Crazy Rich Cajuns
Page 2
“You hit me in the nose on purpose?” Owen asked.
“I was aiming for your crotch,” Kennedy told him. “Guess I hit the bigger thing.”
Bennett could picture her smirk and felt the familiar urge to kiss it right off of her, even though he wasn’t there in person.
Yeah, he wanted to get involved with her. He couldn’t explain it except to say that his family had been very…un-Landry-like. Maybe it was his Cajun roots, something in his genes or his blood, that drew him to the bayou and the craziness of this family.
“You weren’t spanked enough as a child,” Owen told Kennedy.
“You’re probably right.”
Bennett could also picture the way she lifted one shoulder in an adorable and infuriating so-what gesture.
“There’s still hope she can find the right guy to do it,” Leo piped up.
Owen snorted, Tori laughed, and Bennett scowled. Hard.
They were joking. Giving each other shit was how the Landrys showed love. Well, that and food. But there was no way anyone in this family would stand for a guy laying a hand on Kennedy.
Hell, none of them actually believed that the right guy even existed who could spank Kennedy Landry.
But even the thought of it really pissed Bennett off. Which made no sense.
Kennedy definitely hadn’t been told no enough. She was absolutely a handful. She was…Leo’s granddaughter who he loved dearly and he’d never want someone touching her inappropriately. Not that spanking was always inappropriate, of course. Between consenting adults who were into that kind of thing it could be very appropriate. But this all insinuated that they thought Kennedy needed someone—or that someone had missed their chance in the past—to intervene to change her behavior. That there was something they wished was different about her.
That was not okay with Bennett.
And he needed to cool the fuck down.
It was a joke. He knew that. Kennedy knew that.
Him getting worked up on her behalf over something that wasn’t even serious was ridiculous.
“Yeah, maybe, but if it’s discipline, I don’t think the person you’re spanking is supposed to like it,” Kennedy said, in her typical smart-ass, you’ll-never-make-me-blush way.
Bennett usually grinned at that attitude of hers. Not now. For a new reason. This all insinuated that some other guy had spanked her and everything in Bennett rebelled at that thought as well.
He definitely needed to cool down.
Instead, he sent a quick message to his assistant that he was heading to Autre in an hour. Getting to Autre would typically mean flying from Savannah to New Orleans. That trip on a commercial airline could take four or five hours with a layover in North Carolina, but thanks to his family’s private plane and a small airstrip outside of Autre, Bennett had been making the trip much faster and more easily over the past couple of months since becoming an owner in the tour company.
Today would be even easier. He’d been working in New Orleans on and off for the past month, hoping to transition his work from Georgia to Louisiana permanently. He was only about twenty minutes away from Autre at the moment.
“You’re a brat,” Owen told Kennedy.
“Wow, news flash,” Kennedy replied.
“Okay, so I’m going to go,” Bailey said. “Um…just…yeah, so you’ve got your warning. And stuff.”
She definitely didn’t sound like any kind of badass officer of the law, and Bennett relaxed a little about her pursuing the wolf thing. Hell, she might not want to come back to Autre at all. Chase Dawson wasn’t even here anymore, and even if he was, he might not be charming enough to make it worth putting up with all of this crazy.
Of course, that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t send someone else.
Dammit.
As soon as he heard the door shut on the other end of the line, Bennett said, “Kennedy.”
“Yeah.”
He could tell she’d picked the phone up and taken it off of speaker.
“Have you been spanked before?”
Okay, that was not what he’d intended to say first. Or maybe at all.
She clearly hadn’t been expecting it, either. It took her a moment to reply.
“You’d have to catch me first, Baxter,” she said.
That would not be a problem. “That’s not what I asked you.”
“One time, Bennett,” she said, her voice low, almost as if she was trying to keep others from hearing. Which was very unusual. Kennedy always wanted everyone to hear her. “You try to spank me one fucking time, and I’ll take your balls off with a snapping turtle.”
Exactly. That was the woman he knew. The woman without one damned submissive bone in her body. The woman that needed the right man to appreciate her, to encourage her, to never try one thing to change her. “So that’s a no on it happening before?”
“Bennett… I swear to God…”
“It’s a yes or no question, Kennedy,” he snapped. Jesus, the woman was so fucking difficult.
“No. And you absolutely do not have an invitation.”
“I’m not asking for one,” he said shortly. “God, that’s the last thing you need.”
There was a pause on her end as if maybe—holy miracles of miracles—he’d actually made her speechless. For a second or two.
“The last thing I need?”
“You ever met a gator that stopped fighting just because someone got a good hold on her?” he asked. “No. Some things are just wild and will fight no matter what. Trying to hold them down is not how you handle them.”
“Surely you’re not comparing me to a big, ugly, stupid lizard.”
He smiled in spite of the fact that he still felt, however irrationally, pissed off. “A fucking badass predator that everything else is, rightly, damned scared of.”
“It’s weird that you’re so attracted to me if I’m so scary, isn’t it?” she asked after a moment.
He almost laughed. She wasn’t shy, that was for sure. Not that he’d ever hidden his attraction. “Not weird at all.”
“You probably feel it takes a guy with pretty big balls to think he can take on a girl like me.”
“Maybe I find the fact that you’re a fighter who doesn’t let anyone else tell her who she is or how she should be, pretty fucking hot.”
She paused again. Longer this time. Bennett gave himself big points. Twice in one day was unprecedented, he was sure.
“It’s really too bad you wear a suit and tie to work and don’t know what to do with a crankshaft and piston.”
Yeah, Kennedy had made a big deal out of the fact that he wasn’t her type. Supposedly.
“You keep telling yourself that.”
“I will.”
He shook his head. “You’re welcome for saving your sweet ass with the wildlife lady.”
“Oh yeah…thanks.”
“And, Kennedy?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time someone shows up like that and you do actually need my help, text me. I won’t leave you on hold.” He felt kind of shitty about that now.
“Oh, I know I could have done that.”
Okay, that was good.
“But this way Bailey had a chance to hear about the growth Leo had removed from the back of his neck,” Kennedy said.
Bennett frowned. “Wait, Leo had a growth on his neck?” That didn’t sound good.
“No.”
Bennett sighed. “Got it.”
Yeah, there was no way Bailey was coming back down here to face this group. Unless she had a specific mission. Or someone with her. Tori and the rest weren’t out of the woods for sure, but they’d definitely scared Bailey off for today.
“And you making me wait also made you feel a little bad, so that was like sprinkles on top,” Kennedy added.
“Not bad enough not to expect payment for services today,” Bennett told her. “In case that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Payment? You’re not on retainer or something?”
<
br /> “Not for this.” He wasn’t on retainer anyway. He was a partner in the business, for God’s sake. Their legal issues were his. And he was trying not to think about that too hard because the Landrys were a bunch of wildcards, to say the least.
“So how much is this going to be?” Kennedy asked.
“We’ll talk about it when I get there.”
“You’re coming here? When?”
“Today.”
“Oh.”
He could picture her expression now, too. She was trying to look annoyed because she was trying to convince everyone around her—and herself—that she was annoyed. But it was mixed with a bit of anticipation, because they both always enjoyed their flirtation and banter, along with a dash of mischief, because she loved to give him shit and was trying to think of ways to do that when she saw him.
“I’ll see you soon,” he told her, making sure there was a hint of promise in his voice.
“Lucky you.”
He hung up, chuckling. And definitely in a hurry to get to Autre.
2
Guys in suits who used multiple forks at dinner and who were referred to as “Mr.”—unsarcastically—just weren’t her type.
But damn, when Bennett Baxter went all lawyerly and came to her defense, it was kind of hot.
It was also very hot when he showed up in Autre in jeans and T-shirts.
So, it was helpful when he tried to do things like use power tools or fish. Because then Kennedy was reminded that he might be very nice to look at and very fun to flirt with, but he was, in the end, of no real use to her.
Kennedy sighed as everyone cleared out of the office and she tried to go back to work. And ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the knowledge that she was going to get to see Bennett in a few hours. The damned butterflies that made her realize that the whole useless-around-the-bayou thing was becoming less and less an issue. And her attraction to him was becoming more and more an issue. But she would admit that only when she was alone. And only in her weaker moments. Like right before lunch when her blood sugar dropped.
But, low blood sugar or not, there was definitely a spark between them that made her feel that they could have some amazingly hot sex, and it had been a long time since she’d done that. Incidentally, that sex had also been with a guy who was all wrong for her. Not at all in the way Bennett was wrong for her. More in the your-grandmother-hates-me-and-I’m-going-to-end-up-in-jail way. Bennett wasn’t wrong in that way at all. Her grandmother loved him, in fact. He was just very different from her.
She lived on the bayou. She worked on the bayou. Her entire family lived and worked on the bayou. Bennett loved the bayou, but in a fascinated-outsider kind of way. A guy who knew the legal statutes around…okay, she didn’t know a single legal statute to quote as an example…but who couldn’t rewire her ceiling fan or get the wasps’ nest down from the eaves of her grandmother’s house or fix the engine on airboat number two in time for the afternoon tour really wasn’t helpful at all.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy him for a sweaty night or two though.
If he’d just been some tourist down for a swamp boat tour or a fishing expedition, she would have had him pushed up against the office door and his clearly newly purchased blue jeans around his ankles in no time.
But she’d resisted because he was a friend of her brother’s. Both of her brothers. And her cousin. Not because they were protective and would throw a fit. They were protective, but they loved Bennett and they found his effect on her quite amusing.
And that was why she’d been resisting him. She didn’t need her family giving her any shit about how she lost her train of thought when Bennett was around and how he was the only guy who’d ever struck her speechless or made her blush.
Blush for fuck’s sake. A girl who grew up around fishermen and roughnecks, with all male siblings and cousins, in a family that didn’t believe in filters of any kind, didn’t blush.
Worse, if she dated a rich guy like Bennett, she’d have to listen to her family tease her about trading airboats for yachts and asking if she thought she could get through an entire conversation without using the word fuck.
She didn’t need the teasing. And she wasn’t, actually, entirely certain she could make it through a conversation without saying fuck. So there was that reason to maybe not date Bennett, too.
Oh, and he was kind of her boss.
Well, he was actually very much her boss. One of them. She had five. Which was four too many. Or maybe five too many, honestly. But he was definitely one of them.
Still, she was beginning to care less and less about all of that. She could take her family’s teasing. If it wasn’t about Bennett, it would be about something else anyway. And Bennett was fun to flirt with. He had a great sense of humor. He was very smart, quick on his feet, and had fallen easily under the spell of her family. A lot of people did.
The Landrys were fun and over-the-top and made everyone feel like long-lost friends when they walked into the family bar or onto the Boys of the Bayou dock. But Bennett had gotten to know them beyond what most of the tourists did, and he understood them. He regarded them with the mix of exasperation and affection that was required. He seemed to know when to take them seriously and when to absolutely not, and that was a skill that took many people years to hone.
Bennett had caught on quickly and Kennedy gave him points for that.
She also loved—no, appreciated (that was a much safer word) —that he had their backs. Like today. She appreciated knowing that she could call him and he would jump in to help even without knowing the entire story. He’d take their side and then figure it all out later.
He was sharp. She liked that about him.
And she liked the way he made her feel like he’d had some very dirty thoughts about her. The way he looked at her and talked to her often sent sizzles of heat buzzing through her bloodstream and she loved that feeling.
Sure, she knew that a lot of his attraction to her was that she was a part of this completely-different-from-his-usual-life bayou package that he was so enamored with. She had jet-black hair with dark red tips, multiple piercings, and tattoos, and she dressed in black ninety-nine percent of the time. She wore shorts and skirts and tank tops—it was Louisiana, for fuck’s sake—but she paired them with her black combat boots or her black Converse. She also loved her goth makeup. Oh, and she could deal with her own wasps and be her own handyman. She wasn’t great with engines, but she could do other airboat repairs, if needed, and she knew everything about their computer system.
She had to be as different from the women that Bennett usually dated as he could get, and she realized that was a lot of her appeal to the guy.
Didn’t matter. She still liked flirting with him and she wanted to sleep with him. Definitely.
It wasn’t like they were ever going to actually date or anything.
“I want you to go to Savannah with me this weekend.”
Kennedy whirled around on her stool so fast she had to grab the counter to keep from ending up on her ass beside it.
“Holy shit, Baxter!” she bitched when she saw him standing on the other side of the counter. “What the hell?”
He gave her a grin. “What? I told you I was coming today.”
“That wasn’t even an hour ago!” Kennedy glanced at the clock.
“I was in New Orleans.”
She frowned. He’d been that close? What had he been doing? Why did it bug her a little that she hadn’t known where he was and what he’d been doing? “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Do I need to tell you where I’m at?” He looked amused.
He also looked hot. Not sweaty-working-outside hot like the other guys she’d seen in and out of the office today, but brainy-in-charge hot. He was wearing a button-down dress shirt, open at the collar with his tie still on and tied, but loose, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was in dress slacks with a leather belt and scuff-less leather shoes. And glasses. Damn. Thos
e always got to her. It was this whole picture of a guy who was totally opposite of what she was used to but still made her stomach flip that completely threw her off. Because he looked like a nerd. The kid who studied on Saturday night. The guy who sat in the front row and asked questions of the professor. The guy…. No. Fuck. He looked like he was the professor. And like he had some creative ideas about his extra credit opportunities for her.
That was what it was. It wasn’t how he looked. It was how he looked at her. He was confident, clearly perfectly comfortable being the smartest guy in the room, and completely at ease with who he was, knowing that he could give her exactly what she needed and wanted. Even while wearing glasses.
Those damned things should not be hot.
“If it means that you’re going to be sneaking up on me, yes, you need to tell me where you’re at,” she said, trying to sound huffy.
“You needed time to get ready for me, Kennedy?”
His voice got that deeper rumble in it and she worked on not reacting. He had this way of talking to her sometimes that made her react as if he’d stroked his finger up and down her spine—setting off goose bumps and tingles.
“Yeah, I needed to dust this place and put on the tea,” she said dryly. Even as her brain spun images of “getting ready” by waxing from head to toe, putting on her favorite tiger print thong, and making sure the bottle of cinnamon-flavored body oil in her nightstand was full.
“Would love to see you bending over to dust those bottom shelves,” he said. “Don’t let me keep you from it.”
“You wish.”
In any other situation that could be called sexual harassment, but she knew that he’d never do or say anything like that if he thought she was truly uncomfortable with it. She dished stuff right back to him. It was their thing and their employee-boss relationship was…weird at best. He owned part of the company she worked for, but he had no power to fire her. Her grandfather would make heads roll if anyone tried to get rid of her. For one thing. For another, her oldest brother, Sawyer, was actually the majority partner and got to make all big, final decisions.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s dusted in a while,” he commented, glancing around.