Page 7 of Sweet Home Louisiana

He fucking hated wine.“Well, I like the heat.You know that I’m always in favor of anything that encourages the removal of clothes.”

She gave him an unimpressed look.“And you’re not really the type to…let your alcohol breathe before shooting it back.”

He eyed the cup she held.“If that stuff breathes too much, it might get up and walk outta here on its own.”

She tipped the rest back.

“So you’re pissed about being here because it’s hot and there’s no wine?”he asked.

“That’s part of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

She sighed.“Everything.”

“Real nice, Mad,” he said, annoyed.He poured more liquor.

“It’s just…agitating and uncomfortable in every way.I just wanted to get the hell home.Back to where it was peaceful and quiet and…” She swallowed.

“And?”His tone was tight.Just like his chest.She didn’t like it here.She didn’t want to be here.Not for Tommy’s funeral and not now.

“Where I’m in control.”She blew out a breath.“Here, I never know what’s going to happen, or how I’m going to react.Though Idoknow it’s not going to be levelheaded and calm and cool.”

Owen had never met her grandparents from California, but Tommy had told them that his mom’s parents were wealthy.Sophisticated.Cultured.The type of people who would hang out in an art gallery rather than a broken-down shack/bar by the bayou.Levelheaded people.Calm and cool people.People who probably couldn’t even handle a little cayenne.

Nobody downherewas calm and cool.Yeah, they could handle the heat.

So could Maddie, dammit.Of all kinds.Maybe she was used to air-conditioning and ocean breezes keeping her cool.Maybe she hadn’t burned anything down in San Francisco.But she was a bayou girl deep down and that meant spice was in her blood.

Suddenly, he had an intense—possibly even crazy—need to make sure she wasn’t calm and cool.

That was bad.Dangerous.He knew that.But hell, she was already expecting to be agitated and…hot.And Sawyer wanted them to remind her what it was like to be here.Well, here it was hot.In many ways.

“You’re not your father, Madison,” Owen said, low and firm.That had been what had driven her away.She’d gotten on that airplane to California happily.She’d seen her father lose his mind and land in jail, likely for the rest of his life, and her family fall apart, and after the month she’d spent with Owen just prior to that—sneaking out at night, having sex for the first time, burning people’s sheds down—she’d been convinced she was going to end up out-of-control and in trouble.The permanent, life-altering kind of trouble.

She’d gone to California to escape all of that.

She hadn’t been back since.

She was shaking her head now.“You don’t know that I’m not just like him.”She sat up straighter.“I ended up injailafter only a couple of hours in this town.”

“Airport jail,” he said.“Come on.”

“I have flown literally a hundred times and never ended up in airport jail, Owen.”

Maybeshe had a point.“So you’ve been staying away from Autre because—”

“It makes me crazy,” she filled in.“And now I’m stuck here for thirty days because of a partnership agreement ourgrandfatherswrote up, in ink on notebook paper, while drinking”—she held up her cup—“this.This agreement should not be legally binding.”

Suddenly, for a reason he couldn’t name exactly, Owen felt a rush of satisfaction go through him.As if things were working out quite nicely.Even though there was actually not a bit of proof of that.“Mark Maillard says it is.Signed and dated.Even had witnesses.”

When Sawyer had told him and Josh about the partnership agreement Leo had given him, Owen had thought for sure it was going to be a huge pain in the ass.

He’d been right.But it was also going to be fun.

“See?Crazy.Everything about this place is crazy.”

Owen could see that she was getting a little worked up.She was breathing faster and her cheeks were pink and…she looked gorgeous.

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