“Someone? Who?” Kennedy asked.
“It’s never been confirmed,” Charles said, studying his tomato juice.
Kennedy watched him for a second. “What was the information? An affair or something?”
Charles looked up. “About ten years before, his father had defended a company that was knowingly polluting some of the rivers and streams. It was a big chemical company and his dad got very rich.”
“
He won in court?”
“He did. More than he lost, anyway.”
Kennedy frowned.
“By Bennett’s senior year, his dad was in the Senate,” Charles went on. “The materials also showed how that company, and others, helped fund his campaign and several pieces of legislation that his father had introduced and voted for that were helping those companies.”
Kennedy saw where this was going. “Bennett had no idea?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“The packet contained tons of stories—many that had been buried—about how the pollution had affected wildlife and communities. Kids who had gotten sick. The immense cost of cleaning it up, which the communities and state governments were stuck paying for rather than the chemical companies.”
“How can that be?” Kennedy said. “It was their fault.”
“They had an incredibly good legal team.”
That was led by Bennett’s dad. Kennedy turned to remove the bacon, eggs, and grits from the heat. She started plating everything. “So what did Bennett do?”
“He confronted his father. They had a huge fight. Bennett went back to school, added environmental studies—”
“Biodiversity,” Kennedy said absently, her mind spinning.
Charles smiled. “Right. Biodiversity. He added that to his major and finished that in eighteen months. Along with his political science degree. He went on to law school but with a new focus. He was determined to fight the companies like the ones that got his father elected.”
“And did he?”
“He did. And he started his foundation. Along with the environmental initiatives, he also bought part of three different newspapers so that he could help ensure that the stories were told and the companies, and elected officials, were held accountable.”
Kennedy felt a weird stirring of heat. And it wasn’t from the stove. Bennett Baxter was a nerdy scientist…who freaking fought the Goliaths and stood up for what he believed in and put his energy and his time and money where his mouth was. He believed in things. Deeply. He got loud about them. At least loud with money and stuff. He’d even sacrificed his relationship with his dad to do the right thing.
He really was a lot like the Landrys.
She took a deep breath. “And he and his dad don’t get along now?”
“They try. But they don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Bennett has contributed thousands of dollars supporting his father’s opponents when they run against him. And, of course, has been the lead attorney in seeking damages against some of Preston’s biggest donors.”
Kennedy’s eyes widened as she thought about all of that. Wow. Bennett was a badass.
“Oh, I’m so glad I didn’t—oh, Kennedy.”
Kennedy turned to face Bennett’s mother. “Good morning.”
“I thought that Melinda was still here cooking.” Maria looked tired, but she was dressed as if she was on her way to have tea with the queen.
She also made a point of running her gaze over Kennedy’s tattoos.
Kennedy smoothed the front of her tank top. Should she have dressed up more to come downstairs? Breakfast was a casual event in Autre. Okay, all meals were a casual event in Autre.
“Sorry. No. She must have cooked for the guys before they went golfing.” Kennedy glanced at Charles. “Well, some of the guys.” She couldn’t help her smile. He didn’t look especially governor-y. But it was nice to know that he was a regular guy behind the title.
“You didn’t need to—” Maria looked past her to the stove. “Are those grits?”
Kennedy had no idea how to read this woman, so she just went with her default setting—complete honesty. “Yeah. Best grits you’ll ever have.”
Maria regarded her with narrow eyes. “I don’t know. My grandmother was an amazing cook.”
Kennedy grinned. “Well, I learned from my grandmother, so I guess we’ll see.” She finished doctoring the grits and dished up three bowls. Then she passed out plates of eggs and bacon.
Maria took the seat next to Charles across the breakfast bar from Kennedy. She dipped her spoon into the grits first. Kennedy actually found herself holding her breath. Maria took a tiny bite, her eyes widened, and she looked at Kennedy.
“They’re sweet.”
Kennedy nodded. “For sure.”
“You put sugar in grits?”
“I definitely do for breakfast,” Kennedy said.
It was a well-known debate. Many felt that grits were always only savory. But she’d grown up on sweet grits for breakfast and found they were perfect with salty bacon.
“I, of course, eat them cheesy, with shrimp, mixed with eggs, with gravy,” Kennedy said. “Every other way, too. But I love them sweet.”
Maria dipped her spoon again, taking a bigger scoop. “I haven’t had sweet grits since I was a kid.” She took a bite and closed her eyes briefly. Then she focused on Kennedy. “My other grandmother made them this way. She died when I was only eight.”
Kennedy smiled. “I love when food can take you back to a good memory.”
Maria nodded. She looked like she was going to say something else, but instead she just took another bite and then dug into her eggs and bacon.
The three of them ate and finished off a pot of coffee with very light conversation about not much at all. They all seemed tired, but it was also a strange combination of people who didn’t know each other that well. At least not have-breakfast-together well. Kennedy got the impression that Charles was much more a friend of Preston’s and only knew Maria superficially.
When they were finished, Kennedy started cleaning up.
“You don’t have to do that. The kitchen staff will be in to do lunch,” Maria told her.
Kennedy shook her head. “I was raised in a bar and restaurant. If someone comes in for the next meal shift and there are dirty dishes in the sink, there is hell to pay. My grandma might just fly up here and slap me if I leave a mess.”
Maria clearly wasn’t sure what to say to that.
Kennedy turned her attention to scrubbing the skillet.
Finally, Maria said, “Are you and Bennett serious?”
Kennedy looked over at the other woman. Wow. What a question. From his mom, no less. The mother that she’d told about her gazebo-blow-job plan. Strangely, Kennedy wasn’t quick to answer. Just last night she’d told Charles that she and Bennett were just messing around. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d have easily said that they were just flirting. Now… Well, she could only be honest.
“Your son is amazing.”
Maria looked surprised by Kennedy’s answer. “Yes, he is.”
“And I want him to be happy. Really, truly happy. Long-term.” She meant every word of that, too.
“And that will all happen with you?” Maria asked.
“I think that’s possible,” Kennedy said, realizing it for herself for the first time.
“Only possible? Not for sure?” Maria pressed.
Kennedy met her eyes. “The more I figure out, the surer I get.”
“The more you figure out about Bennett?”
Yes. But, not just him. Maybe it was getting out of Autre and her circle of family and friends. Getting outside her comfort zone where things were easy and routine and she didn’t have to think about things very hard.
Or maybe it was the things she was learning about Bennett. But those things didn’t seem surprising. She hadn’t known the details and seeing Bennett in his comfort zone had made her look at him more clearly, maybe, but she wasn’t shocked that Bennett was a fighter who did the right things for the right reasons.
So yeah, she was feeling differently about her and Bennett, and it wasn’t because Bennett Baxter was surprising her. She was surprising her.
Kennedy shook her head. “The more I figure out about me.”
Maria narrowed her eyes. “You’re figuring some things out while you’re here?”
“I am.”
“So you are serious about him?”
“I am serious about Bennett being everything he can be. I’m serious about that for myself, too. And if we can do that together, then yeah.”
“I see.” Maria seemed to be thinking about that.
“Kennedy!”
They both turned toward the new female voice. Jo had joined them. Along with Tawny and Sarah. They were all in bathing suits and carrying towels with sunglasses propped on top of their heads.
“Hi, ladies,” Kennedy greeted. She felt that things with Maria weren’t quite finished. But this was something that she and Bennett needed to figure out first.
“Want to come to the pool with us?” Tawny asked. “The guys won’t be back for a while. We thought we could get some sun and chat?”
Huh. These were people who knew Bennett well. Maybe it would be good for Kennedy to be friendly. Jo had been sweet all along, and her husband was Bennett’s best friend. The other two women were related to him. Tawny had been very nice last night and Sarah had been fine. Kennedy just needed to lay off the voodoo stuff.
“Sure. That would be great.”
“Okay!” Tawny seemed pleased. “We’ll meet you out there.”
The three women left the kitchen and Kennedy looked at Maria and Charles.
“Any tips for hanging out with them?”
Charles chuckled. “I barely know them.”
Maria, on the other hand, nodded. “Be yourself.”
“They’ll be judging me. To see if I’m good enough for Bennett, right?”
“Well, to see if you’re a good fit,” Maria hedged.
Kennedy sighed.
“But,” Maria added, “don’t you want to know that, too?”
Kennedy thought about that. Three women closer to her age who knew Bennett well? Yeah, maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea. “Okay, fair enough.”
Maria gave her a small smile. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
Crazy Rich Cajuns Page 17
