by Zoe Dawson
“That’s one way of looking at it. Can I take these journals, too? Maybe there is something in them.”
“Sure. To me it’s a bunch of junk.” I wasn’t positive I bought into her theory, but she seemed pretty passionate about it.
“How could you not be curious about him?”
He’s the man who ruined any chance of me ever being with you permanently. The thought just stood there, looking at me. Waiting. But I couldn’t tell her, because it would reveal how much I wanted to take this thing with us to any level she wanted to reach.
Instead, I snapped, before I could control the anger swelling in me, “Because he is the source of all our shame.” She stiffened. “That bullshit he did was handed down all the way to us. We’ve had to deal with it every day of our lives. I hope he’s still rotting in Hell.”
Her mouth tightened ever so slightly, probably more a sign of distress than anger. Things were going downhill faster than a boulder gathering no moss. Who was I kidding? This was still a disaster waiting to happen.
“You knew what you were getting into from the outset, River.” I said, all while feeling like I was bleeding internally.
She dropped her head, the muscles in her arms flexing. I felt her fight-or-flight instincts kick into “fight” mode and settle into a holding pattern. I wondered what the hell she was thinking.
The way she looked at me told me she could not only handle my bullshit but give it back to me in full measure. Which was fine, but there was no future for us, even though she held out the possibility, like a siren song.
“Don’t,” I said.
It was an order, and my tone shouldn’t have left her in any doubt, and still she was weighing her options. I could almost see the wheels turning. Should she cut her losses now? Could she deal with me? Was I a lost cause?
The answers to those questions were yes, yes, and yes.
“Don’t,” I repeated, something I wasn’t used to doing, but found myself doing a lot with her. I was used to being heeded, but considering it was River Pearl, I figured my compliance ratio was about to hit an all-time low.
She was a whole lot of sass.
“I’m not very touchy-feely,” I continued. “I’m fucking angry most of the time. I’m used to doing what I want to do and not having to answer to anyone. I’m sure I’ll hurt you without meaning to.”
I was trying to be honest here. I did not want to hurt her. We had this out-of-control attraction and our personal connection was off the charts, but the bottom line was this wasn’t going anywhere.
“If you want to leave and…”
“I’m not leaving, and you’re going to keep your promise and help me with this speech. I don’t care if you’re not touchy-feely. All I want is an honest response to my questions. Everything else can be worked out.”
“No it can’t. We both know it. We have a finite time together. Let’s not waste it arguing.”
“I’ve discovered going a few rounds with you isn’t a waste of time, Brax. I learn a lot when you get agitated.”
She looked down at my crotch then back up to my eyes. “Is it because I kneed you in the groin? Is that why…”
“I told you,” I gritted. “It’s because you startled me.”
She closed her eyes like I was the biggest pain in the ass. Maybe I was.
“Brax, please tell me what’s wrong.”
I was saved by my cell.
Thank God.
“Hello.”
“Brax, it’s Jackie. You gotta get here, now.”
“Why what’s wrong.”
“We’re running out of everything. I had no idea how much work you did.”
It was true. I did an enormous amount of planning and prep each day to meet the demands of the customers, but Jackie was wrong. It wasn’t work for me.
“They’re going to complain we’re not serving what’s on the menu. I had to start serving the gumbo you scheduled for lunch tomorrow.”
“People can fucking complain. Tell them to go somewhere else. Geezus, I’ve been gone for two days.”
“You don’t mean it. And, I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Can’t you manage, Jackie?” I said.
“I’m totally embarrassed to say no. You’re going to need to delegate more, Brax. You work way too hard. We had a larger than usual crowd. Both the Cajun egg rolls and the crab cakes sold out. We’re low on the fish dish, too. We need a new menu and a miracle.”
“How much chicken do we have on hand?”
“Tons.”
“Sweet potatoes, mushrooms, and onions.”
“Yes, we have it all.”
“Bacon.”
“You’d kill me if I didn’t have bacon on hand.”
I smiled and chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it, old woman,” I said. “We have any of the green beans left?”
“Yes.”
“Tomatoes?”
“Yes, a good amount.”
“Start crushing them. Two pounds if we have them.”
“We do.”
“Red peppers?”
“Yes, got some a day ago.”
“Perfect. Angel hair?”
“Yes, plenty. I need the menu items.”
“Pan-fried chicken with bacon and sweet potato salad. Shrimp and mussels with zucchini, red pepper marinara sauce over angel hair. And we’ll keep the last item simple. Cheeseburger with onion rings and smoky mayo. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“We don’t have shrimp and mussels…”
“I know. I’ll take care of that part,” I said.
“Dessert?”
“Red velvet cupcakes? But we need something else.”
“Imogene’s makes the best pies.”
I looked at River sharply. “You want me to buy someone else’s pies and pass them off as mine?”
“No, put them on the menu. They’re her pies. Sometimes you have to compromise.”
“I don’t like compromising.”
“Big surprise,” River said under her breath.
“Who you talking to…and she’s right, compromise is good,” Jackie murmured in my ear.
“All right, then make it twenty minutes,” I said.
“Thank you, Brax. I won’t let you down again.”
“Jackie, you’ve never let me down.”
Chapter Fourteen
River Pearl
He rubbed at his forehead and glanced at me. The tension had returned, and his shoulders were tight. I was sure running his own business was stressful and, from what I could tell, he was there every day from morning prep to closing. I walked over to him and ran my hand over his back. It only seemed to make him tense up more, so I stepped away.
He dialed.
“Hey,” he said. “I need a shit-ton of shrimp and mussels.” He listened to the voice on the other end of the line. “That should do it. I’ll pay you double if you can get them to Outlaws in twenty minutes. Thanks.” He stood there for a minute. He looked tired, and the ugly bruise on his jaw had to still hurt a lot. His ribs looked even worse. I could just throttle my brother.
“As you overheard, I’ve got to go in. I usually do a lot of prep for the dishes we’re serving, and it seems the Cajun egg rolls and the crab cakes were a big hit.”
“Did I distract you?”
“Yeah. But, it’s not your fault. I should have planned better. Things just happened and got out of hand. I promised you the day. Don’t you want to fight some more?”
I rolled my eyes and nudged him. “Can’t we fight in your kitchen?”
“You’re coming with me?”
“Yes, of course. You can teach me more stuff and make me Cajun egg rolls and crab cakes to make up for it.”
“Oh, I can?”
“Yes. Then maybe you’ll tell me what’s wrong.”
He dropped his head back. “Geezus you surely know how to pester a guy.”
“Brax…” but before I could finish, he dropped his mouth over mine and kissed me very slowly and very softly. I totally forgo
t what I was going to say, my name, and where I lived.
“Hush, you feisty sugar pie.” He captured my gaze and slowly moved to my mouth again, “Yeah, just open your pretty mouth for me.” He kissed me again and my brain simply shut down.
Twenty minutes later we walked through the double doors of Outlaws and Braxton went right to work. I’d always known he was amazing in the kitchen, but when push came to shove, he whipped everyone into shape and had them organized with his just-this-side-of-grumpy-chef attitude. I could tell the people who worked for him admired him and didn’t hesitate to follow his orders.
My brother Chase came through the back door with two stacked boxes and plunked them down on Brax’s counter, smiling at him and nodding while they talked. I studied my absent brother. I hadn’t seen him in two years, and my heart turned over to see how much he’d changed. A sudden sadness brought a lump to my throat.
Chase had changed so much. He was still six feet tall, but his shoulders had broadened and his voice deepened. His jawline was more defined, and his hair, which had once been dark blond, was now a burnished bronze. His face had all the angles and planes of a man’s, tempered by his boyish features and warm smile. Only his eyes were unchanged. They were still the same crystal blue, still fringed with thick, dark lashes, still steady and intense, seeing much, but giving little away.
Brax gestured toward me and Chase’s head turned. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he rushed around the counter. The lump in my throat got bigger when he enfolded me in a tight embrace.
“God, River. It’s so wonderful to see you,” he murmured.
I nodded, my throat tight, and my heart too sore to answer without bursting into tears. This knowledge I now held needed someone to bounce it off of. Maybe Chase could be the one to give me some advice. He held onto me for a few moments more. “You have to come and see me. We’ll go on the bayou.”
“Okay, just text me the directions,” I said, finally able to speak.
“I’ve got to go. I’ve got more deliveries to make.”
“Text me.”
“I will. Give me your number.” He smiled and rattled off the number. “You look good.”
“You do too.”
He flashed me his special smile, and I smiled back, feeling skinned raw.
When Chase left, I noticed Brax was completely slammed, and, feeling extraneous, I walked out to the bar area. And there was Savannah Hawkins, lounging at a table close to the bar. For a moment I was completely surprised, but then I saw the hottie bartender from the country club giving her glances. But keeping his distance.
I moseyed on over to where she sat nursing a soda. “Hey there, sweetie.” She looked over at me and reached over to give me a hug. “What are you doing in here?” I asked.
“Getting something to wet my whistle. Just finished the maintenance over at the church.”
“Sure you are.”
She looked sheepish and eyed the guy. “His name is Rory Finnegan.”
“And?”
“I can tell he’s interested.”
“Oh, you can? How?”
She gave me a sly look. “It’s in the eye contact and the body language.”
“He’s older than you are, right?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything? I’m thinking about getting a tattoo.”
“Are you? Where?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“They can’t be washed off. I’d think twice before I let him mark me.”
She sighed and gave him another look.
When I turned my head, I did a double-take. There was my uncle…with Mrs. Outlaw…uh, Evie.
They both saw me and my uncle beckoned me over. “You watch yourself, Savannah,” I said, giving Rory Finnegan a quick glance. “Excuse me. I see my uncle.”
“Talk to you later.”
I approached the table and my uncle stood and held the chair for me. “River, I decided to take your advice to eat here, and Evie agreed to keep me company.”
I sat down and smiled at her. She looked beautiful. Her dark hair was swept back off her stunning face, her golden brown eyes as spicy as her Cajun background. I smiled again when I saw the besotted look on my uncle’s face, an expression I had never seen before in my entire life. My handsome, favorite uncle smiled a full smile as he regarded Evie. He had always been the wanderer, had traveled extensively internationally, writing a food column for an online magazine.
“Oh, no. Brax is out of the Cajun egg rolls and crab cakes, but he promised to make me some. I’ll ask him to make them for you, too.”
“I enjoy anything Braxton makes,” Evie responded, smiling back at Uncle Win.
“Well, you two enjoy your dinner. I’ll go talk to Brax.
As I stood, Boone, followed closely by Verity, Booker, and Aubree walked in. A surge of excited talk went through the crowd. They all knew they were in for a treat. Whenever the three brothers were together in one place they always put on a show.
Verity and Aubree both saw me and the Outlaw brothers saw their momma with my uncle. The looks on their faces were very different. My friends were very happy to see me, but Boone and Booker both frowned.
Their momma noticed them and their interest, but Evie didn’t look the least bit intimidated by her formidable sons. It was common courtesy for them to come over. All four of them changed direction and headed towards us.
“Ma,” Boone said, leaning down and giving her a kiss on her cheek, followed by Booker. Boone looked at my uncle for a minute. “Are you on a date?”
There was a complete silence. My uncle smiled. He was used to bluntness and sass from me and encouraged it. He was simply the bestest.
“Boone,” Evie said, then she giggled. Both her sons gaped at her, something subtle coming over them both as if they were just now noticing their momma was a young, desirable woman.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Braxton’s voice made everyone turn to look at him. When we parted and he saw who we were gathered around, he frowned. His mouth tightened and he gave me a stormy glance, like this was somehow my fault.
“Brax,” I said breaking the silence and slipping my arm through his. “This is my Uncle Winchester. These are Braxton, Boone and Booker Outlaw. And my friends Aubree Walker, Booker’s fiancé, and Verity Outlaw, Boone’s wife.”
“Pleased to meet you all.”
“Brax, my uncle is a food critic. He’d love to sample your egg rolls and crab cakes.”
“I’m out,” he said in his stubborn Brax voice.
“But, you said you’d make me some. Could you make another serving? I raved about them to him.”
He turned a steely gaze on me. “Please,” I said, and watched his hard look turn to mush.
He gave me a long-suffering sigh and nodded. After greeting his brothers and my friends, he disappeared back into the kitchen.
After wishing my uncle and Evie a good dinner, we retreated to the table reserved for the Outlaws. Settling into her chair, Verity said affectionately, “Boone, you are so nosy.”
“What? We all wanted to know.”
“Yeah, what’s up, River?” Booker said, sliding another glance over to his momma while she smiled, laughed and conversed with my uncle. “She looks different. So young and happy.”
“Umm. I guess Braxton hasn’t had a chance to mention it, but I was at your momma’s house a couple days ago, and she gave me a ride home. My uncle was on the porch when she pulled up and I could see he was smitten.”
Aubree and Verity exchanged loaded glances.
“Why were you at my ma’s?” Boone asked, looking at Verity, knowing something was up.
“I’m including Duel Outlaw in the speech I’m writing for the Founder’s Day festival. I went there to get research material.”
Boone and Booker gaped at me the same way Braxton had, but they didn’t get as angry.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Have you completely lost your senses?
”
Booker and Boone spoke at the same time.
“No. I want to do something different, and talk about friendship.”
Booker let out a short laugh. “Friendship? This town could care less about us, and if you’re trying to change their minds, you’re wasting your time.”
“I don’t think I am.”
“What did Brax say?” Boone asked. “I bet he’s fit to be tied.”
“I think he’s tied up, all right,” Booker said looking at me. “Around someone’s little red polished pinky.”
“Yeah, River,” Boone leaned forward and set his forearms on the table, his knowing eyes sparkling. “Tell us what it’s like to tie up an Outlaw?”
“You’d know all about it,” Brax said, clapping a hand to Boone’s shoulder, bending down and murmuring, “You goddamned nosy bastard.”
Boone laughed and turned to Brax. “Yeah, but it’s more fun to hear about it. This one,” he threw his arm around Verity, “has me sewed up.” He leaned over and kissed her.
Some compelling force made me look at Brax. My gaze collided with his, and my heart caught in my throat.
He walked around the table and stopped in front of me. Bracing his hand on my chair back, he leaned in. “We’ll talk about who’s tying up who…later.” Straightening, he barked, “Huckleberries, jam.”
He walked a few paces backward toward the stage. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, barely aware when Boone and Booker rose and followed him. He picked up his fiddle. As soon as Booker was seated at the piano and Boone settled his guitar, they launched into Ram Jam’s “Black Betty.” Boone’s clear voice ripped out the fast-paced song, then moved into “Midnight Rider” by the Allmans. But then Brax stepped up to the microphone with “I’m No Angel,” then Skynyrd’s “Comin’ Back for More,” his voice smoky and deep. Then he did Dave Matthew’s “Crash into Me.”
He was looking at me, looking long and hard, his eyes dark, intense, and filled with enough raw appreciation to make a shiver go down my spine.
As the notes died, I walked to the stage and said, “Do you know ‘Double Rainbow?’”
Booker played the opening chords and I started singing.
#
