Bohemian Girl (Southern Girl Series Book 1)

by Georgia Cates

  “I suspect not. There was a huge crowd yesterday. The boys hated that you missed it, especially after how hard you’d worked to prepare the event.” He would have been so proud.

  “No one hated that I was missing it more than I did.”

  “Lucas landed four big accounts yesterday.”

  “He did, huh? What about Porter?”

  “I’m not sure about him.”

  “I’m a little concerned about those texts you sent about Lucas.”

  “Concerned how?”

  “You told me that you liked him. You wanted him to kiss you.”

  “I’d had a few drinks when I sent those texts. Oops. Party foul.”

  “Lucas is a good friend, but he isn’t a one-woman kind of man. He isn’t for you.”

  Yeah, you said that already. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I’m not interested in Lucas.”

  “You’ll find that special person for you one day.”

  I’m so damn tired of hearing that. Where is he? I’m tired of looking.

  Lucas, Porter, and the Iron City gang are already at the booth when we arrive, but the first thing Oliver does is stop and survey the booth. “This looks great, guys. The graphics are perfect. Exactly what I had in mind.”

  It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and while the boys are busy talking shop, I take the opportunity to walk the grounds. I find an empty bench in the shade beneath a tree and decide to people watch. I love doing that because you can figure out so much by seeing what people do when they think no one is paying attention.

  A woman speaking sweetly to the dog she’s walking. Animal lover. She has a kind heart.

  A man jogging shirtless. He thinks he’s hot shit. And he sort of is. He wants people to notice him. And I do.

  A mother pushing a crying baby in a stroller. She’s looking at her phone, not her screaming child. She doesn’t even give the kid a glance. Distracted. And probably a little neglectful.

  A handsome man with facial scruff sitting on a park bench across from me looking at his phone.

  The ping on my phone alerts me to a new text.

  Lucas: People-watching again?

  Lawrence: I am.

  Lucas: I’m dying to touch you again. I wasn’t even close to being finished with you.

  My insides do a backflip.

  I glance up at Lucas and he’s looking at his phone. He’s purposely ignoring me now, pretending that I’m not sitting on the bench across from him.

  Lawrence: No chance of that until my brother’s gone. He’s on high alert.

  Lucas: I suspected. Did he slam me much?

  Lawrence: He may have reinforced his warning where you’re concerned.

  Lucas: Sounds about right. I hope he wasn’t too convincing.

  Lawrence: Not even a little. I can’t wait for you to touch me again.

  Lucas: I have to go b/c I’m speaking in fifteen minutes. TTYL.

  Lawrence: OK.

  My eyes follow Lucas as he walks away, and damn, his ass looks great in those jeans. I can’t wait to see him out of them again. And next time, I’ll get a better look.

  I’ve spent the day hanging with Ollie, watching him do his thing. He’s good at what he does. I’m proud of my little brother for achieving his dreams.

  “It’s time for me to get on the road.”

  It seems like Ollie just got here. “Are you sure you can’t stay the night and go back tomorrow?”

  “Wish I could. I’d love to spend more time together, but maybe I can make it over to Savannah in a few weeks.”

  Or maybe I can come back to Birmingham? I wouldn’t mind seeing Lucas again.

  “I’d love that.”

  “Do you want to hang out at the festival for a little longer or do you want to go back to my apartment?”

  “The festival has been fun but I’m just about festival-ed out after two days of it. But I need to say goodbye to everyone since I won’t be seeing them again before I go home.”

  The goodbye display between Lucas and me is almost comical. I wonder if everyone believes our act or do they see straight through the façade?

  My Wagoneer is blistering hot after sitting in the scorching sun for two days. I lower the windows, crank the air up, and position the vents so they’re hitting me in the face. I’ll definitely need a shower before Lucas comes over so I don’t smell like sweaty asscrack.

  Lucas: Still planning to see me tonight?

  Lawrence: Absolutely. What time?

  Lucas: Everything’s over at 8 but I have cleanup, etc. Hope to be out by 9. Ten at the latest.

  Lawrence: Looking forward to it. I’ll be waiting.

  Oliver is packed and ready to go. “I’m going to miss you, little brother.”

  “Not for long. Time will fly, and I’ll be in Savannah before you know it.”

  “I look forward to it. And Mom and Dad will be so happy to have you home.”

  I hug him one last time. “I hope Raleigh is okay.”

  “Me too.” He kisses the side of my face. “Drive safe on the way home.”

  “Always do.”

  Ollie leaves and I begin to prepare for my upcoming rendezvous. Nine o’clock comes and goes. Ten is approaching and I know Lucas will be here soon. I’m both eager and nervous.

  Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex.

  I’m showered, shaved, and sitting on the couch fantasizing about all the things Lucas is going to do to me when a knock on the front door interrupts my thoughts.

  “Coming.” Yes. I hope to be doing that very soon.

  Opening the door, I find a damp-haired Lucas on the other side. And, fuck, is he ever sexy.

  “Looks like someone just showered.” I guess that explains why it’s after ten and he’s just now showing up.

  Opening the door wider, he comes into the apartment. “Sorry I’m running late but I couldn’t come as I was.”

  “It’s okay.”

  The door closes and he pulls me into his arms, his mouth going straight for my neck. Man, he’s just out of the gate and is going straight for it. I had hoped for a little foreplay but I guess this works too.

  “Mmm… lavender and vanilla. I love the way you smell.”

  I was wrong. He isn’t skipping foreplay. He’s sniffing me.

  “I’m pretty fond of the way you smell as well.”

  The tip of his nose glides up the side of my neck. “I was wondering how you’d feel about going to my house instead of staying here?”

  I hadn’t given it any thought but the idea makes sense. And I’d get to see where and how Lucas lives. “I would love to go to your house.”

  “Do you need a minute to pack your things?”

  “I’m mostly packed already. It won’t take me but a minute to grab the rest of my things.”

  I take a step toward the guest room, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into his arms. “I can’t wait. I need to do this first.”

  His hands are on my lower back pulling me against him, his mouth possessing mine with eager lips and tongue. Mmm… he tastes like mint.

  He lightly sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

  “I had a very similar feeling.”

  His hands are all over me. Touching. Squeezing. Rubbing. “I could hardly work for thinking about you.”

  “I’m not sure we’re going to make it to your house if we keep this up.”

  He grasps my ass and hauls me against him. Warm breath hits my skin when he growls against my neck, “Go. And hurry. I need you and I don’t want to have to wait a minute longer than necessary.”

  I sprint up the stairs. Makeup. Hair dryer. Clothing. It all goes into my bag without any regard for organization. No time for that.

  I barrel down the stairs with my bags. “I’m ready.”

  “Do you want to follow me in your car or ride with me?”

  It seems silly to not drive mine. “I’ll take my car so you don’t have to bring me back to the apartment i
n the morning.”

  “You sound confident that you’ll be leaving early.”

  And he sounds confident that I won’t. “It’s a six-hour drive and I’d like to get an early start.”

  “You may find that spending the morning with me trumps getting an early start.”

  “Tomorrow’s Monday. Won’t you have to go to work in the morning?”

  “I’m taking off because of the long weekend at the festival. That means you can stay as long as you like.”

  I really need to get back to check in with Winter. “We’ll see.”

  We enter his house through the garage and I quickly learn something about Lucas Broussard. He’s no slob. Everything I see is organized and in its place. “You’re neat.”

  “Is there any other way to be?”

  “Yes, according to some people.” He didn’t see Ollie’s apartment before I cleaned it. It was a damn disaster.

  “You seem like one who would like things in order.”

  “I do, which is completely out of character for someone like me.”

  Free spirits typically don’t become disturbed by something as trivial as disorganization. But I’m twitchy right now because my bag is a disaster.

  He reaches for my duffel. “Have a seat and I’ll put this in my bedroom.”

  I don’t sit. Instead, I circle the living room. Wood-planked flooring. Brown leather sofa. Rich caramel walls. His living room is warm and masculine. I don’t see a woman’s touch anywhere except for the frames holding Aubrey’s pictures. And they’re everywhere. I’m guessing Bridgette makes a habit of giving him framed photos. I highly doubt that he chose these.

  I’m holding a picture of Aubrey in a long, flowing white dress when Lucas comes into the living room. “She’s a beautiful child, isn’t she?”

  I return the photo to the shelf. Not a bit of dust. “Yes. And it’s clear to see how much she adores her Uncle Bou.”

  “It’s actually Uncle Boudreaux but she shortened it. Bridge nicknamed me Boudreaux right after I moved here. No one called me Lucas in high school. I was known as Boudreaux Broussard.”

  “Boudreaux Broussard. That’s a tongue twister.”

  “I guess it is.” He walks toward the kitchen. “Do you want a beer?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take one.”

  He returns with an unlabeled bottle. “I have a new brew Oliver and Porter are working on. It’s not quite there yet but it’s pretty damn good. Wanna try it?”

  “Hell yeah.” I love being privy to new products. I get to rub that in Ivy’s and Kelsey’s faces.

  Lucas places a glass on the coffee table and pours the hazy orange liquid into the glass. I’m surprised by the color. Doesn’t look like anything they’ve done before.

  “Has good head, eh?”

  He’s not going to let me live that one down.

  “Yes, it does. What is it?”

  “Organic apricot ale.”

  I bring it to my nose. “Mmm… that smells good.”

  “We want to try appealing to more female consumers. Fruity beers seem to be the way.”

  I would agree with that. “I’m always drawn to a fruity option.”

  I take a drink once the foam settles. “Rich. Full-bodied. Sweet with a hint of tartness. This is a beer I’d take to the beach.”

  He snaps his fingers. “Yes. We’re shooting for this to be our first summer seasonal.”

  “Great choice. How’s the pumpkin ale coming?” Seasonals are always great.

  “Oliver and Porter knocked it out of the park. The first batch rolls out of the brewery in eight weeks.” He lifts his glass of ale. “We’d love to see this one go out in March.”

  “It’s delicious. I’m sure it’ll be a huge success.”

  “Did you know you’re the reason Oliver works so hard to grow the organic line?”

  His words tug at my heartstrings. “I had no idea.”

  I take another drink, savoring the flavor and the knowledge that Lucas has just given me.

  “What made you decide to show up and surprise Oliver this weekend?”

  “There’s more than one reason, but it was mostly because I’ve been worried about his recent behavior.” Although I must say that he seemed like the old Ollie today.

  “What kind of change have you seen in him?”

  “He didn’t seem to be himself the last couple of weeks. I was tired of him ignoring my texts, so I came to set my little brother’s ass straight.”

  Lucas smiles around the rim of his glass. “You said there was more than one reason?”

  “I had something important to tell him, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.”

  “Sounds intense.”

  Intense doesn’t really cover it. “It is.”

  I’d love someone else’s take on the kidney donation thing. I barely know Lucas so I might have a chance of getting an unbiased opinion from him. “Did you know that Ollie and I were adopted?”

  “I’d heard that.”

  “We were taken away from our biological parents. They were heroin junkies. The neglect was awful but our mother wasn’t just an addict. She was cruel, and we were her favorite victims because we were helpless to fight back.”

  To this day, I don’t understand why she enjoyed mistreating us. But it sparked something in me. An intense desire—maybe even a need—to unconditionally love my own children.

  Lucas puts his hand on my leg and squeezes. “I’m sorry that you went through that.”

  “We were placed with wonderful foster parents who later adopted us. The rest of our childhood was terrific so our story has a happy ending.”

  “I know your parents well. They’re wonderful people. Libby has been after me for years to come visit them in Savannah.”

  Well damn. I hadn’t considered the possibility that Lucas would know Mom and Dad. But that makes sense. They visit Ollie in Birmingham on a regular basis.

  Lucas’s eyes widen. “Nothing’s wrong with them, I hope.”

  “No, not with them. They’re well and globetrotting in Scotland as we speak. Our birth mother is the one who’s ill.”

  “You have contact with the woman who abused you?”

  “Not by choice. She found Ollie and me several years ago. She claimed she was clean and wanted to apologize for the things she’d done. Said she needed to right her wrongs against us. And she did at first but then it turned into her asking for a little money to get by because she couldn’t make rent. Within a few months, her hand was out every time she came around. Last week she told me she was in end-stage renal disease and needs a kidney. If we don’t give her one, she’s going to die.”

  Lucas rubs my leg. “Fuck. That’s a terrible guilt trip to put on anyone but especially your children.”

  “There’s no guilt trip where Ollie’s concerned. He was very clear about not giving her one of his.”

  “But you’re considering it?”

  I live by the law of attraction. Helping her is positive but I have reservations. “I don’t know. The thought of giving someone an organ I could need later down the road is scary as hell. Is that selfish?”

  “No. It’s a very legitimate concern, especially considering her past. This woman hurt you and I think you’re a saint for even considering it.”

  “Despite every neglectful and cruel thing Christie did to us, she’s a human being. How do I live with myself if I stand by and let her die when I could potentially save her?”

  “Do you know if you’re a match?”

  “Our blood types are compatible. I’m her child so genetically I’m a fifty percent match, which is acceptable. I’d need to go through the tissue typing and crossmatch testing so our compatibility could be confirmed. After that, I would need a physical to see if I’m healthy enough to donate.”

  “Is she clean and sober? Does she follow doctors’ orders?”

  “She’s been a noncompliant diabetic in the past, but I don’t think any doctor would consider the transplant if she weren’t curren
tly doing as she should.”

  “Do you want children?”

  There’s no doubt in my mind. “Yes.”

  “Have you considered how donating your kidney might impact your ability to have a family?”

  Of course Lucas’s mind would go there given what he went through with Eli. I can’t believe I didn’t even consider that, especially when having a child is so important to me. “I’ve been so busy going back and forth about it I haven’t given that possibility any thought.”

  “People survive with one kidney all the time but it seems like that could cause problems in a pregnancy. So many things can go wrong even under the best conditions. I think she’s asking you to put your future family at risk by doing this.”

  “That’s an entirely new way of looking at it.”

  “You wanted my opinion and there it is.”

  “You raise some valid points.” Not only is Lucas sexy, he’s also mature and intelligent and wise. I’m glad we had this conversation.

  “Don’t ever feel guilty for putting you and your future family ahead of this woman.”

  I’m glad I talked to Lucas about this. His objective opinion makes me feel like it’s okay if I don’t go through with the donation. I needed to hear that from someone who didn’t have a place within my inner circle.

  “Thank you for listening.” Most guys would have lost interest within the first two minutes.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been worried about Oliver. And I hate that you’ve been putting yourself through hell over this decision regarding your birth mother. But I’m not a bit sorry that those things brought you to Birmingham.”

  “Me either.”

  He takes my glass from my hand and places it on the coffee table before sliding closer. His hand cups the side of my face and then glides around to the back of my neck. “Your hair is beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  He pushes all of my hair over one shoulder and drags his nose up the side of my exposed neck. “You smell so good. It’s driving me insane.”

  He presses a kiss below my earlobe and chills erupt down the left side of my body. He’s making a habit of this. And I’m okay with it. “We’re even because that drives me crazy.”