Bayou Baby

Butterfly Bayou, Book 2

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About the book

A heartwarming contemporary romance set in Louisiana's Butterfly Bayou from New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake.

Seraphina Guidry loves Butterfly Bayou. A young, single mom, she’s trying to find a place for herself in the town she cherishes, but past mistakes have made her wary. She adores her son but has sworn off men. She's dedicated herself to restoring an historic house and building her own business. A quiet life is all she wants.

Harrison Jefferys never expected to find himself in small-town Louisiana, but he has a job to do and a family to reconnect with. After years in the Army, he’s happy to spend time with his Aunt Celeste and his cousins in such an idyllic spot. When he meets Seraphina, he starts to think Papillion might be a great place to call home. But a secret from Sera’s past rears its head and threatens to tear the community apart.

Caught between the woman he’s coming to love and the only family he has left, Harry knows he has to follow his heart and with the help of the crazy, loving, meddling locals find a way to keep them both.

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Have you seen the new guy?”

Seraphina Guidry glanced over at her best friend. Hallie Rayburn had slid in next to her a few moments before, and she was practically vibrating with excitement. Gossip. The whole town ran on it. The good news was Sera loved some juicy gossip. “New guy?” 

She kept her voice down in deference to the crowd around them. 

“I got a look at him last night at the Piggly Wiggly,” Hallie explained in a hushed voice. “I had to go buy diapers because Johnny said he would pick them up but then he forgot and blamed it all on breathing in fumes from the rig. He knows I’m scared of that. Anyway, he was napping with Gracie despite the fact that child smelled to high heaven. I think the oil rig has permanently ruined the man’s sense of smell.” 

If Sera didn’t get Hallie back on track, her bestie would end up giving a speech about how Johnny wasn’t paid enough to work on a rig since it would give him every kind of cancer and there really probably were crazy sea creatures that would eat him one day. She should never have let Hallie watch that mutant shark movie. “You were talking about the new guy.”

If houses were towns, Papillon, Louisiana, would be one of those tiny houses where the bedroom was also the kitchen. And in a super-small town, anyone new was the focus of immediate gossip. The town had really buzzed when Gene Boudreaux’s eighty-two-year-old friend from Facebook had come for a visit. 

Hallie nodded and glanced around as if looking to see whether anyone was listening. “So I was in the baby section of the Piggly Wiggly and I decided to take a walk, you know, look at the expensive vegetables I can never get Johnny to eat. I kind of fondle them, to be honest. But then I looked up and there he was in that weird section where they keep the kids’ toys and the tools. According to what I’ve heard, he’s some kind of contractor and the hardware store had closed and he needed a hammer or something. I don’t know. I needed a cold shower after I saw him.” 

“Hallie, you’re married.” Sera felt the need to point that out because she knew quite well everyone was listening. Well, everyone who could hear them, which was hopefully not a lot of people. 

“I’m married but I can still appreciate a work of art,” Hallie replied in a whisper. “That man glows. He has all those muscles Hollywood stars have, and when he smiled at me, I actually stammered. Me. I was the most popular cheerleader at Armstrong High and I couldn’t talk to the man. I nodded and ran away with my diapers and a bunch of asparagus I’ll have to eat myself. He’s beautiful.” 

“Are you talking about that Harrison fellow?” Sera’s mother leaned in. Delphine Dellacourt Guidry was in her late sixties, but there were days Sera thought she couldn’t keep up with her momma’s never-ending energy and zest for life. “Because Sylvie told Marcelle that he was the prettiest man she’d ever seen. Zep is up in arms because, let’s face facts, his looks are all he has.” 

“Momma,” she replied in a hushed whisper because Zep was her brother and he could be sensitive. 

Zep leaned in from behind her. “Nah, that’s fair. Look, there’s always a trade-off. I couldn’t be both stunningly handsome and super smart. That wouldn’t be right. But I did get a look at the man and he wasn’t all that pretty. Definitely not prettier than me. He’s got a prominent forehead. I think that means he’s close to our Neanderthal ancestors.” 

“You understand neither human evolution nor what women want. He’s so much prettier than you,” Hallie argued. 

“He is.” Her sister-in-law, Lisa, sat behind them as well. “He came into Guidry’s last night and I swear women gawked. Not kidding. I thought Merrilee Jenkins was going to have a heart attack. I have to admit, I gawked a little, too. Remy says the new guy was in the Army and he was decorated and everything because he lost a leg.” 

“He was decorated for bravery in battle and he happened to lose a leg,” her older brother chimed in. “And can we remember where we are and what we’re supposed to be doing?” 

“It’s all right. I’m not starting the service for a few minutes.” Father Franklin leaned against the church pews. “Your great-aunt wouldn’t mind. She was late for everything. Are we talking about Harrison? He seems like a fine young man, Seraphina. He’s here to rebuild the grand gazebo at Beaumont House before the big wedding. He’s Celeste’s sister’s son, though they’ve never visited before. I like that she’s finding some family again. It’s been a hard few years for her.” 

Because Celeste Beaumont had lost her youngest son, Wesley. 

Wesley, who had been Sera’s best friend growing up. Wesley, who had fathered her child. Wesley, who had died hating her. 

Sometimes she could still see him and the way he’d looked at her that day. Sometimes she could barely remember what he looked like. She couldn’t decide which was worse. 

She forced the dark thoughts from her head. At least she tried to. It was hard because being at a funeral always made her think of Wes, and hearing the word Army did, too. Wes had gone into the service to get away from her. 

She was the reason he’d died. 

“See, he’s got a good job,” her mother was saying. “A carpenter always has work.” 

“I don’t know,” Hallie replied in a way that made Sera think she’d missed something. While she’d been lost in the guilt well, the conversation had gone down a whole other path. “It’s been months since she’s been on a date. I think this guy might be like diving into the deep end of the pool when she’s forgotten how to swim.” 

“Nah, Sera can handle him,” Zep said. “But she might not want to because she’s an independent woman and I’ve been told they don’t like to be set up on dates. Apparently they like to troll bars and find men all by themselves.” 

“She was having a beer,” Lisa shot back like this was a well-worn argument. “She wasn’t trolling for a date. And you should keep your nose out of Roxie’s business. She hasn’t arrested you in a while. I think it’s a great idea to set up Sera and the new guy. Hallie’s right. She hasn’t been dating and she needs to get back out there.” 

Whoa. She had definitely missed something. “I am not getting set up.” 

“Of course not, dear.” Her mother patted her hand. “Don’t think of it as a setup. You’re showing the new guy around town, and if he happens to take you to a nice dinner where you put on a pretty dress and follow up dinner with some dancing, that’s a plus.” 

“I am not going out with the new guy.” The thought was horrifying. Hallie was right. She hadn’t been on a single date in almost eight months. She’d put it all on hold after the Jackson Lane debacle. She’d concentrated on her son and finishing up cosmetology school and starting her business. 

Turned out she pretty much hated being a hairdresser and she wasn’t all that great at it, but wasn’t that the story of her life? The last thing she needed was to throw a guy into the mix. She had a man in her life, and he was currently in the church’s day care center probably stuffing something he shouldn’t into his mouth. 

Father Franklin gave her a shake of his head. He’d been the parish priest for most of her life, and the man could make her feel like she was eight years old again getting caught sneaking cookies before lunch. “God wants us to try new things, Seraphina.” 

“I don’t think he wants me to try the new guy on for size. I’m fairly certain he’s opposed to that,” Sera shot back. 

“Kindness is what God wants for us always,” the priest said, straightening up. “Your Great-Aunt Irene would have told you that.” 

“My Great-Aunt Irene used to scare small children by taking out her dentures and hissing at them. She was a terrible person.” The only things Irene liked in this world were her cats, and Sera was fairly certain she’d trained them to attack. 

“And yet the church is filled with love for her today,” the father pointed out. 

“Nah.” Zep waved the thought off. “They’re here because Remy made a big old pot of gumbo. Guidry’s is catering and these cheap bastards want a free meal.” 

The priest sighed as though he knew Zep wasn’t salvageable. “I think you should take the passing of your dearly beloved aunt as a sign that it’s time to start living. After all, Irene waited too long to find love and she died alone.” 

“I thought she was loved by all.” Sera thought Father Franklin needed to stick to one story. “Which one is it?” 

He shrugged. “Whichever will get you to keep an open mind. Though I think maybe you should wait a bit.” 

Her mother pointed the priest’s way. “Only because your nephew is coming into town next month.” 

“Archie is a wonderful boy. He’s going to be looking to settle down.” Father Franklin backed away. “We should get together, Delphine. You know there’s nothing wrong with arranged marriages. They get a bad rap.” 

“You are not dating that Archie boy.” Her mother sat back and fanned herself with the schedule. “I heard he ran through an entire sorority at that university he went to.” 

“I’m not dating anyone,” Sera insisted. She certainly wasn’t about to get set up at her great-aunt’s funeral. She didn’t want to get set up at all. The last few months had been hard enough. She’d watched as her great-aunt had gotten more and more frail. And bitter. It had all fallen to her because for some reason she was the only one in the family who got along with Aunt Irene. 

She’d been the one who’d dealt with the funeral home, selected the coffin, and picked out Aunt Irene’s best muumuu for the funeral. She was also the one who’d found homes for sixteen cats. 

Was she going to end up with sixteen cats, a closet full of housedresses, and video tapes of every episode of Murder, She Wrote? She glanced down at the bio she’d written. It was nothing more than a list of dates. When her aunt was born. When she died. Where she graduated from high school and how long she’d worked at the DMV. A single paragraph to sum up a whole life. 

Would she even need a paragraph? 

“It’s probably for the best,” Hallie whispered because the church choir was starting to hum. “I heard that Kellie Boyce bet Jenny Halstrom that she would have Harrison Jefferys eating out of the palm of her hand within a week. You know she’s been on the prowl ever since she got back into town. I also heard he won’t be staying long. The rumor is he’s kind of a drifter.” 

Her mother shook her head. “Men like that only drift until they find a reason to settle down.” 

“Or until the police catch up to them because they use their good looks to facilitate their murder sprees.” Sera might have been watching too much Dateline, but she wasn’t about to become a cautionary tale. Not again. She was the example every mother in town used to steer their daughters away from premarital sex. Don’t let your boyfriend go too far or you’ll end up like that poor Seraphina Guidry. She wasn’t about to add being murdered to her résumé of bad choices. 

“Delphine, Remy.” A cool voice had Sera’s head turning. Celeste Beaumont stood at the end of the pew. She was roughly her mother’s age but looked younger due to regularly scheduled trips to a plastic surgeon in New Orleans. The woman was still gorgeous and still as cold as ice. “Please accept my condolences on the loss of Irene.” 

Her mother held her head high. “Thank you. She will be missed.” 

“By who?” Zep asked, earning him a hearty smack to the back of his head from Remy. “Well, she used to turn the sprinklers on kids who tried to trick or treat her house. Sorry.” 

“A little respect goes a long way,” Celeste said, settling her Chanel bag on her arm. “That’s a lesson your mother should have taught you. You’ll excuse me but I should go and join my family. Again, our condolences.” 

Her mother shook her head as Celeste walked away. “I will show that woman respect. I will shove it right up that tight—” 

“Momma,” Remy interrupted. “Church.”

Her mother settled back. “That woman.”

Yes, that woman. Celeste Beaumont had never liked her friendship with Wes. She’d tried to keep them apart, wanting more suitable friends for her baby boy. 

What would she do if she knew Luc was Wes’s child? Angela was the only Beaumont who knew, and Wes’s sister had been adamant about keeping the secret. Angela had been the one to save her from making the worst decision of her life. Angela was probably the reason she still had custody of her son. 

Sera turned toward the pulpit as Father Franklin stepped up. 

“Still, you should look at him,” Hallie whispered. “Because he really is gorgeous. Is it wrong that I think it’s kind of sexy that he has a fake leg? Like he’s a bionic man.” 

“Yes. It’s wrong.” It was wrong to think of anything but her son and getting them to a good place. 

She didn’t have time to date. She needed to build a life.

She might even need to build that life somewhere else.

The priest began to speak and Zep began to snore.

Some things never changed. She needed to make sure she wasn’t one of them.

* * * *

Celeste Beaumont sank into her place on the pew beside her older son. 

Her only living son. 

It hadn’t been so long since she’d been in this very church for Wes’s funeral. Her husband’s funeral had been even more recent, but it was Wes’s service that haunted her. Ralph’s death had been . . . she hated to call it a relief, but it was an honest word. Thirty years she’d spent with that man and not once had he told her he loved her. 

But Wes, oh, her Wesley had said it all the time. Her sweet boy had loved her with an open heart. 

That same heart was the reason he was dead. 

It was odd since she’d had so many nightmares about burying Wes young. Ever since that moment she’d been bathing him and found a lump under his armpit. That had started years of worry, treatment, certainty she would need a small coffin for her baby boy. 

The worry had never gone away, even after he’d been cancer-free for years. 

And he’d still ended up here. 

“You managed to talk to Seraphina Guidry and the church didn’t explode.” Calvin looked perfectly respectable in his thousand-dollar tailored suit. He knew how to dress his best. Her older child was heartbreakingly handsome, but there was a devil-may-care glint to his eyes that always worried her. 

She stared forward. She could see the back of Seraphina Guidry’s light blond hair. She truly did have the look of an angel, but she had been poorly named. An angel wouldn’t have led her baby boy into hell. 

“I wasn’t talking to her,” she replied quietly. “I was giving my condolences to Delphine.” 

“I thought you hated Delphine, too.”

“I don’t hate anyone.” Hate wasn’t ladylike. Disdain was acceptable as long as it was for moral or societal reasons and not based on emotion. It was a lesson she’d learned well from her husband and mother-in-law. “Delphine and I don’t run in the same circles or see eye to eye on many important things. That’s all. You know I never approved of the way her daughter kept trying to force her way into our family. She took advantage of your brother.” 

“She didn’t take advantage of my brother, and that was the problem,” Cal said under his breath. 

She turned and gave her son a look she’d perfected over her thirty years as a Beaumont.

It was enough to make Cal sit back. “Sorry, Momma. Hey, is there a reason I’m the only one forced to come to this thing today? And honestly, why are we here? You might not hate the Guidrys but you sure don’t like them.” 

Her son needed to understand that they had a duty to the community around them. She’d been lax in the last decade. Since her mother-in-law had gone on to her reward— the fiery depths of hell if there was any justice in the universe—she’d relaxed many of the normal rules and the motherly lectures. And then Wes had died three years ago and she hadn’t found the will to do anything but go through the motions. “It’s our duty to be here, to be seen. You’re a Beaumont. We’re one of the most important families in Papillon. Beaumont Oil employs much of this town, and being good stewards means showing our faces at events like this. We give comfort to the families.” 

At least that was how she saw it. Her husband had put it differently. He’d believed they had to show their faces so no one forgot how important they were. In Ralph Beaumont’s mind, they had always been the royal family and no one should question their place. 

“I don’t know that Sera gets a whole lot of comfort from you,” Cal said wryly. “Do they need comfort? It wasn’t like Irene was all soft and cuddly. That woman was mean.” 

“She was family so I assure you they feel the loss.” 

Cal’s hand came out and covered hers. “You’re right. You always miss family.” 

He was such an irritating boy, and then he would be sweet as pie and prove that he understood her. She squeezed his hand. “And Angie has an appointment. Weddings trump funerals. Everything has to be perfect for your sister’s big day.” 

The wedding of her daughter to a lovely man who would make her the best husband was the first thing to brighten her life in what felt like the longest time. She was turning a corner. Her daughter was getting married, Cal was settling into his place at the head of Beaumont Oil, and she was making a connection with her nephew. It had only taken her years, but she might be able to find some small piece of herself again. 

Being around Harry had proven that girl she’d been was still there deep down. Her sister was stamped all over that beautiful young man’s face. And her sister’s kindness was there, too. So many years had been wasted and now Janelle was gone. So much of her family gone. So much time lost. 

She felt old and she wanted very badly to find one thing that could make her feel young again. 

“Who do you think will inherit Guidry Place?” she heard herself asking. She kept her voice low because the last thing she needed was someone to overhear. It wasn’t proper to talk about inheritance at a funeral, though often it was the only thought that went through people’s heads. She was cynical enough to know that. “Didn’t I hear something about Irene leaving it to the cats? Can you leave property to felines?” 

Cal snorted, an inelegant sound she should correct, but she let it pass. “I believe the rumor is she’s leaving the whole place to a cat shelter.” 

The idea made her shudder. Guidry Place was half a mile from her own house and had some of the most spectacular views of what the locals called Butterfly Bayou. 

Wouldn’t it make a beautiful wedding present to Angela? She didn’t like the thought of her baby girl being so far away. One day Beaumont House would be Cal’s. Shouldn’t Angie’s family have something, too? 

Her husband will take care of her. All she has to do is take care of her family, and her husband will provide. Ralph’s words came back to her. It was what he’d said the first time she’d mentioned setting up a trust for Angela. He’d been willing to do it for Wesley but only because Wes had agreed to go to business school and set himself up to become CEO for the company Ralph’s grandfather had built. 

Beaumont women were to be pretty, obedient, and well trained. A bit like a show dog. 

The only reason Celeste herself had been provided for at all had been her husband’s laziness when it came to rewriting his will. He’d intended to leave everything to Calvin. He’d told her it was family tradition, and it would be up to Cal to take care of her and his siblings the way he saw fit. 

And she’d accepted it. She hadn’t even argued with him. Being the “queen” hadn’t turned out to be so great in the end. Not in a world where only kings were acknowledged. 

She wasn’t going to leave her daughter dependent.

“We should find that shelter,” she said.

Cal leaned in. “You want to buy it? Why? We don’t need any extra space, Momma. Hell, we have ten bedrooms as it is.” 

“I have my reasons.” She settled back, satisfied for the moment. “Just find out that information for me. And look for your cousin after the ceremony. Helena called him out here earlier on some kind of lighting emergency. I don’t like the fact that the townspeople are already taking advantage of Harry.” 

She had to watch out for her nephew. New men in town tended to be pounced on like a tiger looking for prey. Every woman with an unattached daughter, granddaughter, or niece would lick their chops the minute they saw her sweet, kindhearted nephew. 

He reminded her so much of her Wesley. 

“I’ll look into who owns Guidry Place now,” Cal promised. “And I’ll look after Harry. Hell, I would do that anyway. You know how many women are going to be after him? I’ll be drowning in the women he doesn’t choose.” 

Again, she sent him that withering look. 

He straightened. “I mean perhaps I can help him make good decisions.” 

She shook her head as the choir started up. He was such a scamp. “I think that will be the other way around. Remember we have to go to work on Monday, and don’t spend the whole weekend trying to prove what a bad boy you are.” 

Cal breathed deep, a sure sign he was holding back on her. “Of course.” 

He hated work but someone had to take over Beaumont Oil and it wouldn’t be Wes, couldn’t ever be Wes. 

She focused on the service in front of her. Duty. She understood that. She’d been doing her duty for thirty years and only once had she really failed. 

She would not fail again. 

* * * *

Harrison Jefferys screwed the wall plate in and flicked on the now functioning light. The priest’s office was illuminated once more. “Let there be light.” 

Helena Antoine clapped her hands together. “And you’re funny, too. I would not have suspected anyone from Celeste Beaumont’s family to be so warm and funny.” The woman stopped and grimaced. “Sorry. That wasn’t very charitable of me.” 

No, but it was a pretty accurate assessment of his aunt. He slipped the flathead screwdriver back into his toolbox. He hadn’t needed to carry the whole thing in. It turned out to be frayed wiring that had done the deed. The mystery of the flickering lights was solved by handiwork once again. That was him. Harrison of House Jefferys, first of his name, single of leg and the king of all things handy. “It’s all right. I’m pretty sure my Aunt Celeste lives to be feared.” 

Unlike his sweet mother. His mother had known how to love in a way he wasn’t sure his aunt had figured out. His mother had loved his father despite poverty, despite illness, despite bad luck. They’d been the unluckiest family in the world, and god how he missed them now.

“Well, we were all surprised to hear you were coming for a visit,” Helena said, straightening the papers on her boss’s desk. She was the church secretary, and she’d been nearly hysterical on the phone. Apparently the good father wasn’t used to working in the dark. Harry rather thought she’d believed there were supernatural forces at work. 

“That’s because it’s not so much a visit as a command performance. I’m here to work. I think Aunt Celeste likes the idea of having family work on this particular project.” Or all the other contractors knew how picky his aunt could be and managed to find themselves too busy to do the job. His cousin Angela was turning into a bit of a bridezilla, too. 

“Celeste never talks about the family she came from.” 

That’s because Aunt Celeste was the grand dame of Papillon and she liked to forget that she came from a working-class community outside Dallas. She liked to pretend her mother hadn’t cleaned houses and her father hadn’t worked on cars for a living. “Well, you know how it goes. She moved away and started a family here.” 

It was only because Celeste hadn’t abandoned her younger sister in her time of need that Harry had come when she’d called. Celeste had visited occasionally, always staying at some ritzy hotel in Dallas and inviting them out for lunch. She’d never come to the home he’d grown up in, the tiny two-bedroom apartment in a lower-class neighborhood. But when his father had passed, Celeste had been the one to sit beside his mom and promise her everything would be all right. Celeste had covered the funeral expenses and made sure they had food on the table. 

His aunt had a heart, though sometimes it was hard to see through all the designer wear. 

“Well, I knew Ralph’s mother, and anyone who could survive living with that mean old lady would have to develop some thick skin,” Helena said. 

He was rapidly coming to realize that everyone knew everyone else here in Papillon and they liked to talk. It was interesting to try to figure out this family of his. “I never met my aunt’s husband. He was obviously a successful man.” 

“His family was successful,” Helena corrected. “Ralph’s father was an oilman back in the day. His family once owned a big ranch in Texas, but back in the thirties they found oil underground, and that’s where the wealth came from. He married a woman from New Orleans and settled here. I think they liked it here because they could rule the town. Still do. Not a lot gets done here without either Celeste Beaumont or Rene Darois having a say. The Beaumont and Darois families have run this town for a long time. The rich always seem to get their way.” 

“I don’t think having her son die was my aunt’s way. Or Uncle Ralph having a heart attack a year later.” His aunt wasn’t the warmest person in the world, but she’d been through a lot. 

“Of course.” Helena had gone a nice shade of red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.” 

“Takes a lot to offend me, but it’s good to remember we all have pain. Money can’t fix everything.” It was one of the lessons he’d learned. His cousin Wes had everything going for him. He’d had money and connections and a bright future he’d traded for a deadly accident in the desert half a world away from home. Harry hadn’t had anything material growing up but he’d managed to survive. Death, he’d learned, was the great equalizer. 

“Yes, it is good to remember,” Helena agreed. “How long are you going to be in town? I heard you’re working on that beautiful old gazebo.” 

It would be beautiful once he’d torn most of it down and replaced it with not rotting wood. His cousin Angela wanted the gazebo as the focal point of what she called her “rustic elegance” theme for the reception. It was a rich people problem, but then he was good at solving those. “I’ll be here for about six weeks. I’ll stay for the wedding.” 

And then he would roam for a while. It was what he’d done since he’d gotten out of the Army. His mother had passed and he’d found himself without a home to return to. He couldn’t seem to stay in one place for long, so he moved around, doing odd jobs, visiting with old friends. At first he’d told himself it was only until he’d gotten his head straight, but he was going on two years now and it was beginning to be normal to sleep on a friend’s sofa, and he knew every cheap motel in the Western United States. 

Lately he’d started to think it might be nice to settle down somewhere, to find a job, to start his life. He just wasn’t sure how. 

Helena started to lead him down the hallway. A heavenly smell hit his nose and his stomach growled, reminding him that he’d skipped lunch to work on this project at the church. His aunt kept strict mealtimes. He would need to hit a restaurant if he wanted to eat before the six p.m. supper. 

“Well, if you need anything at all, you call me. If you need someone to show you around, I’ve got a granddaughter who knows the town very well. She would be thrilled to familiarize you with our Papillon. She works at the courthouse, knows all the best places to eat.” Helena had her keys in hand, but it looked like someone had left the door to the parking lot open. “I guess the reception’s started. We had a service for poor Irene Guidry today.” 

His aunt had mentioned she was going to a funeral. 

The door opened and a familiar face walked through. His cousin Calvin strode his way, adjusting his tie. “Hey, Harry, the funeral’s over and the drinking can start . . . I mean eating. Cajuns know how to throw a reception. There’s gumbo. If there’s one thing Guidrys do right, it’s gumbo. Mom left, but I get to stay and represent the family, if you know what I mean.” 

“Don’t you dare spike the punch, Calvin Beaumont.” Helena pointed a finger his cousin’s way. 

Calvin shrugged. “I don’t have to. Zep brought it. It’s probably eighty percent hooch. Don’t worry. Lisa made sure he didn’t get close to the lemonade. Besides, Harry can give me a ride home, so I don’t have to bum one off someone here. Naturally my mother took the Benz.” 

“You behave,” Helena said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t listen to your cousin, Harry. He’s a rascal of the highest order. Now you let me know when you want to go out with . . . when Debra can show you around.” 

“He will,” Cal said with a smirk. “I’ll make sure of it.” He put a hand on Harry’s arm to lead him toward the reception hall. “This is going to be fun. They’ll stop bugging me about getting married and start in on the new guy. Ever since Angie got engaged, my mother has been asking me when I’m going to settle down and give her grandkids. Every momma in town with a single daughter parades her past me like I’m some kind of prize to catch. Now that part is true. I’m very much marriage material. The trouble is I don’t want to get married. I want to have some fun. I would watch out for Debbie. Her grandma thinks she’s an angel, but she’s got about forty hands after a couple of drinks. And the woman talks. A lot. If you don’t want to have every second of your performance harshly graded, you’ll stay away from that one.” 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to a funeral reception. He was in jeans and a T-shirt. He still had his beat-up old toolbox in his hand. “I didn’t know the deceased. Maybe I should go back to the house.” 

Shep would be waiting on him. Shep was a big German shepherd he’d brought home with him from Afghanistan after they’d both been discharged from duty. The dog had sat near his truck and looked at him with sad eyes when he realized he was being left behind. Shep wasn’t used to being left behind. He was pretty much used to spending every minute of the day with Harry. 

“Come on.” Cal put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to meet the fine folks of this town at some point. And no one’s real upset about Irene Guidry. That was the single craziest old lady I ever met, and I’ve met most of Momma’s Rotary Club, so that’s saying something.” 

He found himself standing in the doorway of the church reception hall. There were a bunch of people milling about, most with red cups in their hands. “For a crazy old lady, she drew quite a crowd.” 

“Oh, everyone comes out for funerals in these parts,” Cal admitted as he made his way to the big crystal punch bowl and got himself a cup. “There’s not a lot else to do so weddings and funerals are big social events.” He took a long drink. “And damn, but Zep’s got a heavy hand with the rum. There’s way more rum than punch. The Guidrys might be trash, but trash around here usually knows how to party.” 

He wasn’t sure he liked his cousin referring to anyone as trash, but he didn’t know the family well. He did know he’d heard the name Guidry from his aunt’s mouth and it was obvious she didn’t think much of them. “I think I’ll try the lemonade.” 

“Suit yourself.” Cal refilled and looked around the crowd. “Introduce yourself around. I’m going to see what Josette has going on. Now there’s a woman I could spend some time with. Some fun time.” 

His cousin winked and walked off toward a slender blonde. 

He was rapidly discovering his cousin was a bit of a douchebag. 

“You’re the new guy.” 

He turned to find his own pretty blonde staring up at him. She was petite, barely coming up to his shoulders, and he would bet half her weight was in that hair. It flowed past her shoulders almost to her waist, and there was so much of it. Thick, honey-colored silk. Sky blue eyes found his own and held him there. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and he noted that she was drinking the lemonade. 

“How do you know that? Maybe I’ve been here all along and no one’s noticed me.” 

Her nose wrinkled sweetly. “Oh, they all notice you. That’s how I know you’re the new guy. Welcome to Papillon. I came over to give you fair warning. I think single people need to stick together in an effort to stay single despite the societal pressure to give in to the patriarchy. If my mother tries to convince you to let me show you around, she’s really trying to find me a husband.” 

Oh, but he might not mind her showing him the town. She was gorgeous, and he liked the sass she was throwing his way. He was self-aware enough to admit that women had come easy to him. He wasn’t hard on the eyes, but finding one who got him was a different story. “That seems to be a theme. The church secretary already tried to have her granddaughter show me around.” 

A single brow rose over those heavenly eyes of hers. “Debra? Yeah, you have to be careful with her.” 

“I’ve heard she’s handsy.” He nodded. “And she talks a lot.” 

“Yeah, she also drinks a lot more than Helena will admit, and she’s started a couple of spectacular bar fights. She likes to pit her suitors against each other and make them fight for her.” 

“Good to know.” He glanced around, and sure enough, every eye was on him. “Well, I don’t suppose you would show me around. Maybe if you showed me around, people would stop offering up their daughters. I noticed no one has asked me if their sons could show me the town. Do the men of Papillon not know their way around?” 

“Well, you could say that about a lot of them. But no, it’s because there aren’t many available men, and when a new one comes to town, it’s like a medieval parade of who has the best dowry. You need to remember that whatever my momma tells you, I’ve got no dowry whatsoever. I come with a lot of baggage. Tons of baggage.” She gasped as though she’d just had a thought. “Unless you would rather have a nice man show you around our town. I hadn’t considered that and it was awfully backward thinking of me. I know a great guy. His name is Michael Hendricks and he’s such a doll. You would get along so well.” 

Whoa. That had taken a turn. She was smiling, and that smile took her from beautiful to gorgeous. That smile kind of lit up his world, but she was working under a big misconception. “I’m comfortable with women showing me the sights. Did you get excited about setting me up with your friend?” 

A hand cupped her hip, and the sass factor went sky high. “Is there a reason you wouldn’t like my friend?” 

He had to chuckle. This one was obviously a fierce warrior. “I’m sure I would like him but I would only like him, not like like him because I like women. Like like them.” 

The cutest frown came over her face. “You’re a confusing man.” 

“So I’ve been told.” Oh, he liked her. A lot. She would be a ton of fun, and not in the way Cal meant it. He would very much enjoy getting to know this woman. “How about tomorrow? It’s Sunday. I can take the afternoon off.” 

Her eyes widened. “Are you hitting on me at my great-aunt’s funeral?” 

He had probably gone a nice shade of red. He hadn’t thought this through, and he definitely hadn’t realized she was related to the deceased. He thought she was one of those people who’d come for the gumbo. “Well, that would be rude of me so no, I am not.” 

She looked him up and down. “It would be rude, and I was only coming over to warn you that my mom will likely try to trick you into dating me. Don’t fall for it.” 

She turned on her heel and started to walk away. 

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name. How will I know who to avoid if you don’t tell me your name?” 

She glanced back, that blond hair swaying. “Seraphina Guidry. Remember it so we don’t have to go through all of this again. Welcome to Papillon, Mr. Jefferys. I hope you enjoy your stay.” 

He stared at her as she joined a group of women around her age. They all started talking, and that conversation was absolutely about him. No question about it. But her eyes came back up and found his before turning away again. 

Seraphina Guidry. The one woman his aunt had told him expressly to stay away from. 

She’s already ruined one member of my family. I won’t let that gold digger take another one from me.

The good news was he didn’t have any gold for her to dig. If she went out with him, she would have to take him as he was. 

He should stay away. He walked over and got himself a glass of that lemonade and promised he would make good choices. 

As he watched Seraphina with her friends, he knew it might be a promise he couldn’t keep. 

Copyright 2020 Lexi Blake