A few weeks of great sex, sure. A lifetime of danger — hell no. Running the family campground was the last thing Brock Chandler wanted. But, when it's dumped on him, he makes big plans. Incorporating extreme sports into the thriving business is his top priority. . .until his grandfather, the majority stockholder, says he has a corporate buyer and wants to sell. Delaney Breaux is giving up the rat race in Manhattan and heading home to New Orleans. Leaving her job as a busy marketing executive is the one thing she'll miss. Spending a few weeks with her about-to-be-married best friend seems like a good transition. Instead it turns into an adventurous detour. Brock Chandler is a walking ad for danger and she's lived her life for security. When their worlds collide for a second time anything can happen. WARNING: This story contains explicit sex, strong language, and men who live for danger. 51,538 Words
Release date:
April 18, 2011
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
148
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Delaney slipped her carry-on over her shoulder and stared at the paltry pile of luggage on the ground. Her entire life fit inside these three bags. What did that say about her?
“Having you here will be fantastic,” Callie said. College roommates by chance, they’d formed an easy and lasting bond.
“You might get sick of me, but right now I’m glad to be out of Manhattan.”
“I can’t believe you quit your dream job.”
Neither could she. She loved being a marketing manager of a large New York advertizing firm. She’d busted her ass working her way up the corporate ladder but it was time for a change. She wouldn’t burden Callie. “I’ve had my fun in the big city. I was ready to move home. Being back in New Orleans might take some adjustment, but it’s time.” She plopped her suitcase on the sofa.
A stone fireplace occupied one corner of the living area. Large windows with a breathtaking view filled the space next to it. From where she stood, she could see into a sparkling kitchen. The whole place felt cozy and open. “I can see why you’re crazy about this place. What I’ve seen of the property is beautiful.”
“I promise you’ll enjoy your time here. There are all sorts of things you can do when you’re not busy helping me get ready for the wedding.” Callie shrugged. “Of course a lot of stuff is outdoorsy. But we do have a couple of great restaurants, and few other things to entertain you.”
“I don’t know, Callie. If these views are any indication of the outdoors, I might talk myself into being a nature girl for a few weeks. It couldn’t kill me.”
“You never know. Look, I’ve got to get back to the main building and take care of a few things. Why don’t you unpack or whatever. There’s a map on the table by the door, and a golf cart for you to use around back. Meet me there in an hour?”
“Uh, sure,” Delaney said.
Callie laughed as she headed out. “Call me if you have any problems, and I’ll come get you.”
“See you then.” From the front porch, she watched Callie drive away. A bird chirped and a small animal of some sort jumped from one tree to another. She’d wanted out of Manhattan and this was about as far away as you could get–the swamps of southern Louisiana. Burying herself in work, and the rat race hadn’t been as great as she’d envisioned. By the time she graduated from Tulane, moving away and succeeding in her profession had been her only desire. She’d lived that life for six years, and knew it didn’t hold the answers she was looking for.
A quick shower, an investigative walk around the cabin, and it was time to meet Callie. After a couple of minutes fiddling with the golf cart, she found it easy to maneuver. It turned out she didn’t need the map. The asphalt paths and signage along the trails was enough. This place might actually offer the relaxation she needed.
She parked at the main building and spotted Tim, Callie’s fiancé, as soon as she walked in the door. She mocked surprise. “I made it before Callie?”
“You did,” Tim said in his robust voice. It was still hard for her to believe he was a plastic surgeon. He seemed more like a big ol’ teddy bear.
Callie was at her side before she sat down. “What’s this? You trying to prove you can be punctual?”
Delaney laughed. “I figured you told me five, but meant four-thirty. She did that to me all the time back at Tulane,” she said to Tim. “I bet she doesn’t tell me what time the wedding is going to be.”
They settled into easy conversation. There were a lot of loose ends to tie up for the wedding, and she was glad to be around to help. Plus from the sound of things, there were several activities she was looking forward to trying out around the grounds. Delaney could feel the tension in her shoulders ease. A few weeks with Callie would be great medicine. It had been years since they’d had more than a weekend together. She hadn’t been shocked when Callie called to tell her she was getting married.
“Callie, Jamie said you were here,” someone said from behind her. His voice soaked into her like hot bourbon melting ice and took her back to a place she’d almost forgotten, memories she’d kept locked away. She shook her head slightly at the overwhelming idea. Heat surrounded her, and a shiver raced up her spine.
It couldn’t be.
“Come meet my friend.” Callie motioned, and when he circled the table Delaney’s heart skipped a beat, her lips parted.
He choked back a cough when their eyes met. His eyes were the color of dark chocolate, and she loved chocolate. If she’d been standing, she’d have melted into a puddle on the floor. “Austin,” she breathed.
“Delaney?” Brock’s voice didn’t sound as smooth as it had seconds before.
Callie’s glances darting back and forth between them caused heat to seep into her face. Cheeks burning, she reminded herself to breathe. He looked better…if possible.
“Austin?” Callie practically barked out. “This is my cousin, Brock Chandler.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I, we…we met in Austin a few years back.”
“When were you in Austin?” Callie questioned.
“It was for a seminar. The agency sent me.” She sucked in much needed air. “They pretty much kept me in the sky for the first twelve months I worked for them.” How she was able to string together coherent thoughts amazed her.
“Uh…” Callie started. Surely she wouldn’t remember Delaney’s drunken phone call weeks later. But, unfortunately, there wasn’t a thing wrong with Callie’s memory. The color drained from Callie’s face, and she mouthed, “Oh.”
Delaney lifted her shoulder.
Callie said, “I remember.”
“Have ya’ll ordered?” Brock asked, pulling out the chair next to Callie and motioning for a waiter.
“I thought you were too busy?” Sarcasm dripped from Callie’s tone.
“I haven’t eaten. A guy’s got to eat.”
Tim perked up. “I take it you two know each other?”
Much better than he could imagine. She dared a glance at Brock, whose eyes roamed her features.
“I was only in Austin for a short time, several years back. I believe Brock lives there?”
“I did. I moved home a few months ago.”
“Home. This is home?”
He nodded.
Oh holy shit, was she in way over her head or what?
* * * *
Brock sat because he didn’t trust himself standing. Eating was optional at this point.
Delaney Breaux in the flesh.
She’d played a starring role in his fantasies for years. She’d been what he needed at the lowest point of his life.
The day they met was still clear in his mind. He’d gone to confront Sherry, his fiancée, at the hotel where she worked. What a joke that had been. She’d been screwing her boss for over a year and it had taken him three days to calm down before he’d felt ready for one final showdown with her. When he arrived, she wasn’t there. It seemed she and boss-man had taken vacation days, left the city.
Instead of the confrontation he’d wanted, he’d ended up in the hotel bar, where his own personal angel of mercy had appeared. At the time he figured it had been the need to squash thoughts of Sherry from his mind, but their week together never left him.
She still looked like an angel…now more like one of little mercy. Her lush lips were painted a rose red. Her flowing strawberry blond hair framed her flawless face…and those magic eyes were as intriguing as he remembered. A beautiful green rimmed in a midnight blue.
“How long will you be staying with us?” he asked, when he realized silence hung in the air.
“A month or so,” Callie said. Hell, he’d forgotten she and Tim were there. “I told you that earlier.”
“I forgot.”
Callie rolled her eyes heavenward. One of the new waiters approached their table with drinks. “Brock, I saw you sit down and Chef Jamie said you usually have a draft. Is that okay?” the kid asked, holding a mug out for him.
“Yeah, that’s good.”
They placed their orders and the waiter slipped back to the kitchen. The place wasn’t crowded. Only one dining room was open. Most of the dinner crowd consisted of families staying on site. Barring an emergency, he had at least two hours to spend right here, since everything appeared under control.
Now if he could say the same for himself. The conversation flowed because Callie was on cloud nine, preparing for her wedding.
The food was good as usual, but he mostly poked at it. For once the company was more intriguing. Delaney shifted in her seat, and the scorching look she sent him had him hot and hard.
He was more than willing to pick up where they had left off four years ago. A month-long romp in the sack with her would be a welcome distraction from his current project. Revamping Chandler Bayou consumed his days. Delaney would be the perfect nightly distraction.
His phone vibrated in his pocket for the third time. He ignored it. The meal was almost over, and as far as he was concerned, he could linger here all night getting reacquainted with Delaney.
The young waiter reappeared at their table. “Brock, Jamie said he needs you in the kitchen, ASAP.”
“I’ll be right back.” He had no intention of allowing Callie an easy escape to whisk her friend away. When he opened the kitchen door, the corded phone was thrust at him.
His shoulders sagged as Neil filled him in. One of their charter captains was sick and now he’d have to take out a group of fishermen to keep things running smoothly. “Fine. Give me half an hour.”
He paced back to the table, unable to keep his eyes off Delaney. “Looks like I’m going to have to skip dessert. I’ve got to take out a bow-fishing charter.”
* * * *
Delaney watched the retreating back of a Chandler Bayou employee. They were easy to spot in their neat khaki pants or shorts and green polo shirts.
“What did you say?” Brock Chandler was not something she’d planned to deal with for the next month.
“Bow-fishing. There’s a charter set to leave in an hour. The regular guide went home sick. I’ll have to go get ready.”
She laughed. “Sorry, I have to know exactly what bow-fishing is.” The images floating through her mind couldn’t be right.
He was so handsome and well muscled. Strong arms were showcased by the rolled up sleeves of a white oxford shirt that made his natural tan look deeper. His angular jaw, with the sexy cleft in his chin made her heart race. His dark brown hair was sun-kissed with golden highlights. He gave her a half-cocked grin. Her stomach flip-flopped. “Do you want to come?”
She squirmed in her seat. It was going to be one hell of a month. “Uh.”
Callie cleared her throat. “We have to be at the bridal shop by nine in the morning. I have a fitting and you have to pick a dress. Sometimes those trips last hours.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Maybe another time?” Brock asked, watching her over the rim of his glass as he took a deep swallow of draft beer.
“Yeah. Sure. I’d like to see what it is exactly.” It wouldn’t be the first time her perverse curiosity got her into something she should have avoided.
Brock nodded, pushed away from the table and stood to leave. “I’ve got to stop by the kitchen. I’ll see you soon.” He turned to Tim and shook his hand. “We’ve got a tee time tomorrow afternoon.”
“Call me.” Tim also stood. “Callie, sugar, want to walk me out?”
She was by his side in a flash. “Be right back,” she shot over her shoulder as she walked away.
Brock didn’t budge, but stood there looking absolutely delicious, following Tim and Callie to the door with his gaze. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat, then lifted her hand from the table. Sitting so close, she could feel the heat rolling off him in waves.
“Hi.” The sound of his voice made her stomach touch her toes.
She smiled without thinking. “Hi, yourself. Callie’s cousin, huh?”
He nodded. “Maid of honor, I hear.”
She licked her top lip, bit down on the lower one. Heat seared her body as he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, making her smile.
“I’ve wanted to touch you since I sat down.” His big, calloused hand sent a sharp tingling sensation up her arm. All she could think was how his hand would feel on her bare skin. The rumbling heat in his chocolate eyes made her achy, needy.
“I don’t know what to say. I can’t…”
“I know.” He shook his head. “Can we talk tomorrow? Callie volunteers at the YMCA on Wednesday afternoon. Tim and I fell into a routine of golfing then, but I’ll call him in the morning and cancel.”
Not entirely certain her voice would work, she nodded. What did he mean? Did he think they could fall in to a month-long affair? She didn’t, was making changes in her life and didn’t need complications.
He stood, her hand still in his. “I do have to go, but I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She swallowed. “And Brock?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s great to see you.”
He kissed the back of her hand, leaving a moist imprint on her skin.
“It’s good to see you too, Delaney.” He let her hand go, and turned to leave. She watched as he disappeared behind the kitchen door.
Callie came back and practically pulled her from the dining room and out the door. They were seated in her car and driving to the cabin before Delaney knew what had hit her.
Callie parked, and she was headed inside with her when she realized she’d left the golf cart.
“Wait a minute, what’s the rush? I had the golf cart there.”
“You’d never find your way back here in the dark. Besides, there are critters out there.”
“What a way to make me feel cozy. Thanks.”
Callie snorted a laugh. “You looked pretty damn cozy to me. I don’t think the thought of critters is what’s on your mind tonight.”
Delaney closed the cabin door. Callie flopped onto the sofa, drumming her fingers on the low back. “So...Miracle Mouth has an identity after all.”
“Oh, please.”
“I know you, honey, and you looked like you were about to melt right out of that chair when Brock showed up.”
Heat rushed up her chest and into her face. It was true. The sound of his voice had done it. She groaned and sank into the armchair. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, honey. I . . .
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