by Sable Hunter
“It’s a date,” he promised. “And guess what? The elder Bowie Travis has arrived and I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
Joseph took Cady’s hand. “Hello, beautiful. Did you miss me?”
“Always.”
“You’re my angel, did you know that?”
“Heaven knows, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” they shared a secret smile and a kiss.
Isaac and Avery stepped forward. “Before long, we’re gonna let that preacher tie the knot for us,” Isaac winked at her.
“I’ve got a better idea,” she winked back at him. “Let’s go home and I’ll let you tie some knots of your own. You can tie me to the bed and have your wicked way with me.”
“Hell, yeah!”
EXCERPT FROM BURNING LOVE – COMING SOON
1st in the CAJUN SPICE series
Deep in the South - Atchafalaya Basin – Louisiana
Beau LeBlanc steered his pickup down the levee road toward the Robicheaux homestead. He would have liked to be out in his airboat plowing through the water lilies, fishing for catfish. Instead, he and Indiana had been called to rangle a big bull gator who had been plaguing the fisherman trying to make a living along Bayou Chene. These Cajuns had known too many problems, recently – the BP oil spill, the Mississippi River flooding and now a rogue alligator that was getting too aggressive around their homes. The locals had named him Godzilla; he had begun his reign of terror by tearing up their traps and snapping their trot lines and continued it by crawling up in their yards and eating their dogs and cats. Most of them were afraid to let their children out to play. So Beau had been summoned to move the old monster to a safe place before he became a man eater and would have to be destroyed.
As luck would have it, Godzilla had got himself into a predicament before traps could be set for him. He had been in the process of crawling between irrigation ditches at the Guidry place, when old man Guidry had walked upon him. The old gator had tried to get away from the human and instead of heading for one of the manmade waterways; he slid underneath the connecting pipe right into an enclosed deep well of water. The watery trap was likely to become his grave unless Beau could get him out. It was a wonder the homeowner hadn’t shot the old reptile. But he hadn’t – and for that Beau was grateful. He had a soft heart for things no one else cared about. Beau ran SAFEPLACE, a Sanctuary for endangered and threatened animals. Godzilla wouldn’t end up there; he was still able to make it on his own. They would relocate him somewhere deeper in the swamp, away from man.
“That’s the Guidry house.” Indiana pointed over at the dog-trot style, Louisiana swamp house. A tall thin man stood out front waiting, two hound dogs flanked him on either side. Beau pulled in and climbed out, breathing in the atmosphere like life giving oxygen. The swamp was a spiritual place for Cajuns. He could close his eyes and smell his home - it was so many things all melded together in a gumbo of sights, sounds and experiences – hot sun, dark green water, crawfish, mud, cypress trees, and humidity all carried on a thick damp breeze.
The radio on his hip went off. Glancing at the read-out, he turned to Indy. “It’s the store. I wonder what’s up? We left them working on converting those Uzi’s to competition grade.” Holding down the talk button, he answered. “LeBlanc, here.”
“How much longer are you gonna be, boss?” As Beau listened to his employee, he poked Indiana, pointing out at the water. Out in the bayou, he could see the tell-tale eyes and a little bit of a snout showing above the water – an alligator.
“Not too much longer, we’ve gotta pull Godzilla out of a hole and then Indy will move him deeper into the Atchafalaya. I’ll come on back, as soon as he heads out. What’s going on?”
Rick Gentry was excited. When he got excited, he stuttered a little bit – like now. “You, you, you will never believe what’s coming into our shop this afternoon. A woman called and she, she, she has a Ma Deuce she wants us to look at.”
That got Beau’s attention. “A Ma Deuce? Damn! I’ll be there. If she arrives before I do, don’t let her leave – or at least hold on to the gun.”
Firepower Munitions – Breaux Bridge, Louisiana
Harley rang the doorbell at Firepower Munitions and waited to be admitted. She found the locked door to be slightly odd, but she had been told by those in the know, that this establishment was the place to come to get a gun accurized. Her birthday present to herself had been a Remington 5R308. She wanted the 308 converted into a souped up sniper rifle – not politically correct maybe, but there was nothing more exciting than being able to hit a target 800 meters away. To each his own, she supposed. Firing a powerful weapon was the way she dealt with stress and the pressure of living her life alone. But the custom job wasn’t the main reason for her visit to Firepower; she had come to rid herself of a bad memory.
“Hey, come in.” While she had been deep in thought, the door had opened and a pretty girl with coal-black hair stood there inviting her inside. “Ms. Montoya, it’s good to meet you. My name is Dandi LeBlanc. Beau is my brother.”
The owner’s name was Beau. That fact had struck a sad note in her heart. She would never forget her Beau as long as she lived. “Thank you, Dandi.” She stepped into the gun shop. “It’s good to meet you, too.”
The front room of the shop wasn’t very big. The glass display counter held a few pistols and knives, but Firearms Munitions wasn’t a normal gun store. In fact, customers were required to make an appointment. The services they offered were unique and Harley respected the knowledge and the connections they were purported to have. A military contractor she knew of had commissioned them to design specific mounts with a swivel arm for a Mag 58 to be used on a helicopter. So, her request was certainly within their scope of work. “Do I know you?” Dandi spoke right behind her. “You look really familiar.”
“I’m nobody special,” Harley was quick to assure her. There was no reason Miss LeBlanc would be familiar with her face or her work, either in the Navy or in Socorro.
She had been forced to go by Nada in the service, because that was her legal name. But she longed to be somebody – anybody else – other than who she was. So one night, Nada had been reading a motorcycle magazine one of the guys had left lying around and the name Harley just hit her – it seemed right. So, Nada became Harley Montoya. She took her father’s name, even if he didn’t want her to have it. It seemed, to her, to be the least he could do.
“Are you sure?” Dandi looked at her, pointedly. “Oh well, it will come to me.”
Harley hoped not. She had hoped to live here in St. Martin’s Parish and no one ever learn about her unusual line of work. It was just better that way. Noises and voices from the back told her where the action was taking place. Harley was tempted to ask to look around, but didn’t really have time. There was no way she could miss the appointment she had scheduled this afternoon, it was too important. Following Dandi to the counter, she laid the gun case holding the 308 in front of her, but the Ma Deuce was still in the back of the Hummer, for that she would need to borrow some muscle.
“Beau’s in the back, I’ll call him. Did you bring the 50 caliber with you?”
Harley was amused. The younger girl was clearly a gun aficionado; she spoke the lingo as easily as some people talked about the weather. “It’s in my Hummer.
“You drive a Hummer?” Dandi’s eyes widened and her excitement doubled. “H2? H3?”
“Actually, it’s a H1.”
“Wow, I think the Hummer is one sexy machine.” With a wistful look on her face, Dandi took out an order book, “Now, what did you bring beside the machine gun?”
“A 308,” she unzipped the case. “I want to know what your brother thinks about the new reaper conversion I’ve heard about.”
“I know he’s done one, there are a lot of different options to choose from. Let me get him for you.” Dandi held up a finger to pause their conversation and punched an intercom button. “Beau, the Ma Deuce is here.” Harley smiled; it was easy to tell what excit
ed Dandi – the Ma Deuce.
“I’ll be right there,” he released the speaker button to the intercom and picked his cell back up where Indiana was waiting. “Did you have any trouble finding somebody to help you unload Godzilla?” It had taken them a half hour to get a noose over the big bull’s head and another ten minutes to get him loaded in the back of the truck. Beau couldn’t resist weighing and measuring the big gator and he had been an impressive thirteen foot and a thousand twenty-five pounds.
“No, I ran into the Welch brothers and they were glad to help. You know they’re the best trappers in South Louisiana. Did the Ma Deuce show up?”
“It’s out front, waiting on me.”
“Well, get out there and call me when you can. I’ll be waiting.”
“Why aren’t you coming in?” Beau tightened the last screw on a replacement stock for a Ruger 10/22. “Or do I want to know?” Indy was his right hand man, but he pulled double duty and set his own hours.
“I have a date.”
“Whooeee, really?” Beau couldn’t help the little tone of amusement that crept into his voice. “With Nita?” He knew his friend was sweet on an elementary school teacher who lived over near Lafayette.
“Yes, with Nita. Now, quit worrying about my business and take care of your own. It’s not every day something comes into the shop like what you’ve got waiting for you. I suggest you get out there and appreciate what’s fallen in your lap.”
Mon Dieu! Beau stood frozen at the entrance to the lobby, stunned at exactly what had fallen into his lap. If Indiana only knew! This sweetheart was much better than a gun – no matter what the caliber.
There was no way in the world he could take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely delectable. The Ma Deuce was forgotten, he’d check it out, later. He’d much rather talk to this hot little honey. Lord Have Mercy! She had her back to him, but what he could see caused his cock to swell. Tight little blue jeans cupped a behind so round and sweet, he wanted to go to his knees and genuflect. Her hair – swear to God – hung to the top of that little rump and all he could think about was lying beneath her, letting that curtain of dark silk enclose them in their own private paradise. Damn! And he hadn’t even seen her face yet.
She was making a point and he was entranced at the way she moved her hand and cocked her hip. It really didn’t matter why she had come – he would give her anything she wanted. Hell! What if she was married? Surely God wouldn’t be that cruel.
“There you are.” His little sister motioned him over and when she did, sweet-doll turned around and Beau audibly growled. Okay, he surrendered. It was over. This was the future Mrs. Beau LeBlanc. His eyes almost crossed, he couldn’t decide whether to stare at her perfectly adorable face or the two handfuls of tit-heaven that seemed to be begging for his touch. “What’s wrong with you?” Dandi asked. Thank God, his sister couldn’t recognize that he was completely lust-struck. “Come meet Harley Montoya. She has a couple of questions for you.”
Her heart stopped beating. It was impossible – absolutely impossible. Harley couldn’t believe it. She had never expected to see Beau again. And here he was – in the flesh. And he was drop-dead gorgeous. Her mouth went dry and she searched his blue-black eyes for any hint that he knew who she was. Did he recognize her?
He was smiling, but there didn’t seem to be any surprise in his expression. He smiled – and there it was – that little half dimple she had dreamed about so often. Her Beau. God, she wanted to sink to her knees. He was alive - and within touching distance. She had to drive her fingernails into her palms to keep from reaching for him. Harley didn’t know what to do – she was so tempted to just launch herself in his arms. But, she resisted – it was torture. The only thing she allowed herself to do was extend one trembling hand in greeting.
“Hello, cher,” Instead of shaking it, Beau picked up her hand and kissed it. “What a pleasure it is to meet you. I’m Beau LeBlanc.”
He didn’t know her. At all. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed. “I’m Harley. It’s nice to – uh - see you, Beau.” The name slipped off her tongue like a prayer. She had known that the owner of Firepower Munitions was named Beau – but Beaureguarde and its derivative were common in South Louisiana. Plus, she had never known her Beau’s last name, and he certainly had not known hers. Details like that hadn’t been important – they had been more concerned with just staying alive. Still, she drank in his face with her eyes, her whole body shaking from the shock. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your weapons business.”
“Thank you, I’m proud of it,” he was staring at her face so hard, she just knew any moment he would realize who she was. But he didn’t. “Do you live near here?”
“Yes, I just moved from Southeast Texas, before that I lived near San Diego.” Why was she being so specific? There was no need for her to share so much, unless she intended to remind him of days gone by. Would he want to know? Harley wondered if Beau would even remember the thirteen year old scrap of humanity named ‘nothing’ that had clung to him like he was a life preserver.
“Well, welcome to the Atchafalaya Basin. I’m sure you’ll love it here. As a home-grown boy, I sure would be glad to show you around. Would you like that? ” He looked so expectant that she had to smile. His voice had the same sexy Cajun cadence she remembered from their youth. Sixteen years might have gone by, but she would have recognized him anywhere. His hair was the same – longish, slightly curly and black as sin. High cheekbones, a chiseled face and a smile that would make any woman in the world sigh with longing – it was all just as she remembered – except mature and perfect. The last time she had seen him, he had been climbing out the window to safety while she had stayed behind to provide a distraction as he escaped. Harley had never seen Beau again, until this moment, but she had often wondered how he had fared. Hopefully, better than she had – Pell had beaten her six ways to Sunday for aiding in the loss of his star pickpocket. And that wasn’t all he had done. But, she pushed the painful thought from her mind. No use dwelling on that nightmare. The only good that had come from that sad-sorry day was that Pell’s final attack on her had given Harley enough courage to escape. After all, with Beau gone – there had been no reason to stay.
Wait! What had he said? He was asking her out? Harley was so distracted by the wonder of finding him again that it was difficult to process simple English. She was about to try and answer him – but Dandi cleared her throat, reminding them both she was there. “Harley wants to talk to you about a conversion job.” It was obvious she was growing bored with their by-play.
Beau’s mind was fogged by arousal. Conversion job? He wasn’t familiar with that term; all he could think of was blow jobs, hand jobs – you know - critical jobs. “Did you bring your weapon with you?” He didn’t need for her to answer that; he could tell she was fully armed and dangerous. And he was cocked and primed and on a short fuse. Hell, he was beyond aroused!
“Yes, I do.” Harley tore her eyes from his and unzipped the gun case, removing the Remington rifle for his inspection. “I’d like to see about getting a reaper conversion, and having it accurized, if that’s possible.”
Beau held his breath while he asked the next question. “Is this a surprise gift for your boyfriend?” There was no way this baby-doll could handle a gun like the Remington, there must be another explanation. Everything within him hoped her answer was no.
Boyfriend? Harley paused before answering. “No, there’s no boyfriend. This is a birthday gift. Do you think you can do it?” She didn’t explain that the gun was a gift she had given herself. Boyfriend? That was almost funny. If he only knew her crazy history.
To start off with, she had lived the first three years after leaving Brownwood as a boy. After Beau had left, and she had escaped Pell, Harley had run off into the night. She had hidden underneath one of the bridge overpasses near the river. A homeless man had loaned her a knife and she had sawed off all of her long, dark hair. In her mind, it was safer if th
e world thought she was a boy. After what had happened with Pell, if she could have stripped herself of her total femininity, she would have. She handed the 308 to him, anxious to get the focus back on the gun and off of her.
No boyfriend. Okay, the coast was clear. She sure as hell fascinated him. All he could think about was what her kiss was going to taste like and how it would feel to run his hands all over her incredible body. Taking the gun from her, Beau admitted that Harley handled the firearm pretty well, for a girl. Beau was intrigued. He had seen women shoot big guns before, but the thought of this woman handling a rifle was turning him on no end. God, he’d love to feel her hands on his weapon. “Well, sweetheart, it would be my pleasure to do this for you.”
“Okay, good.” Harley felt so torn. What should she do? But, he deserved the truth, didn’t he? “Beau, there’s something that I need to. . . .”
“Here are the brochures,” Dandi breezed back in and gave them to Harley. “Have you brought in the Ma Deuce, yet?”
That got his attention. “You’re the owner of the 50 caliber?” Damn! He hadn’t even thought about the machine gun. She was just so beautiful everything else had slipped his mind.
“It’s in my vehicle.”
“She drives a Hummer.” Dandi gave out that information like she was whispering the most delicious gossip.
“Dehelyousaye?” There was more to this woman than met the eye, and he couldn’t wait to peel back every layer – of clothing. Feeling his cock jerk in his jeans, Beau found himself smiling, again. “Shall we bring it in? And what do you want to do with it?” Fighting to regain a little decorum, Beau couldn’t believe he was acting like a sex-starved teenager – and liking it.
“Sure,” Harley felt like she had gotten a reprieve. It would give her a few more minutes to get her thoughts together about her confession. “I inherited the machine gun, and I hoped you could help me find a buyer for it.”