Bayou Sweetheart

Chapter One

Brynn Pearson took a deep breath and soaked in the morning light. The world seemed softer here, the green of the trees above in stunning contrast with the blue sky and puffy clouds. Their trunks seemed to come straight out of the water, their limbs bending and twisting.

But what she really loved about Papillon, Louisiana, was the quiet.

She sat on the back porch of the small cabin and stared out over the water, her corgi resting contentedly on her lap. She absently ran her hand along Duke's fur and felt him yawn. Even her dog was at peace.

She could think here. How long had it been since she was still? She'd forgotten how good it felt to know she had a whole day with nothing planned. No agenda items. No meetings. No rehearsals or interviews. She'd been staying in the cabin on the grounds of the Butterfly Bayou Bed-and-Breakfast, owned and operated by the cutest family she'd ever seen. From what she could tell, no one even recognized her here. If the owners of the B and B did, they gave her absolutely no clue. Maybe it was the new hair and the lack of makeup.

Or maybe not everyone had watched her grow up on TV, and wasn't that the coolest thing?

Duke's head came up and swiveled.

"Hey, I've got your lunch along with some water and a couple of snacks."

She glanced up. One of the proprietors stood there with a big German shepherd and the little boy who'd been introduced as Luc. Harry Jefferys was a handsome man with a ready smile. He was one of those guys whose obvious goodness shined through.

He could have killed in Hollywood, had every casting director in the world at his feet. But she got the feeling the man was happy right where he was.

Duke jumped down and greeted the newcomers.

Brynn stood and offered to take the backpack from him. "Thanks. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your wife's cooking."

If she didn't watch it, she would be in trouble when production started up in a couple of weeks. Papillon was playing hell on her diet. When she'd decided to come out early to prep for her role, she'd banished her personal chef/sadistic purveyor of all things kale. Her character wouldn't have a chef. Or an assistant. Or a chick who walked behind her with a compact to make sure her skin didn't shine.

"She's the best, but if you want to try some real gumbo, you might want to go to her brother's place on the bay. It's called Guidry's," Harry offered.

"And bread pudding." Luc wore a Spider-Man T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair adorably messy. He knelt down to pet Duke. "Uncle Remy makes the best. And French fries."

"I'll have to give it a try," she promised. It all sounded good, and really, how much damage could a week off her ridiculous diet do?

Harry nodded. "There's a chicken salad sandwich in there, along with potato salad and some brownies. I also snuck some of last night's pork chop leftovers in a baggie for Duke."

The B and B was a pet-friendly place. Besides the big German shepherd named Shep, there was a pretty tabby cat who wandered the grounds. There were all kinds of what Harry called "critters." She was pretty sure last night she'd seen a group of raccoons running around. Or maybe it had been possums. "Thank you. He'll love it."

"I also packed some supplies you might need. Be careful out there. It's been raining the last week and the mud can be dangerous. All kinds of animals get stuck and can't get out. The trail you're going down takes you around the water. That little thing right there could get sucked right in."

Luc frowned up at his dad, a hand still on the corgi. "Brynn won't let her doggie get hurt."

"I'll stay on the trail. Promise." She looked back at Harry. "You said the light was good on the dock, right?" She wanted to spend the day sitting on that dock, sketching and soaking in her surroundings. She would take pictures so she could remember the details when she went to paint.

Harry frowned. "Well, the light is pretty much the same everywhere, ma'am."

Ah, the non-artist. They thought light existed merely so they could see and be warm. She knew light played all around her. Light illuminated far more than the way. "It's pretty?"

"Oh, yes, it's gorgeous, and you should be alone at this time of day," Harry agreed. He held out the keys. "All you have to do is go back down the drive, hang a right, and you'll see the turnoff about a mile down the road. The trail will take you to the dock."

"And I will be sure to avoid the mud."

Harry grinned. "You should. That mud is serious. Suck a man right down. We'll be back later this evening. You sure you don't want Sera to leave some dinner for you?"

"That's okay. I can pick up dinner. Maybe I'll go to Guidry's." She wanted to hang around the town, soak it in. If Harry and Sera were any indication, no one would bother her. She might even be able to blend in.

Maybe she would get to feel normal for half a second.

"Be careful out there." Harry put a hand on Luc's shoulder. "Come on, son. Let's go find Momma and Ella."

Luc gave her a heart-stoppingly sweet smile. "Bye, Brynn. See you tomorrow. Momma's making pancakes."

She'd had breakfast with the family this morning because she was their only guest for a couple of days. The production crew had bought the place out for three months. She'd sat down in the dining room all alone and thought about taking the food back to her room, when Seraphina asked if she wouldn't mind eating in the family kitchen since it would be easier for her to serve there.

"I'll be there, buddy." She'd loved it, loved the camaraderie and the way Harry and Sera worked together to take care of their kiddos. She'd enjoyed hanging with Luc and watching baby Ella laugh.

Breakfast at home usually consisted of making sure she didn't get a single extra gram of fat while her mom was on the phone with her agent or one of her other clients or whoever had gained her ire overnight and her sister prepared for yet another audition.

All in all, she liked pancakes and baby spit-up and a big German shepherd who waited patiently for one of the kids to drop food.

She waved good-bye, picked up her pup, and then headed into one of the three cozy cabins located around the grounds of the gorgeous B and B. She and Duke were in the one closest to the water, and she'd gone to sleep the last couple of nights to the sounds of the bayou. The noises of the bayou were for the most part charming and lulling. They only once made her wake up in fear that there was some kind of wolf outside her door. But that was crazy. It had probably been a dog. Maybe Shep liked to howl at the moon.

She gathered up what she needed and headed for Harry's truck. Brynn had been thrilled when he'd offered her his truck for the day. The car she was owed by contract wouldn't be delivered until the actual film production started, though honestly, her mother and Ally would likely drive her to the set each day and then use the car as their own.

Freedom. That was what that banged-up Ford represented. She had a few weeks of freedom before the production team landed and she had to be Bria Knight again. For now, she could be Brynn.

She settled Duke into his safety seat, got into the truck, her lunch and sketchpad tucked away in the backpack Harry had given her, and started down the road.

It wasn't their first adventure. Since she'd gotten Duke as a puppy four years ago, he'd been her constant companion. He'd traveled with her to Europe when the show filmed there. She remembered a time when she hadn't had a dog and she'd been lonely on set. Duke had changed that and she viewed being able to have him with her as a new stage in her life, a better stage.

Now she was on the cusp of another change. This new project was supposed to catapult her past her childhood stardom and into full-fledged adult movie star.

The trouble was, she wasn't sure she wanted it.

Brynn took a deep breath and turned where Harry had told her to. The truth of the matter was she didn't have much of a choice. This had been her path for a very long time, and her family depended on her. Unless she found a way to make her paintings sell for what she made per movie, she was out of luck.

Her cell trilled and Brynn barely bit back a groan as she pulled over to the side of the dirt road. Harry had suggested parking here and hiking the rest of the way. This had to be the place since there was already a big SUV parked on the other side. It was black and white with police lights on top. Emblazoned on the side were the words Papillon Parish Sheriff. She hoped there wasn't trouble.

She glanced down and realized she couldn't avoid this call. If she did, the person on the other end of the line would call the governor of Louisiana and send in the guard to find her. So she answered. "Hey, Mom."

"Did you look at the scripts I sent you?" Her mother rarely wasted time.

"Not yet." She unclipped Duke from the safety harness, exchanging it for his leash. He was a wanderer, and that could be dangerous here. He wasn't used to the terrain, and apparently there were gators who would think her sweet baby was a light snack.

She put her mom on speaker. If she didn't get moving, she would miss the good light because her mother could talk forever.

An impatient huff came over the line. "Why? I thought you were going to read them on the plane."

She'd meant to but then she'd started a book and the hours had flown by, and when she'd gotten here she'd realized she simply needed a break. Not that she could tell her mom that. There were no breaks in her mother's world. "I got caught up replying to some emails. You know what a time suck that can be."

She felt only a little guilty about lying. If she didn't, she would get a long lecture on how she should never stop hustling. She grabbed the backpack and Duke hopped out of the truck, eager to get going.

"Yes, I do, but I need an answer on those scripts or they'll send them to someone else," her mother insisted. "We need to lock down projects for next year or it will look like no one wants to hire you. I don't want anyone to think that the big directors are waiting to see how you pull off this project. It could set you back months."

That didn't sound so bad. Would it be wrong to take a couple of months off? She'd been working almost nonstop since the age of five. A couple of months to enjoy the fruits of her labor didn't seem like a crime. But again, she was trying to avoid the hustle lecture that would inevitably lead to some story of how her mom had to work twenty-two-plus hours a day while wearing hot designer clothes and six-inch heels right before walking a runway for some dastardly designer. "I'll have an answer for you tomorrow."

She could read the scripts tonight. After she got in some sketching time.

"I think you should consider the romantic comedy. They're talking about casting Stephen." Her mom's voice had gone low, coaxing. Like the idea of working with Stephen would change everything.

Stephen Cane was a dear friend. She'd worked with him many times, but the love connection her mom had always hoped for had never panned out. "I'll think about it. If the script's good, I'll say yes."

"It's adequate, and that's all that matters. You know it's likely to change five times before you actually film the damn thing. The important part is that they want you for the lead, and working with Stephen would make a good story."

Her mother was very concerned with a good story, and not the kind that was in a script. She wanted the press to pay more attention to her daughter. She wanted Brynn to be this generation's Julia Roberts or Reese Witherspoon. America's new sweetheart. She wanted the next decade to be about banking as much money, power, and influence as possible.

She wanted to ensure her daughters would never, ever find themselves in the position she'd been in after their dad died.

"Mom, it's not happening between me and Stephen, but I promise I'll pick between these two projects." Her mom had been forced to go from pampered trophy wife to drowning in debt with two children and no husband. They'd gone from living in a mansion to homeless almost overnight, and her mother had hauled them out of poverty, and for that Brynn would always respect her.

"Honey, you know you don't have to actually care about him," her mom said, voice softening. "Just give the press something to write about. If you don't, they'll start questioning why you're not dating."

Harry had been right. The trail was easy to find. Someone had cleared a walkway through the trees and brush. She could hear the sound of water gurgling nearby and for a moment she was in the shade, the trees above forming a canopy. "I'm not dating because I have no time to date. I've gone from project to project for years."

"Another reason to have someone like Stephen around," her mom replied. "He's attractive, talented, and he already escorts you to the red-carpet events. All you need to do is have a meal with him every now and then and those lesbian rumors will be gone."

She rolled her eyes. "I told you I don't care about those. I have lesbian friends. They're awesome. If someone wants to confuse my sexuality, they should go for it. I don't owe anyone an explanation." A thought hit. "Hey, by your reckoning, I could fake date one of them."

A low growl came over the line. "You're impossible, Brynn. Pick a project. I'll see you soon."

The line went blissfully dead, and Brynn slid her phone into her back pocket.

She hadn't seen any evidence of a sheriff being out here.

She hoped he wasn’t fishing.

Correction. She hoped he or she wasn’t fishing. It was awfully sexist of her to think whoever had driven that SUV could only be a dude. It could totally be a woman.

Duke trotted beside her, and she was glad she’d put him on his leash because the trail did get close to the water. She couldn’t see the mud Harry was talking about, but she believed him.

In the distance, she heard the sound of a dog barking.

Duke stopped, his whole body tensing up before he barked back.

The barking in the distance became desperate, and Brynn started to jog toward it because that dog sounded scared. She’d grown up around dogs. Two of the series she’d been on had “family” dogs, and she’d learned how to work with them. Hanging out with the dogs and their handlers had been one of the best parts of her job. She knew what a fearful bark sounded like, and this dog was scared.

She would also bet the dog was big.

“Hey, calm down, girl.” That was a human voice. A deep, masculine voice.

She rounded the curve on the trail and stopped because a big, gorgeous man was standing thigh-deep in the water, and he wasn’t alone. He had a terrified pit bull mix around his shoulders, clinging to him. The dog had obviously spent some time in that water because she was wet, covered in mud to her hindquarters.

“Sweetie, if you don’t stop moving, I’ll drop you, and I really don’t want to drop you,” the man said. He was in sweats and a soaking-wet T-shirt that clung to his very muscular chest. He’d obviously not gotten Harry’s memo about staying away from the water.

Duke barked and his stubby legs moved, stretching the leash to the max, because despite the fact that he was a little dog, he firmly believed he could handle anything. She was sure his doggie brain had plans to save everyone.

The man’s head came around at the sound of the bark and his eyes flared. “Hey. Wow. Hello. I could use some help here if you don’t mind.”

He was stunning, and she’d been around a lot of attractive men. But there was something about this one. Maybe it was the fact that he was trying his hardest to comfort a frightened dog. Or it could be the chiseled jaw and that bit of scruff that made an almost-too-pretty face rugged.

He was in trouble, and she was almost drooling. This was not who she was. She was practical and tactical, as one of her old directors liked to put it. She got the job done.

“Of course. Let me take off my shoes and roll up my jeans and I’ll help you with her.” She would have to secure Duke, too, or he would go right in that water.

“Absolutely not.” He nearly shouted the words. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to join me. I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We were on our daily jog and Dolly here decided to try to play with the fish. She got stuck in the mud. I got her out and, well, I’m worried I live here now. And it’s not a good place after dark, if you know what I mean. The neighbors have lots of teeth.”

“I can call 911.”

“Please, don’t. I’m a deputy for the local sheriff’s department and honestly, I would rather die here than listen to the crap I’ll have to take for the next . . . well, forever. It’ll become a whole urban legend.”