Bayou Sweetheart. Lenora Worth
that was about men you were involved with,” Callie said. She stirred the lime sherbet into the lemon-lime fizzing soda with a vengeance, then added some fruit juice. “This is different.”
“Is it really?” Brenna asked. “He seems keen on you.”
“What makes you think that?” Callie asked, her heart pounding just as much as the wooden spoon she used to attack the sherbet. She wasn’t sure what “keen on you” actually meant.
Brenna put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, nothing. He just mentioned how he’d met you and that you were...interesting.”
Pretty Mollie put on a dreamy smile. “Isn’t it romantic? A handsome stranger who lives in a big old house all by himself. What’s his story anyway?”
A sigh moved through the roomful of women.
Brenna glanced from Alma to Callie. “I’ve heard things.”
“What things?” Callie asked. Brenna remained silent. “What things, Brenna?”
“Nick told me not to tell.”
“You can’t just throw that out there and expect us to accept that,” Callie replied, worry clouding over her annoyance at her sister’s teasing. “Is there something I should know about the man?”
Brenna studied the faces in the room, drawing out the anticipation until Callie thought she’d scream. “Brenna?”
Brenna shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s true but...I think he was married before.”
“And?” Callie closed her eyes, the answer already forming in her brain.
“And she died. Mysteriously.”
“Of course,” Callie replied, hope melting into a puddle right along with the sherbet. She’d figured divorced. But this was tragic, just like the man. It explained a lot, however.
“Define mysteriously,” Alma said.
“No one knows what happened,” Brenna replied. “He took her away and then he came back to Texas without her. He doesn’t talk about it.” She turned stern, her gaze sweeping the room. “And we can’t talk about it. We all know how closemouthed men can be.”
“No wonder,” Mrs. Laborde, who loved to pass on tall tales, said on a low whisper. “Callie, be careful when you go out there.”
Callie stood up straight. “This is ridiculous. Brenna, remember we wondered what the deal was with Nick? Now we know he lost a family member. That’s why he was so standoffish and mysterious. It could be the same with Tomas. He loved his wife and he tried to save her.”
“Maybe,” Alma said. “Or maybe...”
Callie held up a hand. “Maybe he couldn’t handle things and he bolted. I know all about that, don’t I?”
She looked at her sisters, saw the sympathy and the fear in their eyes. “I’m working for the man. That’s all. I’ll be okay.”
But she had to wonder, as she poured punch into pretty blue cups, if she’d made a fatal mistake in accepting this job.
Not if you keep to yourself and guard your heart, she thought. Not if you stay busy doing what you were hired to do and never enter that beautiful house again.
She wouldn’t think about Tomas Delacorte as a lonely, brooding man who might need a friend. She wouldn’t.
But of course, she was just the kind of person who befriended everyone anyway. Even if they didn’t want her around.
Chapter Three
“So the sale is final and all the paperwork is in place. We can finally announce our plans to the public.”
Nick sat across from Tomas’s antique walnut desk, taking notes on his tablet. “Good. Do you want to see the preliminary plans for the updated factory? The main office blueprints are included.”
Tomas took the rolled-up blueprints and spread them out on the desk. “They’re finished?”
“As of last night. I had to get them done or risk upsetting my bride. She decided she does want to go on a honeymoon, after all. We’re still trying to decide where however, since we’ve both been so busy we’ve held off until the last minute.”
Tomas smiled at that. “Brenna is a forceful female.”
“And don’t I know it,” Nick replied, his eyes bright with contentment. “She amazes me.”
Tomas swallowed his envy and let the lump settle in his stomach. He’d given up on the love thing long ago. “You’re blessed.” He reached inside the desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. “I want to go ahead and give you this now. In case your forceful bride doesn’t approve of my gift.”
“What’s this?” Nick took the big envelope and opened it. After skimming the contents, he looked up at Tomas. “A trip to Paris? Are you kidding me?”
“I hope not,” Tomas replied. “You can schedule it, but your honeymoon is on me.”
“I...I don’t know what to say.” Nick stared down at the itinerary. “Brenna had hoped we’d get to do this one day. But for our honeymoon, we’d thought a quick trip to Florida or maybe California. But Paris... She’ll be thrilled.”
Tomas enjoyed seeing the glee in his friend’s dark eyes. “I know it seems extravagant, but I pretty much depended on both of you, and your aunt Serena, too, to put this house together for me. You did a great job and then you went right into renovating plans for the other property. This is my way of thanking you.”
“What did you give my aunt?” Nick quipped.
“Serena, well, she’s hard to please. She only wanted to bid on my next project. She’ll be decorating the offices at the business property here, for starters.”
“Oh, she’ll like that,” Nick said, grinning. “You know, she and Brenna’s father have a thing.”
“A thing? As in, a relationship thing?”
“Sí.” Nick shook his head. “It was awkward at first, but Brenna and I have accepted it. They’re good for each other and they both agree it’s for companionship—for now.”
Tomas stood and turned to stare out the ceiling-to-floor window behind his desk. He could see part of the bayou from this viewpoint. Banana fronds and palmetto palms waved back at him as they danced in the spring breeze. A snowy white egret standing down in the shallows lifted her head in a pose. “This place seems to bring out the romantic in everyone.”
“You, too?” Nick asked, getting up to gather his papers.
Tomas turned around. “You know I’m not wired that way.”
“You might change that tune.” Nick came around the desk and shook Tomas’s hand. “Thank you, Tomas. For the trip. Brenna will be beside herself.”
“I want you to enjoy being newlyweds,” Tomas replied. “I mean that.”
“We will. See you later.” Nick turned and headed out of the room.
Tomas pivoted back to the window and saw a flash of something big and gangly moving through the backyard.
What kind of beast was that?
He shifted to see around the corner. There it was again.
A horse? No, a dog. A big, splotchy black-and-white dog that had paws the size of a Clydesdale’s hooves. The animal starting barking, then took off to chase a hapless squirrel. The squirrel rushed up the nearest live oak while the dog stood waiting and woofing.
Then Tomas heard a feminine voice calling. “Elvis, hush up. We don’t want to disturb Himself.”
“Himself?”