Page 23 of Landry

He grinned. “Deal. I’ll be right back.”

Camille entered the house and hurried through, picking up toys, straightening pillows on the sofa and tossing old magazines in the trash. Yeah, he’d already been through her house and seen that it wasn’t exactly pristine, but she felt better when it looked a little more presentable.

She’d loaded the few breakfast dishes from the sink into the dishwasher by the time Landry came in with two bags full of groceries.

Camille blinked. “Wow. Does it really take that many groceries to make a pot of gumbo?”

He gave her a crooked grin and raised the bag in his right hand. “This bag is for the gumbo. The other is a six-pack of beer and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc wine.”

“My favorite.” Camille raised her eyebrows. “How did you know?”

“I’d like to say I made a good guess, but I actually ran into Shelby at Broussard's. She told me what to get.”

As much as she didn’t want to like this man, as dangerous as it might be to let him under her skin, Camille couldn’t help herself. She was a little impressed with the lengths he’d gone to. At the same time, she reminded herself that he was there to see to her safety. It was his job.

Still, the bottle of her favorite wine was a nice touch.

“Thank you,” she said and took the bag of groceries from him.

After laying the items out on the counter, she reached into the cupboard for a wine glass. “Do you need a glass for your beer?”

“Not necessary.” He twisted the top of one of the beer bottles and waited until she’d poured herself a glass of wine.

She held up her glass. “Here’s to not burning the rice.”

“To not burning the rice.” Landry touched his bottle lightly against her wine glass and drank a long swallow of his beer.

Camille sipped her wine, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat, easing some of the tension of the day.

While Landry got the chicken cooking in one pan and stirred the roux in another, Camille chopped onions, celery and bell peppers.

Over the next hour, they worked together, adding the vegetables, chicken, shrimp and sausage, along with Cajun seasoning, salt and pepper, letting it all simmer while they steamed the rice. Several times, they bumped into each other, reaching for spices or the wooden spoon to stir the soup.

Each time Camille touched Landry, that sock of electricity zipped through her system, making her increasingly aware of the man. How could she be comfortable at the same time as she was excited by merely being in the same room with a man?

She’d never felt this way with Richard. Then again, he’d never offered to cook or do anything else that resembled housework or yardwork.

Camille set places for three at the kitchen table, poured a cup of milk for Ava and refilled her glass with wine.

When she turned back to Landry, he wasn’t where she’d left him by the stove or anywhere else in the small kitchen. How did he move so silently?

Voices sounded from down the hallway.

She found Landry with Ava in the cottage’s only bathroom. Ava stood on her booster step, her hands frothy with soapsuds.

Landry stood beside her, his hands also covered in soap bubbles.

“I made more bubbles than Mr. Landry.” Ava held up her hands, soap and water dripping down her arms.

“Yes, you did,” Camille said. “Better rinse them before you drop any more on the floor.”

Ava dipped her hands beneath the running water.

Landry helped make sure she got all the suds and all of his before turning off the water. Then he grabbed the hand towel and dried her hands and arms, touching the towel to the tip of her nose. “Good job.”

Ava touched her finger to his nose. “Good job,” and laughed.

The two looked so natural together, making Camille’s heart pinch just a little. By swearing off men, was she cheating Ava out of the love and understanding a father could give her?

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