Page 22 of Landry (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #7)

“I could stay with Ava here if you need to work today,” Landry offered. “I don’t think anyone will bother you during the daylight, and I can have Remy send some of the guys by to check on you periodically.”

Camille frowned. “No, it’s okay. I can close the shop.” She grimaced. “Oh, wait. I have an order I have to get out before noon.”

“Isn’t the fair today and tomorrow?” Landry asked. “There will be a lot of people in town, a lot of missed sales.”

“Shoot. The fair starts today. I have pralines, peanut brittle and a pie I want to enter in contests.”

“You have to go to the shop today,” Landry said. “If you don’t feel comfortable having me watch over Ava, do you have someone else you trust more?”

Camille shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just know you might have better things to do.”

“Nothing better than hanging out with Ava,” he said with a smile. “We can read books and play poker. She does know how to play poker, doesn’t she?”

Camille shook her head. “Sometimes, I wonder if you’re for real or just yanking my chain. No, she doesn’t know how to play poker.”

“We’ll remedy that gap in her education first thing.” Landry winked.

“Are you sure you want to watch a five-year-old all day?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I just worry about you.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll drive to the shop instead of walking, and I’ll close the doors a little earlier than usual.”

“When do you need to leave?” he asked.

“I have a couple of hours,” she said. “I need to bake my pie entry for the fair contest and stir up a batch of pralines and peanut brittle.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Camille shot a glance toward Ava. “As a matter of fact, yes. I could use some help stirring while I roll out the pie dough. Ava’s sleeping soundly. She should be all right.”

“Give me a minute to wash my face and put on a shirt,” Landry said.

Camille cocked her head to one side, her gaze sliding over him from tip to toe, making his blood heat and his pulse quicken. “I don’t know. It might be fun to have a topless assistant in my kitchen.”

He crossed the room, pulled her into his arms, careful of her mug of coffee, and kissed her soundly. “If you weren’t making entries for the fair, I’d gladly be your topless assistant. But we can’t have chest hairs in your pie filling.”

“Immediate disqualification,” she murmured, her lips barely touching his. “But worth it.”

Landry chuckled. “At this rate, you won’t have to worry about disqualification. You won’t have any entries in this year’s competition.”

“I’m thinking I don’t really care,” she pressed her lips to his.

“Mama?” Ava’s voice splashed cold reality on Landry’s growing desire. He quickly stepped back and turned toward the little girl on the bed.

Ava lay with her eyes closed. “Mama?”

“Yes, baby?” Camilla hurried to her daughter’s side, setting the mug of coffee on the nightstand. “I’m here.”

Her pretty blue eyes blinked open. “I’m thirsty.”

Camille helped her daughter sit up enough to drink from the plastic cup. Then Ava lay back on the pillow.

“Are you hungry?” Camille asked.

“No, ma’am,” Ava said, her eyelids sinking. “Sleepy.”

“That’s right, sweetie,” Camille said softly. “Sleep.”

Camille tucked the sheet beneath Ava’s chin and backed out of the room.

Landry followed. “Mind if I jump in the shower?”

“Not at all,” she said. “There are fresh towels in the cabinet. Use whatever soaps or shampoos you want.”

He touched her cheek. “I’d invite you to join me...”

“But I need to listen for Ava.” She leaned her face into his palm. “I promised myself I wouldn’t parade men through Ava’s life.”

“And here we are.” Landry nodded. “Got it. No PDA in front of Ava.”

Camille’s brow wrinkled. “PDA?”

“Public Displays of Affection, like this.” He bent to brush his lips across hers.

“And this.” He cupped the back of her neck and devoured her mouth in a kiss that moved him more than he cared to admit.

When he finally lifted his head, his thoughts and emotions were tumultuous. He needed to slow down or risk...

Risk what?

He stared down into Camille’s blue eyes, and it suddenly hit him.

He was falling for her. He’d spent his entire life avoiding emotional attachment to anyone but the brothers he fought with.

“I need—” he cleared his throat, “to shower. You need to bake a pie.” He stepped back, turned her around and nudged her toward the kitchen.

She took two steps and looked back at him, a frown creasing her brow. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, far from okay.

Her answering smile spread across him like a warm blanket.

Landry ducked into her bedroom for his shirt, shoes and wallet, then back across the hall to the bathroom.

He shucked his jeans, turned on the cold water and stepped beneath the shower’s spray.

He fully expected to see steam rise from where the cold water hit his hot skin.

For the next three minutes, he endured the cold shower, praying it would chill his libido and bring him back to his senses.

He couldn’t fall in love with this woman, or any other.

He wasn’t the kind of man who would do justice to any relationship.

Especially not the kind of man Camille and Ava needed.

The cool water chilled his desire yet instilled little clarity in his situation. Logic still warred with desire, losing the battle.

Landry dried off, put on the same clothing he’d worn the day before and left the bathroom. A quick check on Ava assured him that she was still asleep.

Back out in the hallway, he alerted Remy to the situation with Billy Ray. Remy assured him he’d have his guys on the lookout for the kid, keeping it on the downlow so as not to scare the boy away.

With the call complete, Landry turned toward the kitchen, both dreading working with Camille and excited to be with her again.

Being in her presence had such a bipolar effect on him.

Hot for her body yet chilled at how it could be if he were anything like his father.

He knew he shouldn’t spend so much time with her but wanted all the minutes in her company.

While his head said back off, his feet carried him into the kitchen and the magical effect she had on him.

For the next hour, he stirred saucepans full of sugar and water while Camille mixed the ingredients for pie pastry.

When the sugar water reached the desired temperature, she added the remaining ingredients to the sugar water. As the concoction thickened, she scooped spoonful after spoonful of the hot, sticky candy onto parchment paper to cool and harden.

As soon as she placed the last of the sticky solution on the paper, she returned to the dough. Within a few quick moments, she’d kneaded and rolled it out, making it perfectly thin and round before fitting it into a tin pie plate.

“How do you make it so uniformly thick?” he asked.

“Come here, and I’ll show you on the next one.”

He came to stand beside her.

She rolled a ball of dough in her flour-covered hands, then plopped it onto the pastry sheet. “Now, sprinkle a little flour on the rolling pin to keep it from sticking to the dough, then roll the pin over the dough in alternating directions until it’s the thickness you want.”

Landry sprinkled flour on the rolling pin, then pressed it onto the ball of dough. After a couple of passes, the lump of dough still didn’t look anything like the beautifully round pie crust Camille had crafted.

“Let me show you,” she said and covered his hands with hers, then leaned into the rolling pin at the same time as she leaned against him. Pass after pass over the dough only made Landry hot, bothered and ready to take her there on the counter, flour and all.

When the lump of dough had completely transformed into a perfectly rounded pie crust, Camille’s hands pulled away from his.

He left the rolling pin on the pastry sheet, pulled Camille into his arms and kissed her long and hard. When he had to come up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I never knew how sexy pie making could be.”

She laughed and pulled him in for another kiss, making him forget the time, the dough and everything but the woman in his arms.

A persistent ringing sound cut through the lusty haze, bringing him back to earth, the kitchen and the fact they weren’t moving the pies along to the finish.

Camille stepped out of his arms, searched the counter, found her cell phone and answered. “This is Camille.” She listened for a moment and then smiled. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Felton. Yes, it’s been at least a year since we talked last. I’m sorry, I’ve been busy with my candy store. How are you?”

Landry didn’t intend to eavesdrop on Camille’s phone conversation, but it was unavoidable as she didn’t leave the kitchen for more privacy.

He turned to the rounded pie crust still lying on the pastry sheet and folded it like he’d seen Camille do with the last, then carefully lifted it off the sheet, settling it into a second tin pie plate.

“What’s that?” Camille was saying. “Seriously? Destroyed the interior? What do you mean?” She listened for a few seconds. “They broke through the drywall and tore up the wood flooring? Was anyone hurt?” she asked, her tone tense.

Landry turned back to Camille and met her gaze.

“How long had it been empty?” Camille shook her head.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope the police find the vandals.

Are you going to be okay?” Camille nodded.

“Good. I’m glad your daughter is coming to stay with you for a while.

That is scary. I hate that happened to the house.

It was such a lovely place. Yes, ma’am, I will.

You take care of yourself. I’ll call you soon.

Bye now.” She ended the call and stared down at the cell phone. “What’s happening to this world?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That was Mrs. Felton, my next-door neighbor when I lived in New Orleans five years ago. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t kept in touch as well as I should. She called to tell me that the house beside hers had been vandalized two nights ago.”

“Was it being used as a meth house or for drug deals?”

“No,” Camille said. “It was a nice neighborhood. That’s the house I brought Ava home to from the hospital after she was born.

The people who bought it after the bank foreclosed on us lived there for the last four and a half years.

Apparently, they moved to Atlanta and had it up for sale.

No one was living in it at the time, and no one saw who did it.

” She looked up at Landry. “Who would go to the trouble of tearing through the walls and floors, destroying every room in the place? Why would they do such a thing?”

“What motivates arsonists to start fires?” Landry pulled her into his arms and held her. “Your neighbor is all right?”

Camille leaned her cheek against his chest and nodded.

“She was a bit shaken that something like that could happen right next door to her. She lives alone and is getting older.” She sighed.

“I feel awful for her. I feel awful for the house. I remember painting the baby’s room before Ava was born.

I wanted her room to be a happy place where she could learn and grow. ”

“She has a nice room here,” Landry said.

“We’ve been happy here. She has friends in the community and more aunts than she can shake a stick at.

” Camille straightened and gave Landry a determined smile.

“Thanks for the shoulder. But if I’m going to get my entries in today, I need to bake these pies and get at least one of them to the fair. ”

“Do you remember the address of your old house?”

Camille frowned. “Yes. Why?”

“I’d like to have our computer guy look into it,” he said.

“Do you think it has anything to do with whoever broke into my house last night?”

Landry shrugged. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt to have Swede do some poking around.”

Camille wrote the address on a piece of paper.

Landry snapped a photo of it and texted it to Swede. Was it yet another coincidence that Camille’s old house had been vandalized two days before her new house had been broken into?

Once again, he reminded himself there was no such thing as coincidence. Someone was looking for something, and they didn’t mind tearing down walls to find it.