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Yours Forever
Farrah Rochon
Can the sins of the past . . .Louisiana powerhouse attorney Matthew Gauthier has spent a lifetime safeguarding his prominent family’s scandalous history. So when Tamryn West makes it her mission to dig up the past, Matthew must do everything in his power to stop her. But his plan to distract the alluring history professor begins to send his own passions raging out of control.. . . Become the hope of the future?Tamryn came to the town of Gauthier to find the diary that could be the missing link to her grandmother and her enduring legacy. In the process, she stumbles on the secrets of another family—secrets Matt will protect at any cost. As his sensual touch awakens Tamryn’s deepest desires, will a revelation that could make her career cost Matt his political dreams–and their future together?


Can the sins of the past…
Louisiana powerhouse attorney Matthew Gauthier has spent a lifetime safeguarding his prominent family’s scandalous history. So when Tamryn West makes it her mission to dig up the past, Matthew must do everything in his power to stop her. But his plan to distract the alluring history professor begins to send his own passions raging out of control.
…become the hope of the future?
Tamryn came to the town of Gauthier to find the diary that could be the missing link to her grandmother and her enduring legacy. In the process, she stumbles onto the secrets of another family—secrets Matt will protect at any cost. As his sensual touch awakens Tamryn’s deepest desires, will a revelation that could make her career cost Matt his political dreams—and their future together?Can the sins of the past…
“No, no, no.” He caught her hand and pulled her toward him. “You don’t get to leave until you answer the question.”
“Says who?”
He didn’t reply. He didn’t let go of her hand, either.
“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?” Tamryn asked.
He shrugged. “I’m an only child. It comes with the territory.” He pulled her closer. “Now, tell me. How much will flashing my dimples help with my campaign?”
“I’m sure those dimples will win you a lot of votes.”
Matt dipped his head until his forehead nearly touched hers. In a low murmur he said, “I think you know that’s not the campaign I’m talking about.”
The urge to kiss her was so potent, so dangerously powerful, that Matt had to remind himself it wasn’t his God-given right. At the moment, he couldn’t think of anything but giving in to the impulse to discover how her mouth would feel against his.
“Why are you making this so difficult?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
“What am I making difficult this time?”
“The oath I took to keep things strictly professional with you.”
FARRAH ROCHON
had dreams of becoming a fashion designer as a teenager, until she discovered she would be expected to wear something other than jeans to work every day. Thankfully, the coffee shop where she writes does not have a dress code.
When Farrah is not penning stories, the avid sports fan feeds her addiction to football by attending New Orleans Saints games.
Yours Forever
Farrah Rochon

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
I don’t know about you, but I’m fascinated by the study of genealogy. Maybe it’s because I come from a large family. Those old stories that were staples around the dinner table piqued my inquisitive mind as a young girl, and I’ve always wanted to dig into my family’s history.
One of the coolest things about the internet is the ease with which a person can now study their family’s past. With the click of a mouse you can discover a plethora of interesting facts about your ancestors. For Professor Tamryn West, the heroine of Yours Forever, researching her great-great-grandmother’s past is more than just something cool to do on the internet; it is her life’s passion.
I hope you enjoy following Tamryn on her journey as she uncovers the secrets of her family’s past…and finds love in the place she least expects.
I thank you for returning to the town of Gauthier, Louisiana, with me. Come back next month for another story in the Bayou Dreams series, Forever’s Promise. I am positive that you will fall in love with Shayla and Xavier.
Happy reading,
Farrah Rochon
For my traveling buddy, my aunt, Catherine Gray.
Looking forward to many more adventures!
But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded.
—2 Chronicles 15:6–8
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u0373c0d0-efaa-55a5-adeb-d9b8f54ae763)
Chapter 2 (#ub4579a2b-f7ca-59cc-a219-ffa53590d464)
Chapter 3 (#ude8b1d2d-6fe0-5a9d-81f0-4616e462f4cb)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1
“How did I end up here?”
Tamryn West stumbled over a clump of dried mud as she walked along the dirt-and-gravel road. She did her best Statue of Liberty impersonation as she pointed her cell phone skyward and tried to find a signal. Shielding her eyes against the sun’s rays, she spun in a slow circle, hoping to spot something other than the trees and high weeds that seemed to stretch for miles all around her.
“How in the hell did I end up here?”
And who would she have to murder at the car-rental company for renting her a car with a busted radiator? She was no automobile expert, but after eight years in Boston she’d refilled the antifreeze enough times to know how a radiator should look, and it should definitely not have steam blowing out of it like a pot of boiling pasta.
She held the phone up to the sky again, but got the same result. Zero bars. Was it really a surprise that the Middle of Nowhere, Louisiana, wouldn’t have cell-phone service?
Tamryn peered down the road she’d been traveling, trying to recall the last house she’d passed. It had been at least five miles back. Possibly more.
She was not walking for miles in these heels. She’d probably have better luck if she continued traveling east instead of backtracking. According to her cell phone’s GPS—back when it was working and before it started recalculating over and over again—she had been only fifteen miles from the town of Gauthier.
That meant she should only have about five miles or so to go, right?
Of course, that was before her ill-advised detour onto this dirt road.
“No use beating yourself up over it,” Tamryn told herself, blowing out a weary breath.
The best thing she could do right now was get moving. She’d been out here for nearly an hour already, and not a single car had passed. She would have to walk until she found some sign of life, or at least enough bars on her cell phone to send an SOS text message.
Tamryn started back for the rental car to retrieve her laptop, because even though there had been no sign of life on this road, she would not chance having her laptop stolen. All of her important files were backed up on several flash drives, but that didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be able to make it a day without her computer.
The rumble of an engine broke into the stillness that had surrounded her for the past hour. Tamryn surveyed the area ahead and spotted a cloud of red dust mushrooming in the distance. A shiny motorcycle appeared, emerging from the cloud like a ghost come to life.
Her heart rate escalated.
This could be a good thing, or it could be a very, very bad thing.
She was a woman alone on a back road in an unfamiliar town. She had no cell-phone service, and even in a pair of Nikes she could only manage a comfortable jog. If she had to outrun some unsavory character on a motorcycle while wearing these heels, she’d just as well give up right now.
“Enough with the dramatics,” Tamryn said. Maybe Motorcycle Guy was a perfectly safe gentleman taking a leisurely Sunday-afternoon bike ride around the countryside. For all she knew, he could be a seventy-year-old retiree trying to recapture his youth.
Motorcycle Guy started to let off the gas about ten yards ahead of her, so that by the time he reached the tail end of her rental car, his bike kicked up only a smattering of dust.
He stopped and steadied his legs on the ground, and one thing became immediately clear: this was no seventy-year-old retiree, not with the way his solid black T-shirt hugged his leanly muscled biceps, shoulders and chest. It was obvious his jeans had seen better days, but the way the worn fabric molded to his legs literally made her mouth water. He wore dark sunglasses, nearly as black as his gleaming motorcycle helmet.
Well, if she had to play the damsel in distress, at least her knight in shining armor was smoking-hot.
“Car trouble?” he asked in a deep, smooth voice.
Tamryn nodded. “It’s the radiator.”
“That’s never good.” He dropped the kickstand into place and climbed off the massive black-and-chrome motorcycle, removing his helmet and hanging it on the handlebar. Tamryn studied his easy gait as he made his way to the front where she’d left the hood up. He braced his hands against the compact car’s frame and leaned over, studying the engine.
She thought the jeans had molded magnificently to his legs, but that was nothing compared to how the denim cupped his ass. Sheer perfection.
“It doesn’t look good,” he said, backing from underneath the hood. He dusted his hands off on his backside. “You’ll need to call a tow truck.”
Tamryn held her phone up to him. “That would be a lot easier if there was cell-phone service.”
A corner of his mouth curled up, and her heart did a two-step. Who would have thought such a small smile could do that much for a man’s face.
“Are you heading to Gauthier?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m staying at a bed-and-breakfast called Belle Mansion.”
“Belle Maison,” he corrected her.
“Ah, yes. Forgive my rusty French,” she said. “I forgot for a minute that I was in Louisiana.”
And there was that smile again. The man had dimples. Extremely cute, extremely sexy dimples.
“You’re only a few miles from Belle Maison.” He gestured toward his bike. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride into town and send a tow truck out to get the car.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Matt, by the way.”
“Tamryn,” she answered, shaking his hand, which was much smoother than she’d anticipated. It went against his rough-and-tough biker image. Although, as she got a closer look at him, she acknowledged that he didn’t seem all that rough. His light brown skin was practically flawless, his haircut close and trimmed with precision. Tamryn glanced at his hands. The nails were neat, without a speck of dirt underneath them.
Her eyes returned to his face and she noticed there was something extremely familiar about him.
“Do you want a ride?” he asked.
“Uh...what?” She shook her head to clear it.
He pulled his sunshades down and peered at her over the rim. His brows lifted, and he hooked a thumb toward the bike. “A ride? To Belle Maison?”
Tamryn reared back with a start.
It was him. Matthew Gauthier. The man who had been avoiding every effort she’d made to contact him over the past six months.
Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he looked nothing like the impeccably attired attorney she’d spotted in the few photos she’d been able to find of him during her numerous Google searches.
“You can wait with the car, but I don’t recommend it,” he continued. “Once that sun starts setting it won’t be long before it’s pitch-black out here. I’d much rather take you with me.”
There was something about the way his voice dropped on that last statement that made her spine tingle with all sorts of...interesting sensations.
No. No, no, no. This was a spine-tingling-free trip. She was in Louisiana for a specific purpose, and it had nothing to do with indulging in tingles of any kind, especially those brought on by cute dimples and well-fitting jeans.
She’d allowed herself to be distracted from completing her research before and, courtesy of her best friend and colleague, Victoria Brown, had an I Played the Fool T-shirt to prove it. She’d even brought the T-shirt down here with her as a reminder of what she would not be doing again.
The unwelcome reminder of her previous lapse in judgment quickly squelched the stubborn remaining tingles and brought her focus back to her current predicament and the need to find a way out of it.
Tamryn peered toward the western sky. It was already melting into a mixture of orange and pink as the sun was gradually swallowed up by the horizon. Which should she fear more, getting on that bike with Mr. Sexy Dimples or getting eaten by some swamp creature? She’d already determined that she was over those tingles, so the choice was simple.
“I’ll take you up on your ride,” Tamryn said. She immediately cringed. Was she hearing sexual innuendo even where there was none?
A faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Smart choice,” he said.
That remained to be seen. If her too-often-ignored libido decided to come out and play, Tamryn was sure she would regret not trying her luck with the swamp creatures.
“I’ll need to take my laptop,” she told him.
“You don’t have to worry about anyone stealing it. This road doesn’t get much traffic.”
She tossed a look over her shoulder. “You’re on it.”
His grin edged up just a bit more. “Touché.”
It occurred to her that he obviously had no idea who she was. Tamryn wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was probably a good thing, seeing as the man had made an Olympic sport out of avoiding her, but there was a teeny, tiny portion of her ego that was just a teeny, tiny bit ticked off. Seriously, they’d played phone tag and exchanged emails since last fall. Was a little recognition too much to ask for?
Although it was quite possible that he hadn’t taken the time to scour the internet for information about her. She, on the other hand, had spent the better part of the past semester trying to learn all she could about Matthew Gauthier’s family and the sleepy little town along the Louisiana bayou that one of his ancestors founded nearly two centuries ago. To say she had become a bit obsessed would occupy the top spot of the Understatement of the Century list.
Tamryn opened the car and grabbed hold of her purse and the messenger bag that doubled as her laptop case.
Before she even had the chance to close the door, Matthew had already plucked the bag from her fingers and pulled the strap over his head and across his chest. Then he walked over to the bike and climbed on.
His hands gripping the handlebars, he gestured her over with his head. “Hop on.”
Tamryn peered down at her sage-green silk shell, gray pencil skirt and heels.
Well, this will be interesting.
She walked the remaining couple of feet to the huge motorcycle. With a deep breath, she hitched her skirt up about an inch and tried to climb onto the bike. She was barely able to part her legs. She drew her skirt a bit higher, but it was still way too snug.
Matt peered over his shoulder. “You need some help?”
“No,” Tamryn quickly assured him. “I’ve got it.”
Pushing back a tidal wave of self-consciousness, she hiked her skirt up to the very tops of her thighs and, capturing the hand he held out to her, climbed onto the massive machine. She latched on to the sides of the seat, steadying herself.
Was the tremble quaking throughout her stomach due to this being her first time on a motorcycle or because of her proximity to the bike’s other occupant?
Matt unhooked the helmet from the handlebar and handed it to her. “It’s too big for you, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Thanks,” Tamryn said. She donned the helmet, cringing at how ridiculous she must look dressed in her best Professor Tamryn West, Ph.D., attire and wearing a motorcycle helmet. It was a good thing she wasn’t vain.
“You’ll need to hold on to me,” he said.
Her eyes fell shut. She’d just known that was coming.
Matt reached back with his left hand and captured her wrist, wrapping her arm around him. Tamryn brought her right arm in front and linked her hands together around his waist. She could feel the solid muscles of his abdomen underneath the soft cotton T-shirt, branding her palms.
Down, libido, she silently admonished. They were just abs, for goodness’ sake. Very nice, very ripped abs, but still just abs.
He started the bike and the engine reverberated, rolling like thunder underneath them and adding to the quake in her belly.
“Don’t go too fast,” Tamryn called over his shoulder.
She could feel his low rumble of laughter against her hands, but he heeded her request, setting out on a leisurely ride. Despite their sedate pace, bits of rock and dust still kicked up from the tires, pelting her bare skin. By the time Matt turned off the dirt road and onto smooth asphalt, her legs were burning. She knew she’d have a few nicks and scratches.
They rode for several miles, driving past quaint clapboard houses. Some had large wraparound porches, and just about all of them had huge front yards.
A few minutes later, they turned onto a driveway, which led up to the magnificent yellow Victorian home Tamryn had fallen in love with when she’d booked her stay online. It had white trim, a conical turret and a classic pitched roof.
Just as they pulled up to the front porch, the door opened and a woman who looked to be about Tamryn’s age walked out.
“Hey, there, Matt,” she called with a wave.
“How’s it going, Phil? I found one of your guests stranded on the road that leads to Ponderosa Pond.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?” the woman asked as she hurried down the steps.
At the moment, Tamryn’s main concern was getting off the bike without flashing her goodies to the world. She hiked her skirt up and quickly slipped off, pushing her skirt down as soon as her feet touched the ground.
“A busted radiator on my rental car,” she answered. She pulled off the helmet and handed it to Matt. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered. The sudden lower pitch to his voice was not helping in her quest to keep the tingles at bay.
“Sorry about the car trouble,” the other woman said. “Not a good way to start your vacation.” She held her hand out. “I’m Phylicia, by the way. We talked on the phone the other day.”
“Oh, yes. I’m Tamryn,” she said, shaking the woman’s outstretched hand.
“I figured. All of our other guests have already checked in. Let’s get you inside. I just made a pitcher of lemonade. Matt, you want any?”
They both looked back at Matt, who was still on the motorcycle. Tamryn was momentarily stunned by the power he exuded, his firm thighs braced apart as he steadied himself on the bike.
Instead of getting off, he put on the helmet Tamryn had just handed him and secured the chin strap. “I’ll go back and get her bags,” he said.
“That’s really not necessary,” she told him. “I can drive back to get them once the rental company brings me a replacement car.”
“Or I can send Jamal,” Phylicia suggested. “He’s at his office in New Orleans, but should be getting home soon.”
“I already know where the car is,” Matt said. He held his hand out to her. “Keys?”
“Are you sure?” Tamryn asked him.
“Very sure,” he answered. “Let me have your keys.”
His eyes were the only part of his face visible from behind the helmet and lower face shield, but she could tell by the way they crinkled at the corners that he was smiling.
She pulled the single key from the pocket of her slim skirt and dropped it into his palm.
“I won’t be gone too long.” His voice did that sexy, deepening thing again, and her body responded in kind.
This was not good. It wasn’t even in the neighborhood of good.
She’d come to Gauthier in hopes of getting to know this man better...in a professional way. There was nothing professional about the fireworks that went off in her belly whenever his voice dropped low.
Matt revved the bike’s engine and, with a brief nod and another of those inconceivably sexy grins, took off down the driveway. Tamryn continued to stare until he was nothing more than a small dot on the horizon.
“If you’d like, I can show you to your room, then you can come down to dinner,” Phylicia said, knocking her out of her daze.
Tamryn turned to her, embarrassed by the fact that she didn’t have a clue what the woman had just said. “I’m sorry, but what was that?”
Phylicia’s lips held a trace of a grin. “He has that effect on people,” she said. “Anyway, as I was saying, dinner is at seven. It’s communal and held in the large dining room, but if you’d like, I can bring your food to your room. Room service isn’t something we offer, but after the afternoon you’ve had, you’re probably not up for dining with a bunch of people you don’t know. You look as if you can use some rest.”
“Is it that bad?” Tamryn asked, running a self-conscious hand through her hair.
Phylicia’s lips twisted with chagrin. “Sorry, I’m still learning how to be a gracious hostess who doesn’t speak her mind all the time.”
“That’s okay.” Tamryn laughed. “I’d rather hear the truth.”
She’d checked in through Belle Maison’s online service before arriving, so Phylicia, who she learned was the fiancée of the bed-and-breakfast’s owner, showed her to her room. It was elegantly furnished, with a four-poster canopy bed, a tufted settee with delicate legs and a cheval mirror in the corner. She’d chosen this room specifically for the balcony that overlooked the gazebo on the east lawn. She rarely got the chance to enjoy working outside, and Tamryn planned to spend most of her summer on the reclining patio chair she spotted out there.
As much as she wanted to explore where she would be residing for the next month and a half, the first thing Tamryn did once Phylicia left was go straight to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. She had been dying to wash off the bits of dirt that had glommed on to her legs during her motorcycle ride into town.
After cleaning up, she returned to her room and fished the number for the car-rental company from her purse. Tamryn was standing outside on her balcony, trying to maintain her patience as she waited for the customer-service representative to come back on the line, when she noticed a jet-black Mercedes-Benz turning into the driveway. It pulled closer to the house and out of her line of vision.
A few minutes later there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Matt loaded down with her luggage.
“Where can I put these?” he asked.
Just as she was about to answer, the customer-service rep came back on the line. Tamryn pointed to the area in front of the bed and held her finger up, asking him to wait.
“I already told you that the road where the car is located didn’t have any signs. It was just a dirt road,” she told the woman on the other end of the line.
Matt gestured for her to give him the phone. Her brows hitched, silently asking, Are you sure? He nodded and crooked his fingers. She handed him the phone and crossed her arms over her chest, eager to see if he would be able to make any progress.
“Hello,” he spoke into the phone. His voice was incredibly smooth and vastly different from the clipped tone he’d used when rushing her off the phone the few times she’d been able to get past the office manager at his law firm.
“Do you have your own towing service, or do you contract out to the closest local company?” he asked the customer-service rep. “I figured as much. If you’re going with Beauregard’s Towing, it’ll probably be Wayne who gets the call. Just tell him it’s the road off of Highway 421 that leads to Ponderosa Pond. He’ll know where to find the car.” He nodded again. “I’m sure. Tell him to call this number if he has any problems.” He rattled off a phone number and handed the phone back to Tamryn.
“Uh...yeah,” Tamryn stammered. “Did you get all that?” The woman confirmed the directions and told her another rental car would be delivered by tomorrow morning.
“Thank you,” Tamryn said before hanging up. She turned to Matt. “And thank you. I’ve spent the past twenty minutes trying to explain where I left the car. I don’t know if you were going for your merit badge, but you’ve definitely earned it today.”
He held three fingers above his brow in the Boy Scout salute. Then he smiled again. It was slow and easy, and just a little bit devastating.
For several moments they just stood there staring at each other. Normally, she would have felt awkward, but for some reason, she didn’t. Maybe because it was hard to feel anything past the excited charge rushing through her bloodstream.
It was the dimples. The dimples were killing her.
“Thanks for bringing my bags,” Tamryn said, gesturing to the luggage, but not breaking eye contact. “You really didn’t have to do that. I’ve interrupted your day enough already.”
“It was a welcome interruption.” His eyes sparkled with a sexy mischief that did nothing to subdue the attraction she was trying to pretend wasn’t there. He paused for a beat, then asked, “Would you like to go to dinner?”
Tamryn’s head reared back slightly.
So he’s not a fan of subtlety.
“There’s dinner here,” she said.
Another flash of that smile. Tamryn was stunned at how readily it came, especially when she considered how unfriendly he’d seemed the few times she’d spoken to him on the phone. She liked this Matthew Gauthier a thousand times more than the one who’d thwarted her attempts to communicate for the past six months.
“I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with Phil’s cooking,” he said. He took a couple of steps toward her, reached forward and captured her wrist. He ran his thumb lazily back and forth over the pulse there, and for Tamryn, breathing suddenly became the most difficult thing in the world.
“However,” Matt continued, “I can think of a few other places where we can have a nice, quiet meal together. Maybe enjoy a glass of wine while you tell me what brought you to our cozy little town. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?”
Her entire being screamed yes, but thankfully, she still possessed the good sense to shake her head in the negative.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Tamryn said.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It’s been such a long day.”
And the last time she’d called him, he’d threatened to file harassment charges against her. She could only assume that the dinner invitations would not be forthcoming once he realized just whom he’d invited to dinner.
There was also the fact that all she really knew about him were the few tidbits she’d unearthed during her internet searches, and the fact that his ass looked spectacular in denim. And the dimples. Couldn’t forget about the dimples.
She couldn’t forget her purpose for being here, either. She’d come to Louisiana to work. She would love to sit down with Matthew Gauthier for a few hours and talk, but wine and candlelight dinners could not be a part of the equation.
“It just wouldn’t be a good idea,” Tamryn stated.
A touch of disappointment ghosted over his face, but then the smile returned. “You have had an eventful introduction to Gauthier,” he said. “Tomorrow, then? Or at least sometime before you leave town. My good deed warrants at least a dinner, doesn’t it?”
Her arms crossed over her chest, Tamryn cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t tell me there would be a price when you offered me a ride.”
His eyes, which she realized were a remarkable shade of hazel and green, sparkled with amusement. “You didn’t ask.”
She refused to let that smile affect her.
“What if I’m not willing to pay your asking price? Will you haul me onto that bike and drop me back in the middle of nowhere?”
“Won’t be necessary,” he said. “You’ll eventually agree to dinner.”
Her brow lifted. “You sound so confident.”
He didn’t answer, just continued to grin with that cocky self-assuredness as he backed out of the room.
Tamryn walked over to the door and continued to stare as he made his way down the hallway. He looked back at her, the overconfident grin still in place.
Oh, yeah. This would definitely be an interesting summer.
Chapter 2
Matthew Gauthier searched through the chaos cluttering his desk, lifting files and thumbing through mail that had lingered unopened for well over a week.
“Matt, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” he called in the direction of his cell, which lay on his desk in speakerphone mode. “Why didn’t you leave the papers with Carmen? You know she’s better at keeping track of things than I am.”
“Because you told me to leave them on your desk,” Benjamin Keller answered. “If you have a chance in hell of getting through this campaign successfully, you will have to get it together, Matt.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Matt ran across a file he’d been looking for last week, and underneath it found the forms his campaign manager had left on his desk. “I found them.”
“Thank God.” Ben’s sigh came through the phone.
Matt had made public his plans to run for the state-senate seat in his district some time ago, but had held off filing the paperwork until today. He would drive out to Baton Rouge this afternoon so he could officially file with the state.
“Log in to instant messenger,” Ben said. “I’m sending you a link to a YouTube commercial your future opponent’s camp released today.”
“Another one?”
Matt ran a hand down his face, cursing as he turned to his computer. He clicked on the link as soon as the message bubble popped up. The video began with a baby screaming at the top of his lungs and the words Little Matthew Gauthier just keeps whining in bold print across the bottom.
Matt’s blood pressure escalated as the commercial continued. It was the same old crap his opponent, Patrick Carter, had been spouting since the moment Matt made it known that he would run for the state-senate seat that had become available following a bribery scandal the former senator had become embroiled in. Carter was a career politician who was used to running unopposed for whatever public office he deemed worthy of his greatness. The man had held nearly every political seat there was.
In this latest ad, Carter attacked Matt’s age, claiming that at thirty-two, Matt was still too wet behind the ears to do any good for the people of District Twelve. But what really pissed him off was his opponent’s insistence that because Matt had been born into Gauthier’s wealthiest family, he couldn’t possibly understand the struggles the rest of the residents faced. He would not allow Carter to pull that silver-spoon-in-the-mouth bullshit on him.
“I’m not even officially in the race yet,” Matt said.
“He’s doing this because he knows you’re a threat,” Ben replied. “You know what this means, right?”
“Forget it, Ben.” Matt put his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples. “I already told you I’m not stooping to Carter’s level.”
“Dammit, Matt, when are you gonna listen to me? Politics is a dirty business. If you want to win this seat, you’ll need to sling some mud. Stop trying to be the stand-up candidate. That candidate never wins.”
“He will this time,” Matt said. “Don’t worry about Carter. The people here can see right through him.”
“Really?” Ben drawled. “If that’s the case, how has he been able to hold nearly every public seat in local government?”
Ben had a point.
Unable to come up with an adequate response to his campaign manager’s very valid argument, Matt said, “Be here at three so we can leave for Baton Rouge.” He ended the call with Ben and buzzed his office manager, Carmen Mitchell. “Carmen, can you get me the file for Mrs. Black’s case? I think the insurance company is about to cave.”
“Will do,” Carmen said.
Matt pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, luxuriating in a total-body stretch. It was just after 10:00 a.m., yet it felt as if he’d already put in a full day. He knew he should have started turning down cases when he’d made the decision to run for office months ago, but his was the only law practice in town. In fact, for more than a century and a half, the Gauthier Law Firm had been the only means for legal representation in a twenty-mile radius. How could he turn anyone away?
He thumbed through the messages Carmen had handed him when he’d come in this morning and ran across at least one person he was pretty good at turning away. He crumpled the green slip of paper with yet another message from that nosy Professor West and tossed it in the trash.
The woman had been the biggest pain in his ass for the past six months. Ever since it had been discovered that this building had once been a part of the Underground Railroad, she’d been calling and emailing, digging her nose in his business. If not for all the stationery he’d have to replace, Matt would have changed the office’s phone number.
He didn’t have time to concern himself with Professor West right now; he had more than enough to worry about. The first item on his plate was to bring some semblance of order to his desk. Carmen had straightened it out yesterday. If she came in and saw the mess he’d made, there would be hell to pay.
Matt did his best to get the files back in order. He opened the bottom drawer and retrieved a can of the energy drink he kept stashed in there. As he chugged half the can in one large gulp, he replayed the YouTube video again, his jaw clenching as he watched the ridiculous commercial.
Carter might have more years on him, but he was the exact opposite of what the people in this area needed. He was one of Leroy Gauthier’s old cronies. Matt’s father and Patrick Carter had had a falling-out years ago, but the two men were cut from the same cloth. Their way of thinking tended to provide more benefits for themselves than their constituents. It was time for a change in the way politics was played around here.
Carmen gave two short raps on the door before she entered the office, carrying a file.
“Thanks,” he said as he captured the beige folder she held out to him. His high-school English teacher, Mrs. Black, was suing the school system’s health-insurance company for lack of coverage. Matt wanted to read through the file again before his telephone call with the school board’s attorney.
He looked up at Carmen, who’d remained standing in front of his desk.
“Yeah?” Matt asked.
“You have a visitor,” she said. The smile tipping up the corner of her mouth sent a tremor of unease down his spine.
“Who is it?” he asked, hoping to God it wasn’t his father. Although his father would never wait in the lobby like a guest. He’d officially passed the Gauthier mansion on to Matt, but the old man still took ownership of this office. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t practiced law here since becoming an appellate-court judge in New Orleans several years ago.
“It’s Professor Tamryn West,” Carmen answered.
“What?” Matt shot out of his chair. “You’re kidding me.”
“I am not,” Carmen said. “Should I send her in?”
“No.” He came around the desk. “What the hell is she doing here? Doesn’t she teach somewhere up on the East Coast?”
“Boston,” Carmen answered. “The woman came all this way, Matt. You have to see her.”
“No, I don’t.”
Carmen gave him a look. He hated that damn look. It was the same look his mother used to give him when she thought he was being stubborn.
“Shit,” Matt cursed. “Send her in. But if she’s not gone in five minutes, you’d better make up some excuse and come rescue me, Carmen. I mean it.”
She laughed. “What are you so afraid of when it comes to this professor?”
“Nothing. I just don’t like people snooping around in my business.”
“Fine. But she traveled well over a thousand miles. The least you can do is give her ten minutes of your time.”
“Seven,” Matt countered. “If she’s not gone in seven minutes, I want you to bang on the door and yell fire.”
Carmen shook her head, still laughing.
Matt went around his desk and sat, then immediately sprang from the seat. He didn’t want to feel as if he was at a disadvantage when he faced an adversary. He went around to the front of the polished oak desk that had occupied this office for the past sixty years and perched against it, crossing his feet at the ankles.
Carmen knocked on the door and opened it. “Professor Tamryn West is here to see you,” she announced.
Matt’s stomach bottomed out as he stared at the woman who’d just walked into his office. “You have got to be kidding me.”
* * *
“You’re Dr. West?”
Tamryn just barely held in the laugh that was precariously close to spilling from her lips. The look of shock on Matthew Gauthier’s face was priceless.
The rest of him looked...amazing.
Yesterday’s jeans and black T-shirt had been the stuff of carefully choreographed fantasies, but this morning’s charcoal-gray suit, Tiffany-blue shirt and striped tie were fantasy-worthy in their own right.
“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Gauthier,” Tamryn said. She strode over to the desk that occupied the center of the vast office, stopping a couple of feet in front of him.
“Good morning,” he said with a note of apology, as if he’d been reprimanded for forgetting his manners. “You’re Tamryn West?” he asked again.
She nodded and extended her hand out to him. “Dr. Tamryn West, professor of African-American and women’s studies at Brimley College.”
He accepted her handshake, disappointment and disbelief clouding his face.
The office manager, who had introduced herself as Carmen, cleared her throat. “It looks as if my employer has misplaced his manners,” she said. “Can I offer you a seat, Dr. West?”
“Thank you,” Tamryn said.
“Yes, I’m...I’m sorry,” Matt said. He shook his head as if to clear it and gestured to one of the high-backed leather chairs. “Carmen, is there coffee?” He looked to her. “Would you like coffee?”
“I’m fine.” She waved off the offer.
“Well, I’ll leave you two,” Carmen said as she backed out of the office.
Matt’s brow dipped as he studied Tamryn for several moments before rounding the desk and settling into the chair behind it. The brown leather gleamed, but it was obvious from the many cracks and faded spots that it was well used. He picked up a pen, tapped it twice on a thick file folder and then tossed it onto the desk.
“I never put two and two together,” he said with a bemused shake of his head. “Even after you told me your name yesterday, I still didn’t make the connection.”
“I must admit that I didn’t recognize you right away, either,” Tamryn said. “In the few pictures I found of you online, you were always in a suit and tie, never on a Harley.”
“Ducati.”
“Excuse me?”
“My bike is a Ducati, not a Harley.” He waved it off. “Never mind.”
“Well, whatever the brand of motorcycle, I never pictured you on one. Coupled with the fact that I was beyond exhausted and frustrated, it isn’t all that surprising that I didn’t recognize you right off the bat.”
And in those few online pictures she had found, never once had he been smiling. If he had been, those dimples would have been a dead giveaway.
“But you did recognize me after a while?” Matt asked.
She nodded.
“Well, if you recognized me, why didn’t you say anything yesterday?”
Tamryn couldn’t contain her wry smile. She crossed her legs and folded her hands over her knee.
“You’ve spent the past six months avoiding me. I was afraid you would leave me out on the side of the road if you knew I was the professor you’ve been thwarting at every turn.”
An offended frown tugged down the corners of his mouth. “I never would have left you out there.”
Tamryn held her hands up. “Forgive me. That was a poor attempt at humor. I know you wouldn’t have left me stranded. Thank you again for coming to my rescue yesterday.” She tipped her head to the side. “You must admit it’s rather funny that the only person I have any knowledge of in Gauthier just so happened to be the one who found me. Either this town really is that small, or it’s an amazing coincidence.”
A hint of amusement flashed in his light brown eyes. “Maybe a little of both,” he said. “Believe it or not, I almost didn’t go for a ride yesterday. I decided at the last minute that I needed to clear my head and just hopped on the bike almost without thinking.” His penetrating gaze eased its way along her body. “It’s as if I was meant to find you.”
His voice resonated with meaning, evoking a shimmer of interest that cascaded along her exposed skin. Tamryn surreptitiously sucked in a breath as she straightened in her chair and damned her tingling spine to hell.
The laugh that escaped her throat was much huskier than she’d intended. “Interesting how that turned out, isn’t it?”
He nodded slowly, reclining in his chair. “Very.”
His stare was probing and filled with enough heat to sear her skin. Usually, being on the receiving end of such intense scrutiny would creep her out. This time it did the exact opposite.
Tamryn cleared her throat and twisted yet again in her seat.
“So, what brings you here?” Matt asked, folding his hands over those abs that her fingers already had intimate knowledge of. “I doubt you came all this way simply because I’ve been avoiding your calls.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re important to my research, but not that important.”
His brows lifted. “So you’re here doing research?”
“For the entire summer,” she answered.
He groaned and ran a hand down his face.
“How quickly that charm disappears when you put on a suit and tie. Maybe you should come to the office in a T-shirt and jeans.”
“Forgive me,” he said, straightening once again and running a smoothing hand down his tie. “If my old nanny were still alive, she would have plucked me on the ear for being so rude.”
“Happy to know I bring out the worst in you,” Tamryn teased.
“You just took me by surprise showing up here at my office,” he said. “Although, now that I think about it, I shouldn’t be surprised at all to see you in Gauthier. To say that you are persistent, Dr. West, is an understatement.”
“I can deal with being called persistent. I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m not sure I believe that. Now that I’ve met you, I can think of a dozen more appropriate adjectives that would apply.”
The lazy grin that traveled across his lips caused all manner of naughty things to stir within her belly.
This was so not what she had predicted when she’d imagined her first face-to-face meeting with Matthew Gauthier. Based on his evasiveness these past few months, she’d prepared herself for adversarial at best, but had been expecting downright caustic.
What she had not expected were those killer dimples or that smooth-as-butter voice. She surely had not anticipated having to practice keeping her heart rate at a reasonable level while in close proximity to him.
“What is it that led you to Gauthier?”
“I’m researching the Underground Railroad,” Tamryn answered.
“I know that from your many, many, many phone calls and emails,” he said, softening the veiled reprimand with another infectious grin. “But why make the trip all the way down here? There’s a professor at Tulane University who is working on this already. He’s put much of what he’s found online. You could have just connected with him and saved yourself a lot of time and money.”
“Actually, I’ve been in contact with Professor Lawrence since the discovery was made. I find the work he’s doing with his students fascinating, but this is something I need to see with my own eyes. My research is in a different vein from that of Professor Lawrence’s. I have a lot of my own questions.”
“I’ve hardly ventured to that side of the building since they started digging around over there,” he said. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but I won’t be much help.”
“How do you know how much help you’ll be? I haven’t asked any questions yet.”
He choked out a shocked laugh. “You haven’t asked any questions? What about those many, many emails?”
She waved him off. “That was just a little harmless digging.”
His eyes brightened with amusement. “Harmless, huh? Does that mean what you have next up your sleeve is going to cause me some real pain?”
There was a single knock at the door before it opened. The office manager poked her head in. “Excuse me,” she said.
Tamryn looked over at Matt just in time to see him subtly shake his head.
A knowing grin flashed across her face as she turned to the office manager. “Let me guess, he told you to come in and rescue him in ten minutes?”
“Actually, it was five,” the woman answered.
Matt shot her a bland look. “Thanks a lot, Carmen.”
“And I’m not rescuing you,” she said. “I wanted to make sure you have everything you need for the conference call on Mrs. Black’s case.”
“I do. Thanks.” He rose from behind his desk, buttoning his jacket. It fit his frame to perfection, molding to those muscular shoulders that had been displayed underneath his T-shirt yesterday. He rounded the desk and gestured with his head for Tamryn to follow. “I’m going to take Professor West on a short tour of the building so she can see the room that was unearthed last summer. If the attorney representing the school board’s health insurance calls early, please come get me. It took weeks just to set up this call.”
He held the door open. “After you,” he said to Tamryn.
She slipped past him, then waited for him to lead her down a somewhat narrow, paneled hallway. It was obvious that the building was old, but it was also well preserved.
“The room is still the equivalent of an archaeological dig site,” Matt called over his shoulder. “It’s been roped off since it was confirmed that it was an actual stop on the Underground Railroad. I doubt I’ll ever get my entire building back.”
“It’s not yours anymore,” Tamryn said.
He stopped and turned. “Whose is it?”
“This type of history belongs to everyone. You can’t claim ownership anymore.”
“But I can pay the property tax on it?”
“Consider it your small part in preserving the past,” she said.
He shook his head, his soft chuckle reverberating in the air around her. “You sure you chose the right field of study, Professor West? Maybe you should have been an attorney.”
“Never once considered law,” she answered. “History is my...passion.” Tamryn’s voice trailed off as she stepped into the darkened room, her eyes trained on the far wall, where another door was open, but cordoned off by several strips of yellow caution tape.
She walked slowly up to the entrance, her lungs constricting as she came upon the tiny room. Tamryn brought trembling fingers to her lips, willing herself to keep it together. She’d vowed she was not going to cry.
But how could she not be overrun with emotion? Her great-great-great-grandmother had likely been in this very room—not as a slave fleeing to the freedom that awaited in the North, but as a conductor, assisting others on the Underground Railroad. Everything she’d uncovered over the years that she’d spent researching Adeline West indicated that she had ushered hundreds of slaves out of this area.
“Are you okay?”
Tamryn jumped at Matthew’s softly struck question. She hastily wiped at the moisture dampening her cheeks as she turned and smiled up at him.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I guess I wasn’t prepared for how this would affect me.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and hunched her shoulders. “I’ve seen dozens of sites like this, and I’m always overwhelmed.”
The sound of footsteps tapping on the hardwood could be heard for a few seconds before Carmen appeared. “Matt, the school board’s attorney is on the line.”
He held his hand up. “I’ll be there in a minute, Carmen.”
“No, go ahead,” Tamryn said. “I appreciate the quick tour. I’ve spoken to Dr. Lawrence, and he’s invited me to join him when he returns.” She swiped at her cheeks again. “However, I would like to set up an interview with you.”
“Me?” His eyes widened. “Why me?”
“Well, you’re a Gauthier, for one thing. Your family founded this town.”
“The Gauthiers who founded this town died a long time ago, and unfortunately, I’m not what you would call a history buff. I won’t be able to tell you anything that you can’t find out on your own.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Tamryn said. “It all depends on the questions I ask. I’ll bet you know more than you think you do.”
He buried his hands in his pockets and sucked in an uneasy breath.
“Look, there was a pamphlet created for Gauthier’s anniversary celebration this past summer. Ask Carmen to put you in touch with Mya Dubois-Anderson. She’ll be able to tell you everything you need to know.”
“But—”
Carmen came to the door again. “Matt, do you want me to have the attorney call back in a half hour?”
“No,” he said. “I’m coming.” He turned back to Tamryn. “Sorry, but this is the end of the tour. Carmen will see you out.”
And with that he took off, leaving Tamryn with even more questions than she’d had when she first walked through the door.
Chapter 3
Matt ended the call with the school board’s attorney with a promise to see the man in court if he could not come up with a better settlement for Mrs. Black’s case. He could tell by the stunned silence on the other end of the line that the man had not expected a small-town lawyer to take such a hard line. Matt had encountered such attitudes more times than he could count over the years.
He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. As he listened to the faint gurgle of Heritage Park’s landmark wooden waterwheel churning a few yards outside his open window, one question continued to swirl around in his head.
Why?
Why had the woman he’d gone to bed dreaming about last night showed up in his office this morning looking like everything he could ever want...and everything he had been trying to avoid? This had to go down as the most ironic twist of fate in the history of all mankind.
He’d spent an unhealthy portion of last night coming up with various scenarios that would have him coincidentally showing up at Belle Maison. After a while, he’d decided that he didn’t have the time or patience for devising fake, coincidental meetings. The chemistry that had sparked between him and Tamryn yesterday made scheming unnecessary. He’d already made the decision to drive over to the B and B after work and extend another dinner invitation to its newest guest.
As of this morning, everything had changed.
Discovering that the beauty he’d rescued yesterday was the same woman who posed a significant threat to everything he held dear rewrote all the plans his overactive imagination had concocted. The moment he learned she was the same Tamryn West who had been digging into his family’s history, Matt knew any plans to pursue her were null and void.
Well, his brain knew it. He needed other parts of his body to get the memo.
Running a frustrated hand down his face, he checked the time on his computer just as his stomach let out a loud growl. Maybe if he’d fed it more than an energy drink this morning it wouldn’t be so angry with him.
Matt slipped his cell phone into his pocket and strode out of his office.
He rapped his knuckles on the door to the file room, where Carmen stood before an open cabinet drawer. “I’m heading to the bank and then over to Emile’s for a quick bite. You want anything?”
“Yes,” Carmen said, shutting the drawer with her hip and walking toward him. “I want to know what’s up with you and Professor West.”
Matt’s forehead creased in a frown as he followed her out of the file room. “There’s nothing up with me and Professor West.”
Carmen tossed the manila folder on the desk, then perched on the edge of it. “For a lawyer, you are a horrible liar, Matthew Gauthier.”
“I’m not lying. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that.” She pointed toward his office. “There was more chemistry in there than in the science lab at Gauthier High School. What’s going on with you two? Did you know she would be here?”
“Hell no. Didn’t you see how shocked I was to see her standing in my office?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and continued to stare at him. Carmen Mitchell had only been two years ahead of him in high school, but she’d become his father’s secretary right after she graduated, which meant she had more than a dozen years’ seniority over Matt at the Gauthier Law Firm. It was something she never let him forget, despite the fact that he was technically her boss.
Matt blew out a tired breath. “Okay, so I met her last night,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know who she was at the time. I was out for a ride on my bike and found her stranded with a car that had a busted radiator. She’s staying at Belle Maison. I brought her there, then went back for her bags.”
“And you didn’t realize she was the same Tamryn West who’s been calling here every week for the past six months?”
“How was I supposed to know she was the same woman? I had no idea what she looked like.”
“Oh, come on, Matt. I knew who she was the second she walked through the door. Haven’t you heard of Google?”
“I never thought to look her up online.” And he was sorry he hadn’t. He would have been better prepared to handle the shock he’d had when she waltzed through his door this morning. He sure as hell hadn’t visualized that when he’d pictured the professor who had been making a pest of herself all these months.
He’d taken torts with a Professor West back in law school, and whenever Tamryn West’s email popped up in his inbox, that was who he pictured. The wrinkle-faced, bald-headed white guy was the exact opposite of the woman who’d left his office a couple of hours ago.
“She’s even more gorgeous in person,” Carmen mused. “Maybe you should ask her to dinner.”
“Be real, Carmen.”
“What? You’ve been through all the single women in this town already.”
“First of all, I have not been through all of the single women in Gauthier. And second...” Matt released a sigh. “I already asked her to dinner last night. She turned me down.”
Carmen barked out a laugh. He didn’t join in.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t go out last night,” he reasoned. “It would have made things even more awkward this morning.”
“She’s always very pleasant when she calls. I still don’t get why you’re so stubborn when it comes to talking to her.”
“I don’t like people snooping in my business.” Carmen silently mimicked his words. Matt rolled his eyes. “Do you want anything from Emile’s?” he asked again.
“Only if they have bread pudding for dessert. Oh, wait a sec.” She reached for a parcel of envelopes on her desk and thumbed through them, handing one to him. “Give this to Theresa at the bank. She’ll know what to do with it.”
Matt took the envelope and left Carmen with a promise to return in an hour. He walked along Main Street, Gauthier’s central attraction. Despite the slight breeze that ruffled the purplish-pink petals of the saucer magnolia trees lining the street, the humidity had him wishing he’d left his suit jacket back at his office.
Like his family’s law practice, many of the other businesses along Main Street had served this small community for well over a century. Matt strolled past Cannon’s Dry Cleaner’s and the Gauthier Pharmacy and Feed Store on his way to Gauthier Bank and Trust. The bank had long been taken over by a larger regional chain, but after an uproar over plans to change the logo and remove the ornamental clock that had hung over the bank’s entrance for more than 150 years, the corporate offices had agreed to make an exception. The checks and debit cards had the chain’s name and logo, but the sign and clock out front remained the same.
He entered the bank and spotted Theresa Rushing behind the counter. He and Theresa had graduated together from Gauthier High School.
“Hey there, Matt. How’s the campaign going?” Theresa greeted.
“It hasn’t officially kicked off yet, but my opponent is already slinging some heavy mud.”
“That’s a good sign. It means he’s taking you seriously, which he very well should. Patrick Carter has been in office too long already. He’ll probably run for dogcatcher after you whip his butt in this election.”
“That’s probably the only seat he hasn’t held,” Matt agreed with a laugh. He handed over the envelope. “Carmen said you’d know what to do with this. And I want to deposit this into the Katherine Gauthier fund,” he added, slipping Theresa the money he’d drawn from his private equity account. He used his dividend checks to fund the account he’d set up in his mother’s name to sponsor various charitable projects around Gauthier.
“No problem,” she said. She cast a sly smile in his direction. “By the way, a very nice-looking woman came in asking about you not too long ago. If I wasn’t happily married, I would be jealous that some newcomer is scoping out Gauthier’s most eligible bachelor.”
Matt’s stomach dropped. “Was she wearing a red top and black skirt?”
“Yeah,” Theresa confirmed.
Dammit.
“What did she want to know?”
“Just stuff.” She shrugged. “Whether or not you’ve lived in Gauthier your entire life. How long you’ve been practicing law in your grandfather’s old building. Stuff like that. So.” Theresa raised her brows. “Is she someone special?”
“Yeah, a special pain in my ass,” Matt muttered. “Any idea where she went?”
“I think she said she was heading to Claudette’s.”
“Aw, shit.” Anywhere but the beauty parlor. “I’ll come back later for the deposit receipt. Or better yet, have someone bring it over to Carmen at the office.”
“No problem,” she called.
Matt quickly made it out of the bank and across the street to Claudette’s Beauty Parlor. He opened the screen door and was nearly bowled over by all the estrogen. He usually avoided this place at all costs, mainly because he’d dated two of the beauticians who worked here.
Dread crept up his spine as he spotted Tamryn sitting in one of the twirling salon chairs, her lean legs crossed. His gut clenched at the sight. It had done the same thing this morning when she’d assumed a similar position across from his desk.
“Well, look who’s here,” Claudette Robinson called, waving a comb at him.
“Hi, ladies,” Matt greeted.
Joelle Richardson gave him a wave from where she stood at one of the shampooing basins along the back wall, washing someone’s hair. Mariska Thomas grunted at him and rolled her eyes.
Things had ended amicably with Joelle. With Mariska, not so much.
“We were just telling Tamryn here about you running for state senate,” Claudette said.
“They sure were.” An amused glint lit up her eyes. “They also told me about your work with the Boys and Girls Club, and the scholarship you award at the high school, and the work you do with the elderly. You really are a Boy Scout, aren’t you, Matthew?”
“Everybody loves Matt around here,” Claudette chimed in.
There was another grunt from the station where Mariska was slathering cream in a customer’s hair and folding pieces of foil over it.
“Don’t mind her,” Claudette said. In a loud whisper she pointed a finger between Matt and Mariska. “They used to date. Didn’t end well.”
“Oh.” Tamryn’s eyes widened in what looked like genuine curiosity. That expression alone told Matt that he needed to get her the hell away from these wagging tongues as quickly as possible.
“Professor West, you mind if I talk to you outside?” Matt asked.
“Professor?” Claudette’s brows met her dyed hairline. “You didn’t tell us you were a professor.”
“I am.” Tamryn unfolded those stunning legs and stood. “I teach African-American history and women’s studies at a small liberal-arts college in Boston.”
“Well, well, well. How very fancy,” Claudette said. “I hope you enjoy your time in Gauthier. Stop by and see us again.”
“I’m sure I will,” Tamryn said as she slipped out the door Matt held open.
“What was that?” Matt asked as soon as they were outside.
“What was what?”
“Why are you going all over town asking about me?”
She put up a finger. “Okay, first of all, I am not going all over town asking about you. I’ve only been to the bank, the pharmacy and here.”
“That’s about all there is to Gauthier.”
“And second—” her voice held a hint of irritation “—may I point out that I wouldn’t have to go around asking about you if you’d just agree to an interview? I promise it’ll be painless.”
A nerve jumped in Matt’s jaw. He was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. He sure as hell didn’t want to answer any of her prying questions, but if she insisted on digging into his background, he wanted to stay on top of just what she uncovered. There were things about both him and his family that were better left buried, and Matt intended on keeping it that way.
If he agreed to let her interview him, he could give her just enough to satisfy her curiosity. Maybe then she would move on to something else.
“Fine,” Matt finally answered. “Why don’t I take you to lunch? I’ll answer anything you want to know.”
She gave him a cheeky smile. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Yeah, that was because the questions hadn’t started yet.
* * *
“I knew I should have started dieting the day I decided to spend my summer in Louisiana,” Tamryn said, using the crusty French bread to soak up some of the spicy shrimp étouffée. Her eyelids slid closed as she slipped the morsel between her lips, releasing a throaty moan.
Matt’s stomach clenched at the sound. So did the fingers he’d wrapped around his glass of iced tea, to the point where he figured he was in danger of shattering the glass. She’d been making those little noises throughout their meal. Sounds that, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine coming from something much more enjoyable than a simple lunch at Emile’s.
She expelled another satisfied sigh, then pushed the plate away. “No more. I can’t spare the extra calories.”
His eyes narrowed with his skeptical frown. “You’re joking, right?”
“Oh, how I wish.” She laughed, then hunched her shoulders in a hapless shrug. “What can I say? I love to eat. I’m counting this as my splurge meal for the week.”
Matt shook his head. The woman clearly worried about the wrong things.
From the moment he’d pulled his bike up to her smoking car yesterday, he hadn’t been able to get her shapely body out of his head. The sleeveless top and formfitting skirt she wore today weren’t helping.
Just picturing the way the slim black skirt conformed to her delicately curved hips and nicely rounded butt had his skin warming. She had the kind of legs you usually saw in lady-shaving-cream commercials, her calves toned and smooth. She stood about a half foot shorter than his own six feet three inches—just the right height. Their bodies would line up perfectly.
Whoa. That was an image he definitely didn’t need in his head right now. He was having a hard enough time getting his body under control, especially after sitting here for the past twenty minutes watching as Tamryn wrapped her plump lips around her fork and moaned in pleasure with each bite.
Matt couldn’t hold back his chagrin at the irony of it all. The woman he’d spent the past six months dodging every chance he could get was sitting across from him right now, eliciting the kind of wet dream–worthy fantasies he hadn’t experienced since high school.
Eyeing the plate, Tamryn said, “One more bite,” before picking up the fork and scooping up more étouffée. She shoved the plate away again and tossed her linen napkin over the remnants of her lunch. “Okay, I’m really done now.”
Matt lifted an amused brow. “You sure about that?”
“Yes. No more.” She picked up her pen and notepad. “So, you’ve worked in your family’s law practice since you finished law school?”
Matt squelched his disappointed sigh. He’d forgotten for a moment that, for her, this was a working lunch. If he used even an ounce of his common sense, he would accept that it should be the same for him. He’d already decided that any romantic interest in her was now off the table.
Although the longer he sat across from her, the harder it was to remember just why he could no longer pursue her.
“So?” she asked.
Matt straightened and blinked several times. “What?”
She sighed. “These questions are not that difficult, Mr. Gauthier.”
“It’s Matthew,” he said. “Or Matt. And forgive me for being difficult.”
“I didn’t say that you were being difficult. I said that these questions were not. But now that you mention it, you are being rather difficult.”
He grinned. “That’s what happens when you strong-arm someone into an interview they didn’t want to participate in.”
She choked out a shocked laugh. “Strong-arm? Look at you and look at me. There is no way I could strong-arm you into doing anything you didn’t want to do.”
He folded his arms on the table and leaned toward her. “You don’t need physical strength when you have that smile.”
Matt didn’t think it was possible for a person’s cheeks to turn such a deep shade of crimson so quickly. He had to suppress the instant, overwhelming urge to taste the demure smile that formed on her lips.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks still impossibly red, her face still impossibly gorgeous. She pointed to her notebook. “Can we get back to my list of questions?”
Suppressing his annoyance over her insistence on working, he made a circling motion with his hand. “Please proceed, Professor West.”
“It’s Tamryn,” she said. “And I asked if you’ve worked in your family’s law practice your entire career.”
“For the most part,” Matt answered, sitting back in his chair. “I clerked for the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans for a few years while still in law school.”
“Your father is on that court, isn’t he?”
“Yes. I guess you have done your research.”
She waved him off with a flick of her wrist. “I was able to find out everything I needed to know about your father with a two-minute internet search. Leroy Gauthier has made some interesting rulings during his first few years as an appellate judge.”
“If by ‘interesting’ you mean controversial, then yes,” Matt answered.
“I was trying to be tactful.”
Matt laughed. “Tactful and Leroy Gauthier. I doubt those words have ever been used together in a sentence before.”
The corners of her mouth dipped with a curious frown, and Matt could practically see the wheels turning in her head with questions he wasn’t up for answering.
“Anything else?” he asked. “You want to know about my mom? She died of cancer ten years ago.”
“I read that, too,” she said. “Her obituary was in the online archives of the local paper. I’m sorry about her passing.”
Matt did his best to pull off an unaffected shrug. “She was more than ready to go. She’d suffered for years.”
The suffering his mother faced during her short bout with ovarian cancer was probably nothing compared to the misery she’d endured at the hands of her neglectful, adulterous husband. But that was something he certainly wasn’t about to share with Tamryn West.
“I’m not really sure why you requested this meeting. It seems as if Google has told you everything you need to know.”
“I want to know the things that Google can’t tell me,” Tamryn said.
Matt fingered a petal on one of the 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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