“You’re going to fire me if I don’t?” she asked.
She knew the answer to that. He couldn’t. Boys of the Bayou had been Leo’s before it had been Tommy’s and Sawyer’s, and part of the agreement they’d made with their grandfathers was to employ anyone in the family who wanted a job. Thankfully, that only meant Kennedy full-time and Mitch and Leo both part-time. They couldn’t have afforded a much bigger payroll, for one thing. For another, working with family was its own particular brand of hell.
Especially mouthy family with sassy attitudes.
Leo entertained the tourists from when he picked them up at their hotels in New Orleans until he let them out on the path that led down to the dock. He was often mentioned in the online reviews on the travel sites. Mitch mostly did the work because it was a great way to meet girls. Most importantly, tourist girls—i.e., the kind that didn’t stick around and get attached.
Kennedy was the only one who worked full-time besides Sawyer, Owen, and Josh. She was also the only one who got a regular, full paycheck. The owners took out of the profits and, obviously, the amount of those profits determined how much they each made. Kennedy, on the other hand, got the same amount each week.
“Worse,” he said. “I’ll tell Leo on you.”
Everyone knew that Kennedy had Leo wrapped around her little finger. Especially Kennedy. It had been that way for twenty-five years. As the only girl in a family of boys, and the youngest of his grandchildren, Kennedy had been Leo’s favorite from the second she was born. But he’d get on her when it came to the business. Boys of the Bayou meant a lot to him. Which was why he rarely had to get on Kennedy about it. She knew it mattered to him and she liked making him proud.
“Fine. I’ll send them,” she said to both Sawyer and Bennett. “They’ll be in the email with the subject line You’ll Never See Me In a Pencil Skirt.”
Sawyer couldn’t hear Bennett’s response, but he did note the tiny smile on his sister’s face. The tiny, not sarcastic, he-actually-kind-of-amuses-me smile.
He did not need to know that Kennedy and Baxter were flirting. He couldn’t fire Baxter, either. The other man owned seventeen-and-a-half percent of the business. There was no policy against employee fraternization in their handbook. Mostly because they didn’t have a handbook. But also because the guys who owned Boys of the Bayou and employed Kennedy were all related to her, or, in Tommy’s case, had been family-by-association and had thought of her as nothing more than an annoying little sister. They’d given each other a lot of shit. Maybe that’s what this was with Baxter. Maybe she was looking for a new place to direct her sassiness.
Or maybe she wanted in Baxter’s definitely-not-denim pants.
Sawyer shook that off. He didn’t want or need to know that.
Kennedy disconnected with Bennett with a, “Sorry, I can’t hear you. The cell reception down here in Hicksville is shit. I’m losing you… I…can’t…” She hit the END button on her cell.
Bennett Baxter did not think of Autre as Hicksville. That was Kennedy putting words in his mouth. He might be from Savannah, but he loved everything about their little town and the bayou. He’d been born into a wealthy family and golfed and went to horse races, but he was like a little kid down here and had romanticized everything about the bayou from the crawfish to the voodoo legends. But Kennedy refused to give the guy any slack.
“You know what I think?” Sawyer asked her. “I think you don’t send those reports to him until he calls because you want him to call so you can flirt with him.”
Kennedy gave him a bored look. “Of course I want him to call so I can flirt with him.”
Sawyer blinked at her. “You admit that?”
She lifted a shoulder. “He’s hot. And he’s got a great phone voice. And he flirts back really well.”
“I thought…” Sawyer frowned. “I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t.”
“But, you’re flirting with him.”
She shook her head as if Sawyer was just too slow. “He’s hot.”
“You mentioned that.”
“And he’s got a great phone voice.”
“That, too.”
“But he’s not good for much else,” she said, almost regretfully. “What’s he gonna do? Fix my car? Build me a she-shed? Get rid of the bats that are living in Ellie’s attic? I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “So, I’m just enjoying what he can do for me.”
“Be a target for your sarcasm?”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a grin. “And give me stuff to think about at night when I’m in bed and—”
“No,” Sawyer said firmly and loudly. “You are absolutely not going to finish that sentence.”
She gave him a mischievous smile. “Okay.”
“Wait, you have bats?”
Kennedy lived with Ellie where she had taken over most of the second floor.
Kennedy made a disgusted sound. “Yeah. Little bastards.”
“He could learn that stuff,” Sawyer suggested.
Kennedy shook her head. “I’ve already seen him in the suit and know about the law degree and that he speaks a second language and established some foundation to save snow leopards.” She frowned. “I think it was snow leopards. Something endangered like that. Anyway, any hope of Bennett Baxter being down-to-earth and manly is already shot.”
“He’s a really good, smart guy who dresses well,” Sawyer said. “What’s the problem?”
“I like men who work with their hands and know how to do shit,” she said. “I mean, snow leopards are great and I’m glad someone’s saving them, but I need someone to get the fucking bats out of the attic, you know? Little bastards,” she added again in a grumble.
Sawyer looked at his sister with affection. It was most likely that Bennett Baxter intimidated the hell out of her. She liked the “manly” men down here because she knew how to handle them. She was smarter than most of them and knew what made them tick. None of them would ever surprise her or have the upper hand.
The truth was, she could get the bats out of the attic herself.
“What about you?” she asked.
Sawyer lifted a brow. “You want me to come get the bats out? I will, but it will cost you monster cookies.”
“That’s it?” she asked. “Consider your payment already in the oven.”
Kennedy was also an amazing cook. She worked for the guys because it kept her from having to work with Cora and Ellie, both of whom had taught her to cook and bake, but they drove her nuts. They bickered almost constantly and could never agree on recipes. Which had led to Kennedy putting in her earbuds and figuring out the recipes on her own growing up. She was better than both of them now.
“But no,” she said. “When I asked what about you, I was talking about the new construction worker.” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the window that looked out over the area where Juliet had been working.
Kennedy smirked at him and Sawyer sighed. He’d had his mind off of Juliet for a whole five minutes there.
“What about her?”
“There’s a woman you barely know operating power tools out there on your property, but you’ve been leaving her alone, letting her just do whatever she wants,” Kennedy said.
“Yeah. So?”
Kennedy tipped her head. “So that’s not like you.”
“It is,” he said. “It’s like the old me, anyway.”
“The old you, huh?” Kennedy narrowed her eyes. “I remember him. He was pretty cool. He gave me a five percent raise, if I remember correctly.”
“He did,” Sawyer said. “Great guy.”
“If you need something to jog your memory…”
“I’m not giving you another raise.”
“Fine.” She wrinkled her nose at him. Then she said, “But I don’t remember the old you bein’ like that though.”
“Generous?”
“I mean with Juliet.”
“You don’t remember him being laid-back? Unconcerne
d about the little things? Levelheaded?” he asked.
“I don’t remember him being willing to walk away from a gorgeous woman.”
Sawyer gave her a quick grin. “You might have a point there.”
“Though you do look a little like him,” Kennedy said, studying him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You don’t look…”
“Stressed? Uptight? Angry?”
“Constipated.”
He gave a short bark of laughter. He should have expected that.
She chuckled. “God, it feels good to tease you again.”
He focused on her. “What do you mean?”
“You haven’t been in a teasing mood for a long time, big brother,” Kennedy said. “And there hasn’t been much to tease you about. I mean, I’ve wanted to tease you about your freak-outs with the tourists and with Owen, but…it hasn’t felt funny.” She looked at him seriously. “It’s been scary.”
Sawyer’s heart twisted. “I’m sorry, Ken.”
“I know.” She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “I don’t blame you. I just want you to be happy.”
He nodded. He knew that. Losing Tommy had been hard on them, too, but it was even harder because they’d also lost Sawyer a little bit.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked. “About Juliet?”
Kennedy, predictably, perked right up. “Yes.”
Okay, he could do this for her. It might get him more teasing, from her and from the guys who she would undoubtedly tell, but he understood that would make them all feel better. To feel like they could tease him would help.
And what he was about to say was true. He just hadn’t intended to share it.
“I’m actually a little worried about…” He trailed off, aware of how this would sound. Yeah, Kennedy was going to really enjoy teasing him about this.
“Yes?” Kennedy asked, leaning in, clearly eager.
“I’m a little worried that maybe Juliet’s too careful.”
It was true. It had been in the back of his mind since he’d first met her. At first it had been funny. Then it had given him some peace of mind. Then he’d found out that she’d not only never skinny-dipped, but she was adamantly against it. For safety reasons. Reasons that made sense.
Natural water, be it bayou, river, lake, or ocean, was dirty. Full of critters. And critter poop. He grinned thinking about that. Had a woman ever turned him on talking about if snakes pooped or not? That would be a very definite no.
But the point was, skinny-dipping was fun. Spontaneous. Not something to be over-thought. He wondered if Juliet ever did anything like that—just did something because it felt good without a whole accordion file for it.
He wanted to take Juliet Dawson skinny-dipping.
More specifically, Juliet Dawson was making him want to go skinny-dipping again, in spite of the possible dangers.
That was huge. Really huge.
Kennedy blinked at him. She leaned in. “Excuse me? Could you repeat that?”
Sawyer felt satisfaction slip through his chest. He was making Kennedy happy. Could he give her this much? For that smile? Absolutely.
“I’m worried Juliet is maybe too careful. I think she needs to lighten up a little.”
Kennedy slowly shook her head back and forth. “Hallelujah. Praise the Lord,” she said, still with a note of disbelief in her tone. “He really is back.”
Sawyer felt a kick behind his breastbone at that. “I don’t know about that,” he said, meeting what she’d said, and meant, head-on. “But maybe he’s on his way.”
He was shocked to see Kennedy’s eyes fill with tears. She leaned over the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll take it,” she said, her voice raspy.
He let her squeeze him, actually blinking rapidly himself as he felt his eyes stinging.
Fuck. He knew that he’d been stressing them all out, but he hadn’t realized he could bring his tough-as-nails sister to tears.
Kennedy sat back after a long moment. She sniffed. “So, what are you gonna do about her?”
If Kennedy’s tears had shocked him, the impressively long list of things he’d like to do with—and to—Juliet Dawson that tripped through his mind actually took him aback.
Wow. He hadn’t realized just how subconsciously filthy his thoughts had gotten.
“I’m going to…keep my eye on her,” he said.
Kennedy gave him a knowing wink.
“And maybe get her to have a little fun.”
“Yes,” Kennedy said enthusiastically. “You should totally do that.”
“You think?”
“Come on,” Kennedy said. “She’s only here for a few days, right? So you flirt a little, have a little fun, remember what it’s like to laugh and kick back and be not-a-pain-in-the-ass, but it’s nothing serious for you to get all worked up about. Then maybe some of that will stick after she leaves.”
For some reason that made Sawyer’s gut twist a little. Juliet was leaving.
She’d been here for four days and he’d barely seen her over the last three, for fuck’s sake, yet he was already feeling like her leaving might be depressing. What the hell was that?
Stupid. That’s what it was. But yeah, maybe the two weeks with her could snap him out of his funk, remind him how to have fun, prove that he didn’t have to be on top of everyone and everything all the time.
He could just be on top of Juliet.
And not in the if-I-leave-her-alone-she-might-die way. Instead, it could be in the I-really-need-to-get-her-naked-in-water-of-some-kind way.
“Yeah. Okay, maybe.”
Kennedy lit up at that. As would the rest of his family when she told them that he was not just smiling more, but that he wasn’t breaking out in hives at the idea of having fun. Hell, he’d even used the word and hadn’t choked on it.
They’d probably build a statue of Juliet and put it right in front of Ellie’s. Or on the end of the dock Juliet and Chase were building.
If he got laid, they might declare an annual holiday.
Was it weird that the Landry family cared about everyone getting laid? Maybe. But they were a weird bunch. Who all thought getting laid regularly was a really good thing. Right up there with homemade cornbread and live music on Friday nights.
“You goin’ up to dinner?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Kennedy quickly closed down the computer, pocketed her phone, switched off the little lamp on the counter, and slid off the stool. “Let’s go.”
They headed up to Ellie’s. It was the gathering spot for his family at the start of the day and the end. He’d never thought twice about it because it had been that way all his life, but it was nice to know there was a place he could always go and there would be friendly faces and good food. They didn’t all show up there every morning and night, but everyone stopped in often enough that they kept tabs on one another and knew if anyone needed help with anything. He was certain there had been many conversations about him over the past few months.
It wasn’t just his brother and sister and Maddie that needed reassured that he was getting better. He knew his mom and dad were worried, his grandparents, hell, most of the town.
Sawyer pulled the door open and stepped inside with a big smile. He took a huge breath of the Cajun-spiced air and looked around.
His mom and dad sat at a table near the bar. His grandma was behind the bar, of course, and his grandpa was perched on his stool—the one with the bright yellow seat—and Josh, Tori, Owen, and Maddie were sitting at a table near the back. Chase and Mitch were with them.
Kennedy headed for the back table after blowing her parents a kiss, but Sawyer crossed to his mom first. “Hey.”
Hannah Landry smiled up at him. “Hey yourself.”
He bent over and kissed her cheek. “You look pretty tonight.”
His mother tipped her head. “And you look…different.”
He nodded. “I’m relaxed.”
Her eyes widened slightly
. “Yep, that would be different.”
His dad chuckled. “Looks good on ya.”
“Thanks. I might try to keep it up.”
They both grinned and he felt good about making someone—two important someones—happy.
He headed for the table at the back. Not because he necessarily needed to see any of those people, but he found himself curious about how Chase was doing. And if anyone wanted to drop any information about Juliet.
Sawyer pulled an empty chair away from another table, turned it, and straddled the seat.
“How’s the engine?” Owen asked.
“Not great. But I can get a part in Mountville tomorrow and finish it.”
Owen nodded. “Want me to go over and get it?”
“Want me to do your first tour of the day?” Sawyer asked him.
“No,” Maddie inputted, before Owen could say a word. “It’s been really nice having four full days without anyone talking about the Doom and Gloom tour.”
Sawyer cocked a brow. “The Doom and Gloom tour?”
“Well, that’s just what we call it,” Maddie said. “Behind your back,” she added. “But it’s those tours you take out where you talk about which poisonous snakes and spiders live on the bayou and the statistics on alligator attacks and how much damage hurricanes and storms can do.”
Huh. He did do that. He hadn’t realized he’d done it a lot. But the bayou wasn’t a place to fuck around.
That was what had been going through his head for months now.
The thing was…fucking around on the bayou was a very popular pastime down here and something he and his family had been doing all his life.
“Maybe we should market that,” he said, reaching for a shrimp on his brother’s plate and popping it in his mouth. “We call it that up front, tell people they’re going on a ride into the dark and dangerous bayou, throw in some voodoo and ghost stories…we could sell a shit ton of tickets to that.”
Maddie looked at him, clearly stunned.
He swallowed the spicy shrimp. “What?”
“That’s…” She glanced at Owen and Josh. “That’s not a terrible idea.”
Owen snorted. “It’s not?”
“People take ghost tours in New Orleans all the time. People go through haunted houses and to horror movies. The New Orleans cemetery tours sell a ton. People love to be spooked,” Maddie said.
Beauty and the Bayou Page 10