Page 10 of Landry (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #7)

“I’ll leave you two to your walk,” Gisele said with a cocky tilt of one eyebrow. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Camille insisted.

Gisele tsked. “Such a shame.” Then she grinned and hurried toward her shop and the apartment where she and Rafael were living until renovations were done on their forever home.

Landry waited while Camille closed and locked the shop.

Suddenly nervous, Camille tried to fill the silence with, “You know it’s not necessary to walk us home. You were only supposed to stop by near sunset and check the locks.”

“Would you deny me the pleasure of taking a leisurely stroll through town and out toward the bayou. It’s a beautiful evening and will be even nicer with the company of two lovely ladies.”

“Wait.” Ava quickly shucked her backpack again and stuffed her doll and Fuzzy inside.

Landry helped her settle the pack on her back.

As soon as his hands were free, Ava took one of them and smiled up at the man.

Camille’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t tell her daughter to let go of the man’s hand without disappointing her. And, since he’d already parked his vehicle at her house, he had to go there to get it. Which meant she was stuck walking with him all the way to her little house on the bayou.

Stuck might be the wrong word, since she was pretty sure she’d enjoy walking with him more than she cared to admit. They could exchange pleasantries, talk about the weather and tell each other about their life histories.

Then Mr. Laurent would be reminded that he was only needed to check window and door locks, not get involved with the ex-wife of a convicted felon.

Yeah, any new relationship would be stopped cold in its tracks with that kind of revelation. Not that a relationship with Mr. Laurent was even a possibility.

When she’d divorced Richard, she’d sworn off any relationships with men, not just because she didn’t trust them. It was more a factor of not trusting her own judgment when it came to men. How could she have been so blind that she’d had no clue her husband was a thief?

As they started down Main Street, Ava reached for Camille’s hand. Every so often, her daughter would hold on tight, kick her legs out and swing between the two adults.

“She doesn’t seem to be worrying about last night’s trauma,” Landry observed quietly.

“Ava’s a very optimistic, kind and caring kid. She’s usually the one who takes care of other children and adults.”

“Like her mother?” Landry suggested.

Camille smiled down at her daughter. “She is a lot like me.”

“I look like you,” Ava said, confirming Camille’s suspicion that her little ears were taking in everything the adults were discussing.

Camille exchanged a knowing glance with Landry.

The man grinned down at Ava. “And you’re smart like your mother, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I can read, write my letters and add numbers.”

“Are you in school?” Landry asked.

“No, silly. It’s summer.”

“Ava starts kindergarten this fall.” Camille gave her daughter a sad smile. “I’ll miss having her hanging out at the shop, but I’m excited for her to make new friends and learn so many new things.”

“And they have a swing set on the playground, and monkey bars and a slide.” Again, Ava launched her feet into the air.

Camille leaned back and lifted her daughter at the same time as Landry, swinging her forward and back until she came to land on her feet.

“Must be nice to be so young and carefree,” Landry said, “where the highlight of your summer is fishing in the bayou and looking forward to going to school so that you can play on the incredible playground.”

“Uncle Alan said he’d take me fishing the next time he takes the boys,” Ava said.

“That’s what I heard,” Camille said. “Auntie Chrissy said you already know how to bait a hook.”

“I can put a worm on the hook better than any of the boys,” Ava said, puffing her chest out proudly. “And I dug the most worms out of the compost pile.”

Camille must not have hidden her grimace very well.

“You’ve never been fishing?” Landry asked.

She shook her head. “Neither one of us has.”

“But you live on the bayou. You could walk out your back door, drop a line and catch fish all day.”

“True,” Camille said. “But I don’t have a pole, wouldn’t know how to use it if I did, and I don’t like the distraction of fishing when alligators have been known to cross my backyard on more occasions than I care to count. Ava’s not allowed to leave the porch without me.”

“And you’ve really never been fishing?” Landry shook his head.

Camille pressed her lips together. “I know, it’s a travesty.

One I have to live with. You see, I was an only child to older parents.

By the time I was big enough to go fishing, my father had a stroke and couldn’t get around as easily, effectively ending my opportunity to spend time with him, dipping a hook in the water.

I could possibly teach myself how to fish, but what would I do if I caught something? ”

Landry’s lips twitched. “Do you like to eat fish?”

“I love the fried catfish they serve on Fridays at the Crawdad Hole,” she said.

“I’ve never cooked fish, though I’d be willing to learn.

The thing is, I’ve never particularly wanted to filet a fish.

” She shivered. “I’ve watched the deckhands on the charter boats do it for their customers at the marina. It looks messy and smells.”

Landry laughed out loud.

Camille liked the sound, but not that he was laughing at her. “I’d do it if I had to. If my life depended on it.”

Landry’s face grew sober. “I bet you would. You’ve been through a lot.”

Heat filled her cheeks. “Shelby and Remy told you?”

He nodded.

Camille’s gut knotted. “You must think I’m incredibly gullible,” she said softly.

“Not at all,” he said, giving her a crooked smile. “Maybe too trusting. But then, not many women would suspect their husbands of what yours was up to.”

“It kills me,” she said, careful to frame her words in a manner Ava wouldn’t know what she was talking about.

The girl was a sponge and too grown-up for her own good.

“We were together for three years. He didn’t admit to anything other than the event for which he was accused.

For all I know, he could’ve been doing what he was doing throughout our entire marriage.

” She shook her head. “I was too busy living the dream of being married, having a baby and thinking my life was perfect,” she snorted. “Boy, was I wrong.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what he did.”

“I blame myself for being too na?ve. For not noticing what was going on,” she said.

“Does she have anything to do with him?”

Camille’s hand tightened on her daughter’s. “Absolutely not. I had that written into the separation agreement.”

Landry nodded. “Probably for the best. How long was the sentence?”

“Ten years,” she said softly.

“Any chance of early parole?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve started a new life and don’t want to dwell on him or the past.”

“Understandable.” Landry nodded.

As they turned onto the driveway leading to her cottage, Camille said, “I’d invite you to have dinner with us, but it’s slim pickin’s. I was going to warm up frozen chicken nuggets and a can of green beans.”

“Not that I’m opposed to chicken nuggets and green beans, but I came hoping I could commandeer your kitchen.”

Camille frowned. “Commandeer my kitchen?”

“I brought all the ingredients to make gumbo. All I need is a pot to cook in and a stovetop.” Landry glanced at Camille. “Do you like gumbo?”

“I love gumbo,” Camille said. “I’ve only made it once, since it’s just the two of us. The recipe I followed made such a big batch that I gave it away to all my friends.” She gave him a skeptical look. “You cook?”

Landry shrugged. “A little. Living in the boarding house, I experiment on the others who are still living there. I like trying new recipes.”

“Did your mother give you a love of cooking?” she asked.

“No.”

“Did your father do much of the cooking in your family?” she asked.

His abrupt snort made her look his way. It was as if a shadow had passed over his face. “Neither of my parents cooked.”

“So, you taught yourself,” she said. “Not many men take the time to learn.”

“I like being self-sufficient.”

Camille nodded. “Me, too. However, running a candy shop and making my own candies takes up a lot of my time and creative cooking skills. Too often, the week gets away from me, or I’m too tired to stop at the grocery store for nutritious ingredients.

” She sighed. “Since you came prepared, you’re more than welcome to use my kitchen, pots and pans and anything else you might need.

It’ll be a nice change to have someone else do the cooking. ”

Richard had never offered to help. As far as he had been concerned, he’d brought home the paycheck. Everything else, including mowing the lawn, had been up to her.

“Ava, do you like gumbo?” Landry asked.

She nodded. “Gumbo sounds silly, like it should be made of gum. Don’t you think?”

“It is a silly name,” Landry agreed. “Your mom tells me you have a friend named Billy Ray.”

“I do,” Ava said.

“Would he like to have gumbo with us?” Landry asked.

Camille held her breath, wondering if Ava would own up to her friend being imaginary.

Her daughter shook her head. “Billy Ray is shy. He doesn’t like being around adults. But I’m sure he’d like a bowl of gumbo if I give it to him.”

“How old is your friend?” Camille asked.

“He’s ten years old,” Ava answered. “His birthday was a few days ago. I made him a card and painted a rock for him.”

“When do you see Billy Ray?” Landry asked.

“Whenever he comes to visit.” Ava kicked her feet into the air. “I hope he comes tonight. I have a lollipop for him.”