He might be a lying asshole, but he was a lying asshole with tenure. He knew what it took to navigate the often-treacherous waters of academia.
Tamryn opened the email from Dr. Sanderson, but its contents were not what she had been expecting. Instead of feedback on the syllabi she’d submitted, the department head had replied with news that the scheduling of classes for the fall semester was on hold, pending a decision by Brimley’s Board of Regents on possible faculty cuts that might have to be made in order to comply with recent budget constraints.
Tamryn set the electronic tablet on her thighs and tried to ignore the instant wave of unease that traveled along her spine. She was one of only a handful of professors in the entire School of Humanities who was not tenured. She didn’t want to think about what it would mean for her job—for her research—if a reduction in staff were imminent.
She wouldn’t think about it. She couldn’t. After all the work she’d put into this research, the implications of what it would mean to her career if she lost her position at Brimley were too painful to contemplate.
Chapter 4
Glancing once again at the directions Phylicia had given her before leaving Belle Maison, Tamryn made a left onto Cottonwood Drive. She knew she was heading in the right direction the moment she saw the numerous cars parked along the tree-lined street. Phylicia had told her to anticipate half the town showing up for the picnic being thrown by Dr. Landry, who owned the Gauthier Pharmacy and Feed Store on Main Street.
Tamryn had been taken aback when she’d walked into the store and, after only a few minutes of chatting with the pharmacist and cashier, had been invited to the gathering. Although she shouldn’t have been all that surprised. In the week since she’d arrived in Gauthier, she had already received an invitation to Sunday dinner from the beauty-parlor owner, Claudette Robinson, and to a baby shower from a woman whose name she couldn’t recall.
She pulled in behind a blue pickup truck and locked up the compact sedan the rental-car company had finally delivered to Belle Maison. It was smaller than the car she’d originally rented, but Tamryn feared she’d be without a car for another several days if she demanded they replace it.
She locked the car, chuckling at the fact that, in this town, that was more than likely unnecessary, and followed the sounds of music and children’s laughter coming from a huge white colonial several houses down the street. She walked past the cars lining the driveway and headed for the gate that led to the backyard. She smoothed her hands down the sides of her flowing yellow-and-blue-striped maxi dress before pushing open the gate and slipping inside.
The party was in full swing. There were at least a dozen tables set up around the massive fenced-in yard, all occupied by people feasting on the barbecue that she’d smelled halfway down the street. Smoke billowed from a large barrel-style grill over on the left side of the yard. Next to it was another table, this one covered with chafing dishes, platters and huge bowls. Next to that was a— Was that a rowboat?
“Well, look who’s here. It’s the professor!” Tamryn was approached by one of the women she’d met at Claudette’s the other day, Mabel something or other. “Well, don’t just stand there,” the woman said. “Come on in and get yourself something to eat. You look like you can use it. It’s been forty years since I was able to get into a dress that small.”
She was immediately surrounded by a host of people eager to greet the newest guest. Despite not having met the majority of them during her brief visits to downtown Gauthier, everyone who introduced themselves seem to already know her name, that she was a professor “at a fancy school up North” and that she was visiting Gauthier because of the discovery at the law firm.
As they approached the food tables, two men carrying a large pot stepped up to the rowboat and emptied a heap of steaming mudbugs into it. Tamryn had only encountered the shellfish when she visited her father’s family in Mississippi. She’d never been able to bring herself to eat one.
As they made their way along the buffet, Mabel kept up her chatter. “Isn’t that something about the room they found at the Gauthier Law Firm?” she said as she heaped a dollop of potato salad onto Tamryn’s already crowded plate. “You know, my grandmother used to say that Ansel—that was Micah and Nicolette’s son—married a slave girl. I think he must have been helping her escape and they fell in love. Doesn’t that sound romantic?”
“Yes, it does,” Tamryn said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly how it happened. I’ve run across stories like that many times during my research. If you don’t mind, I’d love to interview you about some of the other things your grandmother might have mentioned.”
Mabel’s eyes widened with delight at the thought of being interviewed. Tamryn figured she’d have to dedicate an entire day for it. The woman was a talker.
After they made their way out of the buffet line, Tamryn was invited to one of the tables and was introduced to yet another group of residents. They regaled her with stories of Gauthier’s economic boom since the Underground Railroad discovery, and how the flood of new tourists had revived the town.
A group of teens came to the table with plates in their hands, looking for a place to sit. Tamryn gave up her spot and walked over to the other side of the yard, settling on a wooden tree swing built for two that provided the perfect view of a serious game of kickball in progress. She laughed at the chubby toddlers who missed the ball more than they struck it.
Not for the first time since she’d arrived, a sense of peace stole over her. There was just something about this town’s easy nature that called to her.
She pushed off the ground using the tips of her toes and set the swing on a gentle sway. She’d been relaxing for a few minutes when she felt a prickle of awareness cascade down her spine.
Tamryn looked to her left and spotted Matthew Gauthier striding toward her with a confident, easy smile gracing his lips. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, looking more like the biker she’d encountered her first day in Gauthier than the lawyer. He carried a flat brown cardboard tray, like the ones used to store canned soft drinks in the grocery store.
“Hello there,” Tamryn said as he approached.
“Hello,” he said, settling next to her on the swing without even asking if he could join her.
She pointed to the cardboard tray, which was piled high with mudbugs. “Think you got enough mudbugs there?”
“Around here we call them crawfish, not mudbugs. And this is just my first round. When Errol Landry is doing the boiling, you want to eat as many as you can. He makes a special trip back to Gauthier every year for his dad’s picnic, just so he can boil the crawfish.”
“So is that the reason for the party? A homecoming celebration for Dr. Landry’s son?”
Matt shook his head as he ripped the tail off the crustacean and wrapped his lips around the body, sucking it. Tamryn wasn’t sure whether to laugh or gag.
“Doc Landry throws this picnic every year just as a thank-you to the community. It’s not as if folks wouldn’t support his business—Gauthier is lucky to have him. Still—” Matt shrugged “—it’s his way of showing his appreciation.”
Warmth settled in Tamryn’s chest. “I absolutely adore this town,” she said.
He looked over at her, his brow lifted in a skeptical hitch. “Because the local pharmacist invited you to his yearly picnic that’s open to everyone in town?”
“That’s not the only reason. Everyone is just so warm and inviting here. I’ve only been in Gauthier a week, but you wouldn’t know it by the way I’ve been treated. The people here have gone out of their way to make me feel at home.”
He looked over at her and grinned. “I hate to burst your bubble, but they’re only doing that because they’re nosy and you’re the shiny, new attraction in town.”
Tamryn’s head flew back. “Thanks for putting my ego in check.”<
br />
Her crack of laughter drew particularly interested stares from the group of ladies she’d spoken to earlier. They all looked toward her and Matt with approving smiles on their faces.
“We seem to be the object of quite a few stares,” Tamryn observed.
Matt looked over to the table and waved. “Told you,” he said. “Nosy as hell.”
“Stop it. They’ve all been very sweet to me.”
His lazy gaze traveled the length of her body before settling on her lips. “I’m finding that being sweet toward you is not hard to do.”
“Thank you,” she said with a demure smile.
Matthew’s eyes remained on her lips for several heated moments more before he seemed to shake himself out of a daze and returned to his carton of crawfish. He peeled off another and sucked it.
Tamryn couldn’t hold it in. She burst out laughing.
“What?” Matt asked.
“I can’t believe you’re sucking on that.”
“Because that’s where all the flavor is.” He held one out to her. “Here, give it a try.”
She put a hand up. “I’ll pass.”
“Come on. You cannot come to Louisiana during crawfish season and not suck at least one head.” His eyes flew to hers. “It only sounds sexual. Don’t slap me for talking dirty.” He shoved the crawfish toward her again. “Go on, give it a try.”
She shook her head.
“Well, at least try the tail.”
Tamryn eyed the little curl of meat and, after a bit of hesitation, leaned over and captured the piece Matt held out to her between her teeth.
“Mmm...” she murmured. “Good.” She coughed and tapped her chest. “Spicy.”
Matt’s eyes remained on her mouth. He watched her for several moments, his eyes intense as he stared at her. The heat that traveled along her skin had nothing to do with the spicy food she’d just consumed.
Without taking his eyes off her mouth, Matt peeled another crawfish tail and held it up to her. “Another?” he asked.
Tamryn nodded, once again eating from his fingers.
Matt released an audible breath. He dropped the other half of the crawfish into the box and picked up the longneck beer he’d carried with him.
Tamryn nodded toward the crawfish head he’d tossed on top of the others. “You’re not going to suck it?”
He shook his head. “This time it would be sexual.”
Her head fell back with another peal of laughter that again drew stares.
“That sexy laugh isn’t helping,” Matt said. He blew out a deep breath and twisted around on the swing. “We need to talk about something else. How’s the research going?”
“You don’t find talk of historic research stimulating?”
“Not as stimulating as talk of sucking heads,” he said with another swig of beer.
Tamryn wasn’t sure she agreed. Just having him near her inspired all sorts of stimulating thoughts. Especially in those jeans he wore.
“So?” he asked. “Made any breakthroughs with the research?”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t found anything new relating to the connection between Nicolette Gauthier and Adeline West,” she said. “But then again, I haven’t started the really intense research yet. That’ll happen in a couple of days, when I start working in the archives at Xavier University. They have an extensive collection on African-American history specific to Louisiana.” Tamryn rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait.”
Matt stared at her as if she was an alien with six arms.
“I have never in my life seen someone so excited about visiting a library,” he said, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone. “What’s your cell number? I know the head of the History Department at Xavier. I can put you in contact with him.”
Tamryn gasped. “Dr. Ezekiel Marsh?”
“Yeah, you know him?”
“I don’t know him know him, but I know of him, of course. I use his textbook on the African diaspora in several of my classes. He’s renowned in my circle.”
“Well, in my circle, he’s a frat brother who made me eat cat food when I pledged to my fraternity. Thankfully, he’s outgrown such nonsense.”
Tamryn choked on a laugh. “You don’t seem like the frat-boy type.”
He shrugged. “Another of those family things. All the men in my family pledged to the same fraternity. It’s what was expected.”
She tipped her head to the side, studying his strong profile. “So, do you always do what’s expected of you?”
“Not always,” he said. “I’ve been known to occasionally break with tradition and do my own thing.”
Her brow arched. “Like driving a motorcycle?”
“Yes, as far as I know, I’m the only Gauthier man to drive a Ducati.” His eyes creased at the corners as a sly grin broke out across his face. “Whenever you’re ready for another ride, just say the word. I usually prefer riding solo, but I have to admit that I enjoyed seeing you straddle my bike.”
The breath she was just about to take clogged in her lungs. Must his voice sound so sexy?
“I have a feeling letting you take me for a ride would be dangerous,” Tamryn replied.
That grin hitched a bit higher as his hooded gaze zeroed in on her mouth. “I can promise it would be worth it.”
Her stomach quivered. The husky timbre of his voice, combined with those entrancing dimples and mesmerizing green-and-hazel eyes, posed all kinds of threats to her resolve to remain focused on her work. If she was not careful, she could find herself losing sight of her goal, something she refused to let happen again. It had cost her too much the first time.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer,” Tamryn said. She would not allow the flash of disappointment that shadowed his face to affect her. She pushed up from the swing. “Thanks for the introduction to yet another Louisiana delicacy.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said as he rose. “Are you leaving?”
She nodded. “I have a lot of work to do tonight.”
“Let me walk you to your car.”
“No, I can manage.”
He slanted her a look. “You remember that Southern-gentleman thing I mentioned the other day, right? I can’t allow you to walk to your car alone, especially with all the eyes watching us. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Ah, yes. The reputation. It must remain intact.” She shook her head. “It must be exhausting trying to live up to the standards of being a Southern gentleman.”
“Only when the tasks are unpleasant,” he said. “And I think we both know that isn’t the case this time.”
He crooked his arm, an invitation for her to thread hers through it. When she obliged, Tamryn was sure she heard a collective sigh of approval coming from the ladies who had been watching them earlier. As she walked alongside him, her body gave its own appreciative sigh, relaxing into their easy stroll.
Matt might not think he posed a danger to her, but Tamryn was under no illusions. With very little effort, this man had the potential to sidetrack her from all of her well-laid plans.
They arrived at her car and he opened the door for her, but instead of moving to the side so that she could get in, he stood inside the doorway, draping his arm on the door.
“Let me take you to dinner tonight,” he said.
Tamryn was astounded at how quickly she almost agreed. Even though a mental list of all the reasons why getting involved with Matthew Gauthier was a bad idea ran on a constant loop inside her head, the urge to say yes to his invitation was so strong that it pained her when she said, “I really cannot, Matt.”
“Why?”
Folding her arms over her chest, she said, “Maybe I should be asking you that question.”
His head reared back slightly. “W
hat question? Why I asked you to dinner?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A legitimate one,” she said. “You’ve spent the past six months avoiding me. Why this sudden desire to take me to dinner?”
He blew out a ragged breath and ran both hands down his face. He glanced over at the house across the street and then brought his eyes back to her.
“Here’s the thing,” he started, holding his hands up. “If I come right out and admit that it’s because I think you’re one of the hottest women I’ve ever met, it will make me sound shallow.”
Tamryn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “That does come across as a bit shallow—”
“You see—”
“—but honest,” she continued. “I appreciate honesty.”
His gaze narrowed as he closed the car door and leaned against it. “You want honest?” he asked. “Because if you want me to be completely honest, I can admit that when it comes to you, this whole Southern-gentleman thing is just an act. There is nothing even remotely gentleman-like that runs across my mind when I look at you.”
Her breath faltered as it crawled from her lungs. She coughed to clear away the desire that had lodged in her throat. “Well, I asked for honest, didn’t I?” Tamryn said.
Matt closed the distance between them. He reached down and captured her left hand. He trailed the fingers of his right hand down her cheek, letting them linger on her jaw.
“Just dinner,” he said. “We can start there.”
Tamryn shut her eyes tight against the powerful yearning that surged inside of her. Then she thought about the blows her career had already sustained after the last time she allowed her emotions to get in the way of her common sense.
“I can’t,” she said. She took a step back, then went around him and got into her rental car. She didn’t even chance looking at him out the driver’s side window. She started the car and pulled away from the curb before she lost all ability to fight the lust that threatened to get her in a heap of trouble she didn’t need this summer.
Yours Forever Page 6
