Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6) Read online

  I laugh, relieved that he’s making the uncomfortable moment from earlier a joke.

  You’re not. I am. And, as it turns out, bad at flirting.

  The three dots blink as he types out his response.

  You’re just rusty. Soak those muscles tonight in a hot bath and you won’t be so sore tomorrow.

  I grin and snap a picture of my feet resting against the far side of the tub, just out of the water and send it to him.

  Two steps ahead of you.

  He doesn’t reply for a long while, and then finally sends, Goodnight, Van.

  I sigh, regretting the photo already.

  Good night.

  Chapter Three

  ~Ben~

  “What the fuck happened to you?” Beau asks as I walk into the gym at Bayou Enterprises. Beau, Eli and I have a standing appointment here three times a week. Their other brother, Declan, sometimes joins us as well, and we talk trash and beat the shit out of each other.

  It’s my favorite part of the week.

  “You should see the other guy,” I reply, not answering the question at all. What am I supposed to say? Your sister, who weighs a buck-ten soaking wet, kicked my ass?

  Eli smirks and jumps up on the pull-up bar to do some pull-ups.

  “You look tired,” I tell him.

  “I have an infant,” he reminds me.

  “You’re wealthy. Don’t wealthy people hire nannies?” I already know the answer to this question, but I love getting a rise out of these guys.

  “Not these wealthy people,” he replies and falls to the floor. “We will hire someone when Kate wants to go back to work, but for now, it’s just the two of us.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day that Eli Boudreaux was not only settled down with one woman, but was changing diapers too.”

  “It’s rather funny,” Beau agrees and shrugs when his brother glares at him. “You were always the confirmed bachelor.”

  “I just hadn’t met Kate yet,” he says.

  “How sweet,” I say and laugh when he takes a swing at me. I easily move out of the way, and this begins our sparring for the afternoon. There’s little talk involved, other than the typical don’t be a wuss as we go through the motions of punching, kicking, and generally kicking each other’s asses.

  “I can’t help but notice,” Beau says as he steps aside and watches me advance on Eli, “the irony that we did this exact thing when we were sixteen. We just didn’t have the disguise of calling it exercise then.”

  Eli grunts and tackles me around the waist, sending me onto my back. Fatherhood hasn’t softened him in the least, and I have to dig deep to get out of his hold.

  “Not bad,” I say, panting, as I stand and walk to the edge of the mat to get my water. I hear the door of the gym open, and I turn expecting to see Declan, but instead, find Savannah walk in on the sexiest black heels I’ve ever seen. She grins, then looks at me and her face falls in horror, her skin going white as a ghost.

  “Oh my God,” she says and rushes to me, those heels clicking quickly on the wood floor. “You said you’d be okay. I gave you a freaking black eye!”

  Eli and Beau’s smirks aren’t lost on me as she moves to touch my face, and I back away immediately.

  She can’t touch me right now.

  Last night at her house was too much for me. I knew I shouldn’t have gone, but I couldn’t say no. And then she let me touch her, and she fucking came on to me, and I had to get out of there before I boosted her up onto the kitchen counter and sunk inside her, making love until I don’t know where she ends and I begin.

  And that can never happen.

  “I’m fine,” I reply. “It looks worse than it is.”

  “Bullshit,” she says. I love it when Van gets all fired up. She’s so petite, but her size has nothing to do with her attitude. It’s good to see this light in her eyes. It was gone for far too long. “You’re hurt, and I did it.”

  “The other guy looks fine to me,” Beau says. Tears run down his cheeks from laughing.

  “Fuck you,” I reply.

  “So, how exactly did this happen?” Eli asks.

  “He was—” Van begins, but I cut her off.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I walk around her, needing to put some distance between us. “It was an accident. I think we’re done for today.”

  “We still have fifteen minutes left,” Eli says with a grin that says he’s enjoying the hell out of my discomfort.

  “We’re done,” I repeat. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  “Ben.”

  I turn at the sound of Savannah’s voice and look into her eyes for the first time since she arrived.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  She’s not just talking about the eye. We both know it. The thing is, she has nothing to be sorry for.

  I’m the one who can’t handle just being friends anymore. She hasn’t done anything wrong, and I hate the thought that I’ve made her think she has. Which is new to me, because I usually don’t give a fuck if I’ve rubbed someone the wrong way.

  But I care about Van.

  So I cross to her and kiss her forehead, not touching her anywhere else.

  She smells like sunshine and strawberries.

  She smells like she used to before her life went sideways.

  Fuck me, I want her.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell her, tipping her chin up. “I’m fine.”

  She searches my face for a second and then nods. “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re sure you won’t stay?” Beau asks. “We have twelve minutes left.”

  “I’m out,” I reply. I’ll never make Savannah feel uncomfortable. Well, not intentionally anyway. But I’m smart enough to know when I need to remove myself from her.

  I wave as I leave and take the private elevator down and walk to my car, throwing my gym bag in the back.

  And my phone rings.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, darlin’,” she says. She sounds tired. But then, Mom always sounds tired these days. “What are you up to?”

  “I just left Beau and Eli and was thinking about heading into the office for a few hours.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. How are the boys?”

  I grin. Mom is as much a part of the Boudreaux family as I am. It’s always just been Mom and me, but the Boudreaux family was always right next door. My mama and Mama Boudreaux are best friends.

  “They’re good. I kicked their asses.”

  “I don’t like that language,” she reminds me, and I can’t help but feel scolded. How is it that no matter how old I get, my mom still has the ability to dress me down with one sentence?

  “Yes, ma’am,” I murmur. “How are you today?”

  “Well, I’m okay, but I was hoping I could talk you into going to the grocery store for me.”

  I frown. Mom needs help for a lot of things these days, thanks to all of her health problems, but she’s still quite self-sufficient.

  “Are you not feeling well?”

  “Not great,” she confirms. “I haven’t been able to get to the store this past week, and I’m out of a few things.”

  “Of course I’ll go,” I reply immediately and turn toward her house. She still lives next door to Mama Boudreaux. I think the house is too big for her now, but she loves it, and refuses to move. So I hired a woman to come in once a week to clean for her.

  It’s the least I can do.

  We say goodbye and I make it to her house quickly.

  When I walk in, I immediately know that something isn’t right.

  “Mom?” I call out.

  “Upstairs,” she calls back.

  The house smells of old garbage. She hasn’t taken it out in a while, and there are dirty dishes in the sink.

  This is not normal for my mom.

  I take the stairs two at a time and find her sitting on the edge of her bed. She’s wearing a robe and slippers. Her dark hair is a m
ess.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh.” She waves me off like nothing big is wrong. “I just have a sore toe. I gave myself a pedicure and nicked the skin.”

  “When is the last time you were downstairs?”

  She cringes. “It’s been a minute. A couple days probably.”

  “A couple of days?” I scowl down at her. “Let me see your toe.”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  “Mama.” My voice is firm.

  “Don’t you talk to me like that, young man. You may be all growly with your clients and friends, but I’m still your mother and you will speak respectfully to me.”

  I take a deep breath, pushing the frustration aside. “Yes, ma’am. Can I please see your toe?”

  “See, that wasn’t so hard,” she says. It’s a good thing she’s looking at her foot as she takes her slipper off rather than my face because she’d tan my hide for the eye roll I just gave her.

  But then I look down at her foot.

  “Mama, that’s not just a sore toe.”

  The toe is clearly infected, pushing the toes on either side of it out. There’s no way she could wear shoes right now. It has to hurt so badly, I don’t know how she can bear to walk to the bathroom, not to mention down the stairs.

  She still also has several open wounds on her legs thanks to the arterial disease she has that prohibits her body from healing itself. That combined with the diabetes makes it tough for her if she gets hurt or sick.

  “Why didn’t you call me days ago?”

  “Because I’m okay.”

  “Mama, you’re not okay.”

  “I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

  I sigh and scrub my hand over my face. Getting this woman to agree to go to the doctor is like trying to debate with a terrorist.

  “I know you don’t, but you need to. I’m taking you right now.”

  “My podiatrist is booked weeks ahead. That’s why I gave myself the pedicure rather than go in. A woman needs to have pretty feet.”

  “I see. Well, then, we’re going to the emergency room.”

  “Benjamin—”

  “Mom, we have to.”

  She sighs and finally nods. “Okay then.”

  I help her dress in sweat pants and a T-shirt, and she wiggles her way back into her slipper, but I can see that it’s painful and takes a great deal of effort.

  She moves to stand, but I pick her up and carry her down the stairs.

  “Well, aren’t you just the strong one?” she says with a smile. “Been more than a minute since a man carried me anywhere.”

  “You shouldn’t be walking,” I reply and get her settled into the car. “Do you want me to call anyone else?”

  “No, they’ll probably put me on an antibiotic and send me home. No need to worry anyone.”

  I hope so.

  ***

  “She’s going to be here for a couple of days,” I say to Beau on the phone a couple of hours later. “They have to amputate the toe immediately, and we’re hoping the infection didn’t travel up. If it did, there’s a chance that she could lose the foot.”

  “Damn,” Beau replies grimly. “I’ll be there in just a bit. Are they taking her in for surgery right away?”

  “Yeah, they’re prepping her now. She’s not happy.”

  “I’m sure not. Just text me which waiting room you’re in and I’ll be there soon. I’ll let the family know.”

  “I haven’t called your mom yet.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll do it. Go be with her while they’re prepping her and tell her we all love her.”

  I grin. “For a guy who can be such a badass, you’re sure a softie when it comes to women.”

  “As far as I know, that’s how it’s supposed to be,” he replies and then he disconnects the call.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever told them all how thankful I am for them. Aside from Mom, I don’t have any other blood relatives that I know of. If there is family out there, they don’t live in New Orleans, and Mom’s never mentioned them.

  So having the Boudreaux family in our lives has been awesome.

  And this is a reminder to me as to why I can’t ever try to start something with Savannah. Our families are too linked, our lives interconnected.

  I’d never risk losing that.

  “There he is,” Mom says when I walk into her room. “Don’t tell me you got everyone riled up over this little thing.”

  “Amputation isn’t a little thing,” I remind her.

  “It’s just a toe, Benjamin. Not a whole appendage.”

  “Thankfully,” I reply and lean over to kiss her forehead. “Your eyes are getting droopy.”

  “They gave me more drugs,” she says with a sigh. “I’m so tired of medication.”

  “I know.” I kiss her again and sit next to her. “But I bet you’re tired of your toe hurting even more.”

  “That’s true,” she says and licks her lips. “Can I have water?”

  “Sorry, no,” a nurse says as she walks in the room. “We’re about to wheel you back. You can have lots of water after you wake up.”

  Mom grips my hand. “This part makes me nervous.”

  “You’ll do great,” I reply and ignore the blatant stares the nurse is giving me. “And I’ll be here when you wake up. In fact, I think several of the others will be here too.”

  “How nice,” she says with a smile. “Don’t get all fussy with flowers.”

  “Mom, we like to fuss.”

  And I know she secretly likes it too, but doesn’t want to show it.

  Before long she’s out cold and another nurse comes into the room to wheel her out.

  The first nurse stays behind, and when we’re in the room alone, she surprises me with, “I like your tattoos.”

  “Thanks.” My phone beeps with a text. It’s Beau letting me know that he’s in the waiting room.

  “I don’t usually do this sort of thing, because it’s not exactly professional, but—”

  “Please don’t,” I say, interrupting her. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, and that’s all that can come from this conversation.”

  Her face falls and she nods, then hurries out of the room.

  Shit. I probably could have handled that more gently, but damn it, they just wheeled my mother back to surgery, I’m beating myself up over Savannah, which is fucking stupid because there’s nothing there to beat myself up over, and the last thing I need is my mom’s nurse coming on to me.

  I mean, who the fuck does that?

  I walk out to the waiting room and am surprised to see not just Beau, but Savannah as well.

  “How is she?” Beau asks as they both stand.

  “She’s okay. A little scared, but fine. The procedure should only take about an hour.”

  “Good,” Van says. “Poor Millie.”

  “She’d been stranded upstairs for a couple of days,” I say and drop into a chair facing Beau and Van. “She didn’t call me until today.”

  “Shit,” Beau whispers. “She could have even called my mom. She’s right next door.”

  “Stubborn woman,” I mutter. “I think I’m going to have to hire a caregiver to come stay with her. I’m not comfortable with her being alone.”

  “Do you think she’d go for it?” Beau asks.

  “Maybe, especially after this. She may talk a big game, but I could tell that she was scared.” I shake my head, frustrated. “I physically carried her out to the car and brought her here.”

  “Wow,” Savannah says, catching my attention. She’s listening intently, her eyes full of concern and something else that I’ve begun to see lately, and don’t quite know how to handle it, even though it’s like a siren’s song that I only want to get closer to.

  And that’s a bad idea.

  “I’m going to go grab us all a coffee at the cafeteria,” Beau says and stands. “Do you want anything else?”

  I shake my head no just as Van says, “I’d rather have tea, please.”<
br />
  Beau nods and walks away and I’m left alone with Savannah. She moves from her seat to the one right next to me and rubs my arm in firm, soothing strokes.

  “She’s going to be just fine,” she says. “I think the caregiver idea is a good one. Maybe for now all she needs is someone to come be with her during the day. They wouldn’t necessarily have to be live in. At least, not for a while.”

  I nod, unable to talk. Her warm little hand on me is making my dick twitch, and that’s not at all appropriate while your mother is in surgery.

  But I’ll be damned if I can stop it.

  “Eli’s on his way,” she continues, her voice soothing and heavy with her accent. “He had to wrap up a meeting and then was going to come here. We called everyone else, and they’re waiting for an update. They can be here in a little bit if we need them.”

  I nod.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” she says and links her fingers with mine, and that’s all I can take.

  I want to hold her. I want to hug her and not let go. I want to kiss those sweet, plump lips and run my hands all over her little body.

  And I want to lie in bed and talk all through the night about nothing at all.

  And that’s something I’ve never wanted to do with another woman in my life.

  “Shit,” I whisper and pull my hand away from her, then deliberately put her hand in her own lap. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Do what?” She’s frowning.

  “You know—”

  Shit, I don’t know how to say this. I take a deep breath and press my fingertips into my eyes, trying to find a way to say this without spilling my guts.

  But then it occurs to me that pussy footing around the truth hasn’t gotten us anywhere so far, so why not be brutally honest?

  “Here’s the thing, Van. I can’t do this. I can’t spend the rest of my life in the friend zone with you.”

  I stand, putting some space between us and stare down at her. It feels hot in here.

  “I love your family, and I owe them a lot. Your brothers are my brothers. Gabby and Charly are my sisters, or as close as possible without actually sharing DNA.

  “But I don’t have those same feelings about you, Van. I don’t feel brotherly at all with you.”

  She won’t look at me. Her hands are folded tightly in her lap, and her head is down.