Gotta Be Bayou (Badges of the Bayou #1) Read Online Erin Nicholas

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Badges of the Bayou Series by Erin Nicholas

Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)

How do you get over a woman you never should have been, ahem,under in the first place?

Just when FBI special agent Spencer Landry had decided to forget about investigative journalist Maxine–Max–Keller and their one hot night together, there’s a threat made against her and Spencer’s protective instincts get all riled up. Again.
So now they’re shacking up on the Louisiana bayou and pretending to be in love so he can keep Max safe until the guy is apprehended.
Considering their chemistry and that he can not stop thinking about the gorgeous-and-doesn’t-know-it, smart-mouthed, bold-and-yet-vulnerable redhead, this could be a fun few days, right?
Nope. She’s all wrong for him.
And she hasn’t forgotten he can be kind of a jerk.
Sure, the naked-times are great, but he told her exactly what he wants— a bubbly, sweet school teacher who bakes him brownies and loves to cuddle—and Max ain’t it.
Max not only doesn’t bake, no one has ever called her sweet. And cuddling? Shudder.
Plus his bossiness is super annoying for someone who’s been taking care of herself all her life. But now they’re stuck together and dammit, besides being hot and very good with his mouth, Spencer is pretty irresistible with baby goats, little kids, and attempts at baking. And don’t forget alpha-protective. All of which makes her stomach feel very swoop-y. No wonder her clothes keep falling off.
But this is a temporary situation and they’re only faking it. So falling for the guy is a terrible idea.

She really should have kept that in mind.



“FBI! Open the door!”

There was no answer. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He tried again, pounding louder. “FBI! Open up, or we’re coming in!”

She has to be here. Her car’s here. Her phone is here. No friends have seen her or spoken to her since early yesterday. She wasn’t at work.

He looked at Lance. The detective nodded. They had to go in.

Spencer took a big step back. Lance took his place. Spencer lifted his foot and kicked the door open. Lance went through first, his gun drawn. He went left, and Spencer went right. Spencer’s partner, Chris, and Lance’s partner, Moreno, were right behind them.

And… nothing.

There was no one in the living room. Or the kitchen, which they could see across the island that separated the room from the main living space.

Well… hell.

Spencer started down the hallway toward the bedroom as Lance went for the balcony. Chris and Moreno headed for the other bedrooms.

“Clear!” Lance shouted from the balcony.

“Clear,” Chris confirmed from the master bedroom.

“Clear,” Moreno called from the guest room.

But Spencer had stopped outside the closed bathroom door. The shower was running. And a woman was singing along with music playing from, he’d guess, her phone.

Well… fuck.

He couldn’t believe the relief that seeped through him. He braced a hand on the doorframe as his knees got weak.

“Okay?” Moreno asked.

“She’s inside,” Spencer said.

Moreno cocked his head toward the doorway. “Sounds okay.”

“Kitchen is clear too,” Lance said, holstering his weapon as he joined them in the hallway.

Spencer nodded and swallowed. Jesus. The adrenaline was still coursing, and he was having trouble getting his shit together.

“Damn, you okay, man?” Moreno clapped him on the shoulder. “You need me to go in?”

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” Spencer straightened and shoved the other man back.

“What the fu—” Chris came down the hall and stopped when he found the other three men gathered outside the bathroom. “What’s goin’ on?”

“We found her,” Lance said with a grin, pointing at the door.

“She okay?” Chris asked.

“Not sure,” Moreno said. “Haven't asked her yet. She's singing along to that new Hayden Ross song. She's pretty good. We probably shouldn't interrupt.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Chris strode forward, and Spencer knew he was going to pound on the door if Spencer didn't move his ass.

Spencer put up a hand. “I've got this.”

“We need to find out if she's all right. She’s just taking a fucking shower? Not answering her phone or reporting in? You don’t know what’s going on in there. Does she even know what happened?”

Spencer was going to guess no. But he'd find out. Without these guys around.

“Just give me some space.”

The three other men moved back, but not nearly far enough for Spencer's preference. He lifted a hand and knocked on the door.

He heard a scream on either side.

“Max, it's me!” Okay, she probably didn’t know his voice that well. “Spencer. Landry.” He felt like a dumbass.

“Spencer? Holy shit! What the fuck!”

He heard the sound of something that he hoped was only a shampoo bottle hitting the shower floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“We need to talk.”

“Did you break into my apartment?” she shouted.

“No! I…” Well, fuck. Yes, he had. “We have to talk!”

“That's what phones are for!”

“You're not answering your phone.”

“So leave a message, and I’ll call you back!”

He sighed and glanced at his three co-workers. They were all watching, with intrigued and amused expressions. He did not need this. He’d lost at least two years of his life this morning, worrying if Max was all right and where she was. And now she was going to give him a hard time. Of course she was.