Easy Charm by Kristen Proby
“We just finished cleaning all the rooms,” Sam says as he climbs another set of stairs.
“You clean this whole place yourselves?”
“No,” Gabby replies with a smile. “I hire two women to come in daily to freshen the rooms and bathrooms. I am the inn keeper, and the cook.”
“I’m helping clean to pay off the window,” Sam informs me and opens a door. “And this is your room.”
“This is the Loraleigh room,” Gabby says as she points to the sign beside the door and hands me a key. “Each suite is named after a different woman from the family, and has a unique scent and décor.”
“Where is the Gabby room?” I ask.
“Ancestor women,” she clarifies. “The bathroom is through there. This is how you adjust the temperature. If you need anything, let us know.”
“Let’s go play catch!” Sam exclaims.
“Hold it,” Gabby replies before I can say anything. Watching her with her son is fascinating. “Rhys is our guest, and he’s had a long trip. So we are going to let him be, Samuel Beauregard. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods and turns his big brown eyes to me. “Sorry, sir.”
“How about if we play catch later?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I need to practice, and I could use a practice partner,” I reply and smile.
“Yes!” Sam high-fives me, then runs down the stairs.
“Really, Rhys, I don’t expect you to indulge my son. He’s just really excited that you’re here.”
“He’s a good kid.”
Her smile brightens as she looks out the door where Sam just left. “He’s the best.” She clears her throat and steps out, pulling the door closed behind her. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When she’s gone, I drop my bag on the bench at the end of the bed and turn a circle, taking it all in. The king-sized bed is covered in a blue quilt, obviously hand-sewn long ago. The furniture is dark brown and heavy. Wide windows are open and look out of the front of the house to the line of old oaks. The shade from the trees has kept the room cool, and a breeze is blowing through.
I saunter into the bathroom and whistle through my teeth. The floor is tile, the shower is big enough for four, and the copper tub in the corner is going to be my very best friend when my shoulder is aching after a workout.
I flop on the bed and let out a long sigh, for the first time in what feels like a long time and let my heavy eyelids fall closed, just for a minute. It’s quiet here. Every once in a while I can hear Sam’s voice float through with the breeze and his mother’s soft response. Birds are singing.
I roll onto my side, and wince when a wrong movement sends a zing through my shoulder, reminding me why I’m here.
To heal. To strengthen my shoulder and get back to work.
Not to think about a certain sexy inn keeper.
***
Bacon. I smell bacon. I bolt upright on the bed and gaze about, completely disoriented.
I’m at the inn. In Louisiana.
Did I sleep all damn day and night?
I frown and check my watch. No, it’s only noon.
But I smell bacon. And I’m hungry as fuck.
I descend the stairs, still half asleep, and glance into a large dining room with several small tables and chairs scattered about the room rather than one large table. It’s empty.
I follow my nose to the kitchen and stop short at the magnificent view of Gabby bent over at the waist, looking in the oven, giving me a prime view of her perfect little ass.
“Can I help?” I ask, startling her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh, there’s always someone coming up behind me,” she replies and pulls a tray of sizzling bacon from the oven. “I’m making BLTs for lunch. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good. I made homemade potato salad too.” She turns away to dig in the fridge and I don’t think I’m starving for food anymore.
I’d rather feast on the gorgeous woman standing in this kitchen. Boost her up on the countertop, lay her back, and make her moan my name until she can’t remember her own anymore.
Which isn’t ever going to happen, so I shake the thought from my head and take a seat on a stool, watching Gabby bustle about assembling sandwiches and scooping salad.
“Tell me about yourself,” I say, surprising myself.
“My name is Gabby, and I’m an inn keeper.”
“Tell me more,” I say dryly.
She frowns and licks some potato salad off her thumb, bringing my cock to full-alert.
“I’m not sure what you want to know.”
“I’m just making small talk,” I reply and sigh in ecstasy when she hands me a plate full of delicious food.
“Well, there’s not much to tell,” she says and takes a bite of her own sandwich.
“Hobbies? Interests? That sort of thing.”
“The inn and my son are my interests,” she replies and sends me a look that says back off.
So I do.
For now.
“Is it possible for me to set up a makeshift gym?” I ask, changing the subject.
“What do you need?”
“Just a bit of space, and some shade. I don’t want to cook in the sun.”
She thinks it over and takes a bite of salad. “I have an empty barn at the back of the property. We just emptied it out a few weeks ago. You could probably use that.”
“Perfect.”
***
“Did you know that it’s almost impossible for a human to lick their own elbow?” Sam asks me the next morning as he holds a rope for me. He’s been helping me in the barn this morning, getting it set up for my work outs.
“I bet that’s not true.”
“It is! Look.” He bends his elbow and tries, unsuccessfully, to lick it. “See?”
“You proved me wrong,” I reply and hand the end of a rope ladder to Sam. “We’re going to lay this flat on the ground.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to jump over the ropes.”
“Like hopscotch?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Okay.” He shrugs and helps me spread out the ladder. “Did you know that a shrimp’s heart is in its head?”
“I’m learning all kinds of things from you today.”
He smiles proudly and adjusts the Cubs hat on his head. “Mom says I’m pretty smart.”
“I’d say she’s right.” I check the time and lead Sam out of the barn. “Let’s go back to the house.”
“Okay.”
The walk doesn’t take us long, but we’re both sweaty and thirsty when we reach the house. Gabby is in the kitchen, kneading something in a bowl. She has flour on her cheek, her hair piled on her head, and a frown on her pretty face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and lean my hands on the countertop.
“Yeah, Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just making the dough for tomorrow morning’s cinnamon rolls.”
My mouth immediately salivates. This woman can cook. Her biscuits and gravy this morning made my stomach weep with joy.
“Mom, can I go to Stanley’s?”
“No.”
“Can I go see if Uncle Beau’s home?”
“He’s at work, baby.”
Sam’s face falls, but I can’t stop watching Gabby. She looks tense. Something is on her mind.
“Can I go hit some balls around the back yard?”
“Sam, I love you, but you’re getting on my last nerve. Go read a book or something.”
“I’m going into the city to have lunch with Kate. I can take him with me.”
“Yes!” Sam exclaims.
“That’s not necessary.” Gabby shakes her head. “But thank you for the offer.”
“It’s really fine,” I reply. “He’s welcome to come.”
“Can I ride in your cool car?”
“Sur
“No.” Gabby stops kneading her dough and stares at me with frustration. “No offense, but I hardly know you. Do you think I’m going to let you take my kid into the city?”
Without replying, I pull my phone out of my pocket, dial Kate’s number, and with my eyes holding Gabby’s, wait for Kate to answer.
“Do not cancel on me today.”
“I need you to tell Gabby that I’m not a kidnapper, and if I bring Sam with me to lunch today that he’ll be perfectly safe and well cared for.”
Without waiting for Kate to reply, I hold the phone out to Gabby. Sam is silent as he watches the exchange between us. Gabby chews her lip for a second, then sighs and jerks the phone from my grip, and turns her back on me when she says hi to Kate.
I wink at Sam, who winks back at me and smiles that toothless smile.
“Kate, he didn’t need to interrupt you—” She stops and chuckles. “I can imagine. You’re kidding! That’s funny. Okay. If you’re sure. Sam will be excited to see you and Eli too.”
Sam silently pumps his fist in the air triumphantly.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
She hands the phone back to me, which I click off and shove back in my pocket.
“Better?”
“You can take him.”
“Thanks, Mom!” Sam launches himself into Gabby’s arms and kisses her cheek. “You’re the best!”
“Yeah, yeah.” She eyes me with the scary eyes of a stern mom. “You drive safely. Seat belts at all times. Got it?”
“Of course. Does he need a booster seat?”
“I’m not a baby!”
“No, not in Louisiana,” Gabby says with a smile. “He’s too old for that now.”
“Are you ready, Sam?”
“Let’s go!”
He runs out of the house, toward my car, and I stop in front of Gabby and tilt her chin up to look me in the eyes. “We’ll talk later about what’s bothering you.”
She raises a brow. “You’ll be careful with my son and mind your business.”
I tuck her hair behind her hair and grin as I walk away.
“Challenge accepted.”
Chapter Two
~Gabby~
“Challenge accepted,” I mimic after Rhys closes the door behind him. What is up with all of the damn testosterone-flexing men in my life?
And Rhys has more testosterone to fling around than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s super tall, I’d say just a couple inches shorter than my brothers’ six-foot-four, which puts him more than a foot taller than me. His eyes aren’t simply green. They’re bright green, giving the grass a run for its money.
If grass had money.
I punch my fist into the bowl of dough.
As if the eyes weren’t enough, he has that damn cocky half-smile thing working for him that I’m sure reduces most mortal women into a puddle of goo at his feet.
Not this woman.
I mean, sure, he’s hot, and when he tucked my hair behind my ear, just the brush of his fingertips sent heat searing down my spine.
But that’s just because I don’t even remember the last time a man that I wasn’t related to touched me.
And that’s just damn sad.
“More like pathetic,” I mutter and give the dough another punch before covering it and setting it aside to rise.
And this morning at breakfast, he devoured my biscuits and gravy, that sexy, square jaw flexing as he chewed, and he listened to Sam. He didn’t just indulge him and pretend to be interested in what he was saying, he was interested. He’s polite and sweet and sets my libido on fire.
And now I have a sexy, single man living under my roof for God knows how long, being nice to my son, tucking my hair behind my ear, and I’m going to die from sexual frustration.
Because there’s no way I’m having sex with Rhys O’Shaughnessy.
Not that he’s likely to ask me. This is the famous baseball player we’re talking about. He probably has a piece of tail in every city.
And damn if the feminist in me isn’t more than a little pissed that I called them a piece of tail.
I laugh at myself and wander through the empty inn. It’s rarely empty these days, which is great for business, and my own sanity. Between the inn and Sam, my days are full, so when I finally fall into bed at night, I sleep hard.
There’s not time for anything else in my life.
Especially not a sexy athlete with a killer smile and muscular arms.
Of course I noticed his muscles. I’m alive, aren’t I?
I glance around, content that the work is caught up for now, I walk out onto the front porch, and slide into my favorite swing. Both swings on either side of the front door are identical, but this one has always been my favorite. It has the best view of the trees, and it’s where I do my best thinking.
But my eyes are so damn heavy.
So, I curl my feet under me, brace my face in my hand and close my eyes. Just for a minute.
It’s hot today, but the row of oaks provides a nice breeze. I can smell the roses, fully bloomed and reaching for the sun, in the back yard. I should get up and make sure the two rooms I’m expecting guests for are to my standards. I should order more complimentary soaps and lotions.
I should reply to the email I received this morning that sent my heart into my throat. It’s not like me to ignore someone, or to not face conflict head-on, but my gut says to leave it be.
For now.
Besides, the breeze is lovely, blowing through my hair to my neck, over my face, and the blue jays are calling back and forth.
So for just a few minutes, I’ll rest my eyes and enjoy the quiet.
***
“Gabs?”
I jolt awake and sit up straight, and there in front of me is my oldest brother, and my best friend, Beau.
“You’re home early,” I say and stretch my arms over my head.
“It’s Friday,” he replies with a shrug. “And Eli’s the workaholic, not me.”
I grin and pat the swing next to me. “Sit.”
Like all of my siblings, Beau is tall and dark, with the same hazel eyes as the rest of us. He’s strong. Calm. He’s been my rock for as long as I can remember. And despite being ten years older than me, he’s the one I’ve always felt closest to.
Which is saying a lot because the Boudreaux family is a close one in general. Mama and Papa saw to that.
“I haven’t seen you sleep during the day since you were a kid,” he says as he lowers his tall frame next to me and rests his arm on the back of the swing. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” I reply immediately. “It was just a rare, quiet moment and my eyes got heavy.”
He peers at me closely, narrows his eyes, and tilts his head.
“What’s on your mind, baby girl?”
He knows me too well.
“Nothing.” I shrug innocently. “What do I have to complain about? Aside from the fact that you still live in my back yard, despite me being twenty-seven and able to fend for myself. You seriously need a woman.”
“We aren’t talking about me.”
“Maybe we should talk about you,” I reply and turn in my seat to face him. “You don’t have to stay here to babysit me, you know.”
“I like being here,” he replies calmly. “It’s a good place.”
“It’s a bitch of a commute to work for you every day.”
“It’s a good place,” he repeats. “I also don’t like the idea of you and Sam out here by yourselves.”
“I can—”
“Yes, I know you can take care of the both of you. You’re one of the strongest people I know, but damn it, it gives us all peace of mind to have me nearby.” His jaw clenches, the only sign that he’s good and irritated with me, so I lean over and kiss his cheek.
“I love you, you know.”
“You’d try the patience of the Dalai Lama.”
“He’s pretty patient,” I reply. “Maybe a different llam
Beau laughs and shakes his head at me.
“Hey,” I say casually. “The last you heard, was Colby still living in San Francisco?”
The smile vanishes from Beau’s face, and he leans closer to me. “Has he contacted you?”
“No,” I lie. “I’m just curious.”
He searches my face, and finally says, “Yes, he’s still in San Francisco.”
I nod, relieved.
“If he contacts you, I want to know,” Beau says.
“He signed his rights away,” I remind him. “What would he want with me?”
“I know, I was there,” he replies grimly. “Promise me that you’ll tell me if he contacts you.”
God, I hate lying to my brother. But nothing has really happened, and there’s no need to worry anyone.
Besides, I can take care of myself!
“Fine.”
“Promise me, damn it.”
“Okay, I promise, geez. You should have been an interrogator or something.”
I move to stand, but he grips my arm and pulls me back.
“I’m serious, Gabs. You haven’t asked about him in seven years. Not since the day Sam was born. Why now?”
“Because I just wanted to make sure there were still several states separating us. That’s all.”
Just then, Rhys pulls in with Sam, who climbs from the car quickly, running toward me.
“Hey, buddy!” I call as he climbs the stairs.
“Hi Mom! Hi Uncle Beau!” He hugs us both, then turns to me, practically bouncing with excitement. “Mom! Guess what?”
“Slow down. Did you have fun?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you have a good lunch?” I glance up as Rhys joins us on the porch, that half-smile on his impossibly handsome face. He leans his hip against the railing and crosses his arms over his chest and my mind just… empties.
Damn hot man.
“Yes, ma’am, I had a shrimp po’ boy for lunch.”
“Good. Rhys, have you met my brother, Beau?”
The two men nod at each other as Sam frowns, still quivering with excitement and impatient to share his news.
“We met at the office,” Beau replies.
“Mom, I have something really important to tell you.”