Yours Forever. Farrah Rochon

Yours Forever - Farrah  Rochon


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daisies in the slim vase in the center of the table. “And what is that, exactly?”

      “Well, for instance, Google can’t tell me what it was like being a member of the founding family of Gauthier. The town is named after you, for goodness’ sake. Don’t pretend it’s not a big deal.”

      “The town is named after my great-great-uncle Micah Gauthier, not me. And I already told you that I’m not all that knowledgeable about my family’s history.” Matt shrugged. “I just don’t have much interest in it.”

      Tamryn flattened her open palm to her chest. “Do you know how much that breaks my heart?”

      “Sorry to be such a disappointment.” Matt knew his grin contradicted his words.

      “Once I’m done with my research I will probably know more about your family than you do,” she said.

      Her prediction caused an arrow of alarm to shoot down Matt’s spine, because that was exactly what he most feared. There were things about his family that he didn’t want anyone to know. He’d come from a long line of bootleggers, gamblers and worse. The town’s founding family wouldn’t be so revered if Gauthier’s residents knew of his predecessors’ past misdeeds.

      If they knew of his misdeeds.

      Matt leaned forward again and in a lowered voice said, “You know, there are better ways for you to spend your summer than researching my family.”

      The sexy smile that drew across her face had him thinking for a moment that he’d distracted her from her quest, until she said in an equally hushed voice, “I beg to differ. Your family is fascinating. You just don’t understand because you haven’t taken the time to delve into their history.”

      Matt sat back and released a defeated sigh. She might look like sex in high heels, but her prying was still a giant pain in his ass.

      He held his palms up in a you-win gesture.

      “I don’t know much about the Gauthier family’s history, but I know the basics,” he said. “Uncle Micah, who was part white, by the way, apparently won a bunch of land in a card game. I guess he was pretty self-important, because he decided there should be a town named after him. Thus, the town of Gauthier was born.”

      “From what I’ve read, Micah Gauthier was very generous. Calling him self-important doesn’t seem fair.”

      Matt shrugged. “Never met him, so I can’t be sure.”

      “You are absolutely no help at all.”

      “I told you I wouldn’t be.” He chuckled as he squeezed lemon juice into the iced tea the waiter had just refilled. He set the long teaspoon on the linen tablecloth and returned his attention to Tamryn. “Look, the history of this town is pretty much like the other towns in this area. I’ll bet if folks look hard enough, they’ll find other rooms like the one that was found in the law practice.”

      “Oh, I have no doubt,” Tamryn said. “There are likely hundreds of secret hideaways that were used as part of the Underground Railroad that haven’t been discovered throughout the South. It’s always exciting when one is, which is why being here in Gauthier—”

      The waiter returned to their table. “I’m sorry to interrupt again, but will you be enjoying dessert this afternoon? We have white-chocolate bread pudding and buttermilk pie.”

      “That sounds so good,” Tamryn said. “But I can’t.”

      “Oh, come on,” Matt urged. “Dessert isn’t just for special occasions around here. It’s a part of every meal.”

      “Even breakfast?” she asked with a teasing smile.

      “Damn right. Just wait until you have some beignets and café au lait.”

      She groaned. “If I’m not careful I will have to buy an entirely new, bigger wardrobe before the start of fall semester.”

      “You have nothing to worry about,” Matt said. He looked up at the waiter. “Paul, can you box up a serving of bread pudding for me to take back to Carmen?”

      “No problem, Matt. Oh, and I’m going to email you some artwork for the 5K T-shirts later tonight.”

      “Good. I need to get that to Mike’s Printing over in Maplesville. He said the sooner we have the artwork, the sooner he can start making the T-shirts and yard signs.”

      When Paul left the table, Matt turned his attention back to Tamryn. “Sorry about that.”

      “A 5K?” she asked.

      Matt nodded, taking another sip of tea. “I—well, the Gauthier Law Firm—sponsors a yearly 5K to benefit the Gauthier Boys and Girls Summer Camp. It’s turned into a pretty big event, much bigger than we ever expected it to become.”

      “Who’s ‘we’?”

      “Carmen and I. She’s the one who puts it together.”

      “But you foot the bill?”

      He shrugged. “It’s not much.”

      Tamryn folded her arms on the table and, with her head cocked to the side, studied him. He wasn’t a fan of scrutiny, even when it involved a beautiful woman.

      “What?” Matt asked.

      “It wasn’t just the talk of obviously smitten women at the beauty parlor. You really are a saint.”

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