Bayou Sweetheart – Butterfly Bayou Read Online Lexi Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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She found herself on a street that looked like a postcard. Every house had a big yard and a fence around it. They all had wraparound porches and bright flowers and trees that looked like they were older than the homes. “This is a beautiful neighborhood.”

“It’s one of the older neighborhoods in Papillon,” he said. “My dad bought the house ten years ago. When he had to go into assisted living, I took over the mortgage and we put it in my name. I think I’m the youngest person on the block. I’m definitely the only single guy. Pull into the driveway, please. I’m going to have to run if I want to get out of this with any dignity at all. And I’m going to ask you for one more favor. I know I’ve been sharp and I apologize for that.”

“You were stuck in mud and lost your keys and your phone. I would still be freaking out over that. My mother would have gone under to find hers. I’m not joking. She would swim through all the mud and fight a gator for her phone.” Her mom had solid priorities. “I mean, in fairness, she would do it for me or my sister, too. But probably only after she’d gotten her phone. It’s phone, kids, Chardonnay. And if the phone survived and the kids didn’t, well, at least she had a lot of pictures on that phone to remember them by.”

She was being mean about her mom, but she got her first smile out of him and damn, but it got her heart racing.

“It’s good to know she’s got her priorities straight.” He went quiet as she pulled into his driveway. “Could you wait while I get dressed and then drop me at the office? I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“Not at all. I would be happy to.” She liked to help people. And she was supposed to go to the station house in a couple of days to talk to someone named Roxanne to help with her research. It would be good to get the lay of the land, so to speak.

He turned her way as she put the truck in park. “You’re very kind, Brynn Pearson.”

It was a better compliment than being called pretty. “Thanks, Deputy Major.”

He grimaced. “I should have made up a name. It’s obvious you’re going to be trouble.”

“Only the best kind, I promise.” She turned the engine off and he seemed to brace himself.

“Tell me something. Is there an older woman staring out the front window behind us?”

She turned and, sure enough, there was a face in the bay window that dominated the front of the house across the street. And she had a phone to her ear. “Yup, and she’s calling someone.”

“Probably me. Somewhere in the bog, my phone is going to voice mail and she’s calling to tell me my home is about to be raided by someone who already stole Harry’s truck. Unless she thinks you’re Seraphina and then she’s calling her friends, telling them that we’re having an affair.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, the grapevine moves swiftly.” He did, too. He stepped out of the truck and Dolly followed, bounding over the seats and making Duke huff in protest. Major waved the woman’s way. “Morning, Mrs. Dury! Everything’s fine.”

Brynn slipped out of the truck as the door across the street came open and a woman in a gray housedress stepped outside.

“Major Blanchard!” She wagged a finger his way. “Where are your pants?”

Major moved to the garage and lifted the pad to the door. “It’s a long story.”

“And who is that blonde? You should know I already called the police because that is Harrison Jefferys’s truck and you can’t steal things around here,” the woman yelled Brynn’s way.

“You can when the law is in on it,” she yelled back.

Major sent her a stare that he probably used on every potential perpetrator before turning back to his own personal peeper. “She’s staying out at the B and B, Mrs. Dury. Harry let her borrow the truck. There’s no need to call anyone.”

“Well, I did, and I also told them that you have lost your mind and are currently streaking,” Mrs. Dury said with a frown.

“You are no fun at all, Mildred,” a new voice said. Brynn saw a woman standing near the driveway, a hose in her hand. She was roughly the same age as Mrs. Dury, though she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that proclaimed she was like wine, better with age. “That young man is the best eye candy we’ve had in decades. Leave him be. You go on, honey. You don’t need pants. It’s hot anyway.”

Major had gone a nice shade of pink. “Thank you, Mrs. Klein, but I’m going to go get dressed for work now.”

“And I’ve called Sally Henshaw and told her all about the blonde,” Mrs. Dury continued. “You’re taking her granddaughter out tonight. You shouldn’t be playing around with some tourist who stole Harry’s truck.”


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