Page 30 of Sweet Home Louisiana

“Do that?”he repeated.“Be friends?”

“Be alone.Hug.Talk about the past,” she said.

His chest tightened the way it had on the dock, but for a very different reason.Now he was a little pissed.“That all seems like stuff people should do when it’s been twelve years and they’ve lost someone they both cared about,” he said calmly.“And when one of them really needs a hug.”

She swallowed hard and then said, “I’ve had enough hugging, I think.I’m good.”

“Oh, well, great,” he said.He reached up, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then said, “But I was talking about me.”

Then he pivoted on his heel and left her standing at her grandmother’s door.

Yeah, he’d definitely grown up.Because he didn’t punch a hole in any walls and he didn’t throw any bottles against the side of his garage.

He also hadn’t backed her up against the side of her grandma’s house and showed her that she most definitely wanted to be hugging him.And a hell of a lot more.

Being grown-up kind of sucked.

Maddie was upand out of bed the next morning for work.

Not because she woke up naturally at the god-awful hour of six a.m.Or because she’d set an alarm.Or because she was so excited about work that she couldn’t sleep.

Nope, she woke up because of the sound of her three business partners clomping into her grandmother’s kitchen, arguing about who made the best eggs, and banging her two cast-iron skillets on the stovetop in the process of making said eggs.

Maddie rolled over with a groan and pulled the pillow over her face.What the actual fuck?These people couldn’t even make breakfast quietly?Evensemi-quietly?

“You don’t put the Tabasco straight in the eggs.”That was Josh.

“Yes, I do,” Sawyer said.

“Not when you’re making them for someone else.What if she doesn’t like Tabasco in her eggs?”Josh asked.

“Who doesn’t like Tabasco in their eggs?”

“Probably a lot of people.”

She wasnoteating Tabasco in her eggs.Ugh.

Why were they here?Why were they doing this to her?

Because they were trying to sweeten her up.They didn’t want her selling her portion of the business and they thought breakfast would make her first day nicer.Andhernicer.

Well, they were wrong.It wouldn’t matter if they showed up with French press coffee and chocolate croissants—the only breakfast worth getting up at six a.m.for, and even that was pushing it—she wasnotgoing to get all mushy with them.

Last night on the dock with Owen had been close enough.Too close.Being held in his arms had made everything in her…well, mushy was one way to put it.Other words were soft.Warm.Tempted.Hot.Wet.

She cleared her throat and sat up quickly.

She needed to not be alone with Owen anymore, that was for sure.But she also needed to just avoid anything nice and friendly and familiar withallof them.

Breakfast in her grandma’s kitchen was one of those things.

Maddie had thought she could avoid the whole breakfast thing entirely since Cora had to be at the restaurant to feed the fishermen and others going off to work at the crack of dawn.

Maddie swung her legs over the edge of the mattress.Well, she was awake now.Only twenty-nine days to go.Not that she was keeping track.Except on the calendar in her phone and in her digital planner and the paper calendar she carried in her briefcase.

She stretched to her feet as Sawyer asked, “What the hell is that?”

“Hazelnut creamer,” Josh replied.

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