Easy Kisses (Boudreaux 4)

“I don’t think she’s choosing it, I think Amy is just pressing all the right buttons to keep herself there. You’re right, I should tell Mum more of it, so she knows what she’s dealing with. I just didn’t want her to be disappointed in me. And that may be the first time I’ve ever admitted that. I sound like a coward.”

“You sound like someone who was abused,” I reply gently and wrap my arms around him. “I’ve never been there, but Savannah has, and she had many of the same feelings. You do so many great things for people. You should be proud of that, and if it was your relationship with Amy that circled you around to it, well, then maybe it was worth it. But you have to reconcile it for what it was and move on, Simon.”

“You’re an amazing woman, Charlotte Boudreaux.”

“I think I’m just the voice of reason right now.”

He catches my chin with his finger and tilts my face up to look at him. “Thank you.”

“You can pay me back later.” I press my lips to his chin, then check the time. “I’m about to be amazingly late. Feel free to unpack and just put your things wherever you want. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Are you okay, love?”

“Of course.” I send him a bright smile. “Just call me if you need me.”

“Have a good day.”

I blow him a kiss and leave, my mind reeling. When he was telling me what Amy did to him, I wanted to sit and weep for him. What a grade-A bitch. I’d like just five minutes alone with her.

And given that I’d like five minutes alone with her, I’m just fucking angry. How could anyone treat another human being like that? What kind of sick joy does that bring them?

I’ve never felt this overwhelming need to protect a man before. Not that he needs it; she can’t hurt him now. But I feel fiercely territorial.

And this is new.

I don’t know what to do about it. I still don’t see how a relationship with Simon can make it long-term. He can’t stay in New Orleans forever, and I don’t plan to leave.

But I do know that I’m going to enjoy him for every minute he’s here.

***

I flip the sign to closed at exactly six o’clock. It’s the first time I haven’t stayed open later in…I can’t even remember. I usually take my time, visit with straggling customers, count the till, organize credit card receipts, and I even sit and pore through shoes online, deciding what to buy next.

But not tonight. I’m excited to go home. Not because there’s someone to go home to, but because it’s Simon.

I’m ready to see Simon.

Even the evening traffic doesn’t bother me a bit. I whistle along with the radio, and patiently make my way through town. Butterflies set up residence in my belly as I pull into the driveway. Simon’s rental is parked at the curb.

I walk in and grin when I see him at my dining table chatting on the phone. He glances up and smiles at me, that smile that makes me forget that I have knees, and finishes his call.

“How was your day?” he asks.

“Busy, so it was a good day,” I reply and set my handbag and keys on the table. “How about you?”

“The same.” He kisses me gently, sending a shiver down my arms. “I brought all of my things over.”

“Great.”

“There are a few things that I couldn’t find a home for, so you can just tell me where you want to put them.”

“That’s fine.” I look up at him and realize that he looks nervous. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He grips my shoulders, then rubs his hands up and down my arms. “But I need a favor.”

“Okay.”

“I have to record my weekly video today. I missed last week, and I can’t miss two in a row.”

“Of course not. You have quite a following.”

He grins. “I usually have a camera guy, but I obviously didn’t bring him with me from London. I can record the whole thing here, then send it to him and he’ll cut it together and make it look nice to go live.”

“Sounds good. What do you need me for?”

“I need you to run the camera. I’ll just use my phone, which is fine, but I’ll need you to make sure I’m centered in the shot, hit record, and end it as well.”

“This sounds like a very easy job. I can handle it.” I give him a mock salute. “Why do you look nervous? You’ve recorded hundreds of these.”

“Today’s topic is going to be a bit more personal.”

He doesn’t say anything more. He sits at the table, and I realize he’s already set up his phone across from him.

He looks amazing. He’s in jeans and a casual polo shirt, showing off the tattoos on his arm. His hair is combed back, and he’s clean-shaven.

He looks professional and comfortable, which is perfect for pulling a viewer in. It worked for me, anyway, when Van and I sat and watched just about every video he had available. Of course, this is the first time he’s recorded a video without long sleeves.

And now he’s sitting in my house, recording his video.

And I’m sleeping with him.

Crazy.

“Everyone will see your tats.”

He glances down and then shrugs. “I’ve decided I don’t care.”

“Any special reason?”

“I didn’t bring a long-sleeved shirt.” He grins and I shake my head.

“Are you ready?” I ask, looking at the camera. “You’re in frame.”

“Yes, ready when you are. If I mess up, I’ll start at the beginning of my thought, and Perry will fix it later.”