storms in Baton Rouge, too.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he was too smart to argue, which only cemented her belief that Carter Trahan read people very well.
“I’ll check in sometime tomorrow, depending on what my work schedule allows.”
“I’m not going anywhere except into Calais for refrigerated items and, if I get ambitious, some home improvement supplies.”
He gave her a single nod and slipped out the front door and into the storm.
Alaina locked the door behind him, then leaned back against it and blew out a breath. So many thoughts were competing for space in her head that it felt as if it would explode. It was time to get a grip.
The utter devastation of the case that had gone all wrong, losing the partnership to an idiot, the memories of this house that she’d never expected to return, the spooky house and strange caretaker... It was all jumbled together in her mind, jockeying for position and leaving her confused and exhausted.
It was no wonder she’d practically thrown herself at a sexy man. So far, Carter was the only thing about her life that seemed normal. Her intense reaction to him must be because of all the stress and anxiety she was feeling about all the other things.
At least that was what she told herself.
Chapter Seven
Carter took off around the driveway, the truck’s tires spinning on the wet stone. He let off the accelerator enough for the tires to grip and then sped away from the house as fast as his field of vision allowed in the downpour.
What the hell had he been thinking?
He’d spent a good ten minutes with William that evening, denying that he had any interest in taking up with a woman. Then at first opportunity, he’d made a move on the worst choice of women in a hundred-mile radius.
Alaina LeBeau was beautiful and her body would make sculptors weep, but she was prickly, inconsistent and abrupt. Even worse, she was off balance and a bit fearful. He had no business taking advantage of her questionable emotional state and no desire to risk the fallout when the fear was gone and she realized exactly what she’d done. He had no doubt that if they’d finished what they’d started, she wouldn’t have appreciated it tomorrow morning.
He probably would have appreciated it a little too much.
Which was why beginning right now, he was all business with the heiress. If he felt even a twinge of faltering, he’d just repeat “she’s an attorney” over and over again in his mind. If that didn’t squelch any amorous feelings, nothing would.
As he made his way down the gravel road that led to his house, he saw lights on in his mother’s kitchen. He had no reason to stop—well, other than his mom often made chicken and dumplings on Thursdays—but he turned the steering wheel and pulled his truck under the carport next to his mother’s ancient Cadillac.
The gap from the carport to the back door was only a couple of feet, but Carter was still drenched by the time his mother opened the door to let him in.
“Good heavens,” she said, and hurried to the laundry room, then returned with a clean towel. “What in the world are you doing out in this storm? I swear, sometimes I think I didn’t do such a good job raising you.”
Carter took the towel and dried off, trying not to think about the last time he’d been in a situation with a towel and a wet body. The whole point of stopping at his mother’s house was to put his thoughts back into perspective.
The smell of chicken broth wafted by, making his mouth water. “Your chicken and dumplings are worth getting a little wet.” He grinned and handed her the towel.
She shook her head, but he could tell she was pleased with the compliment. “Sit down, then,” she said as she carried the towel back to the laundry room. “I’ll fix you a bowl.”
She scooped him a huge serving of dumplings into a bowl and placed it in front of him along with a beer. “You look like you could use a drink, but William had the last of my
He didn’t look convinced, but he was too smart to argue, which only cemented her belief that Carter Trahan read people very well.
“I’ll check in sometime tomorrow, depending on what my work schedule allows.”
“I’m not going anywhere except into Calais for refrigerated items and, if I get ambitious, some home improvement supplies.”
He gave her a single nod and slipped out the front door and into the storm.
Alaina locked the door behind him, then leaned back against it and blew out a breath. So many thoughts were competing for space in her head that it felt as if it would explode. It was time to get a grip.
The utter devastation of the case that had gone all wrong, losing the partnership to an idiot, the memories of this house that she’d never expected to return, the spooky house and strange caretaker... It was all jumbled together in her mind, jockeying for position and leaving her confused and exhausted.
It was no wonder she’d practically thrown herself at a sexy man. So far, Carter was the only thing about her life that seemed normal. Her intense reaction to him must be because of all the stress and anxiety she was feeling about all the other things.
At least that was what she told herself.
Chapter Seven
Carter took off around the driveway, the truck’s tires spinning on the wet stone. He let off the accelerator enough for the tires to grip and then sped away from the house as fast as his field of vision allowed in the downpour.
What the hell had he been thinking?
He’d spent a good ten minutes with William that evening, denying that he had any interest in taking up with a woman. Then at first opportunity, he’d made a move on the worst choice of women in a hundred-mile radius.
Alaina LeBeau was beautiful and her body would make sculptors weep, but she was prickly, inconsistent and abrupt. Even worse, she was off balance and a bit fearful. He had no business taking advantage of her questionable emotional state and no desire to risk the fallout when the fear was gone and she realized exactly what she’d done. He had no doubt that if they’d finished what they’d started, she wouldn’t have appreciated it tomorrow morning.
He probably would have appreciated it a little too much.
Which was why beginning right now, he was all business with the heiress. If he felt even a twinge of faltering, he’d just repeat “she’s an attorney” over and over again in his mind. If that didn’t squelch any amorous feelings, nothing would.
As he made his way down the gravel road that led to his house, he saw lights on in his mother’s kitchen. He had no reason to stop—well, other than his mom often made chicken and dumplings on Thursdays—but he turned the steering wheel and pulled his truck under the carport next to his mother’s ancient Cadillac.
The gap from the carport to the back door was only a couple of feet, but Carter was still drenched by the time his mother opened the door to let him in.
“Good heavens,” she said, and hurried to the laundry room, then returned with a clean towel. “What in the world are you doing out in this storm? I swear, sometimes I think I didn’t do such a good job raising you.”
Carter took the towel and dried off, trying not to think about the last time he’d been in a situation with a towel and a wet body. The whole point of stopping at his mother’s house was to put his thoughts back into perspective.
The smell of chicken broth wafted by, making his mouth water. “Your chicken and dumplings are worth getting a little wet.” He grinned and handed her the towel.
She shook her head, but he could tell she was pleased with the compliment. “Sit down, then,” she said as she carried the towel back to the laundry room. “I’ll fix you a bowl.”
She scooped him a huge serving of dumplings into a bowl and placed it in front of him along with a beer. “You look like you could use a drink, but William had the last of my
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