Easy Kisses (The Boudreaux Series Book 4) (16 page)

“What really happened?” Simon asks.

“It’s dumb.”

“You have to tell us now,” Van says with a grin.

“Well, we had already looked at the stars and the planets and stuff, and I could tell that Eddie didn’t just ask me out there to look through his telescope.”

“Shocker,” Gabby says with a snort.

“But I wasn’t going to let him into my pants. I was only sixteen. So, I challenged him to a throwing competition. It was lame, even to me, but I bet him that he couldn’t throw as far as me. His yard had tons of rocks in it.

“It actually got kind of fun. We would find different targets to challenge the other to hit, like a tree or a bush and stuff like that. I had a good arm. But then, it was my turn to throw, and I tripped and the rock went flying in the wrong direction, right through his grandmother’s bedroom window.

“I panicked and ran away.”

“You left him to take the blame?” Sarah asks incredulously while the rest of my family is wiping tears from laughing so hard.

“I didn’t want to get into trouble. His grandmother was a mean old thing.” I glance up at Simon to find him also laughing. “It’s dumb, but I thought for sure I was going to get my ass whooped for that. I lied to Mama, I broke someone else’s property,
and
I was out with a boy. Alone.”

“Yeah, you would have gotten into trouble for sure,” Van says when she could breathe again. “I’m just happy to hear that you made
some
mistakes.”

“Oh, I’ve made my share, sugar. Trust me.”

“Okay, now let’s talk about all the trouble Declan used to get into.”

“Good idea,” I reply and prepare to pay my baby brother back.

Chapter Twelve

~Charly~

“It’s beautiful here,” Simon says quietly from the passenger seat next to me as we drive out to my sister’s inn. “It’s hard to believe we’re only a few minutes from the city.”

“We go from city to boonies very quickly,” I agree and smile when he takes my free hand in his and gives it a squeeze. I’ve quickly become comfortable with Simon’s affection. “Thank you for last night.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he replies, surprised.

“You hung out with most of my family for the evening, listened to old stories, and you were a good sport about it.”

“I genuinely had a good time. Your siblings are fun.” He kisses my fingers, then places my hand back on the wheel. “I found out last night that you’re quite the rebel, but let’s keep both hands on the wheel.”

“I was not a rebel,” I say with a giggle.

“Apparently, sixteen was a rebellious year for you.”

“I’m going to kill Declan,” I mutter and turn off the freeway. “Let’s face it, if that’s all my parents had to deal with out of me, they were doing well.”

“Were there other little mischievous acts that no one knows about?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I was always convinced that I’d get caught, so I didn’t try to get away with much. I’m boring, I guess.”

“You’re anything but boring, love,” he replies and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. This man doesn’t just make my knees weak. He makes me forget that I even have knees. Or anything else for that matter, aside from the perpetually wet and throbbing spot between my legs. All he has to do is look at me with those hot, sky-blue eyes and I’m a pile of mushy goo.

Damn him.

“Our property line used to begin here,” I say, trying to get my mind out of the damn gutter. “It was a few thousand acres in the beginning.”

“When was the beginning?” he asks.

“A couple of hundred years ago,” I reply with a shrug. “My family has owned this since the mid-nineteenth century.”

“That’s a long time,” he says with a raised brow.

“Not by European standards.” I look over at him and smile. “We’re a baby compared to stuff over there.”

“True, but for the same family to own a piece of land for several hundred years is impressive. Where does the property line begin now?”

“Not far from the house. My great-grandfather began to sell pieces of the land, and my grandfather continued. We were building ships, not farming anymore, so the farmland was sold to families who wanted it to support themselves. We just didn’t need it.”

“That makes sense.”

“By the time my father inherited, the house was used for summers and holidays. We spent the majority of our time in the city. But I loved coming out here for the summer. We ran all over the place.”

He nods and looks out the window, watching the plantation houses go by, along with tall trees and swamp land.

Finally, we turn a corner, and Inn Boudreaux comes into view, flanked by ancient oak trees and green grass.

“There she is,” I say quietly and slow the car so he can take it in. The house is white, with tall columns and a red front door. The wrap-around porch is deep, perfect for sitting in the evening and watching lightning bugs.

“Wow,” Simon says with wide eyes. “These trees are magnificent.”

“They’re ancient,” I reply, looking at the familiar landscape. “Probably around six hundred years old.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I never kid about trees,” I reply with a straight face, then bust up laughing. “We don’t really know how old they are because they’ve been here much longer than this land was inhabited, but they’re perfect because they create a wind-tunnel of sorts to the house. It’s the first air conditioning system. When the house was built two hundred years ago, there was no air conditioning. The trees keep the house cool.”

“You’re intelligent,” he says out of the blue and drags a finger down my arm. “It’s fucking sexy.”

“Don’t start,” I reply and pull into the driveway. “We’re about to pick up my eleven year old nephew to take him to see the gators. No getting me all hot and bothered.”

“My apologies.” His smile is wide and smug, and I know that he’s not sorry at all.

And really, neither am I.

“Come on, let’s see if Sam is ready.”

I lead Simon up the steps of the front porch and inside without knocking.

“Gabby?”

“In the kitchen,” she calls out.

“So, Gabby runs the inn, as you know,” I say and point out the different rooms as we walk to the back of the house. “She makes breakfast for the guests every day.”

“Does she do this all by herself?”

“No, she has housekeepers who come in daily, and she hired someone to cover her days off after Rhys badgered her into it. Before that, yes, she did.”

“So you’re a family of workaholics,” Simon says.

“I suppose we are.”

“Hey, sugar,” Gabby says, her hands buried elbow-deep in a bowl of bread dough. “I’d hug you but I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay. Is Sam ready to go?”

“Almost,” she says and blows a strand of hair out of her face. “He’s helping the housekeeper clean the last couple of rooms.”

“Is he working off that window he broke?” I ask with a grin.

“He is,” she confirms and rolls her eyes. “Before I know it, I’ll have Sarah here from social services telling me I’m violating child labor laws.”

“He broke the window,” I reply and open the fridge, scan the contents, then snoop in a cupboard, hoping there are some pastries left over from this morning. “He should have to earn the money to replace it.”

“Agreed,” Simon says with a kind smile. God, he’s so damn
nice.

Well, most of the time. In bed, I’ve learned he’s bossy and aggressive. He’s just what I need in that area.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Sam asks as he bounds into the kitchen.

“I’m not smiling,” I reply and tug him against me for a hug as I take a bite out of a croissant. “Why are
you
smiling?”

“Because we get to go see
gators
!”

“Are you done with Miss Rosie?” Gabby asks.

“Almost. Just one room left. Do we have time, Aunt Charly?”

I check my phone, my mouth full of the delicious pastry. “Yep. Lots of time.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air and runs back out of the kitchen and clomps up the stairs.

“You’re so classy, Char,” Gabby says. “You’ll teach Sam bad manners.”

“Nah,” I reply and grin. “You’ve taught him well.”

“I think you’re rather adorable,” Simon says and kisses me on the nose.

“See?” I smile at Gabby. “I’m adorable.”

“Why don’t you take your adorable self outside and show Simon around? Sam will be done when you get back.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No, I’m trying to save my pastries from you,” she says with a grin.

“I’d love to see more,” Simon replies and takes my hand. “Take me on a tour.”

“Yes, sir.” I lead him out back and we set off down a paved path between more massive oak trees. I take a deep breath and sigh happily. “I love the way it smells out here.”

“The fresh air is nice.”

“So, these small buildings out here were once slave quarters,” I begin and point to the simple wood buildings not far down the path. “Gabby had them moved from out in the fields and renovated so guests could see them. We used to play in them as kids.”

“Are these lists of slaves who lived here?” Simon asks, pointing to a placard in front of the quarters.

“They are. These journals were found in the attic when Gabby dug in to renovate for the inn. My great-great-great grandfather was good at keeping records. These have their name, age, who he bought them from, and for how much.”

“Incredible,” Simon murmurs, reading the pages. “I’m assuming these are copies.”

“Yes. The originals are in a safety deposit box.”

He nods. “It looks like, despite being a slave owner, he was a fair man.”

“From what I understand, ours was not a cruel plantation. The hours were long, and it was hard work, but they were given homes, food, clothes. And they were never separated from their families while they lived here. Meaning, one or two members weren’t sold while the others stayed here.”

“Amazing.”

“As kids, we would play in the slave quarters, but as I got older, and could read well, I found the carvings inside to be fascinating. Of course, we understood what slavery meant, and that it wasn’t something to take lightly, and we didn’t. I just found it interesting.”

“Show me.”

I grin and take his hand, leading him inside. “There are carvings in here, of names and dates. Some couldn’t read or write, but others could.”

“Your history is a rich one,” Simon says and pulls me in for a big hug. “And I don’t mean money.”

“I know,” I reply and bury my face in his chest, breathing him in. He smells even better than the bayou. “There’s more to show you, but Sam is probably ready by now, and we don’t want to be late.”

“Another time then.” He tips my chin up and lays his lips gently on mine, sweeping back and forth, then sinks in and kisses me long and deep. “We’d better go before I take you against the wall here.”

“Another time then,” I reply, echoing his words and grin when lust flashes in his blue eyes. “Come on. We have a date with a gator.”

***

“We haven’t seen any gators yet,” Sam says with a frown as he scours the swamp. “Where are they, mister?”

“We’ll see some,” the guide replies with a wink. He’s an older guy, probably running tours through the swamp in his retirement. His voice is as rough as his skin, but he’s gentle and good with the kids.

“I hope so,” Sam says and glances up at me. “I promised to show you some.”

“Well, we’ve already seen a few snakes,” Simon says, not at all helpfully and grins at me when I wince.

“Thanks for the reminder,” I mumble and glare at the sexy man who simply laughs.

“That was pretty cool,” Sam says. “But I don’t think they were poisonous.”

“Oh darn.”

“Look what I found,” the old guide says as he leans over the side of the boat and pulls up a small gator, making me grab onto Simon. “This little fella is just a baby.”

“Oh God.” I swallow hard as Sam stands up excitedly. “Sam, don’t get too close.”

“You can hold ’em!” Sam says. “Ain’t that right, mister?”

“
Isn’t
that right,” I correct him, still clinging to Simon. “Why did I agree to come again?”

“Because you love him,” Simon says simply and kisses my forehead. “And you’re an excellent aunt.”

“I’m okay,” I reply with a shrug, then cringe again when Sam turns to me. “You can hold him too!”

“Oh, that’s okay.”

But the guide comes at me with the little gator, holding him out to me.

“I’m really fine.”

“Come on, Aunt Charly, you’re not scared of a
baby
.”

“Yeah, Aunt Charly,” Simon says. He loves to tease me. “It’s just a baby.”

“Oh.” I look between all three men, and feel trapped. Sam has such hope in his eyes, I can’t let him down. So, I reach out, and just before the guide puts it in my hands, I squeeze my eyes shut.

Hard.

Suddenly, something scaly and wet is in my hands. It’s lighter than I expected, but I just keep reciting to myself:
I’m not holding a reptile. I’m not holding a reptile.

Almost as soon as it’s in my hands, I say, “Okay, that’s enough. Take it. Take it. Please, for the love of Moses take it.”

To my relief, it’s taken away and placed in Simon’s hands.

“Look how cute it is,” Sam says and pets its little head. “I want one.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the guide says gruffly. “He’ll grow up to look like that.” He points to the side of the boat, and there on the shore, not twenty feet from us, is a gator the size of our boat.

“Holy crap!” Sam exclaims. I’ve lost my voice. I’m pretty sure I’m going to die here in the swamp.

“I don’t think your aunt is as excited,” Simon says with a laugh. “And here you were so outdoorsy in Montana.”

“Montana isn’t a swamp land with snakes and gators and other poisonous things that can kill you.”

“Right.” Simon nods. “It’s just full of bears and mountain lions and rattlesnakes, all of which can kill you.”

“Thanks.” I swallow hard and mentally pray that we make it back to civilization alive.

“Isn’t this
so fun,
Aunt Charly?” Sam asks excitedly as the guide puts the baby back in the water.