The Road to Bayou Bridge. Liz Talley

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СКАЧАТЬ her very scent, would affect him. Renny smelled exotic, like rainforest sunrises and Indian marketplaces.

      Good Lord. What had he put in his coffee that morning? Or maybe all that weird music his mother had on when he left was making him loopy.

      “Renny,” he said, unable to keep the pleasure at seeing her out of his voice. He’d come to Beau Soleil to find her and here she was.

      “What are you doing here?” The tension around her mouth spoke more than her words. Okay. Not very happy to see him.

      “Home for a visit.”

      She swallowed and glanced over his shoulder. “You have a permit to shoot gators?”

      “I’m not shooting gators. Nate is. He still has five tags left.”

      “But you have a gun in hand.” She pointed toward his dad’s old rifle.

      “Only as a precaution. We were about to bait some hooks when Nate saw the gator.” He gestured to the cold weapon. If she was this confrontational over his brother legally shooting at a gator, how would she react when he told her he was her legal husband? Wouldn’t be good. Suddenly he was glad he held a gun. “I thought you were a biologist or something, not an agent.”

      She looked hard at him and her brown eyes narrowed. They were pretty brown eyes—eyes that could flash in anger as easily as they could widen then glaze over in pleasure. He remembered those eyes. “I am a biologist, but I also work for Wildlife and Fisheries, and we take violations seriously.”

      He smiled. “Good to know. I’ll make sure I don’t get out of line while I’m in town.”

      She frowned. “You always get out of line.”

      “Well, I’m pretty much an inside-the-lines kind of guy these days, Ren. Naval officer, attorney and all that.”

      “Right.”

      “You don’t sound convinced,” he said with a laugh. “Though I just got my separation papers. Guess I’m no longer in the navy, or rather no longer active duty.”

      Damn, he was rambling. Telling her things no one would have interest in. Get control, Dufrene.

      Renny licked her lips, drawing his attention away from grumpy brown eyes to a part of her he’d always lavished attention upon. She was nervous, not flirting at all, but her tongue sliding between those plump lips had the same effect. He ripped his gaze away.

      “Well, congratulations. Hope you enjoy your visit,” she said, but he was almost certain she’d meant, Hope you die a painful death.

      Her whole attitude puzzled him. She was the one who hadn’t wanted him anymore—did she have to be so damn cold about it? But what did he care? Two weeks tops before he headed to Seattle, but there was work to do before he left, and part of that job stood right in front of him.

      Renny twisted to glance behind her, and a piece of caramel hair tumbled against the white sheeting she’d draped herself in. When he’d first seen her, he’d had a flashback to those government guys in E.T. “Well, I’ve got a bird to track down.”

      “Yeah, I saw that. What was it? It was huge.”

      “Whooping crane. She’s out of her natural habitat, or what we think to be her natural habitat. I think a storm a few weeks back blew her north, so that’s why I’m here. I stopped by the house and cleared it with your mother before coming out.” She paused a moment and then cleared her throat. “She didn’t tell me you were home.”

      No, his mother wouldn’t, would she? Picou had suggested this very area for setting a few baits for the gators. Not coincidental at all. “Who knows? She’s been distracted lately with my sister and all.”

      “Yeah, I heard about Della. Amazing that y’all found her,” Renny said, pushing her hair back from her face. The Louisiana heat had her flushed and tendrils of hair stuck to the curve of her cheek—something that made her undeniably attractive in a mussed-up, natural way. In a way that made him want to peel that white-drape crap off her and find out how her curves had filled out over the past eleven years.

      “Yeah, that’s the main reason I’m home,” he said, wondering why he was giving her all the details about his twin sister, his job, what he was doing on his own family’s property. Seemed natural to reveal his thoughts to Renny—just like in the past. He resisted the urge to scratch his neck. Mosquitos. Forgot how viscous they could be in South Louisiana.

      “I’ve got to—”

      “I need to talk—”

      They both spoke at once before snapping their mouths closed. Pink bloomed on Renny’s cheeks as she shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, sorry.”

      “No, I want to ask if maybe we can get together and talk? We have some things we need to work out, and I don’t think this is the best place.” He slapped another mosquito.

      She shook her head. “Look, the past is the past. We don’t have anything more to say to each other. We were young and stupid and—”

      “Hey,” Nate called from behind him. “Where’d you go? That was a big son of a gun, and I needed you to man the pole. Too late now. That gator sunk in the bayou like a stone.”

      Darby didn’t turn toward his brother, but he could hear him getting closer. He couldn’t take his eyes off his wife. Okay, not his wife, but, still, his wife. It had been so long and she looked as good as a piece of pecan pie and a cup of chicory coffee—the epitome of all things Southern and Louisianan. He hadn’t expected to feel anything for her. He’d thought his feelings toward her childlike and gone in the wind like the world he’d left behind. But like a shadow, his past clung to him refusing to allow him to forget who he was, where he’d come from, and the girl he’d once loved.

      Why was that so?

      He didn’t want to feel anything for Renny. Or for this flooded field he stood in. Or the creaky boards squeaking beneath his feet as he climbed the stairs in the house in which he’d been raised.

      He had to be done with Renny and Bayou Bridge. He had a new life waiting for him, and if all went as planned with Shelby and the job at her father’s firm, it was a given the sophisticated blonde would one day wear his great-aunt Felicia’s yellow diamond.

      He just had to deal with the women of his past before that could happen, and unfortunately, both Della and Renny were like a backlash in his fishing reel. Not easy to untangle.

      “Oh, hey, Renny,” Nate said, halting beside him. “What’re you doing out here? And what’re you wearing?”

      “A costume.”

      “Early for Halloween, isn’t it?” Nate cracked. Darby glanced at his brother, who’d grown a hunting beard like so many guys did when mid-September rolled around. Nate’s eyes crinkled and Darby almost didn’t recognize the former sheriff’s detective who’d nearly ground his nose off in an effort to solve cases. His wife, Annie, and son, Pax, had softened him, given him laugh lines and a lightness in his step.

      Renny finally smiled and Darby felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. Good Lord. Obviously this was about more than the past. He had to dash a crazy impulse to grab Renny СКАЧАТЬ