Bayou My Love: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

you need to do, and then you can
turn me out into the cold, gator-infested bayou. While I’m here, I’ll help you
with the repairs. I’m pretty good with hammers and miter saws and whatnot.”
    “What
makes you think I need any more hands?” Especially those hands, which I too
easily envisioned gripping my hips instead of a hammer.
    He
led me back down the stairs. “Simple math. If, instead of you doing all this by
yourself, you have me, then the work gets done twice as fast.”
    “Assuming
you can take orders. And assuming your work is top-notch.”
    “Well,
of course. And I figure you’re going to need somebody who knows all the locals—what
if you need a plumber or an electrician? You need a sub-contractor who can tell
you who’s reliable and who’s gonna rip you off.”
    “Good
point, but there’s still one problem. I was going to stay here while I worked.”
    He
raised an eyebrow.
    “I
can’t stay here if you’re here. And hotels will cost a fortune. That’s not in
the budget.”
    He
nodded toward the upstairs. “You can stay here. It’s not like we’re short on
rooms.”
    I
laughed. “Stay here with you? Not a chance.”
    “What?
I won’t bite you, cher.” He walked back onto the porch, pulled a cigarette from
his pocket and lit it with a match. “Miss Vergie trusted me. You can trust me
too.”
    “Bless
her heart, but Grandma Vergie was a little bit nuts,” I said.
    She
used to take in strays too—hell, that’s probably where I got my inclination.
She was one of those kind souls who never locked her doors and always trusted
everybody to do right. I was slower to trust people and let them get close. I’d
learned over and over that when you let people get close, they hurt you. They
leave you. Friends said I was guarded, but to me that was just watching out for
yourself. It made life less painful.
    He
shook the match, and the scent of sulfur and cloves filled the air between us.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, holding his hand up in a Boy Scout salute. “If
I misbehave, you can banish me to the couch at the firehouse. That’s incentive
enough to be good, believe me.”
    “The
firehouse?”
    He
nodded. “Engine Six. On the other side of the canal.”
    “I
wouldn’t have taken you for a firefighter.”
    He
stroked his chin. “Why, because of my squeaky-clean exterior?”
    I
tried to picture him in a fire truck. He seemed too laid back to squeeze
himself into a state-regulated uniform.
    “Can’t
a guy look a little rough around the edges on his day off?”
    When
I didn’t reply, he said, “I get it. You think I’m just another hooligan trying
to pull a fast one. You want to see my shield?”
    “Actually,
I do.”
    He
pulled his wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open. A flash of brass
caught my eye.
    “Still,
I don’t even know you,” I said, leaning against the porch rail. “I’m not in the
habit of moving in with strange men.”
    “Well,
I’m not accustomed to taking in strange women,” he said. “But I’m willing to
concede in order to help both of us out of a sticky situation. This way, you
get to do your job, and I keep a roof over my head.”
    “Can’t
you stay at the firehouse for a few weeks?”
    His
eyebrows rose as he took a long drag on the cigarette. “It’s kind of crowded
right now,” he said. “Got a few guys in the dog house and such. Happens about
this time every year.”
    “In
June?”
    “I
don’t understand it, either.”
    “You
have a copy of the lease?” I asked.
    “Sure,”
he said. “It’s around here somewhere.”
    “I’d
like to see it.”
    He
nodded, crushing the cigarette into the step. In the kitchen, he rooted through
a drawer by the stove.
    “I
can’t do this if I don’t know anything about you,” I said.
    “OK,”
he said, thumbing through the papers. “Fair enough.”
    “I
have questions.”
    He
smiled. “I have answers.”
    I
poured myself another glass of water. He stepped away from the drawer just