Read Online Marisa Carroll - Hotel Marchand 09 by Her Summer Lover - Free Book Online

sure.” She might be only seven but she had her big brother’s number when it came to getting himself a set of wheels.
    “Dad—”
    “Knock it off, you two. Thanks for looking out for your sister’s welfare, son. But you won’t be sixteen for another three months. Time enough to talk about getting a car in the spring.”
    Guy opened his mouth, then thought better of what he was going to say and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got conditioning. Can you drop me off at home so I can get my gym bag?”
    “I suppose.” He’d been headed that direction for an end-of-shift patrol of the neighborhood, anyway.
    “I’ll wait in the truck.” Guy hunched his shoulder and gave Sophie an apologetic smile. “It was nice meeting you, but I need to get out of here. I feel like I’m going to break something every time I move in this place.”
    Sophie laughed out loud. She couldn’t help herself. He really did look afraid to move an inch from where he was standing. Suddenly she remembered how it felt to be not-quite-sixteen and suddenly at odds with your body. “I agree there are a lot of booby traps in this place. I should probably do some rearranging—make it easier for the customers to move around. What do you think?”
    “I think it’s a good idea.” He cast a wary eye around the overcrowded space. “A real good idea.”
    “I’ll consider it. If I can find some help.”
    Guy glanced at his father. “I help out at the B&B sometimes. Mr. Carter could vouch for me. And I…I know a couple of guys who are good at moving furniture. We work pretty cheap.”
    “I’ll remember that.” She held out her hand once more. “Goodbye, Guy. It was nice meeting you, too.”
    He shook her hand, gave his father a half wave, half salute and loped out the door. While Sophie and Guy were talking, Dana had let go of her father’s hand and wandered farther into the store. “I don’t feel like I’m going to break anything,” she said, running her fingers over a ratty-looking fox stole draped over the back of cane-bottomed chair. “I like this place just the way it is.”
    “Guys are different than girls, I keep telling you that,” Alain said. Amusement mingled with a hint of exasperation laced his words.
    “Maybe.” Dana shrugged. It was obvious to Sophie that she wasn’t ready to admit the fact. “I like old things.”
    “I do, too,” Sophie replied. The little girl studied her closely.
    “You do?”
    “But I don’t know as much about them as Nana Maude did,” Sophie confessed. She resisted the urge to move closer to Alain’s—and Casey Jo’s—daughter. It was probably better if she kept her distance from the child.
    “She used to tell me stories about the opera house and how it was a hospital during the Civil War when I came here with Mamère Yvonne.” The corners of Dana’s mouth turned down and her eyes darkened to the color of the slow-moving bayou when it passed beneath a live oak tree. “ Mamère is sad that Miss Maude died.”
    “They were very good friends. I miss her, too. She was my Nana.” Sophie dropped to her knees on the dusty floor, forgetting, almost as quickly as she’d made it, her promise to herself to keep her distance from Alain’s daughter.
    Dana nodded solemnly. “ Nana means godmother. I’m learning Cajun from my dad.” She reached out and patted Sophie’s hand as softly as she’d patted the ratty fox stole. “ Mamère is sad but she said that Miss Maude has gone to Heaven to be with Jesus and the saints and martyrs and her mama and papa. She will be happy there.”
    “That’s true. Thank you for reminding me. I’ll try and remember that when I’m missing her.”
    “Good. Can I go look at the stuffed animals?”
    Sophie stood up, gazing around in genuine puzzlement. “Stuffed animals? I have no idea where they might be.”
    “Over here.” Dana slipped along a corridor of glass cases, heading for a huge mahogany armoire in a shadowy back corner of the room.