Easy Fortune: A Boudreaux Series Novella (The Boudreaux Series)

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Easy Fortune: A Boudreaux Series Novella (The Boudreaux Series) Page 1

by Kristen Proby




  Easy Fortune

  A Boudreaux Novella

  By

  Kristen Proby

  EASY FORTUNE

  A Boudreaux Series Novella

  Kristen Proby

  Copyright © 2017 by Kristen Proby

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Art:

  Photography by: Sara Eirew Photographer

  Cover Design: Okay Creations

  ISBN: 978-1-63350-026-6

  This one is for Indiana Jones, and for all of the fictional journeys he took me on as a child.

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  The Boudreaux Series:

  Easy Love and on audio

  Easy Charm and on audio

  Easy Melody and on audio

  Easy For Keeps and on audio

  Easy Kisses and on audio

  Easy Magic and on audio

  Easy Nights (for preorder)

  The With Me In Seattle Series:

  Come Away With Me and on audio

  Under the Mistletoe With Me and on audio

  Fight With Me and on audio

  Play With Me and on audio

  Rock With Me and on audio

  Safe With Me and on audio

  Tied With Me and on audio

  Breathe With Me and on audio

  Forever With Me and on audio

  Easy With You and on audio

  The Fusion Series

  Listen To Me and on audio

  Close To You and on audio

  Blush For Me and on audio

  The Beauty of Us

  No Reservations

  The Love Under the Big Sky Series, available through Pocket Books:

  Loving Cara and on audio

  Seducing Lauren and on audio

  Falling for Jillian and on audio

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside and on audio

  An Anthology with Jennifer Probst, Emma Chase, Kristen Proby, Melody Anne and Kate Meader

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  A sneak peek at Easy Nights

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  Chapter One

  ~Lena~

  It’s been a long day. Hell, who am I kidding, it’s been a long ass week.

  And it’s only Wednesday. Thankfully, this is the last week of the school year, and tomorrow is the last day I’ll have kids in class. I love being a teacher, and I love my kids, but we’re all experiencing burn out by mid-May.

  I blow a piece of hair out of my eye and stare at my notes on the dry erase board in my classroom. I teach high school English. I’m giving the final exam for our read-through of The Catcher in the Rye.

  It’s my favorite book, and I’ve found that when they participate, the kids like it too. Getting them to do the work is the hard part.

  It’s hot in here today. Summer in Louisiana isn’t for sissies, especially when you work in a sixty-year-old building without air conditioning.

  I’m sweating like… well, like I work in an old building without AC.

  I wipe the back of my hand over my forehead and glance at my notes when suddenly, the air in the room shifts.

  It’s subtle, but I feel it. The hair stands up on my neck. I haven’t felt this in six years.

  “You can get back in your Ferrari and go away,” I say casually without looking over at the doorway and do my best to ignore the damn zoo that’s come awake in my stomach.

  “I don’t drive a Ferrari,” he replies. His voice hasn’t changed at all. It’s thick like melted milk chocolate, and he still has his southern accent. I don’t know why that surprises me.

  “Well, whatever horse you rode in on? Ride back out on it.”

  I hear him sigh, but I refuse to look at him. Because just one look will suck me in, and I’ve vowed never to be sucked in by Mason Coulter ever again.

  “It’s good to see you, Lena.”

  “Mm hmm.” I pretend to study my notes, but I don’t actually see the words anymore. “Good to see you, too.”

  “You haven’t even looked over here.”

  I can hear the smile in his voice. It makes me cringe.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to look at me,” he replies.

  “Well, we don’t always get what we want.” Yes, I’m being a bitch, and no, I’m not sorry. Mason was the one. The one that I fell head over heels for, the one that charmed the pants off of me, literally, and then he just left. He disappeared, and I was left here, wondering what in the hell happened. Wondering what I did wrong because I was twenty-two and naïve and so heartsick for him I thought I wouldn’t survive it.

  But I did.

  “So, you’re still mad?”

  I blink rapidly for a second, and then I can’t help it. I turn and take him in, from the top of his gorgeous, dark head to the tip of his designer shoes, and my body immediately comes to life. Panties are singed. And if I thought it was hot in here ten minutes ago, it’s an inferno now.

  Damn him. He just had to stay hot, didn’t he? I mean, couldn’t he have lost all of his hair? Gained a whole bunch of weight? Something?

  “You could say I’m still mad,” I reply, proud of myself for sounding calm and indifferent to him, when I’m anything but indifferent. “So unless you came in here to tell me you have a terminal illness, you can just turn around and go. I’m not interested in chit chat.”

  “You were always good at chit chat,” he says and flashes that perfect smile at me. But there’s something there, in his smile that tells me something isn’t quite right.

  And I’m just a sucker because I’m about to ask him what it is. I should stay firm and ask him to go.

  But first, I need to settle an old score.

  “You know,” I begin and put the cap on the blue marker. I set it down and turn to fully face him. “The last time I saw you, you said you’d be right back.”

  “I said I’d see you soon,” he says, the smile fully leaving his face now.

  “And then you just bailed.”

  He sighs and leans against the doorjamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and glances down at his shoes, then back up at me. “I owe you an apology for that.”

  “Yeah. You do.”

  “I’m sorry.” His grey eyes are holding my own, and I can see the sincerity there, hear it in his voice. “I am truly sorry, Lena.”

  I nod and turn away. “Thanks.”

  “And I need your help.”

  Of course he does.

  This couldn’t be a quick, I want to stop in to see how you are, apologize, and go on my merry way.

  No, it has to be complicated.

  “My Aunt Claudia passed away last week.”

  “Oh, Mason.” I turn quickly, blinking rapidly. “I’m so sorry. I liked her very much.”

  He nods. “Thank you.”

  Mason and his Aunt Cla
udia were very close. I believe that we all have that one special family member that we bond with, who is important in our lives, and for him, it was his aunt. He spent summers with her here in New Orleans when he was young.

  “I hadn’t heard that she’d passed.” That must be what I see behind his eyes. I don’t have the psychic abilities that my best friend, Mallory, has. But I can sense things. I want to hug him, to comfort him, but I stay planted where I am because I know what his touch will do to me.

  “I’d planned to come to town and quickly take care of her estate, but it seems Aunt Claudia had other plans.” He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head, looking at the ceiling. “The attorney informed me that she was very clear that you were to come with me to the reading of the will.”

  “Me?” I frown. “Why? I only met her a couple of times.”

  He shrugs and pushes his hand through his hair, in the same way he did six years ago. But now the muscles under his black T-shirt are more defined, tanner from all of the hours he spends outside digging around for old things.

  Mason is a well-known and important archeologist.

  “You know that she was a bit… eccentric.” He smiles. “It’s one of the reasons I loved her so much. She did what she wanted, and she wanted this.”

  “I see.” I swallow and stare out of the windows at the trees. There’s a slight breeze today. I walk over and open the window, wiggle my fingers and feel the breeze blow in my room. “And if I refuse?”

  “If you refuse, her estate will be donated to the city of New Orleans.” My head whips around to stare at him again. “I know, it’s a lot of pressure. I don’t need her money, Lena. Archeology has been good to me. But I loved her, and I’d like to do right by her.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. So, he’s not here because he wanted to see me. He’s here because his aunt didn’t give him a choice. He’s right, it is a lot of pressure.

  “You can think about it,” he says. He pulls a business card from his pocket and sets it on the desk closest to him. “That’s my cell number. I need to be at the attorney’s office on Friday at 2:00 in the afternoon. If you decide you’re willing to go with me, I wrote the address on the back.”

  I nod, staring at the small square of white paper.

  “Lena?”

  “Yeah?” My gaze finds his again and he smiles, as if remembering something especially sweet.

  “You look fantastic. You’ve hardly changed at all.”

  “Oh, I’ve changed.”

  He nods. “I suppose we both have. He glances up at the white board and my notes. “I loved that book. I read it earlier this year.”

  I blink quickly, surprised. “For the first time?”

  “No, I read it every year.” He crosses his arms over his chest and reads the whole board. “I bet I’d pass your test.”

  “With your eyes closed,” I agree with a laugh. “I’m lucky if I can get eighty percent of my kids to read it. They’re not bad kids, they just have other things on their minds, especially this time of year.”

  “Are Cliffs Notes still a thing?” he wonders.

  “Oh yeah,” I reply with a nod. “And they’re online. There are even apps for that.”

  “There’s an app for everything.”

  I nod and watch his jaw tick as he takes in my face, my hair. He was always excellent at paying attention. He saw me, and that attracted me to him the most of all.

  “Think it over,” he says and walks toward me. I stand my ground, proud of myself for not backing up. I have no idea what he’s planning to do, but I’m suddenly caught up in a strong hug. His arms tighten around my back and he holds me close, rocking me back and forth for a moment.

  My God, it’s just like I remembered it. How I dreamed of for years afterward. Giant butterflies take flight in my belly, goose bumps stand up on my skin. My arms close around his back, and I hug him back. I can feel the remorse, the grief in him, and I can’t help but offer him a little comfort. I also can’t help but notice how he’s transformed in the past six years. He’s bulkier, maybe even an inch taller.

  Finally, he backs away and smiles down at me. He drags his knuckle down my cheek and I can’t stand it anymore. I take a step back, out of his reach. I can’t keep a clear head with him touching me. His hand falls to his side.

  “I’m sorry. That was probably out of line.”

  “It’s okay,” I reply. “But I can’t promise that I’ll be there on Friday.”

  “I understand.” He nods and turns toward the door. “And Lena, if you won’t, or can’t, come, it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “No.” I nod in agreement. “I don’t.”

  He smiles and turns on his heel and walks out the door. I can hear his footsteps as he walks down the empty hallway and I stay still until I can no longer hear him.

  I walk over to retrieve his card and sit in the desk it was sitting on. The writing is simple.

  Mason Coulter, Ph.D.

  (504) 555-9857

  And on the back is the attorney’s name and address. Friday at 2:00.

  The thing is, I can’t even use the excuse that I have school. Tomorrow is the last day of class, and I’ve already pretty much wrapped things up here. I’ll be done by noon on Friday for the summer.

  But I do need to think about this. Sleep on it. Talk about it with Mallory and Gram.

  Drink some wine.

  Tell my body to calm the hell down because we will not be going there again, no matter what I decide. Mason was a long time ago, and he made it crystal clear that he didn’t want anything from me long ago.

  Well, nothing but sex.

  And it was pretty spectacular sex at that.

  But it messed with me when it was over, and I’m not doing that again. No way.

  “He’s not here for that,” I remind myself. He’s here because his aunt dictated it, not because he wanted to seek me out.

  I need to remember that.

  Chapter Two

  ~Lena~

  “Are you seriously getting rid of these?” Mallory asks me later in the evening. She’s sitting on my bed, picking through the clothes and shoes that I’ve thrown out of the closet.

  I’m cleaning it. Cleaning helps me think.

  “I never wear them,” I reply, looking at the pink flowery sandals she’s holding up. “I don’t even know why I bought them.”

  “I’m taking them,” she says and sets them in her growing pile.

  “You’re welcome to anything out there. It’s all going to the women’s shelter.”

  “All of it?” she asks in surprise. “Are you becoming a nudist?”

  “No.” I giggle and sit back on my haunches. I’m rummaging through the shoes on the floor of my small closet. “I really need a bigger place.”

  “You should just turn your spare bedroom into a closet.”

  “Yes, but then I wouldn’t have a spare bedroom.”

  “How often do you have visitors?”

  I shrug. “Never.”

  “There you go.” She pulls a pink blouse out of the pile and holds it up in front of her, checking herself out in the mirror. Mallory and I have been best friends since we were little. She’s a couple of years older than me, but we couldn’t be closer if we were sisters. For a lot of years, we only had each other. Aside from our grandmothers, of course. We’re different, and kids are always afraid of what they don’t understand.

  Mallory has psychic gifts, and she is a medium. She’s quite powerful, and fought her own talents for many years.

  I lean more toward the witch side of things. Spells and magic are my specialty, and I’m the youngest in a long line of witches. My grandmother raised me, and taught me everything she knows.

  Well, she is teaching me. I don’t think I’ll ever know everything she does.

  “Can I have this pink top?” Mal asks.

  “Yes. If it’s on the bed, you can have it.”

  “I think you should bag this all up and set it aside fo
r a few days. You don’t want to have remorse later for getting rid of some of this stuff. It’s expensive.”

  “I’m cleaning out the closet,” I insist. “I have a ton of crap.”

  She nods and I sit on my butt and turn to face her, watching as she picks through my yoga pants collection. “How are things with Beau?”

  She grins and stares down at her engagement and wedding rings. “Good.”

  I nod and rest my chin on my knees. “I like him.”

  “I know. And it’s a good thing because he’s permanent.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, about as permanent as you can get.”

  “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “Maybe I just have extra energy because school’s almost out and I’m excited about it.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “You’re psychic. You tell me.”

  “I’m not touching you,” she reminds me patiently. “And you only clean and get testy like this when you’re upset or have something on your mind.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Okay. Do you remember Mason Coulter?”

  “The dude you dated right after college? You’re the only person I know who would graduate from college and then go back to college to take a class that had nothing to do with your major.”

  I roll my eyes. “It was interesting.”

  “Apparently, because you ended up dating the intern.”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “He came to my classroom today.”

  Mal’s eyes widen and she tosses another pair of sandals on her pile, then gives me her full attention. “Seriously? What did he say?”

  “His favorite aunt died last week, and he’s the only heir. He’s in town to settle her estate.”

  “So, he just dropped in to say hello?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No, his aunt, who was a bit eccentric, made a stipulation that he has to take me to the reading of the will with him, or else her estate will be donated to the city.”

  “Of New Orleans?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh.” Mal frowns. “So, were you friends with her after you and Mason stopped seeing each other?”

 

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