Bayou Sweetheart

“This woman does.” She marched toward the open, waiting door. “And I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat?”

* * *

“I have a cook,” Tomas said, irritated that she had somehow invaded his private space, even more irritated that he’d let her do it by inviting her inside. “And a maid. I’m sure they can feed you something.”

“And they could both be on break and probably watching their favorite soap opera.” Callie shook her head and smiled that breathtaking smile. “I don’t need any help. I—we—don’t live like that around here, Lord Delacorte.”

The sting of that comment pricked his solid armor. He walked to the door off the kitchen and called out, “Margie? Eunice?” Then he pivoted back to Callie. “You don’t approve of me having a cook and a maid?”

“Not my business.” She pointed to the big, industrial stove. “This kitchen is amazing. Brenna told me it was lovely, but it goes beyond that. It’s so...beautiful. Not as fancy as I expected. A good working kitchen. Every woman’s dream.”

Tomas had to admit it was refreshing to find such a down-to-earth woman. A woman who brought this kitchen to life. But her iridescence was too bright. So he covered his awe with gruffness. “Do you want some tea or not?”

She gave him an exaggerated frown, then toughened her voice. “Yes, but I can make it myself.”

Was she mocking him?

The cook and her sister, the housekeeper, both bustled into the room. Hired help, but more like family, they looked at Callie, smiled, then turned to him. “Tomas, did you need something?”

Tomas held up his ringing cell phone but answered Margie before he took the call. “Tea and food, for our guest.”

“Hi,” Callie said, smiling. “I’m Callie and I can make my own tea. Iced or hot, either way is good.”

“Nonsense,” Eunice replied. The two women started chattering away as they went about serving Callie.

Tomas nodded to Margie and Eunice, then turned and left the room. But he couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the feminine introductions and laughter coming from the kitchen. Not used to the echo of such joy, he shut his office door with a bang.

He didn’t like the feelings this colorful, full-of-life woman evoked in him. He didn’t have time for such feelings. Used to controlling everything and everyone, Tomas got the impression he’d never control Callie Moreau. Besides, he had work to do. Taking over a major company was never easy. Soon he’d be the most hated man in town.

Callie Moreau would hate him, too. And that would be that.

A few minutes later, a knock at his door brought his head up. “Yes?”

The door slowly opened and Eunice stuck her head in. “I’ve brought lunch and...Callie wanted a word with you.”

Before Tomas could protest, Callie was in, holding a lunch tray, and Eunice was gone, the door shut.

Callie’s smile looked tentative, but he saw the hint of empathy in her pretty gray-blue eyes. “We had grilled ham and cheese. I brought one for you.”

“I don’t like grilled ham and cheese.”

“Really? I thought everyone loved grilled ham and cheese sandwiches on a rainy day. When was the last time you had one?”

He sat back, memories swirling around him like the mist hitting the big windows. “It’s been a long time.”

She set down the tray on the edge of his massive desk. “Then this is going to be a good day.”

He nodded, turned sarcastic. “In more ways than one, apparently.”

She blushed, fussed with his napkin and water glass. “I hope the weather lets up. I have a lot to do. I love the rain, of course. But I want to make your garden a stunner. I need dry earth and sunshine for that.”

Tomas prayed for rain all day, then changed his mind and prayed for sunshine. He didn’t want her to go, but he certainly didn’t want her stay. “You need to talk to me?”

She nodded.

He motioned to a chair.

After she’d settled her skirt and smoothed her hair, she gave him a direct glance, then produced some papers from the tote bag draped over her arm. “I wanted to show you the grid for the garden. Nick approved everything, but I’d feel better knowing you approve things, too. I’m not used to taking over someone’s garden without their input.”

He waved that notion away. “Nicholas sings your praises. I trust his judgment.”

She flipped her ponytail. “He has to sing my praises. He’s going to be my brother-in-law in two weeks.” Then she sat up in her chair. “You live here. I’d like your input.”

Tomas stared at the sandwich on his plate, the scent of buttered bread making his stomach growl. “If you insist.”

“I do. It’s how I do business, Mr. Delacorte.”

Interesting. Some bite behind all that bright.

“Tomas,” he replied. “Call me Tomas.”

“Well, Tomas, eat your lunch and then we’ll get to work.”

What a bossy woman.

“It’s still raining. Why don’t you call it a day?”

“I don’t melt in the rain,” Callie replied, a sweet shyness seeming to envelop her.

“No, I have no doubt there. I think you thrive in the rain. At least it looked that way to me earlier.”

“I didn’t know you were watching.”

“I didn’t know when I looked out the window I’d find you down there dancing in the rain.”

She pushed the plate toward him, determination taking over her chirpiness. “Eating will get rid of that bad mood.”

“Who said I’m in a bad mood?”

“So you’re like this all the time?”

Tomas thought about that. “Yes, pretty much.”

He was rewarded with what looked like a doubtful but challenging smile. Tomas bit into the thick French bread and tasted the rich white cheddar and the salty ham, the spicy-sweet mustard covered with a ripe tomato from the farmer’s market in town. Then he glanced over at Callie. “This is by far the best ham and cheese sandwich I’ve ever eaten.”

She giggled. “You need to get out more.”

“That’s probably true.”