“You won’t last a week in this town. And you don’t look right with him. You’re too short for him. He likes tall women,” Josette replied.

“She makes up for her lack of height with her vivacious and constantly surprising behavior.” Remy started to tug her away, but a crowd had formed. It looked like every single eye in the place was on the new girl vs the ex-wife.

It was time to make a ladylike retreat. She wasn’t tipsy. She was drunk and the last few days had been hard on her. This was not the way to take out her stress. She needed sleep and then she could face the fact that the whole town now thought she was about to become a Guidry.

Except wasn’t that what they’d been saying all night long? God, they’d already thought she and Remy were together. Why else would her brother have written that check? That had to be it. And suddenly she didn’t want these nice people with their yummy food and twinkle lights and complex French names to think she was nothing more than a client.

He looked down at her and his smile was gone. “It’ll be okay. I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“Everyone in this town knows you’re marrying that uptight city bitch for her money. What does that make you, Remy? Huh? How do you feel having to whore your body out for that damn wharf?”

And that was when the Solo cup got pitched to the ground and the world went a nice shade of red.

As red as the cup.

As red as her ass was going to be.

Lisa didn’t care as she proceeded to show the entire town of Papillon how a Texas woman defended her man.

Chapter Ten

Remy took the mug of coffee from his cousin’s hand, the smell of that dark chicory waking him up in a way no plain roast ever would. “Thank you. I need this. That was a long night.”

Jean-Claude had his own. “So I heard. Did your new girl really pull out Josette’s hair extensions in the middle of the square?”

Remy groaned. He should have known there had been no way that story didn’t make the rounds. He wasn’t surprised Jean-Claude had already heard it even though he hadn’t been at the party the night before. Of course, neither had his other guest this morning.

“I heard she told the sheriff she was keeping the longest piece as a war trophy.” His brother, Zep, had been sitting in the bar when he’d walked out. He and Jean-Claude already had the coffeemaker working, a big old box of donuts on the bar.