Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8)

by Rayne, Sara

  He wore white linen pants and a shirt unbuttoned to expose washboard abs a girl could do her laundry on. His strong jawline held a hint of five o’clock shadow, and with his cropped hair a spiky, disheveled, adorable mess, he had an artfully undone look.

  “Bienvenue, Lex. I am so pleased to meet you.” His hazel eyes flashed with wicked appeal as he took her hand, brushing his lips lightly over her knuckles. “I am Boone Brulé.”

  “Sounds more like the name of a dessert than a man,” Lex teased, feeling flustered.

  “I assure you, I am both,” he drawled in a voice made for sinning.

  Josie cleared her throat, and Lex snapped back to reality, tugging her fingers from his grasp. “Now that y’all have met, maybe we should fix Lex some supper?”

  “But of course. It’d be my pleasure to attend to your every need.” Boone smiled and extended his arm.

  “She already has an escort,” Josie said, linking elbows with Lex instead. “Stop your flirting and go on now. She ain’t fallin’ for none of your B.S.”

  “As long as she falls for me, I can work with that.” Boone gamely led the way downstairs to the kitchen. The savory scent of the holy trinity of Cajun spices—onions, bell pepper, and celery—along with rosemary, wafted up the staircase, and Lex no longer needed a guide. She could find the kitchen by following the grumble in her belly.

  “Smells amazing.” She breathed in deeply as they entered the kitchen. The sweet aroma of woodsmoke from the brick hearth on the back wall filled her lungs, wrapping her in comfort like a warm hug. An industrial sixteen-burner stainless steel stove and griddle took up the center of the kitchen.

  Heavy-duty freezers and French-door refrigerators lined the walls. Bundles of drying herbs and cloves of garlic hung in net baskets around the room. Copper pans dangled from a six-foot beam of refinished driftwood. It reminded Lex of the kitchen at Voo’s house.

  “Wait until you taste it.” Josie’s aunt, Josephine Brulé—affectionately referred to as “Phee” by her family—owned the Chance Brulé Bed and Breakfast. From what Lex understood, Phee was the family matriarch.

  She stood over a large cast-iron pot and waved them in with her wooden spoon without turning around. Phee’s curled, silver-streaked dark hair was pinned up, and she wore a sleeveless white cotton dress that gathered at the waist and swirled around her ankles as she moved. Red cat-eye sunglasses perched on the end of her upturned nose.

  “Don’t be hente, honey child,” Phee said, stirring her pot.

  “Hente?”

  “Means shy,” Boone said.

  “Hush.” Phee plopped a lid on her pot and grasped a long white cane with a red tip, which was resting against the stove. Adjusting her dark glasses, she said, “Lex, dear, come on in here and let me have a look at you.”

  She moved further into the kitchen. “You’re—”

  “Blind?” Phee cut in.

  “I was going to say funny.”

  Phee chuckled. “Josie’s told me a lot about you. Says you’s good people.”

  “Thank you for inviting me down here and letting me stay.” Lex swallowed. She’d never been more grateful for someone’s hospitality. The Brulé’s had made her more welcome here in the past few minutes than she’d been in a lifetime at Brad’s house.

  “Well, someone ought to while the place is still worth staying in.” Phee pointed at Lex. “Bring me a clove of garlic and pull up a stool. Josie—make us some coffee? And Boone, for the love of Bon Dieu, stop trying to seduce our guest before she’s even shaken the travel dust off. Behave your ornery-ass self!”

  “I wasn’t doing anything—”

  “Son, if you wasn’t doing something scandalous now, you was working on plans to do it later.” Phee put a hand on her hip and waved a spoon at him. “I know you as well as I made you, boy.”

  He put his hands up. “Okay, okay, I surrender.”

  Phee turned the flame under her pot down low as Josie got the coffee brewing. They settled around the wide farmhouse table near the hearth.

  “Now, Lex, tell me all about your broken heart.”

  Lex’s breath hitched. “Who said I have a broken heart?”

  “I could hear the sadness in your voice.” Phee took Lex’s hand. “Go on, now, tell me everything. The good stuff won’t be welcome until you release the bad.”

  “We just met.” Lex held out all of ten seconds. Phee’s calming presence, surrounded by this family, in this warm kitchen, felt like a hug. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she squeezed Phee’s hands tightly.

  “That’s how friendships start, honey child.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lex stepped out onto the wide front balcony, soaking in the sun. While Texas still had the odd arctic blast sweeping down the Great Plains in March, New Orleans was warm and balmy. The scent of magnolia drifted up from the grounds.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  She turned towards Boone’s husky tenor. “Afternoon, isn’t it?”

  He appeared between the French doors. A soft green T-shirt hugged his chiseled chest, reflecting hues in his hazel eyes. “If you just woke, I’ll bid a good morning to you. I missed you at brunch.”

  She yawned. This was her fourth morning waking up at the Chance, and each night’s sleep had been better than the last.

  “You’re too late for coffee. We’ll skip straight to the champagne.” He grabbed a tray with two sparkling champagne flutes off a small table by the door. “Mimosa?”

  “Mmm. Yes, please.” She took the glass from him, settling in a whitewashed Adirondack chair. She giggled. “I can picture the face my mom would make if she saw me roll out of bed mid-afternoon and immediately toss back some champagne.”

  “Oui?”

  “Imagine a cross between a gaping fish and someone who accidentally drank lemon juice.”

  Boone snickered, dropping into the chair beside hers. “You’re in a good mood.” He sipped at his champagne flute. “Our little town must agree with you.”

  Lex had realized nothing in Hell was under her control, and worrying about what might be happening there made her miserable. She’d texted Dani the night before that she had no plans to return anytime soon. Then she’d stuck the phone and her worries in a drawer.

  No one needed constant contact with her, and their lectures on what she should do with her life could definitely wait. She was going to have some fun.

  “Little town?”

  “Feels like one when you’ve lived here as long as I have. You’d think in a city like this you’d go weeks without runnin’ across someone who knows your name.” He swirled the liquid in his glass, holding it up to sparkle in the sunlight. “I never seem to get so lucky.”

  Lex cast him a glance. “You strike me as the sort of guy who likes to be remembered.”

  “Depends. With a beautiful woman like you, I strive to be unforgettable.”

  “You’re shameless.”

  He caught her eye, the playful smile fading to something more serious. “It’s important a woman knows she’s wanted—cherished, irreplaceable. She should never be taken for granted.”

  Sounds like heaven.

  Lex blinked away the tears stinging her eyes. Not today, Satan. She was not going to let the past few months rob her of enjoying this beautiful city in the company of a captivating man. Even if she did only want to be friends.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “Boone, underneath the womanizing exterior, you might have a genuine heart in there somewhere.”

  He held a finger to his lips. “Hush now, you’ll ruin my reputation.”

  “There you two are.” Josie came through the doors with a tray stacked with éclairs. “Anyone up for dessert leftovers?”

  Lex eagerly raised her hand.

  Laughing, Josie ambled across the porch, her white sundress swishing against her dark skin. Lex admired how free and easy Josie seemed. Even her clothing hinted at her fun-loving nature. Maybe being born in the Big Easy made people more relaxed.

>   She plunked down on the arm of Lex’s chair and offered the tray.

  Stomach growling, Lex grabbed an éclair and chomped down. The pastry was as light and airy as the chocolate filling was sinfully decadent. She licked a bit of glaze from her fingers, moaning happily, then she threw her arms around Josie and hugged her.

  “What’s that for?” Josie squeezed her tightly.

  “I’m so happy to be here.”

  “We’re happy you’re here, too, sweetie.” She kissed Lex’s forehead.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Brulé?” Johnny, one of the porters, stepped out onto the balcony. His black hair was slicked back against his head, as shiny as the leather loafers of his uniform. “I’m sorry, but he’s here again, and Ms. Phee is at the market with Alfonse.”

  Boone stiffened. “I’ll be right there. Thank you, Johnny.”

  Johnny inclined his head. He remained standing in the room, idly fidgeting. His squinty eyes focused on Lex, and it gave her the creeps.

  “You can go, Johnny.”

  “Right. Or I can wait for you?” The porter hesitated. “Mr. Devine makes me nervous.”

  Boone sighed. He squared his shoulders and nodded once to himself before striding inside.

  Lex followed, Josie trailing behind with a hand on her elbow. “Lex, maybe you should wait here….”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Lex paused at the top of the grand staircase. Boone stood at the base of the steps, arms folded. A blond man in an expensive suit stood on the marble tiles in the foyer, flanked by two guys dressed in business casual, holding clipboards.

  “Meet Apollo Devine,” Josie whispered. “He’s the one who loaned Phee the money to restore the Chance after Katrina.”

  “What do you want, Devine?” Boone demanded, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it.

  “Just checkin’ in on my property.” The man’s smile reminded Lex of a shark.

  “It’s not yours.” Josie descended the stairs to stand with her cousin.

  “Yet.” Apollo leaned an elbow on the deserted front desk. Apparently, Apollo made more staff than Johnny nervous. “Relax, I’m just here to take a few window measurements. Gettin’ ready to spruce the place up, once ownership transfers to me.”

  “Over my dead body,” Boone promised.

  “I could arrange that, too.”

  Josie placed a hand on Boone’s arm. “We have another week.”

  “Not much time to come up with a hundred grand.” Apollo faked a yawn. “While I wish you the best of luck, I have work to do. So the guys are going to finish up here for me.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Josie’s hands fisted at her sides. “They should bar you from ever owning property again after what you did.”

  “What did I do? Aside from offering your family the money you needed to rebuild when no one else would?”

  “Those housing developments you built—the corners you cut, the faulty water heaters. You might well have killed your tenants.”

  “Sounds like slander to me.” Apollo’s blue-green eyes flashed. “I didn’t kill those people. The hurricane did.”

  “I wonder….” Josie put a finger on her chin. “I doubt the excuse would’ve worked with your old man—had he lived. He was twice the man you are.”

  “Where were these principles when you came crawlin’ to me for help? Snipe all you like, harpy. Once you default on the loan, the Chance falls to me as collateral. Whether or not you think it’s ‘fair’ doesn’t change the law.”

  “And just because you will have ownership of a thing, don’t mean it belongs to you now.” The words were out of Lex’s mouth before she finished thinking them.

  Apollo’s attention snapped to her, his eyes widening.

  Lifting her chin, she descended the stairs to stand next to Josie. “Which still gives them the right as proprietors to kick you off the property for trespassing.”

  “And who might you be?” The blond stepped closer, looking her over from head to toe.

  “Lex Cooper.” She crossed her arms.

  “Have we met before, Ms. Cooper?” He gazed into her eyes. “You look familiar.”

  “No. This is my first time in New Orleans.”

  He smiled. “In from out of town, then?”

  “You heard the bit about trespassing, right?” Josie snapped.

  He stepped back, holding up his hands. “Fine, fine. Have it your way. For now.” He lifted his hand and made a circular gesture. “Pack it up, boys. We’ll come back soon.”

  Apollo and his tape-measure-wielding henchmen left. He tipped an imaginary hat on the way out.

  “What a dick.” Lex shuddered. “You guys borrowed money from him?”

  “Yeah. Dealing with the devil was the only way to survive at the time.” Boone rolled his neck. “I need another drink. Anyone else?”

  After a quick pit stop at the bar, the three settled back on the balcony with fresh mimosas for Lex and Josie and a handle of single malt scotch for Boone.

  “What he said…is it true? You’re losing the Chance?”

  Josie had mentioned in school the family B&B was in financial trouble. She’d majored in business management, intending to come back and save it. Josie and her mother had lived in a small apartment downtown until her mother died in Katrina and Aunt Phee brought Josie to live at the Chance. It had been in their family for generations.

  “Yeah, this grand ol’ dame is about to sing her last song, I’m afraid. We made a good go of it, though.” Boone tossed back his scotch in one swallow, staring at the grounds.

  The waver in his voice touched Lex. “You’re going to close?”

  Josie shook her head. “Not if we can help it, but things are looking pretty bleak.”

  “I don’t understand. You have plenty of guests, and the place looks great—I mean travel magazine great. What’s the problem?”

  “After Katrina, a lot of Northerners bought up NOLA real estate on the cheap, especially small businesses under financial strain. Fuckin’ carpetbaggers. It’s all tourism crap—voodoo dolls you could buy at Hot Topic and Krispy Kreme beignets,” Boone sneered. “One cochon kept trying to purchase the Chance, but Phee and I weren’t interested. They didn’t want to rebuild her, they wanted to change her.”

  The way he spoke about the bed and breakfast made it seem like he was discussing a fine lady he loved. Lex had a feeling she’d stumbled upon the reason Boone couldn’t settle down with a woman—the B&B ruled his heart.

  “Phee and Boone held out for a long time, but they ran out of options. The Chance was in bad repair after Katrina, and Aunt Phee was hurting for renovation money.” Josie lit a cigarette, waving the smoke away from Lex with elegant fingers. “About five years back, a man offered her a loan which paid for the complete restoration—a grand re-opening, new marketing, everything. We had her back to her original glory. The loan terms were ludicrous, but we were desperate.”

  Lex could see where this was going. “The asshole from downstairs? How’d Phee even get mixed up with him?”

  Josie and Boone exchanged a look. Josie put too much consideration into her word choice before she said, “We had a friend who was engaged to the man’s sister.”

  “His name was Simon LaCroix.” Boone snorted, refilling his glass. Josie took a long drink of her champagne, shoulders hunching.

  Okay, I’m missing something. Lex would follow up on the info later. “So now Phee can’t keep up with the loan payments?”

  “They’re ridiculous. The interest rate is in the double digits. We were at one hundred percent occupancy for three months—didn’t make a dent in how far behind we got.” Boone’s fists clenched. “We knew it was a bad deal when we took the loan, but we didn’t realize it was designed to put us under water.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The loan terms changed. It was an adjustable rate, which started low and manageable, then adjusted for ‘inflation’. He wants us to default and be forced to turn the property over to him.” Boone's fingers tightened o
n his glass. “The bastard already has a buyer in line. Since she’s been restored, he’ll sell it to some chain for ten times what he loaned us. And we’ll get nothing.”

  Josie’s jaw set. “I can’t believe we’re going to lose the Chance to that worthless prick.”

  “Isn’t there anything you can do? Wasn’t he your friend’s future brother-in-law? Could you talk to your friend, see if he could act as an intermediary?”

  Boone smiled tightly. “Mais non. Simon split after his fiancée died in the flood. He didn’t even stick around for the funerals—never even said goodbye.”

  Lex’s inner psychologist woke up. “You were close?”

  “We were. Once.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “They were thick as thieves. Literally.”

  “Ah, the exaggerated rumors of my misspent youth.” Boone attempted to look shame-faced and failed miserably.

  “You’re the one who spreads those rumors. Whatever. They grew up together. His grand-mére worked as a maid here when Phee was young. They became fast friends, and when Phee took over the business, she’d visit Phee here all the time and bring her grandson.”

  “So you were like cousins.” No wonder the wound cut so deep. Being abandoned by family hurt. Lex was an expert on the subject.

  “Oui. Brothers, even.”

  Something about Boone’s tone reminded her of Voo so strongly, she swore she could feel his presence. A pang of longing lodged in her ribcage. Well, she’d gone an entire half-hour without thinking of him this morning. Baby steps, right?

  Boone faced them, leaning back against the railing. “You remember the part about my misspent youth? Simon and I used to run cons. Started as pickpockets and street performers. I’d juggle and play the bugle, and he’d hustle Three Card Monte. Hell, he even read tarot a time or two.”

  Josie laughed. “And he didn’t even believe in voodoo. Not loa, hexes, gris-gris, tarot cards, any of it. Pretty sure he thought Marie LeVeau, the infamous Voodoo Queen herself, was hogwash.”