A Perfect Dilemma

  A Perfect Dilemma

  Book #3

  A Perfect Secret Series

  By Zoe Dawson

  Published by Blue Moon Creative, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright by Karen Alarie. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Author Note

  I make every effort to research thoroughly all subject matter, but I’m not infallible. If you find anything in my novels that I have incorrect, please feel free to let me know.

  ISBN: 978-0-9913515-8-9

  Find Zoe Dawson on the web!

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  Cover Design by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Acknowledgments

  I'd like to thank beta readers Sue Stewart, Leisha O’Connor, and Gail Demaree. Thank you, also, to Faith Freewoman for her excellent advice and editing skills and to my proofreader, Judy Witvoet DeVries. A big thank you also to Sarah Hansen for her fabulous cover design.

  Dedication

  To dreams, wishes, hope and the raw courage it takes to make them come true.

  Chapter One

  Braxton

  I was pissed most of the time. And why the fuck not? I had every right to be. I lived in a town full of people who still believed I was nothing but white trash, born of generations of white trash, all the way back to the War Between the States. My thievin’ daddy up and left us with even more shit to deal with. My ma has had to bear the shame of being called an Outlaw only because she married my daddy. And she had to raise, feed and dress her triplet boys all alone.

  The only things in this world that meant anything to me were my ma, my two identical brothers, my sister-in-law and nephew, and my soon to be sister-in-law…even though I would walk across gators before I’d admit it. And, the restaurant and bar I owned—Outlaws. In that order.

  All right, there was one more thing, but I never let her in my head or anywhere else inside or outside my body if I could help it.

  She was the first step on the road to ruin and, like the smart guy I was, I steered clear. Well, mostly…it was damned hard for me to say no to that darlin’.

  I was usually at Outlaws at five am to serve breakfast hot and in abundance to my patrons. I loved the bayou first thing in the morning anyway. Some mornings I would slack and let my manager Jackie open for me. I was, after all, the boss, and sometimes keeping my ass in bed was what I wanted to do.

  And this morning I had wanted to sleep in.

  But instead I was here, firing up the stove and getting everything set up, because my tripdar, the sixth-sense warning signal I got from being part of a threesome, was working overtime. I couldn’t sleep. There was something…up with one of my brothers, maybe even both of them. I couldn’t imagine what, because both of them were blissfully happy these days. It was all fucking rainbows and unicorns around here.

  Booker was getting married to Aubree Walker, the love of his life. He would soon be living in New Orleans. I got a pang over that. It was only two hours away, but I liked Booker to be where I could see him any time I wanted. But I had to share him now because he loved Aubree, and I wouldn’t ever come between him and his girl. She was going to study to become a doctor, definitely a worthwhile pursuit. But I didn’t like the idea of my brother living away from Suttontowne.

  Boone, my other brother, was already married to Verity Fairchild, now Outlaw. He was staying put in Suttontowne, and I was happy about it. They had the cutest kid—Duel. Okay, I’m biased because I’m his uncle. Sue me.

  I opened the doors at six and went back to the kitchen. David, one of my cooks, was heating up the griddle when I turned around and stopped dead.

  There was a guy standing in my kitchen. Not the kind of guy you would expect to see in Outlaws. He was dressed in a prissy white suit, prim yellow tie, his short blond hair slicked back. He had blue eyes that revealed nothing but disdain and surprise. Maybe he expected me to be roasting gator and cottonmouth back here. I detested him on sight.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Braxton Outlaw?” he said my name like it was a foul odor, his nose wrinkling. I balled up my fist. I did mention I was pissed most of the time, right?

  “Don’t hit him,” Boone said, rushing into the kitchen before I could start a ruckus. Booker was on his heels.

  I gave Boone and Booker one of my are-you-both-batshit-crazy? looks.

  “I can explain.”

  “What he said,” Booker pointed to Boone, looking breathless and more than a little anxious.

  I eyed Booker. Book was usually as cool as a cucumber, so what the hell was wrong, here? “Get to explaining, huckleberry, because I’m about to deck your friend.”

  “He’s not my friend,” Boone said.

  “Then it’s back to my original question. Who the fuck is he?”

  “Jeff Morgan, the manager at the county club.”

  I clasped my belt buckle. It kept my hand from tightening further. I didn’t get to hit the punching bag until after the breakfast rush, so we were in a danger zone right now. I needed the pounding to get my mind clear and all the anger stored in my gut to go away.

  Boone took a breath and glared at the guy. “I told you to wait and let me talk to him.”

  “I don’t have time to worry about your brother’s temper, Boone.”

  I took a step forward and, before I could curb it, I gave him a sample of my temper. I grabbed his shirt at the neck and shoved him and his fucking condescending attitude against the wall. “Don’t talk to my brother like that.”

  Boone grabbed one arm and Booker the other. Both attempted to pry me away from the asshole, but I wouldn’t budge. I shrugged them off. “Start talking, or your face is going to get up close and personal with my nice white shell parking lot.

  “Braxton, c’mon,” Boone said, pleading in his voice.

  “Your brother said you could bail us out,” the jerk sneered.

  I still wanted to deck him. But my brothers wouldn’t have told him jack shit if they didn’t have a stake in this.

  I gritted my teeth and turned my head to pin Boone with my I’m-going-to-kick-your-ass look.

  “I can explain.”

  “Boone…you bring this…jerk into my bar and grill, and he treats us like shit, yet he wants me to do him a favor? I don’t fucking think so.” I hauled the guy toward the swinging doors. He struggled, but I didn’t let go. I slammed through them with Boone and Booker hot on my heels swearing a blue streak.

  “Wait…” Boone said, but I kept hauling. When I got to the front door, ready to throw this bastard out of my place, Boone said in a rush, “The favor isn’t for him! It’s for River Pearl.”

  I froze. Now I understood why my tripdar had been going haywire.

  “River Pearl,” I repeated through clenched teeth. Against my will my whole body tightened, including my dick. Of course. Just the thought of her made me hard.

  Boone backed up and Booker hung back, eyein
g me. Assessing whether I was going to lose my shit or be reasonable. I chuckled. When was I ever reasonable?

  “C’mon, Brax. Cool off. She’s Verity’s friend and she needs help.”

  “Whose idea was this?” I said letting go of and forgetting the blowhard in the expensive suit.

  Booker glanced at Boone and I had my answer. He backpedaled until he hit the bar. This time it was his shirt front I grabbed.

  “I’m the daddy of the nephew you adore,” he said, his eyes going sly.

  “You’ll heal.”

  “Brax. I was hired to do some landscaping there, and I found out the caterer for her ladies’ lunch flaked out. You know how society works. She’ll be crucified if it flops. C’mon. Verity would expect us to help her friend and so would Breebree. Right, Book?”

  Booker nodded, moving closer.

  “Ah, shit, now you’re playing the family card, you fuckers.” They both knew I had a soft spot for their women, because they had the courage to stand up to the people in Suttontowne and, in Verity’s case, her preacher daddy, and pledge themselves to Outlaws. It was more than I was willing to do. And he was right. I adored Duel.

  Boone smirked and gave me our patented Outlaw smile. It didn’t work on me. “She’ll owe you, Brax. If you do this, she’ll owe you big.”

  I uncurled my fingers. I turned to look at the guy standing by the door. I could deny it all I wanted. But when it came to River Pearl, I turned into the man who couldn’t say no. River Pearl was intrinsic, like the H in H20. “What time is this shindig, and how many people do I need to feed?” I growled.

  The jerk huffed out a breath, almost as if he’d been hoping I would deck my brother and refuse to help. I could see he thought I was nothing but a loose cannon—and white trash. But I was used to that look. I’d lived with it all my life. I used it to my advantage. They always underestimated me.

  “This shindig is the Daughters of the Confederacy ladies’ luncheon,” he huffed with air quotes around ladies luncheon.

  “Well la-de-fucking-da. I’ll make sure I cook everything with my pinky fully extended and my nose in the air.” Boone and Booker laughed, then covered it with coughs.

  I was sure his lips tightened to hold back the words, go to hell, but he was too desperate, and I was his only option.

  “Noon, but be there at ten-thirty. The head count is forty with some upper-crusters from Lafayette as well. So, we can’t have…your usual…fare.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “You haven’t even tasted my usual fare, Jack.”

  “Jeff.”

  “Whatever.”

  “What are you going to serve? This is a high-class soireé and you’re just a cook.”

  I turned and set my hands on my hips, smirking. “No fucking finger sandwiches.”

  “Boone…” The douche’s irritated gaze transferred to my brother.

  My brother’s expression hardened and the sparkle disappeared. Boone looked dangerous when he was dead serious. “My brother’s an amazing chef, Jeff. So shut the fuck up before he changes his mind, and let’s get back to work. You’re lucky he agreed to do this at all. He already works his ass off, and this is going to make him have to work harder. So not another word.” He looked me in the eyes and added, with unwavering confidence that had nothing to do with stroking my ego, “Trust me. They will love it.”

  Jeff, the king of all huckleberries, sashayed a few steps and started spouting instructions. “You’ll need to provide servers, and we don’t have a bartender available. I would have helped her, but we already have a huge wedding and two other luncheons booked today. But we do have a fully stocked—”

  “I prefer my kitchen. I’ll be there at eleven. Be ready to serve at noon. I will bring two of my employees.”

  “We’ll need more than two.”

  “Not with my people, you won’t.” I named a price and his eyes widened. “That’s apiece. My fee is triple that, plus the food. I’ll also provide a bartender.” I told him what he could add to the bill to pay for it.

  “But…” he sputtered. “I’ll have to clear it with Ms. Sutton.”

  “You do that,” I said as Boone and Booker walked across the room, each grabbing one arm, and dragged him, still sputtering, out of the bar.

  I slammed back into the kitchen, yelling, “Jackie. Change of plans. Nix the quiches today. I’m going to need all the puff pastry. I’ve got a job for you.”

  “What did you do now, Boss Man?”

  I gave her my patented Outlaw grin. Boone wasn’t the only one who had The Swoon going for him. It worked on her, too, even though she was pushing sixty with seven grandchildren. Ah, the Outlaw charm knew no age barriers.

  “Uh, darlin’ I just accepted a job to feed forty hoity-toity women at a luncheon at the country club.”

  “What day?”

  I grinned to soften the blow. “Today. Noon.”

  Her gray brows rose and she chuckled. “Oh, we needed a challenge today?”

  It was my time to chuckle. “Send David down to the supermarket to buy all the asparagus they have. Oh, and I need a bartender. Boone can’t do it and I’m short one.”

  “You expect me to find you a knowledgeable bartender in seven hours.”

  “Actually, we have to be there by eleven, so you have six.”

  “Shoot, boy, ain’t you the generous one?”

  “Are you giving Jackie a hard time again, Brax?”

  “On the contrary, she’s always sassing me.” I turned at Verity’s voice hoping…and there he was in her arms. A cute little guy with laughing blue eyes the very same shade as mine. He giggled when he saw me and then I was pulling him out of her arms and throwing him up in the air to make him laugh more.

  “He expects me to perform miracles,” Jackie informed her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need to find a top-notch bartender today in, like, six hours.”

  She tilted her head. “Oh, really? How amazing. Ethan is on his way over here with a Marine buddy of his who arrived in Suttontowne last night. He bartended in New York City and he needs a job.”

  “Ha!” I said to Duel who laughed harder while I tickled him. “See, Jackie, miracles aren’t so difficult. Maybe the Good Lord was so shocked when I showed up last month at church, he’s still a little woozy and I slipped one by him,” I said deadpan. I tucked the baby in the crook of my arm. “What brings you two here so early?”

  Her eyes sparkling, she looked pointedly at Duel.

  “Uh, right. You have a baby.”

  “I need to get some work done on three outfits I’m going to need for Fashion Week in September. I have to ship them out next week. Can you watch him for a few hours?”

  I smiled down at Duel, who wrapped his little hand around my index finger. It melted my freaking heart every single time. I had a busy breakfast crowd to serve, my own lunch crowd, in addition to the Forty Lunching Ladies, had a menu to construct on the fly, a bartender to hire, and a dinner to deal with afterward. “Of course,” I said without hesitation.

  She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re nothing but a softie.”

  “Give me the Snugli and get outta here,” I growled. “I’ll drop him off on my way over to the country club.” Her green eyes softened even more. “Oh, Boone called me about that. And it looks like there wasn’t any bloodshed. Thank God. She’s been looking for you anyway, Brax.”

  “Bastards double-teamed me. I’m doing it,” I said through clenched teeth. “Why is she looking for me?”

  “I’ll leave that up to her,” Verity said cryptically. I turned my other cheek and she dutifully kissed it.

  “You are the best.”

  “Yeah, outta here.”

  I shrugged into the Snugli like a pro and settled Duel inside. When my head came up, Jackie was watching me with a soft look in her eyes. I shifted, cleared my throat and grumped, “We have work to do, lady. Let’s get to it.”

  Duel had fallen asleep by the time Boone’s brother-in-law Ethan F
airchild and a dark-haired guy with new ink showing on the exposed skin of his neck walked into the kitchen. Shorter than Ethan’s six-three, his Marine buddy was a compact guy in good shape with shaggy black hair and a lip piercing. He looked to be about twenty-five and wore jeans and a green T-shirt with Semper Fi on it.

  When Ethan saw Duel, his midnight blue eyes lit. He walked over and his large hand engulfed our nephew’s small head as he rubbed over it.

  “How do you rate?”

  “Verity knows I’ll always take him. Can’t seem to say no.”

  Ethan smiled and turned toward his friend. “This is Rory Finnegan. We served in the same unit in Afghanistan. This is Brax, my sister’s brother-in-law and this little guy is my nephew.”

  “Hey,” I said, extending my hand. “I hear from Verity you’re an experienced bartender.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “You’re hired.”

  “The piercing?”

  “It’s fine with me.”

  “When can I—”

  “Now. Start assembling what you need for a forty-lady lunch. I think I have two cases of hard lemonade in the back storeroom. Make sure we have enough—”

  “Bourbon and mint leaves.”

  “Exactly, they do love their mint juleps”

  Rory smiled. “Vodka for martinis.”

  “I’ll leave it in your hands, Rory. I need you to do inventory as well. I’ve been too busy to handle it.” I pulled the keys out of my pocket and threw them to him.

  He caught the ring deftly. “You got it, sir.”

  I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Uh, no. It’s Brax. But you can salute me.”

  Ethan chuckled when Rory looked at him. “He’s kidding.”

  Rory smiled, clicked his heels together and gave me a crisp salute, then headed out to the bar.

  “Okay, I like him.”

  “Why? Because he follows orders?”

  “Yup.”

  Ethan sobered. “I appreciate this Brax. He’s looking for a place to be. Going to open up a tattoo shop.”