Beauty and the Bayou: Boys of the Bayou Book 3

by Erin Nicholas

  “We’re going to get my partners and my employee”—oh yeah, he was going to remind his baby sister that she worked for him—“to admit that this was all just a big joke they’re pulling on me.”

  “Wait, what?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “This is binding. The lawyer did the mediation paperwork and everything. We committed money and two weeks’ time and labor to this.”

  “Two weeks?”

  “That’s how long Chase has until he has to report to school.”

  Sawyer sighed. It would be great if any of this made sense. “School?”

  “He starts med school in two weeks. So, we’re here until then. We’ll get as much done as possible and then pay for someone to finish it. Maybe Mitch and Leo,” she said, perking up.

  “No. Mitch and Leo are not going to be finishing it,” Sawyer said. Even if he thought Leo could get off his barstool before ten a.m. and not take an afternoon fishing break every day, he needed Leo and Mitch both driving the buses for Boys of the Bayou. They did the hotel pickups and drop-offs in New Orleans for all of the tourists that came down for their tours.

  But two weeks was enough time to rebuild a dock. If you knew what you were doing.

  “But—”

  “Juliet,” Sawyer said. Saying her name gave him a little jolt. It wasn’t a bad jolt. It almost felt like excitement. But it was weird. “I’m sorry that your brother is on the road to becoming an entitled asshole, but that’s not really my problem. A functioning, safe, and solid dock for my business is.”

  “You don’t think that the entitled assholes in the world are kind of all of our problem?” she asked dryly.

  He’d give her that. “Still, I can’t even keep myself from being an asshole, so I don’t think I can be worrying about preventing someone else from becoming one.”

  “You’re an asshole?”

  “You can’t tell?”

  She tipped her head, studying him. “I mean, I saw a glimmer here and there, but no, not really.”

  Yeah, well, she should stick around.

  Except she should not stick around.

  “You kept me from falling off the dock.”

  “I would have done that for anyone,” he said. She didn’t need to think that he had a soft spot for her. He didn’t. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

  But she laughed lightly—and he felt that jolt again, stronger this time.

  “The fact that you would save anyone from falling doesn’t make you an asshole, Sawyer.”

  Damn, her saying his name was also jolt-inducing.

  He cleared his throat. “Maybe you’re not a great judge of asshole-ness. Maybe your brother is fine.”

  “He is fine,” she said. “But it’s a tenuous situation.”

  Again, Sawyer had the urge to laugh. He shook his head. “How so?”

  “My two older brothers are assholes. The guys he’s been living with and hanging out with in his fraternity are definitely assholes. Without some good influences, Chase could easily be won over to their side.”

  Sawyer was startled to hear a small chuckle actually emerge from his chest. “So what? You’re tryin’ to save your little brother’s soul in two weeks’ time?”

  “Something like that. But—” she added, looking just a hint shy for a moment.

  “But?” he prompted.

  “I need a little help.”

  Sawyer didn’t want to know more about all of this. He had plenty of people to help already. Still he said, “What kind of help?” He was a Landry. He couldn’t resist getting involved in other people’s business. It was a genetic flaw for sure.

  “Giving him a good influence,” she said. She shrugged. “I know it sounds pathetic and you probably think my brother is a spoiled, rich kid who…” She sighed. “He is a spoiled, rich kid. But he’s got potential. And I think that some hard work and being around guys who do actual hands-on work for a living could be good for him.”

  “You don’t know anything about us.” But Sawyer couldn’t deny that her words stirred him. They did all work hard and they were all good guys—well, not him, but the other guys—who could be a good influence on a spoiled kid who’d had a pretty cushy life.

  “I know that your family has owned this business for three generations. I know that you guys not only own it but actually do the work. And I know I only met Owen and Josh and Bennett and Maddie for a little bit last week, but I could tell that they really care about each other. I just thought they seemed like guys that could be good influences on Chase.”

  Sawyer snorted at that. Josh and Owen as a good influence on someone? Right. They were both happier and stayed home more since Tori and Maddie were in their lives, but nothing could take all of the mischief out of a Landry boy. “My most common phrase to those two? Quit fucking around.”

  She tipped her head. “But is that on them…or is that more about you?”

  Sawyer lifted a brow. She thought she’d already figured him out, huh? “How about a little of both?”

  She smiled, and fuck if it didn’t hit him in the gut. “But they’re hardworking guys, who run a family business in their hometown and who were willing to give my brother a chance to do the right thing. They’re about as opposite from the guys my brother hangs out with as you can get. I think it would be good for Chase to be around them. And if they’re also laid-back and like to have some fun, that’s great, too, actually. I want him to see that you can have fun without it involving platinum credit cards and yachts.”

  Yeah, well, there sure as hell weren’t a lot of yachts on these waters.

  She pressed her lips together, then added, “I’d love for him to see what it looks like when someone truly has your back. What real family and friends look like. From what I’ve read and seen, I think that could happen here.”

  Sawyer opened his mouth to reply, but he wasn’t sure with what. She couldn’t have said anything better to get on his good side. Well, other than, “You’re right” and “I’ll do anything you say.” Those were both pretty good, too.

  “How could you tell that after being around them for only an hour?” he finally asked.

  Juliet shrugged. “How they talked to each other maybe? How they just were. Maddie and Bennett, too. They gave each other a hard time and didn’t hesitate to disagree, but it was clear they were a united front when it came to what was best for the business. I admire that. And I read all about the business, the history with your grandfather and his best friend starting things up, and you and Tommy taking it over and then bringing the other guys on. It’s clear there are deep roots here.”

  She’d done her homework. She’d noticed the bond between Josh, Owen, and Maddie. She respected the history here, and she wanted her brother to be influenced by Josh and Owen and even Bennett—who was a good guy even if he hadn’t been raised on the bayou. Bennett had a similar respect and affection for the way they’d built and maintained the family business and kept it in their hometown, for better or worse. Josh and Owen, even Maddie and Kennedy, drove Sawyer crazy. But they did work hard. They also played and laughed and loved hard. He loved them to his bones. He knew they loved him, too, and had his back. Hell, they’d been putting up with his grumpy, grieving ass for months now.

  If Juliet Dawson wanted her little brother to spend time with his little brother and cousin in an effort to make him a better guy, Sawyer couldn’t really find fault with that.

  Dammit. He was intrigued by this woman. He hadn’t been intrigued by anyone or anything in a very, very long time. Maybe intrigued was a strong word for it, but she was…not irritating. And even that was something.

  “Come on. I’ll buy you breakfast and we can see what my brilliant partners thought was going to happen here.”

  “Just remember, I do have the hard hat.” She bent to pick it up and plopped it on her head.

  She looked adorable in it.

  Fuck. Adorable? He hadn’t even thought that word in months. Ev
en about the cute kids that came for swamp boat tours. Of which there were many. But Josh and Owen kept most of those groups on their tour boats lately. Sawyer, who had once been the best one with the kids, was too fucking grumpy to deal with kids and their tendencies to bounce in their seats, stand up on the boat when they weren’t supposed to, and reach out for things they shouldn’t. He’d snapped at a few, made two cry, and Owen had taken him off kid tour duty.

  It was for the best. He liked the little ones—elementary school ages—but his scar would probably scare them.

  But Juliet was a little adorable and didn’t seem a bit scared of him. She also seemed like she’d stay in her seat if she was out on a boat tour. He wouldn’t have to snap at her even once.

  Sawyer nodded. “The hat’s a point in your favor, I’ll admit.”

  “Oh, and safety goggles.”

  She did have safety goggles?

  He sighed. Dammit. He might be screwed here.

  Screwed. There was another building term that could also be sexual.

  2

  Sawyer Landry.

  She’d read about him in the brochure and online, but no one had mentioned that Sawyer was still, currently, an active part of the business.

  Juliet tried to keep up with his long strides as he headed up the ramp that led off the dock and onto the paved path outside Boys of the Bayou. But between her short legs, the hip waders, and the fact that she just didn’t do long and hurried very well, she was several feet behind him before he noticed and stopped.

  Though the view from behind Sawyer Landry was nothing to be upset about.

  The man was big. As in tall and broad and with big muscles. Really big muscles. Like oh-my-god-I-want-to-squeeze-those biceps. That had actually been her first thought when she’d seen the soft green cotton of his Boys of the Bayou T-shirt wrapped lovingly around those upper arms. She wanted to squeeze them. Feel them bunching. The way they would if he were to lift her up and—

  “You comin’ or what?”

  She blinked and jerked her thoughts away from Sawyer Landry’s wet-panty-inducing biceps. There was the rest of him to think about, too, after all—the shoulders, the ass, the scar. A little shiver went through her. That scar was hot. It made his otherwise if-I-was-a-model-for-hip-waders-everyone-would-own-them face and body a little less perfect. More touchable. Rugged and wounded. Those were the words that came to mind when she paired that scar with the broody look in his eyes. She wanted to know everything about that scar. She wanted to trace it with her finger, then her lips. She wanted to find out if he only smiled with half of his mouth because he was always only mildly amused, the way he’d seemed on the dock with her, or if it was because there was some nerve damage under that scar.

  She stopped in front of him on the path where he was waiting for her. “These are my bayou-wading boots, not my running boots,” she told him.

  He looked down at the hip waders, his gaze lingering on her upper thighs.

  Ooh, tingles. She liked those.

  “I can’t believe you’re wearing hip waders,” he said, almost to himself.

  Juliet put a hand on her hip. “I was coming down to the bayou. I don’t know much about how things work down here, but I understood water and mud.” She lifted a foot, turning it back and forth as she studied the boot. “Regular boots didn’t seem like enough. So, I went to the local sporting goods and hunting supply store, told them what I’d be doing, and this is what they recommended.”

  Sawyer nodded at her. “Good thinking.”

  For some reason that surprised her. He didn’t seem like the type who gave a lot of compliments. She already had the impression that he liked things a certain way—his way. And that he expected most people to fall short. Surely a girl showing up out of the blue—apparently Josh, Owen, Maddie, and Bennett hadn’t only neglected to tell her about Sawyer—without a clue as to how to build a dock but insisting that she teach her brother a lesson, could be a tad irritating.

  But she really needed to teach her brother a lesson.

  Chase wasn’t a bad guy. He’d just had a really easy life and hadn’t needed to make a lot of hard decisions or take responsibility for much. Their father was wealthy and connected, their older brothers Ryan and Rhett were all about success and power and had no qualms about using their father’s influence to get ahead. They were four and six years older than Juliet and until she’d turned ten, they’d been okay big brothers. But after her hospitalization, things had changed. At fourteen and sixteen they hadn’t had the patience to deal with her and her new limitations and they’d given up quickly, leaving her behind more often than not. Chase had been younger by three years and, being the baby brother, had already been left behind by the older two a lot. He could keep up with Juliet and so they’d grown closer. Now, though, since he’d been at college and in their older brothers’ fraternity, he was showing signs of being infected with the Dawson family asshole-itis.

  She was going to do whatever she could to put a stop to that.

  Owen and Josh Landry had seemed like the perfect hardworking, blue-collar, fun-loving, responsible, and nice guys to be a good influence on Chase.

  Yeah, she really did think that Chase needed some dirt under his nails and a few blisters.

  Now, looking up at Sawyer, she wondered what he’d think of Chase and if Sawyer would give him a chance. What she knew about building a boat dock had come from Brandon and a few YouTube videos.

  Chase knew even less than she did.

  “You think me getting hip waders was good thinking?” she asked.

  “I like a girl—a person—” he corrected, “who does their homework and prepares,” he said.

  Then you’re gonna love me. Thankfully, she didn’t say that out loud, but if homework and preparation got him going, he was going to be into her. Not that she’d want that. Not that she’d expect that. Not that it was even worth thinking about. She was here for two weeks to build a dock—but mostly to make her little brother work hard for a change and hang out with some good guys rather than his spoiled rotten, idiotic, frat brothers—and there was no reason to get caught up in some guy.

  But yeah, if Sawyer liked preparation, he was going to go gaga over her accordion files.

  She’d learned over the years that she’d rather be over prepared than surprised, or worse, embarrassed. Shit happened, and she’d found that expecting that and having a plan for when it did, served her well.

  “Well, I can assure you that, if nothing else, I have a plan,” she told Sawyer.

  He studied her for a moment. Then he said, “I guess a girl doesn’t show up with safety goggles on a whim, huh?”

  Juliet felt her mouth tug up on the left in a little smile. “That’s a pretty good assumption.”

  He let out a breath that seemed resigned. “Cora better have sausage gravy this mornin’,” he said.

  “Sausage gravy will make it all okay?”

  “Well, sausage gravy never made anything worse.”

  She was going to have to take his word for that.

  Sawyer turned and started across the road toward the rickety-looking building.

  “Um…where are we going?”

  “Oh, the rundown shed has you worried?” he asked.

  “Maybe a little.”

  He gave a soft chuckle. It was a low, rumbly sound that made her shiver again. But it was a warm shiver.

  “Well, you can stay down here while I go talk to them,” he said. “Just watch out for the snakes.”

  Juliet picked up her pace. She couldn’t do much. She didn’t walk quickly to start with and when she tried, she was at risk for dragging her right foot and catching her toe. The heavy boots made it even worse. But until she could look up more about the snakes in this part of Louisiana, she was just going to avoid them. And keep these cover-almost-everything boots on. “That’s okay. I think I’ll risk my luck in the shed.”

  “Okay, but you should know that sheds and garages and outhouses and stuff are the perfect spot
s for black widows.”

  He sounded amused, but Juliet’s shiver was definitely cold this time. She definitely knew that black widows were spiders.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked him. “Trying to make it so I won’t sleep at all while I’m here? Between the alligators and the snakes and the spiders, what the hell are you all doing down here?”

  He actually outright laughed at that, and for a second Juliet thought she’d risk a few spider bites to hear more of that. They surely had antivenom in the hospitals around here, right? She’d look that up, too.

  “I guess we don’t know any better,” Sawyer said. He stopped in front of the door to the shack. He looked down at her. “I should say that I’m sorry for scaring you, but…” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not. I’d rather someone be scared and think I’m an asshole but not have a black widow bite than think I’m a nice guy and end up in the ER.”

  She met his gaze. “For what it’s worth, I’d think you were more of an asshole if you didn’t warn me about spider bites.”

  For a second, a little warmth flickered in his eyes. Then he said, “We’re gonna get along just fine then. I can scare the hell out of you about hangin’ out down here and I won’t even have to exaggerate.”

  “Um, yeah, the whole scenario with me strangling with the rope I would use to tie myself to the dock? Not something I would have even thought of and I’m a pro at the What-If game and Yeah, But game. You’re good.”

  “The Yeah, But game?” he asked.

  “For instance, someone says, ‘I’ll be sure to put my seat belt on in the car’ and I say, ‘Yeah, but if your car ends up in the river and is going under, you would wish you didn’t have it on.’”

  His eyes widened. “Wow.”

  She nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. You might have met your worst-case-scenario match, Sawyer Landry.”

  Again, that little spark of warmth flickered in his gaze. “Maybe we’ll have to make that into a drinking game or something.”

  She grinned. “Hey, maybe. Though I’m a lightweight.”

  Sawyer’s gaze ran over her body again. “Do you get more morbid or less when you’re tipsy?”