Read Online BayouBabe99er (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Mickie Sherwood - Free Book Online
Authors: Mickie Sherwood
Tags: Romance
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“It’s Moot!”
Sharlene turned. A half-dressed Drake stood in the middle of the gathering room. He’d donned nothing but his trousers that still had the belt buckle dangling. He didn’t make another move.
“Get her to the store, boy.”
Clyde was off the porch by the time Drake pushed the door from Sharlene’s hand. He wrapped her up from behind. His grasp brought her fingers to his lips. That spurred her to flee and him to give chase to hurriedly dress for the departure.
Chapter Eleven
“What in the name of heaven?”
A flurry of activity met their eyes as Drake bypassed the store in search of a parking place. There were none to be had as people swarmed all out into the street. He decided to double-park right in front of Clyde’s. Sharlene was out in the storm that continued to roar. Drake brought up the rear, maneuvering her in and out of the maze of people with an arm over her shoulders.
“It’s a media frenzy,” she declared, ducking a time or two to avoid the cameras.
Sharlene burst into the store and hustled on over to where Clyde sat manning the mobile radio. The scratchy transmission was loud enough to cause pain to the eardrum. Yet the jargon was too unclear to decipher. He looked up at her.
She dashed water from her face. “Uncle Moot?” Her voice was hopeful.
“He came tru’ clear as the day was bright early on, askin’ for you. Now, I can’t raise him.”
“What happened, Mr. Clyde?” Drake’s agitated demeanor was pronounced when he stepped nearer. His eyes zoomed in on something on the rear dock. Correction. He zoomed in on someone on the rear dock.
Her gaze swung to him.
The suspicious look she laid on him was telling. Drake saw all the barriers dismantled by the quality time they spent in one another’s arms quickly reassembling. He knew the instant her emotions shut down. He no longer held any importance in her life, if ever he began to, except for being the enemy’s mouthpiece.
“Why are they here?” She looked from him to Clyde for an answer.
The store proprietor spoke up. “See them fellas over ther’?” He pointed to the deli corner of the store. “Moot’s fares.” Sharlene stared at the two shivering strangers. “Back ther’.” His head beckoned to the oil company’s public relations team. “Rescue boat was theirs.”
Sharlene was confused. “Rescue boat?”
Clyde offered what he knew of the continuing saga. “The storm came up out of the blue. No small craft warnings at all. Caught the BayouBabe six hours out. Around a rig being evacuated.” He paused to give Sharlene time to digest his story. The tale created a crack in Drake’s aloof façade. “Big waves rocked the boat. According to them, the pumps stopped working. The Babe listed starboard.”
She closed her eyes tightly and gulped. “Uncle Moot’s—”
“No, Sha!” He jumped to stop such talk. “You know Moot. He gon’ bring his Babe in.” Clyde and Drake shared a conspiratorial look. “That’s all. Found you in the swamp against the odds, didn’t he? Gon’ find his way home, too.”
“Excuse me.” All three swiveled to face the two stragglers rescued from Moot’s boat, who now huddled under blankets. One asked, “Are you Skeeter?”
“I am.”
Drake took in how her spine straightened, like she wore the nickname with pride.
“Moot asked us to see that you got this,” the other said while lifting a chain over his balding head.
Sharlene accepted the chain from which hung a key. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind what it opened. “How was he when you last saw him?”
“Determined.” The one speaking sought confirmation from his companion, receiving it in the form of a headshake.
“That’s a Mouton for you,” she interjected.
Drake leaned in. “I’ll be right back.”
She gave him her back, mumbling, “Don’t bother.” Her eyes swept the room. Cameras, with their white lights, blinded her before she had time to blink. The next thing she knew, a
Sharlene turned. A half-dressed Drake stood in the middle of the gathering room. He’d donned nothing but his trousers that still had the belt buckle dangling. He didn’t make another move.
“Get her to the store, boy.”
Clyde was off the porch by the time Drake pushed the door from Sharlene’s hand. He wrapped her up from behind. His grasp brought her fingers to his lips. That spurred her to flee and him to give chase to hurriedly dress for the departure.
Chapter Eleven
“What in the name of heaven?”
A flurry of activity met their eyes as Drake bypassed the store in search of a parking place. There were none to be had as people swarmed all out into the street. He decided to double-park right in front of Clyde’s. Sharlene was out in the storm that continued to roar. Drake brought up the rear, maneuvering her in and out of the maze of people with an arm over her shoulders.
“It’s a media frenzy,” she declared, ducking a time or two to avoid the cameras.
Sharlene burst into the store and hustled on over to where Clyde sat manning the mobile radio. The scratchy transmission was loud enough to cause pain to the eardrum. Yet the jargon was too unclear to decipher. He looked up at her.
She dashed water from her face. “Uncle Moot?” Her voice was hopeful.
“He came tru’ clear as the day was bright early on, askin’ for you. Now, I can’t raise him.”
“What happened, Mr. Clyde?” Drake’s agitated demeanor was pronounced when he stepped nearer. His eyes zoomed in on something on the rear dock. Correction. He zoomed in on someone on the rear dock.
Her gaze swung to him.
The suspicious look she laid on him was telling. Drake saw all the barriers dismantled by the quality time they spent in one another’s arms quickly reassembling. He knew the instant her emotions shut down. He no longer held any importance in her life, if ever he began to, except for being the enemy’s mouthpiece.
“Why are they here?” She looked from him to Clyde for an answer.
The store proprietor spoke up. “See them fellas over ther’?” He pointed to the deli corner of the store. “Moot’s fares.” Sharlene stared at the two shivering strangers. “Back ther’.” His head beckoned to the oil company’s public relations team. “Rescue boat was theirs.”
Sharlene was confused. “Rescue boat?”
Clyde offered what he knew of the continuing saga. “The storm came up out of the blue. No small craft warnings at all. Caught the BayouBabe six hours out. Around a rig being evacuated.” He paused to give Sharlene time to digest his story. The tale created a crack in Drake’s aloof façade. “Big waves rocked the boat. According to them, the pumps stopped working. The Babe listed starboard.”
She closed her eyes tightly and gulped. “Uncle Moot’s—”
“No, Sha!” He jumped to stop such talk. “You know Moot. He gon’ bring his Babe in.” Clyde and Drake shared a conspiratorial look. “That’s all. Found you in the swamp against the odds, didn’t he? Gon’ find his way home, too.”
“Excuse me.” All three swiveled to face the two stragglers rescued from Moot’s boat, who now huddled under blankets. One asked, “Are you Skeeter?”
“I am.”
Drake took in how her spine straightened, like she wore the nickname with pride.
“Moot asked us to see that you got this,” the other said while lifting a chain over his balding head.
Sharlene accepted the chain from which hung a key. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind what it opened. “How was he when you last saw him?”
“Determined.” The one speaking sought confirmation from his companion, receiving it in the form of a headshake.
“That’s a Mouton for you,” she interjected.
Drake leaned in. “I’ll be right back.”
She gave him her back, mumbling, “Don’t bother.” Her eyes swept the room. Cameras, with their white lights, blinded her before she had time to blink. The next thing she knew, a
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