Page 4 of Sweet Home Louisiana

“Whiskey?”she asked.She didn’t seem worried about the possibility, just curious.

He fought his grin.She might drink martinis or something now, but she’d first gotten drunk on good old “bayou whiskey,” as Kenny had called it.She wasn’t intimidated by a little you-can-drink-it-or-remove-paint-with-it liquor.“Kenny’s moonshine.”

Maddie gave a little smile that seemed slightly wistful before lifting her cup.She took that first swallow without so much as a wince.

Right.Kenny’s moonshine.Maddie’s grandpa’s moonshine.

Owen poured more into an empty, clean-ish plastic cup from theStop It Now, the convenience store at the end of the road that led to Boys of the Bayou.

He was going to need this as much as she did.

They both needed to take the edge off of…everything.

He toasted her and she touched her cup to his.Then they both drank.Their eyes locked.

Owen swallowed the set-your-gut-on-fire liquor.Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you at Tommy’s funeral,” he finally managed.Okay, not really small talk, but he had to saysomethingand that was the first thing on his mind.

She nodded and held her cup out.“There wasn’t much to say.”

Yeah, maybe.But he’d still felt empty after she’d left.Much like the bottle of tequila he’d woken up with the next morning.

He poured another inch of moonshine into her cup.

If he thought too hard about everything she’d been through, it twisted his heart like someone wringing out a sponge.There was something about Madison Allain that had always made him want to fight dragons for her.When he was seventeen, he’d assumed it was the deeply ingrained protective streak that ran strong in the male side of the Landry clan.

But he’d only felt it for Maddie.Which had made him wonder if it wasactuallythe voodoo curse Sarah Cutter had put on him when he’d left her on Valentine’s Day to go pick Maddie up from a date-gone-bad.

That was actually more believable than some genetic penchant for over-the-top romantic gestures.You didn’t grow up on the bayou without respecting voodoo.Even if you didn’t believe in it fully, you sure as hell knew not to mess with it.

And now the woman who made him bonkers was sitting a foot away from him.With her legs crossed and a whole lot of smooth, tanned skin showing.

Nah, this wasn’t genetics or a curse.This was just good old-fashioned attraction.He wanted to run his hand up her leg and under her skirt.He didn’t want to elope with her.

Anymore.

He cleared his throat and shifted on the edge of the desk.“How’s California?”he asked, lifting his cup.

She shrugged.“Good.Fine.”

“How’s the museum?”

“Art gallery,” she corrected.

He’d known that.She’d always been a big fan of museums of all kinds, so he just automatically put her there when thinking of her in a big building with lots of beautiful and interesting displays.“Right.How’s the art gallery?”

“Good.Fine.”

He took another swallow of moonshine.He talked to total strangers all day every day.He could surely make small talk with a woman he’d known since birth.Even if he had been in love with her at one time.And couldn’t quite manage to get his attention off her legs.“How was your trip today?”

She nodded.“Good.”

“And fine?”he asked dryly.

One corner of her mouth curled.“Yeah.Fine.”

He reached for the bottle again.He was going to end up smashed simply because his options here were polite conversation, grabbing her and kissing her, or drinking.The chit-chat was annoying him and kissing her was out of the question.So drinking it was.

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