Fire Breathing Remy

by Candace Ayers

  Copyright © 2019 by Lovestruck Romance.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This book is intended for adult readers only.

  Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

  Contents

  Story Description

  1. Lennox

  2. Remy

  3. Lennox

  4. Lennox

  5. Remy

  6. Lennox

  7. Lennox

  8. Remy

  9. Remy

  10. Lennox

  11. Remy

  12. Lennox

  13. Lennox

  14. Remy

  15. Lennox

  16. Lennox

  17. Remy

  18. Lennox

  19. Remy

  20. Lennox

  21. Remy

  22. Lennox

  23. Remy

  24. Lennox

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  Fire Breathing Remy

  Dragons of the Bayou 4

  Candace Ayers

  Lovestruck Romance

  It’s the night before Lennox Ledoux’s wedding.

  The most exciting day of her life, right?

  Why is she picturing the steel bars of a cage slamming shut?

  When a huge, red creature crashes to the ground a few feet away, she’s the only witness.

  When it transforms into a hot, naked guy, she’s still the only witness.

  Remy swears he and Lennox belong together.

  And, boy, does she want to believe him.

  But he’s clearly drunk and delusional.

  Besides, she can’t get out of the wedding now.

  Not with guests in town and the entire event paid for.

  Can she?

  1

  Lennox

  Glancing across the table at my fiancé, I pondered, not for the first time, the huge step I was taking. Married. I wouldn’t let myself think of it as a potential mistake, so I’d just taken to calling it a huge step. And huge it was. If I doubted that for a second, I needed only to take a quick peek around the room to clarify everything. The main dining room of La Elizabeth was packed with well-wishers that I barely knew while my close friends were seated along the wall—out on the fringes. If that didn’t speak volumes about the huge step I was taking. Had taken. I’d accepted David’s proposal months prior.

  David smiled, the strain around his eyes barely showing. I doubted it would be obvious to anyone else. To the world, apart from my close friends, David Thibodeaux was the picture of success and prosperity—and wealth. Wealthy beyond imagination, he was the perfect soon-to-be husband.

  He was. Really.

  “Madam Ledoux, would you care for more Cabernet?” A waiter in white gloves, wearing a suit that was probably more expensive than the dress I had on, appeared by my side, his neutral expression a contradiction to the stressed look on David’s face.

  I smiled but shook my head. “May I switch to water?”

  “Oh, Lennox, it’s perfectly acceptable to let loose a bit tonight. It’s the night before your wedding after all.” My mother’s unwelcome commentary from a few seats over intruded on my interlude with the well-dressed waiter. She was leaning toward me, a pointed look on her face. “You’ve decided against a bachelorette soiree, after all. A second glass of wine won’t kill you.”

  Glancing up at the waiter, I gave a slight nod. No use arguing about trivialities. Not with my mother.

  David, wearing his slick but charmingly crooked grin, elbowed me. “Are you sure about that, Lenni? We’re in New Orleans, after all. If there was ever a place for a bachelorette party, this is it.”

  My friends, seated in the corner against the wood-paneled wall of the five-star establishment, were laughing, drinking, and having what looked like an all-around merry old time. When Margo noticed my stare, I had to bite my tongue to keep from giggling as she faked a dramatic gag. “I’m sure. Tomorrow’s a big day. I should get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Well, as for me, I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead.” David elbowed his best buddy, Royce, next to him. “I’m painting the town tonight on my last night of bachelorhood.”

  I was sure he was. David was a big fan of “fun.” My mother in law, whose gaze was set on David with the adoration of a mother who firmly believed the sun rose and set on her only son, hadn’t a clue just how much of a fan of fun he was. Choosing to remain silent, I just smiled at him. He’d settle down eventually, my mother assured me. “Men are just wired that way,” she’d often told me. And she would invariably go on with her defensive rant of David, how men are naturally a little more curious than women, fickler, have wild oats to sow, yada yada yada.

  My mother was an old-school southern belle, with her own value system. I wasn’t exactly sure where it came from, but her excuses for the poor behavior of men—my father included—were never ending. She had as many excuses as she had extra cans of hairspray stored under her bathroom sink for a rainy day. You know, that rainy day when all the hairspray might vanish, raptured up to God himself.

  “Lenni has never been a big partier. She’s always been so demure—a good girl.” My mother, not one to offer compliments, especially to me, was uncharacteristically singing my praises to David’s mother, Eleanor. “She’ll make David the perfect wife.”

  “Yes.” Eleanor’s smile was as fake as the potted greenery on the walls. “And if not, there’s always the prenuptial agreement.”

  My cheeks heated. The table grew quiet, and I felt everyone’s stares on me. It was all I could do not to get up and run to the ladies’ room. I’d already done that as a quickie escape twice in the past hour. Once more and everyone would think I had bladder issues. Or the runs.

  What the hell was I doing? Making a huge mistake?

  Margo was in the corner waving her hand in the air to get my attention. She mouthed the words “are you okay,” and judging by the concerned look in her eyes, she was skeptical of my nod.

  Dad blessedly came to the rescue by changing the subject and breaking the tension. “So, David, how did you select the honeymoon location? The islands of Georgia, didn’t you say?”

  David jumped in enthusiastically with both feet. “Yes, sir. The resort we’ll be staying at is on an exclusive island. It has some of the best golfing this side of the Mason-Dixon. Of course, it’s got shopping for Lenni, too.”

  A honeymoon at a golf course. Just what every girl dreams of. Oh, well, at least my new husband will enjoy himself. I put my fork down and picked up the second glass of Cabernet. Taking a sip, I fought a wince. I hated wine.

  The saxophone player on the small stage at the front of the restaurant put his instrument aside and announced he’d be taking a short break. In the interim, speakers released a light jazz melody.

  “What a wonderful idea, David,” Eleanor patted her son on the arm like he was a pet. “Golfing is a fine form of physical exercise. And how kind of you to consider one with good shopping for your bride. The shops m
ay have some nice things suitable for you, Lennox.”

  Suitable for me. She was making a veiled reference to the extra thirty pounds I carried in the form of jiggly curves. Larger breasts and hips meant that I looked a little rounder and fuller than her upper-crust ladies at the country club found appropriate. Even the baggy cardigan I wore couldn’t hide the fact that I was not a woman prone to liposuction and diet pills.

  “She’s been eating healthier to make sure the dress fits perfectly. I’m certain she’ll keep some of those extra pounds off,” my mother, forever unhelpful, added. “The poor girl was cursed with her grandmother’s figure. Big boned. On Jack’s side, of course. You knew my mother. She was as slender as a rail her whole life.”

  “Shelby was always that.”

  With impeccable timing, dessert was presented, large slices of sumptuous cheesecake drizzled with rich chocolate sauce and a mound of fresh raspberries with a side of beignets—New Orleans fritters—square pillows of dough deep fried and dusted with powdered sugar.

  The smell was divine and almost rivaled by the presentation. My mouth watered, and Mom’s lie about me eating healthier ricocheted around my head. A bead of sweat formed on my temple as I held my fork aloft, my stare boring into the beckoning confection.

  “Lenni?” My mother’s voice held both a clean directive and a stern warning. Put the fork down. Just say no. You’re too big already. Impress your soon-to-be in-laws by showing them you’re at least trying.

  I dropped the fork. “If you’ll please excuse me, I’m going to return this to the kitchen and see if perhaps they might have a healthier substitute.” It was not worth the disapproving glares to contradict my mother, especially in front of my new in-laws, and I had a strong impulse to get away from her, from all of them, if only for a few minutes.

  “Really, Lenni, you’re not a waitress.” David shook his head and laughed as though I was an incorrigible child. “You must learn to let the wait staff do their jobs. You’re soon to be a Thibodeaux, honey.”

  Silently, striving to not draw attention to myself, I stood clutching my dessert plate of decadent perfection. “It’s no big deal. I need to get a quick breath of fresh air, anyway. I think someone might be smoking close by. You know, my asthma.”

  “You have asthma?”

  I was already walking away. No, I didn’t have asthma, but what I did have was a hankering to devour the cheesecake and beignets without starting a third world war. As I passed Margo’s raised brows on the way to the kitchen, I shook my head at her unspoken offer to come along. It was imperative that I was as inconspicuous as possible or my mother would scent me out like a bloodhound.

  Slipping between the swinging double doors that led to the kitchen, I offered an apologetic face as I swiped a fork. The nearest prep cook pointed me to the exit. Ah, sweet escape.

  2

  Remy

  “You’re sure you’re in shape to fly home?” Chyna spoke to me then frowned at Blaise, no doubt communicating her thoughts to him telepathically, if her silent but penetrating expression was any indication. “I’ve never seen one of you dragons so drunk. He’s Cherry-summer-of-2009 wasted.”

  Cherry lifted her head from the couch and glared at her twin. “We agreed never to talk about that.”

  Blaise clapped me on the back. “My brother has always known his limit. Plus, spirits do not affect our kind the way they do humans. We are dragons!”

  I released a fearsome roar. Why did it emerge sounding more like a pathetically whiny whimper? Must be the acoustics in the room. When my head swiveled and the room spun, I worried that I’d imbibed a little more than I realized. Not that it mattered. I was never out of control. Expressing that statement to the room, I stood up. With a minor sway, I bowed gallantly and backed toward the exit.

  “Watch out for the—”

  The backs of my knees hit something and I flew backward. Hard. My large frame contacted the ground with a thud, and my mind reached to assess the situation.

  “Pack-n-Play…” Cherry finished quietly, with a snicker. “Watch out for the Pack-n-Play is what I was trying to say.”

  Cezar stood over me, looking down with a smartass smirk on his face. “Brother, you squished the youngling apparatus.”

  I glanced around and frowned when I saw that I was inside the cage they’d bought for their coming young. “What was that doing behind me?”

  Blaise helped me up, laughing. “Now I am beginning to worry about your flying skills, bro.”

  I sidestepped the crumpled cage and grasped the arm of the sofa to steady myself and prove that it was the cage’s fault, not mine. I was fine. “I will be making my exit now.”

  A chorus of goodbyes followed us as Cherry walked me to the door. “You’re welcome to stay the night in the guest room, Remy.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Be careful, okay?” Her expression, a mixture of concern and pity, prompted me to weave my way out the door and down the dock faster.

  A minor misstep landed me with a splash in the water off Cezar’s dock. I emerged from the murky depths with an ungraceful sputtering cough and shifted right then and there to avoid any more concerned looks from Cherry, or offers to remain among the mated crowd. Chyna had also pulled me aside earlier in the night to whisper encouragement as she knew how it was to be the single twin of a newly mated sibling.

  I shot into the night sky too fast and too high and did a few unintentional acrobatic maneuvers before I was able to balance myself. Steadying my dragon, who was just as forlorn as I was, proved challenging. Still, I managed to pilot myself in the general direction of home.

  The evening had been punishing. We dragons tended to be solitary for the most part, but humans, on the other hand, not so. Cherry, Chyna, and Sky loved to host gatherings for no good reason at all. Fine. But Chyna and Blaise continually nagged me to attend their get-togethers, as they called them. I was happy for my brother and my friends. They’d found their mates and were living life to the fullest. The three of them, Blaise, Cezar, and Beast, were happier than I’d ever seen them. Even Cezar, whose pregnant mate was uncomfortable and as prickly as a cactus lately, strutted around grinning from ear to ear. My formerly dark, brooding brother had grown so exuberant he resembled a clown with his broad grin.

  It wasn’t easy being one of the unmated loser dragons, and it was especially difficult to be the only loser in attendance at the mated-crowd get-togethers. Three of us were left, as yet unmated, to worry about the upcoming eclipse. Without a mate, we would slowly go insane and would need to be put down for our own good and the safety of the world at large.

  Neither the eclipse nor the looming threat of impending insanity was the source of my distress. It was watching Blaise with Chyna… I wanted that. A mate. To grin so big I looked like a clown. To have a female to make love to and hold in my arms all night long. That was the craving, the longing, and the hopelessness that was causing my anguish.

  Yet, I still showed, the only mateless dragon at the party. Alone and lonely. Alone and bitter. Alone and intoxicated.

  I was, without a doubt, inebriated and not exactly sure where I was. Headed in the direction of my castle, maybe. Nothing looked familiar. Possibly because there was two of everything. Doubles of every unfamiliar tree, unknown swamp, peculiar marsh, foreign road, and strange building.

  Flying a little lower, I closed one eye. Surely, something would come into focus eventually. I only realized how high I’d been flying when I broke through the cloud cover and found myself on the edge of a city. Bright lights lit up like the humans’ Christmas trees. Swirling, glowing, colorful—so pretty.

  There were jazz melodies floating on air and spicy aromas of jambalaya and seafood gumbo. And, under the tantalizing scents and sounds, something else—something arousing—tickled the edges of my consciousness, luring me. I flew toward the enticements, hoping for maybe a big pot of Louisiana culinary specialties.

  I hadn’t noticed the brick wall until my head informed me of its
presence by connecting with it. My balance faltered and everything blurred for a minute. Before I could right myself, I fell to the ground, dead weight. Thud. The clumsiest landing in history.

  Lying there, groaning as the aches started, I evaluated the situation. How had I gotten so lost? Not sure. Had I just revealed the existence of my kind to a bunch of humans who couldn’t keep secrets? Not sure. Was I dead, injured, or in an unconscious dream state? Not sure about that either.

  Rolling over caused a growl to escape me. The ground hurt. Almost as much as the wall. I was a dragon, though. I was fine. Plus, that tickling, arousing sensation was still hanging around. Not the food. No, this had my dragon’s scales up. It was slightly reminiscent of the sweet flowers that my mother had grown all those centuries ago. That’s what I was smelling. Incomparable and delicate, the particular flower had been exceedingly rare.

  How could it be here, in the new world?

  3

  Lennox

  I was minding my own business, leaning against the brick wall behind La Elizabeth, blissfully devouring my cheesecake with chocolate and raspberries and beignets, when a giant…thing…fell from the sky. I stood frozen for a while, waiting on someone else to check it out. I had no business snooping behind the row of hedges to my right. I had no business investigating what had fallen from the sky with a god-awful thud. I had no business trying to catch a glimpse of what was now over there grunting and groaning.