The concern in Lawrence’s voice is genuine. I feel terrible for deceiving her.
Porter comes to full attention, looking at me and then back at Lawrence. “It’s Raleigh, one of our frat brothers. The poor guy is not coping well with his wife’s infidelity. Oliver was worried about his well-being so he drove up to check on him.”
Good job, Porter. Good job.
“I guess he understands more than anyone what his friend is going through because of what Eden did to him. Damn, that woman did a number on my brother.”
Lawrence doesn’t know the half of it. The effects of that betrayal sent Oliver into a three-month party spiral, which I blame for the DUI. He would never have done anything like that prior to his breakup with Eden.
Porter chuckles. “Want to hear something funny? Eden’s cousin drives one of our delivery trucks. I saw him earlier this week and he told me the man she was cheating with has already left her for someone else.”
Lawrence nods. “I bet she’s seeing how good she had it with my brother. He treated her well and I’m worried she’ll try to weasel her way back into his life.”
“Don’t worry, Law. Oliver won’t have her back. Not after walking in on her with another man.”
“I hope you’re right, Porter.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope. Free as a bird.”
“It would be hard for me to picture you any other way.” Porter glances at his watch. “It’s almost three. I’ve gotta run but we have to get together later. It’s been too long since we’ve caught up.”
I’ll be the odd man out if he asks her to dinner. I’m certain he won’t invite me to join them. “Let’s all have dinner together tonight.”
Porter frowns. “I can’t tonight. I’ve already made plans with Perry from Yankee Brewery.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping we could catch up before I go home.”
“When are you leaving?”
Lawrence looks at me and grins. “I’m staying until Monday morning.”
Well, well, well. That decision happened without a lot of persuading.
Porter kisses the side of Lawrence’s face. Just a quick, friendly peck. “We’ll definitely get together before you go.”
I’m surprised Porter didn’t jump at the chance to spend time with Lawrence. I was under the impression that he might have a thing for her. Was I wrong?
Lawrence’s smile curls but the corners are pinched. “These festivals are all about getting together with potential clients and schmoozing them, so how is it possible that you don’t have dinner plans?”
“Who says I don’t have plans?”
“Please don’t tell me that you’re canceling on someone to keep me company.”
“Okay. I won’t tell you.”
She inhales deeply and loudly exhales. “That makes me feel terrible. I can’t let you ditch clients to have dinner with me.”
“It’s a group thing with some other breweries. No big deal. I see them all the time so they won’t miss me. Promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Thank you. You’re very sweet.”
Sweet. That’s what Bridgette says that I am. But I’m not so sure.
“Would you care for another beer?”
She shakes her head. “Not right now. Maybe later.”
I don’t want to leave her here alone again but this festival is business for me. I have a job to do. “I need to walk around and show my face since Iron City is hosting this event.”
She nods and flicks her hand toward the crowd. “Oh yeah. Of course, you do.”
“It’s going to be hot and miserable and probably boring as hell, but would you care to walk with me while I make the rounds speaking to everyone?”
Beads of sweat rest on her forehead and upper lip. Her sunglasses have slowly slid down her nose, and I’m so close to seeing the eyes hiding behind them.
Are they blue? Green? Brown? Hazel? I’m dying to know.
“You don’t need me in tow slowing you down. I’ll be fine right here. Go be a host to your people.”
I have sixteen booths to visit. People are going to expect me to hang around and talk. “I could be gone a while.”
“If you are, then it means that you’re doing your job well.”
“I hate the thought of you sitting here alone.”
“It’s fine. I’ll grab another beer and people watch. I love doing that and there’ll be some good entertainment to come along in a minute. After all, this is a beer festival. Someone is bound to act like a fool soon.”
Lawrence with her messy bun on top of her head, her long hippie-looking skirt, and her shredded Iron City T-shirt, she’s easygoing, comical, and so very different from the women I’ve been with lately.
“Okay. Do your people-watching thing and I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”
She props her feet on the adjacent chair. “No hurry. Take your time. It’s all cool here.”
I’m tied up much longer than planned. Almost two hours. Lawrence has to be tired of sitting around waiting for me.
Rounding the corner, I see that she’s gone from where I left her. Shit. I hope she hasn’t changed her mind and taken off on me.
I scan the crowd in search of a blond topknot. I see plenty but none of them belong to her. My eyes seek her red sliced-and-diced Iron City T-shirt, but it isn’t anywhere to be seen. She’s gone.
“That’s some serious searching you’re doing there, Captain. Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find them.”
Lawrence is standing next to me, pretending to look through the crowd with a pair of imaginary binoculars.
“I appreciate the offer but I think I may have found her.”
“Good.” She pretends to toss something over her shoulder. “Because I can’t see shit through these binoculars.”
“I’m sorry that took so long. Thank you for not leaving.”
“It’s fine, Lucas. I’m aware that this festival is about gaining new clients for Iron City. I expected you to be tied up for a while.”
Most women would be perturbed for being left alone for so long. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You’ll find that my feathers aren’t easily ruffled.”
“I was planning to take you to an early dinner after I finished rounds, but I ran into a young lady who is insisting that I meet up with her and share an order of fried Oreos at one of the food trucks.”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tilts her head. “Well, I don’t think it’s possible to pass on this young lady if there are going to be fried Oreos involved.
“It’s okay.” She smiles and shrugs. “We can meet up later. Or I can take a rain check if you’d like to have dinner with her instead.”
“I want to have dinner with her, but I’d also love for you to join us.”
She parts her mouth as though she’s going to say something but then stops.
“You can come and enjoy some fried Oreos with us.”
“I appreciate your offer to entertain me while my brother’s away, but I’d prefer to not be a third wheel on your date.”
She seriously thinks that I’d ask her to dinner and then drop her for another woman?
“Trust me. You won’t be a third wheel.”
“You don’t think she’ll mind?”
“No, she’s not like that at all.”
Lawrence sighs. “Okay. But I’m out of there if she seems the least bit pissed or irritated about me being around. I don’t do lady drama.”
Good. That’s another thing we have in common.
“Understood.”
Lawrence doesn’t have a lot to say on the walk to the food vendor area. I can tell she isn’t excited about this at all, but she’ll change her mind soon enough.
“Uncle Bou,” Aubrey yells as she runs into my arms. I don’t think this child’s feet ever touch the ground in my presence. “Where you been?”
Patience is
n’t one of Aubrey’s strong suits. “Someone’s excited for fried Oreos?”
Her little head bobs up and down. “Mm-hmm.”
“Can you forgive me for being late, my love? I had to find my friend.”
She nods. “It’s okay.”
I twist so Aubrey can see Lawrence. “This is my friend, Lawrence.”
Aubrey places her head on my shoulder, suddenly bashful, which I’ve never known her to be. “This shy little thing is Aubrey.”
Lawrence removes her sunglasses, placing them on top of her head, and I finally get to see her eyes. Light blue surrounded by long lashes. Stunning.
She rubs her hand up and down Aubrey’s arm. “You are precious. Very nice to meet you, Aubrey.”
“I’m Bridgette and this is my husband, Warren.”
And here comes the awkward moment where people put everything together. My ex-wife, the cheater. Her husband, my best friend with whom she cheated. Their child, the product of their union.
No one understands the dynamics of our relationship. These are my buddies and I don’t hold any kind of grudge against them because they fell in love with each other.
I love them and their child—soon to be children. I always will.
“Nice to meet both of you.”
If Lawrence puts together who Bridgette and Warren are, she never lets on by her reaction.
“Lawrence is Oliver’s sister. She came to town to surprise him but he left before she got here.”
“Ah, that’s too bad. I know he must be disappointed he missed you. Do you live far away?”
“Savannah, Georgia.”
“That’s about a six-hour drive?” Warren asks.
“Yes. A very long six-hour drive when you’re traveling by yourself.”
“The upside is the beer festival. Otherwise, I would imagine you’d have been forced to turn around and go home,” Warren says.
“Exactly.”
Aubrey pats her palm against my chest. “Uncle Bou. Can we get cookies now?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” I look at Bridgette. “Does the other munchkin want some?”
She rests her hand on top of her swollen abdomen. “I probably shouldn’t but come on. We’re talking about fried Oreos. I don’t know any pregnant woman who could say no to that.”
I look at Lawrence. “You wanna give ‘em a try?”
She scrunches her nose. “None for me, but thanks.”
“Seriously?” Bridgette says.
“I only eat all-natural, vegan organic foods unless I don’t have a choice.”
I’m not at all surprised. Her diet completely fits her hippie lifestyle.
“I’m sorry. I probably should have told you that when you asked me to dinner.”
Bridgette straightens and looks at me, grinning. “Oh, you’re having dinner together? That’s nice.”
I run through the list of food vendors in my head. Finch is a local organic farmer. “I have an option for you when you’re ready—if you don’t mind eating at the festival.”
“I didn’t expect to not eat here.”
“Are you hungry now?”
“I am. I haven’t had anything but beer since breakfast.”
I turn to Warren and Bridgette. “What about you guys?”
“We’ve been here all day so we’re ready to go, but we’ve got to get these cookies for the princess before she has a fit.” Warren lowers his voice, “We’ve been putting her off all day, hoping she’d forget about them.”
Bridgette glares at me. “And we’d done a right nice job until you came along and brought them up again.”
I tickle Aubrey beneath her chin. “Dessert before dinner. That’s how we roll, isn’t it, Bebelle?”
“Bebelle?” Lawrence asks.
“It’s Cajun French. It means doll.” And that’s what this little girl is to me. My doll.
Aubrey cackles. “Yes, Uncle Bou. Cookies.”
Bridgette rolls her eyes. “She’s rotten thanks to Boudreaux here.”
I tilt my head toward Bridgette. “And your p’tit boug will be, too.” But he won’t be sweet and delicate like Aubrey. I’ll make him rough and tough like a real Cajun.
Bridgette shakes her head. “Did you hear that? Boudreaux’s planning to ruin my baby boy as well.”
“It’s true. Aubrey knows that I can’t tell her no.”
“And she enjoys every moment of it,” Warren says.
I lift my shoulders in a slight shrug. “What can I say? I spoil my Bebelle and she loves it.”
Aubrey pushes her finger through the powdered sugar littering our table, drawing pictures. The mess reminds me of Café du Monde minus the pigeons.
“Don’t do that, Aubrey.”
Bridgette fetches a wet wipe from her bag and cleans her daughter’s hands. Always sanitizing her. Bridgette better get ready because this new baby boy won’t go for all of that.
“What do you think of the cookies, Bebelle?”
“Mmm. Yum… mee.” She smiles and black cookie remnants decorate her mouth and teeth.
I burst out laughing. “You have to get a picture of that, Bridg.”
“Oh good Lord.” Bridgette fetches her phone from her bag. “Smile for Mama.”
I push the plate toward Aubrey. “One left. All yours if you want it.”
Aubrey picks up the last cookie and holds it out to Lawrence. “Want it, Wren?”
“What a sweet girl you are. Thank you, but the last one should be for you.”
“I’m full,” Aubrey says. She holds it out to me next. “Uncle Bou?”
I lean forward and open my mouth so Aubrey can feed me. Not bad. But I guess anything tastes good deep-fried and covered in powdered sugar.
“Like it?” Aubrey asks.
I gobble at her fingers and Aubrey bursts into laughter. “Cookie monster like. He may eat fingers too.”
Bridgette gathers the plate and wipes down the table. “You ready to go, Warren?”
“Whenever you are, baby.”
Bridge lifts a foot and extends it. “I think I need to get home so I can elevate these. They feel like they’re twice their normal size.”
Swelling to the face and hands. Headaches. Blurred Vision.
All of those things were symptoms that happened prior to the seizure Bridgette had the day she gave birth to our son. We were too young and stupid to know something was seriously wrong. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought she was dying.
“None of the other problems are happening?” I don’t have to go into details about what I mean. Bridgette knows.
“Not a one. I’m fine.”
Warren grasps my shoulder and squeezes. “The doctor told us a little swelling was normal but said she should elevate her feet when it happens. We’re watching everything carefully.”
Warren has only seen Bridgette carry a perfect child full-term during an uncomplicated pregnancy. He wouldn’t be so at ease if he’d seen the things I had.
She comes over and wraps her arms around me. “My feet will go up the minute I get home. I’ll notify the doctor immediately if I have any problems or feel like something’s not right.”
“I know you’re cautious. I just—”
She grabs the sides of my face. “You worry too much. And you definitely enjoy being a pain in my ass too often, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Bridgette moves on to Lawrence, embracing her. It’s her way. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“The pleasure was all mine. Early congratulations on your upcoming arrival.”
“Thank you.”
I lift Aubrey into my arms and squeeze her lightly while rubbing my beard against her face. “Love you, Bebelle. Be a sweet girl for Mama.”
As per usual, she strokes my beard with the palm of her hand as we say goodbye. “Love you, Uncle Bou.”
When Aubrey finishes with me, she skips over to Lawrence and throws herself into her arms, all her precious bashfulness gone.
“Bye, Wren.”
“I very much enjoyed meeting you, little missy. I know you’re going to make an excellent big sister when your baby brother arrives.”
“Best ever.”
I look at Lawrence when Bridgette, Warren, and Aubrey are gone. Her elbow is propped on the table, her head tilted so her hand can fidget with the knot on top of her head. Her eyes are wide and intently focused on me.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Enlighten me. I’d love to know what you believe is in my head right now.”
“You’re trying to make sense of what you just saw.”
“Maybe.”
Maybe, my ass. “You wouldn’t be the first person to be confused by us.”
“No one understands your relationship, and you’re okay with that. I get it and I think it’s great.”
I can’t recall ever hearing that kind of response from anyone. I almost think she’s fucking with me. “Really?”
“Yeah. The dynamics of your relationship are fascinating.”
“Fascinating? I guess. Hard as hell? Definitely.”
People love to judge. Many haven’t been kind to Bridgette, and I could never sit back and allow anyone to hurt my best friend.
“I would love to hear more but what do you say we grab some dinner first? I’m starving.”
“I could go for some food.”
This girl is way more than I expected. I definitely want some more time with her.
6
Lawrence Thorn
Lucas Broussard, the world’s most interesting man, just became a little more intriguing. I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that my brother’s business partner was so enchanting.
I’ve never been married so I don’t understand the firsthand dynamics between a husband and wife. I also don’t comprehend the relationship between a divorced couple, but I don’t think I have to in order to see that Lucas and Bridgette are the exception to every rule.
He is incredibly kind to his ex-wife and his best friend who married her. After having only spent a short amount of time with them, I can see that he truly loves them both and their daughter. And their son, who will be arriving in a couple of months from the looks of things. I can’t help but wonder what drives this man to be that way?
Bohemian Girl (Southern Girl Series Book 1) Page 5