Chapter 1
Lucas Horville pulled his head up off the bar.
Where the hell am I anyway?
Squinting his burning eyes, he looked at the patrons of the barroom in the fuzzy reflection of the mirror behind the bar.
It was Saturday night. He knew that much. If it were a weeknight, he'd still be in the shop, finishing up one of his many detail jobs.
He was drunk.
As he rubbed his eyelids with a thumb and forefinger, he heard the French band start their second set of the night.
Shit! Now he remembered!
He was in Harrisburg. It was a tiny town northwest of Lafayette, Louisiana. The family had all gathered at his oldest brother's house for supper.
Luke should have known they'd try to pull the crap they had tonight. They'd done their version of an intervention on him, demanding that he straighten out, give up the booze, and quit working so hard.
They just didn't understand. Luke had demons riding him--the kind of which his family would have no conception.
"Hey, buddy?" he heard from someone at his elbow.
Turning his head slightly, he looked over his elbow toward the person wanting his attention.
She was a short, cute little blond. Luke raised his head higher. "Yeah?" Great conversation, stud.
"You're new around here, aren't you?" The good-looking woman, nicely dressed in a short black skirt, frilly white shirt, and five-inch high black heels, scooted up on the bar stool next to him.
Luke sat up, leaned his elbows on the bar, and took another swig of beer, trying to keep his gaze straight ahead. Why am I noticing the way she's dressed, anyway? "Yeah, I guess you could say that." He knew this wouldn't be going anywhere, because he wouldn't let it.
"What's your name?" The unknown woman put a slender, cream-complexioned hand against his dark, tanned forearm.
Luke looked down at it as if mesmerized. What he wouldn't give to be able to take this woman off to some hotel so he could screw her brains out. One year. That was how long he'd been in his state of self-imposed celibacy--his own private hell.
"Luke." He told the woman, but didn't bother giving a last name because there was no point. Reluctantly, his gaze traveled up from her hand to her attractive face. He wouldn't be getting to know her normally or in the biblical sense.
"Nice name, you here with anybody?"
Although he was tempted to turn away from her, he silently watched the other patrons of the bar as they walked around, smoking cigarettes, drinking, yammering to each other, and generally ignoring the two of them. It was his way of mentally turning off. His way of avoiding temptation.
The old building shaking with the foot stomps of the couples jitterbugging on the dance floor told him the house band was well into their second set. Te Cher's was the name of the place. Sounds of pool cues hitting balls rang from the two pool tables prominently placed as one walked into the barroom.
Luke couldn't help himself. "No, you?"
"Well, I was supposed to meet someone here tonight, but he's late, and now I'm pissed off."
After her angry words, Luke pulled his gaze away from the activity of the bar patrons to give her a closer look. For some reason, the woman reminded him of somebody. Who does she remind me of?
"That's too bad," Luke said, and it was too bad, because then she wouldn't be sitting next to him, tempting him to do what he knew he shouldn't.
"Not for you," the woman said as she slipped her hand off his forearm and slid it down to his thigh, and squeezed.
Luke swallowed harshly. Fucking shit! He was in trouble now. The amount of alcohol in his system was beyond what he usually needed to help him forget his demons. Instead, it screwed with his resolve, making him desperately want to take her up on her seductive offer.
When Luke heard a hush come over the patrons in the bar, he casually glanced over his shoulder.
Damn it! His three brothers, Jonas, Jubal, and Corey, stood at the entrance. They scoped out the dingy, smoky barroom until they came upon Luke and his companion, and strode in their direction. It was easy to tell they were all related. All the Horville men were tall, and dark--thanks to their Native American and Cajun ancestors, with the distinctive Horville facial features. The only differences were in eye color, and Corey, the youngest Horville brother, had sandy-colored hair. Luke more closely resembled Jonas, their eldest half-brother, with his black hair and eye color.
His body rigid, Luke swiveled to face the bar. He was pissed, and certainly didn't want to listen to their shit right now.
He heard the footsteps stop behind him. He sensed rather than saw his companion turn to see who was behind them.
"Fuck!" she popped out with, causing Luke to glance at her in surprise.
Luke himself turned around when he heard Jonas say, "Ida Mae, long time, no see."
When his brother, Jubal, asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, "Mother Dugas, or should I say, Grandmother Dugas, how've you been?"
Ida Mae's face contorted in a look of extreme distaste. "You bastard, Jubal Horville," she muttered.
Luke was almost speechless. He looked at the woman with new eyes. "Mother Dugas?"
"Oh, sorry," Jubal said, tongue-in-cheek, "I've never introduced you two before. Luke, this is Ida Mae Dugas. Lizabeth's biological mother. Ida Mae, this is my brother, Luke."
"You're kidding me, right?" Luke returned, completely taken by surprise at the identity of the woman who'd been trying to tempt him. She didn't look old enough to have a daughter his sister-in-law's age, much less be a grandmother to his niece, Cami.
Their half-brother, Jonas, and his wife Nikki had raised Jubal's wife, Lizabeth.
Corey, their shy brother, stood quietly. But the look on his face spoke volumes; Mother Dugas didn't impress him.
Now that Luke knew her identity, he wasn't impressed, either. She might look hot, but all the things they'd heard about her didn't prove much to recommend her as a friend or a lover.
"Didn't his resemblance to me make you realize he was kin, Ida Mae?" Jonas asked her with a hint of an amused grin hovering on his lips.
"How was I supposed to know how many of you bastards your old man whelped?" Ida Mae had a smart mouth on her.
For the first time, Corey put in his two cents. "I'd mind that mouth of yours, lady."
Ida Mae glared at Corey for his comment, but actually obeyed him. Luke's younger brother might be shy, but there was a quiet command about him that caused people to take notice when he said something.
"I guess you're waiting for someone else?" This hopeful sounding hint came from Jonas. Obviously, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of rising to her bait. The woman was also Jonas Horville's ex-wife.
"That's none of your damn business anymore, Jonas."
Jonas nodded, on his face a look of relief that fact was so. "You're so right, Ida. You have fun tonight, you hear." As soon as Jonas said the words, he dismissed Ida Mae and turned toward Luke.
Luke could sense the petite woman's fury at being so roundly dismissed. "You Horville men think you're hot shit. I bet I could prove you're not." Now what the hell did she mean by that?
"Sorry, Maw Maw, we ain't got the time tonight. Maybe some other man can let you prove it. We've got our womenfolk at home waiting for us." His brother, Jubal, really was trying to egg the woman on.
Ida Mae's fair complexion suffused with red fury. Her body stiff, she hopped off the bar stool and stood facing the three newcomers.
It was actually Corey, ever the peacemaker, who said, "That's enough, Jubal. I think we should get what we came for and go home."
Shit! What they came for was him. Luke could put up a fight, but that might start the whole bar brawling. Although the four brothers were physically fit, they might not be able to take on the twenty or so men in the barroom itself. He'd wait until they got outside to make his displeasure known.
The door to the bar opened again. Thank the lord, Ida Mae's attention left the Horville men and she rushed over to greet the elegantly dressed blond man. He looked completely out of place, more like a lawyer or wealthy businessman; someone who would frequent an upscale club rather than a humble Cajun bar like Te Cher's.
When Jubal and Jonas caught sight of the man, they frowned.
"Come on, let's get outta here," Corey announced, obviously realizing things might go south if they didn't leave now.
Luke stood, but swayed. His two older brothers moved to help him. "Don't touch me," he muttered to them through gritted teeth.
They didn't touch him, but they did wait until he went ahead of them before following.
When they passed Ida Mae and the newcomer, Jubal remarked, "I'm sure Lizabeth will be happy to know you're seeing Gary Breaux again, Mother Dugas."
Both Ida Mae and this Gary Breaux looked at Jubal as if they'd both like to kill him. Jubal just grinned at their reaction before the quartet of brothers left the bar.
Once they were out in the fresh air, Luke felt worse than he had in the bar, barely resisting the urge to heave. Now all he could think about was dragging his sorry ass home, crawling into his bed and blessed oblivion.
"Corey," Jonas directed their youngest brother, "drive his bike home, would you?"
"Like hell," Luke couldn't help the automatic protest. That bike was his baby; no one rode her but him.
"Like hell, nothing," Jubal informed him, "It's either that or we throw her and you into the bed of the truck. What's it gonna to be?"
"Fuck!" Luke cursed; he'd had it, and swung his fist at the nearest object of his wrath, which just happened to be Jubal.
Jubal ducked easily, laughing when Luke's wild punch missed its target.
Luke was too drunk to stop himself from sailing past because of his hard follow-through. When he hit the dirt-packed ground hard, his breath whooshed out. Pressing his arms down to rise quickly, he grunted as his brother's not so light weight knocked him back down.
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