and there had been plenty of it. The September weather had cooperated. Tents had been set up outside, and huge buckets of seafood—blue crabs, shrimp, crawfish and lobster—had been served, as well as ribs cooked on the grill.
When he had a cookout, it was for his employees, although he always included his friends. He liked rewarding his workers whenever they broke sales records or if the company got a big business deal. He felt it was a good incentive. He also believed in giving his employees bonuses. That pretty much assured he was able to retain workers who were dependable and loyal.
He turned to look out at the bayou, which was practically in his backyard. As far as he was concerned, there was no better place to live. Those who called the bayou their home had a culture all their own. The people were a mixture of influences, such as Spanish, French, German, African, Irish and, in his case, Native American. Those with predominantly French ancestry still spoke the language. Together all the various groups made up the foundation of the Cajun culture.
“If you need help with anything, Kaegan, I will be glad to stay behind and help.”
Kaegan turned to find Sasha Johnson. He thought she’d left. Her brother, Farley, worked on one of his boats. Sasha had moved to the cove a few months ago after a bitter divorce to live with Farley. Kaegan had invited both siblings to the party, but Farley was battling a cold. Sasha had come alone. “Thanks for the offer, but I can manage.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“It was a nice party, Kaegan.”
“Thanks.” Landing the Chappell account had given him a reason to celebrate. His representative had been courting the huge restaurant chain for years, as Kaegan wanted to get in as their seafood supplier. Then out of the clear blue sky he’d gotten a call this summer. The Chappell Group needed more fresh seafood than their present supplier could provide and wanted to know if Chambray Seafood Shipping Company could deliver. Kaegan had said that he could and he had.
It had taken a full week of long harvesting hours, but in the end he and his crew had delivered, and the Chappell Group had remembered. When their contract with the other supplier ended, they had come to him with an awesome deal.
A flash of pink moving around in his house made Kaegan frown when he recalled just who’d worn that particular color tonight. He glanced back at Sasha. “Tell Farley that I hope he starts feeling better. Good night.” Without waiting for Sasha’s response, he quickly walked off, heading inside his home.
He heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Moving quickly, he walked in to find Bryce Witherspoon on a ladder putting something in one of the cabinets. Anger, to a degree he hadn’t felt in a long time, consumed him. Standing there in his kitchen on that ladder was the one and only woman he’d ever loved. The one woman he would risk his life for and recalled doing so once. She was the only woman who’d had his heart from the time they were in grade school. The only one he’d ever wanted to marry and have his babies. The only one who...
He realized he’d been standing recalling things he preferred not remembering. What he should be remembering was that she was the woman who’d broken his heart. “What the hell are you doing in here, Bryce?”
His loud, booming voice startled her. She jerked around, lost her balance and came tumbling off the ladder. He rushed over and caught her in his arms before she could hit the floor. His chest tightened, and his nerves, and another part of his anatomy, kicked in the moment his hands and arms touched the body he used to know as well as his own. A body he’d introduced to passion. A body he’d—
“Put me down, Kaegan Chambray!”
He started to drop her, just for the hell of it. She was such a damn ingrate. “Next time I’ll just let you fall on your ass,” he snapped, placing her on her feet and trying not to notice how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a mix of hazel and moss green, and were adorned by long eyelashes. She had high cheekbones and shoulder-length brown curly hair. Her skin was a gorgeous honey-brown and her lips, which were curved in a frown at the moment, had always been one of her most distinct traits.
“Let go of my hand, Kaegan!”
Her sharp tone made him realize he’d been standing there staring at her. He fought to regain his senses. “What are you doing, going through my cabinets?”
She rounded on him, tossing all that beautiful hair out of her face. “I was on that ladder putting your spices back in the cabinets.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?”
“Because I was helping you tidy up after the party by putting things away.”
She had to be kidding. “I don’t need your help.”
“Fine! I’ll leave, then. You can take Vashti home.”
Take Vashti home? What the hell is she talking about? He was about to ask when Vashti burst into the kitchen. “What in the world is going on? I heard the two of you yelling and screaming all the way in the bathroom.”
Kaegan turned to Vashti. “What is she talking about, me taking you home? Where’s Sawyer?”
“He got a call and had to leave. I asked Bryce to drop me off at home. I also asked her to assist me in helping you straighten up before we left.”
“I don’t need help.”
Bryce rounded on him. “Why don’t you tell her what you told me? Namely, that you don’t need my help.”
He had no problem doing that. Glancing back at Vashti, he said, “I don’t need Bryce’s help. Nor do I want it.”
Bryce looked at Vashti. “I’m leaving. You either come with me now or he can take you home.”
Vashti looked from one to the other and then threw up her hands in frustration. “I’m leaving with you, Bryce. I’ll be out to the car in a minute.”
When Bryce walked out of the kitchen, Kaegan turned to Vashti. “You had no right asking her to stay here after the party to do anything, Vashti. I don’t want her here. The only reason I even invite her is because of you.”
Kaegan had seen fire in Vashti’s eyes before, but it had never been directed at him. Now it was. She crossed the room, and he had a mind to take a step back, but he didn’t. “I’m sick and tired of you acting like an ass where Bryce is concerned, Kaegan. When will you wake up and realize what you accused her of all those years ago is not true?”
He glared at her. “Oh? Is that what she told you? News flash—you weren’t there, Vashti, and I know what I saw.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. So you can believe the lie she’s telling you all you want, but I know what I saw that night.”
Vashti drew in a deep breath. “Do you? Or do you only know what you think you saw?”
Then without saying anything else, she turned and walked out of the kitchen.
VASHTI
