Easy Charm by Kristen Proby
Easy Charm
Book Two in the Boudreaux Series
By
Kristen Proby
EASY CHARM
Book Two in The Boudreaux Series
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2015 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Art:
Photography by: Kristen Proby
Models: BT Urruela and Samantha Connor
Cover Design: Okay Creations
ISBN: 978-1-63350-006-8
About Kristen Proby
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Kristen Proby is the author of the popular With Me in Seattle series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong characters who love humor and have a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type—fiercely protective and a bit bossy—and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves. Kristen spends her days with her muse in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys coffee, chocolate, and sunshine. And naps. Visit her at KristenProby.com.
Website
Goodreads
Other Books by Kristen Proby:
The Boudreaux Series:
Easy Love and on audio
The With Me In Seattle Series:
Come Away With Me and on audio
Under the Mistletoe With Me and on audio
Fight With Me and on audio
Play With Me and on audio
Rock With Me and on audio
Safe With Me and on audio
Tied With Me and on audio
Breathe With Me and on audio
Forever With Me and on audio
Easy With You
The Love Under the Big Sky Series, available through Pocket Books:
Loving Cara and on audio
Seducing Lauren and on audio
Falling for Jillian and on audio
Baby, It’s Cold Outside and on audio
An Anthology with Jennifer Probst, Emma Chase, Kristen Proby, Melody Anne and Kate Meader
Dedication
This book is dedicated to women who pull themselves up by the bootstraps and kick ass. Fierce women.
And the men who admire and love them.
Table of Contents
About Kristen Proby
Other Books by Kristen Proby
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Epilogue
Other Books by Kristen Proby
Prologue
Eight Years Ago
~Gabby~
What is he going to say? What is he going to do?
Dear sweetness, I’m a mess.
I’m sitting on the front porch of the plantation house, waiting for Colby to pick me up. He’s been my boyfriend for four months, and I love him.
Like, forever love him.
He’s tall, and handsome, and funny. And he tells me he loves me all the time. And a month ago, we made love and it was perfect.
Just like the movies.
But now my stomach is turning, like there are a million fireflies in my belly, and I can’t stop wringing my hands.
I hope he’s not mad. I hope he’s as excited as I am! I’m nervous to tell him, but Charly says it’s the right thing to do, and she’s right. Thank goodness for older sisters.
Colby’s car makes the turn into our driveway. The older Pontiac is louder than usual today. The muffler must have finally given up the ghost.
Colby is forever working on his car. And I don’t mind because that means I get to watch his muscles flex as he works, and hand him tools.
We’ve made out many times in that car.
I grin as he climbs out of the car, his sunglasses covering his bright blue eyes, that smug smirk on his lips. He’s in a Fall Out Boy T-shirt and jeans, and I bounce down the steps, excited to see him.
“Hey, baby,” he says as he scoops me up into a hug, then glances around to make sure no one is watching before he kisses me soundly. “You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you.” I take a deep breath and paste a confident smile on my face. “Let’s go sit in the garden for a minute before we leave.”
“We don’t have time, babe. Scott and the others are expecting us.”
“It’s just a BBQ,” I reply. “I have some news I need to share with you.”
He smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear, as though he’s indulging me. Sometimes Colby can be condescending, just because he’s two years older than me, and at twenty-one, he thinks he’s the shit because he can buy beer and stuff. It gets on my nerves.
But then he can be the sweetest thing ever.
“Okay, let’s go sit for a minute,” he says and lets me lead him to the bench in the garden that’s hidden from the house. It’s summer and it’s hot, but this spot is in the shade, and surprisingly comfortable. “What’s up?”
“I’m…” I bite my lip and glance up into his face. “Can you please take your glasses off?”
He frowns but takes them off, and narrows his eyes at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant.”
He blinks rapidly, then pulls his hand out of mine and scoots away from me so we aren’t touching at all. “Bullshit.”
“I took six tests, Colby.”
“This is fucking bullshit,” he repeats.
“Look, I know it’s unexpected—”
“Unexpected?” He laughs and shakes his head. “We were careful.”
“Not the first time,” I remind him, remembering how he said that he didn’t want anything between us for the first time because he wanted it to be special.
“That was one time, Gabby.”
Why is he looking at me like I’m lying to him?
“I can show you the tests,” I reply and reach for his hand, but he pulls it out of my reach.
“I don’t need to see them. Get rid of it.”
I jerk back, stunned. “What?”
“You heard me. Get rid of it. I’ll pay for it.”
“No.” Get rid of it?
Now he stands and paces away, then back at me. “If you think I’m going to ruin my life because you can’t keep your legs together, you have another think coming.”
“Excuse me?” I jump to my feet and bury my finger in his chest, royally pissed off now. “There were two of us there, Colby. I’m no slut. You were my first!”
“So you said.”
My jaw drops. Did he seriously just say that to me?
“We are in love,” I say, trying to be the calm, rational one. “We can make this work.”
“We’re not in love, Gabby,” he says and rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you’re naïve. We’re having a fun summer together. That
“Why are you acting like this?” I back away and wrap my arms around my belly. “You tell me you love me all the time!”
“Yeah, I tell you I love you all the time because it gets me in your pants and you clearly get off on it,” he insists, then chuckles when I just stare at him. “This is what I get for dating a virgin.”
“Stop that. I’m nineteen. I’m hardly a baby.”
“You’re right. So be an adult, and take care of this issue.”
I shake my head and feel tears well in my eyes. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”
“I’m the same Colby who drove up here. I’m not going to raise a kid, Gabby. I didn’t sign on for this. So fucking get rid of it.”
He slides his glasses on his face and stalks away. I can’t move. I hear his car start, then pull away, and slowly lower myself down to the bench.
Chapter One
~Rhys~
“It’s hot down here,” I mutter into my phone.
“I can barely hear you,” Kate, my cousin, yells into my ear making me cringe. “What kind of car did you rent?”
“A convertible Camero,” I reply with a satisfied grin. “Black.”
“Of course it’s black.” I can almost hear her rolling those bright green eyes, and it makes me laugh.
“Hey, I need a way to get around while I’m here. This inn is in BFE.”
“But it’s worth it,” she insists. “It’s so peaceful out there. You’ll recover quickly there.”
“I’m already recovered,” I reply, gritting my teeth. “I feel fine.”
“Bullcrap.”
Of course it’s bullshit. My shoulder sings every time I try to throw a ball, but I won’t admit that to anyone, least of all Kate, who seems to think it’s her God-given right to mother me.
“It’s really far from the city. I could probably stay somewhere closer to you.”
“It’s quiet there, and it’s not that far. Stop whining.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and look at it, then reply with, “Did you just tell me to stop whining?”
“Yes.” She giggles.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“You don’t scare me.”
She’s probably one of the few that I don’t scare.
“Go rest,” she says, serious now. “Heal. The inn is the perfect place for it.”
Being away from the media circus and my coaches, who are constantly on my ass about conditioning my injured shoulder, sounds perfect.
Being off the grid, calling my own shots for a while, without anyone checking on me every five seconds, sounds like pure heaven.
“I want to see you,” I tell Kate as I take the exit off the freeway.
“Let’s do lunch tomorrow. That’ll give you time to get settled and rest from your trip.”
“Why do you think I need all this rest?” I grumble. “I’m a healthy almost-thirty-year-old man, Kate. I hurt my shoulder. It’s not like I’m coming home from war.”
Although recovering from this one has felt like a fucking battle every single day since it happened a few months ago.
“Okay, tough guy, I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch.” She sounds perky and happy, and that makes me happy.
Kate was unhappy for far too long. Being in New Orleans and with Eli Boudreaux, seems to be agreeing with her.
But I’ll save my opinion on that until I see her with my own eyes.
“Call me if you need me,” I say, just like I always do right before we hang up.
“Ditto.”
And she’s gone. I take a deep breath as I adjust my grip on the steering wheel, loving the way this car handles. It’s as smooth as a beautiful woman’s bare skin.
Not that I remember exactly what that feels like, given that I’ve been preoccupied with major league baseball, and doctors, and the very real prospect of losing the sport that has been the only love of my life far too much lately.
Maybe that’ll change while I’m down here in Louisiana. It wouldn’t hurt to distract myself with a fun woman for a while.
I rub my hand over my lips and quickly dismiss that idea. I don’t need any distractions. I need to get my shoulder in top form again so I can return to the team and sport I love in the spring.
The GPS announces that I’ve reached my destination, and my jaw drops as I slow the car before turning into the driveway and take in my first glimpse of Inn Boudreaux.
A row of enormous old oak trees lead to the front door of an impressive white building with wide pillars and a deep front porch. Porch swings hang on either side of the inviting red door and ceiling fans spin lazily above them.
The trees soar high into the air, the branches heavy with Spanish moss dripping from the limbs. Some of the limbs are so long that they rest on the ground.
I turn into the driveway, still crawling along. The grounds are adorned with different buildings, gardens, a creek—complete with bridge—and beautiful colors everywhere.
If there is a heaven, this is exactly what it should look like.
I come to a stop beside a Buick with Florida plates and climb out of the car just as a pixie of a woman with long dark hair steps out of the house, tossing a friendly smile and wave in my direction.
Yes, heaven should have her greet every person to show up as well. Still hidden behind my glasses, my eyes take a leisurely stroll up and down her petite frame, not at all offended by her smooth, bare legs and bare feet. She’s in tiny denim shorts and a black tank top, because of the hot weather, I’m sure. Her hair falls almost to her waist, and I can’t tell what color her eyes are, but that smile could melt the coldest heart.
She descends the stairs, slips her feet into flip flops, and walks toward me.
“You must be Rhys. I’m Gabby.” She holds a hand out and I immediately take it in both of mine, and rather than shake it, I raise her knuckles to my lips and kiss them lightly. Her eyes—the color of old whiskey—widen in surprise, and then she giggles, making my gut tighten. “My sisters warned me that you’re a charmer.”
“They did?” I reply delightedly. “Did they also warn you of my debonair good looks and giving spirit?”
Gabby laughs again and shakes her head. “I must have missed that part.”
“I’m wounded.” I reluctantly give up her hand and cover my heart, as though I’ve taken a bullet to the chest.
“You’ll survive,” she replies and rests her hands on her hips, pushing her breasts forward, and I rub my fingers against my thumb, instantly wanting to touch her again. “Do you need help with your bags?”
“No.” I circle to the back of the car and pull my single duffel from the trunk, leaving my workout equipment there for now. “This is it.”
“That’s it?” She frowns and shakes her head. “Kate said you’d be here for at least a month.”
“I’m a guy, Gabby. A few pairs of jeans, some shirts, workout clothes, and I’m good. It’s women who need every stitch of clothing they’ve ever owned for a weekend trip.”
She smirks and tilts her head to the side, sizing me up. Why it suddenly matters to me what the thoughts running through her gorgeous little head are, I’m not sure.
But it does matter. A lot.
“Is he here?” The screen door slams as a little boy comes crashing out of the house and races down the steps. “You’re here!”
“I’m here,” I reply with a grin. “And you’re Sam.”
He offers me a wide, toothless smile. “You talked to me on the phone,” he says.
“I remember.” I also remember the twenty minutes of non-stop intelligent questions from this adorable kid. “How are you, Sam?”
“Good.” Suddenly shy, he moves to his mom’s side and tucks himself under her arm. She doesn’t have to bend far to kiss his head.
“Do you want to help me show Rhys to his room?” Gabby asks Sam, who lights up and nods.
“Sure! You get the best room in the whole house.” He walks over and takes my duffel,
“I can take my bag, Sam.”
“I got it. I’m trying to pay off another broken window.” He cringes then climbs the stairs. “Mom says this is part of my job.”
I raise a brow at Gabby, who just smiles and shrugs. “He’s broken four windows in five months.”
“How?” I ask as we follow the little boy who looks so much like his gorgeous mother.
“I’m really good at baseball, just like you,” he informs me seriously.
“And sometimes the baseballs end up through my windows.” Sam is huffing and puffing from the effort of carrying my heavy duffel, so Gabby takes it from him. “That’s far enough. You can mark a dollar off what you owe.”
Sam smiles triumphantly and I take the bag from Gabby.
“You’re our guest.”
“If you think I’m going to let you haul around my sh—crap—you’re not as smart as you look.”
Her mouth twists and I can see that she’s trying to decide if she’s going to let me get away with being a sexist ass, but she’s interrupted when Sam announces, “You can say shit. I’ve heard it before.”
“Sam!”
I chuckle, but hide my smile behind my fist as I fake a cough.
“What? I have!”
“Well, you can’t say it,” Gabby says sternly.
“I can’t say what?” Sam asks with a delighted giggle.
“Come on, smarty pants, let’s show Rhys his room.” She sighs defeatedly, but when Sam turns around, she lets the grin spread over her face, and my heart stills.
She’s stunning.
“You get to be in the attic,” Sam informs me as he stomps on the stairs ahead of us. “We saved it for you.”
“Is the inn full?” I ask politely, bringing up the rear, and trying not to watch too closely as Gabby’s ass sways back and forth while she climbs the stairs.
“We’re full most of the season,” Gabby replies. “Guests come and go during the day. I serve breakfast in the dining room between seven and nine every morning. If you give me a heads up, I can provide you with lunch and dinner as well.”