The Perfect Match: A New Adult Erotic Romance (Inseparable Book 2)

The Perfect Match: A New Adult Erotic Romance

Bella Chal

Published by Pub Yourself Press, 2014.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE PERFECT MATCH: A NEW ADULT EROTIC ROMANCE

First edition. August 24, 2014.

Copyright © 2014 Bella Chal.

Written by Bella Chal.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter 1: Polly

Chapter 2: Kurt

Chapter 3: Polly

Chapter 4: Kurt

Chapter 5: Polly

Chapter 6: Kurt

Chapter 7: Polly

Chapter 8: Kurt

Chapter 9: Polly

Chapter 10: Kurt

Chapter 11: Polly

Chapter 12: Polly

Chapter 13: Kurt

Chapter 14: Polly

Chapter 15: Kurt

Chapter 16: Polly

Further Reading: Inseparable: A New Adult Erotic Romance

About the Publisher

 

Writing this story reminded me how much I loved growing up with my large family in Louisiana. Enjoying the music, food, and wonderful memories again have made it a little like coming home. I'd like to thank my own family for putting up with me throughout the process.

Chapter 1: Polly

P
olly Makutsi pulled up in the driveway at Jack and Julie’s house to find Jack loading a princess themed suitcase into the trunk of their minivan. He turned as she parked her little car next to their van and waved hello with a grin.

“Just in time,” Jack said as she got out of the car. “Julie still has breakfast on the table if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, I’m starved,” Polly said as she stood on her tiptoes to hug him. Jack Brousard was the large, handsome man who had married her best friend. And after being around him for the last year, he was her friend, too. “Is Jackson feeling better?”

“Yeah, it was just a twenty-four hour thing,” Jack said. “When the girls were a year old it seemed like they always came down with something. Let me get your bags before you go in so I can pack them.”

Polly pressed the button on her keychain to pop the trunk. “Thanks, I almost forgot. See you inside!”

She made her way through the garage and into the house, admiring the shelves that Jack put up in the garage as well as the cabinets he installed over the washer and dryer. Julie only had to mention something once and Jack was on it. He was always willing to do whatever it took to make her happy.
Lucky bitch
, she thought with a grin.

“Aunt Polly! Aunt Polly!” Lisa exclaimed as Polly stepped into the kitchen. The four year-old girl wasn’t really her niece, but the love she felt towards her couldn’t have been more if she was related by blood. Sweeping her into her arms, Polly felt wet kisses on her cheeks.

“Did you wipe your mouth?” she asked when Lisa pulled back with a grin.

“Uh oh,” she said and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “It was only orange juice.”

“That’s okay,” Polly said and kissed her back before setting her down. “Where’s your sister?”

“She had to potty.” Lisa followed Polly into the dining room. “Julie-Mom went to help because it was poop. And because we are going to see Meemee, she didn’t want Jen to have stink-butt.”

Her Meemee was Jack’s mother, Claire, whom Polly had met a few times over the year they’d been married. She was a wonderful woman who loved her eight children and numerous grandchildren more than anything else in the world.

Polly hid her amusement and sat down next to Jackson who was strapped in his high chair. “And how are you today?”

“Da!” Jackson shouted as he reached for her to pick him up.

“I don’t think you’re done eating,” Polly said as she moved around the Cheerios in the bowl on his tray with her finger. “Have some more and I’ll pick you up in a minute.”

“Hey, girl!” Julie called out as she came back into the dining room. Bending to hug her quickly, she said, “Thanks again for coming with us. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s gonna be fun,” Polly assured her. “Besides, with Mom and Dad in Botswana until next year who else am I gonna spend Thanksgiving with?”

“Lisa, if you’re done eating you can either read a book or help your Daddy,” Julie said, and Lisa was out through the door to the garage in a flash. Jackson banged his bowl on the tray launching Cheerios all over. “Keep eating, little man.”

“Aunt Polly!” Jen yelled as she ran into the dining room. Polly got on one knee to hug her tight. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us.”

“Me, too,” Polly said, amazed at how much the eight-year-old had grown. “Is that the outfit I got you?”

“Yes! I wanted to wear it to show Meemee.”

“I’m glad. I bet she likes it!”

“I figured you’d be hungry.” Julie brought Polly a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. “Jen, why don’t you go help your father pack the car?” Jen nodded happily and dashed off.

“Thanks,” Polly said before taking a bite. “So what’s Thanksgiving with the Brousard family like?”

“Oh my god, it was so much fun last year. They deep fry turkeys in Louisiana, with spices injected in the meat. Of course, feeding fifty people a turkey dinner means you can’t squeeze a dozen turkeys in the oven and wait for five hours. Most of his family is so nice, and oh, did I mention he’s got some nephews our age?”

“Oh really. Did I say I was looking to meet someone? I don’t remember saying that.”

“No pressure, but Jack’s got good genes. I have no idea if my favorite part of his anatomy is a family trait or not, but...” Julie let the sentence die as she stuck her pinky nail between her teeth and grinned.

“Oh my god, seriously.” Polly fanned herself. “Don’t tell me that! I have to spend the next five hours in a car with him.” After they stopped laughing, Polly said, “Tell me about his nephews, then.”

“Kurt is my favorite. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but cute and funny. Kurt’s mom, Noëlle, is Jack’s oldest sister. I like his nephew Trey more than Jack does, but his mother is Jack’s least favorite sister, Laurie, so that’s probably why. Actually Trey is just his nickname. His real name is Thomas Thibodeaux the Third, if you can believe it. His dad is rich and stuck up, apparently..”

“There’s only two?” Polly asked between bites as Julie took a sip of her coffee.

“Oh, no, he’s got a couple of dozen nephews and nieces. They range in age from newborn to mid-twenties. Michael is another one. Some of them are already married like Franklin and Scott.”

“Oh, stop, I can’t keep track of all the names,” Polly said as she finished her breakfast. “How did you learn them all?”

“We’ve spent most of our holidays in Morgan City this past year. They kind of grow on you over time, like a fungus,” she said with a grin. “I’m looking forward to spending Christmas here this year, though. Our first Christmas in our own house.”

“Did you ever imagine all this?” Polly asked, knowing how poor Julie had been growing up. Julie’s eyes got full as she looked around her house.

“Sometimes I still wake up terrified we’ll lose it all, but then Jack puts his arms around me and holds me until I’m not afraid anymore.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Polly said and squeezed her best friend’s hand.

“You’re a big part of the reason I’m here. If you hadn’t kicked my ass and made me try harder with Jack I wouldn’t have made it.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Polly said with a laugh. “Let’s get cleaned up so I can eat that turkey and meet some nephews.”

Chapter 2: Kurt

K
urt Guidry strummed a fast rhythm on his acoustic guitar while Pawpaw Garson sang the Cajun standard
J’ai Été Au Bal
to the crowd. The Brousard family danced around the old flatbed trailer that served as an outdoor stage for the band. Halfway between the house and the barn, the grass-covered yard leveled out to make it a perfect place to dance. Kurt found it impossible not to move his hips while strumming the chords to the familiar song, so he let out a joyous cry and danced along with the crowd beneath him.

From the where he stood, Kurt could see the whole yard at once. A line of people were laughing and talking to each other, holding red plastic cups while they waited their turn to fill them up at the three beer kegs over by the back door of the house. A small group of dedicated cooks were deep frying the twelve Cajun spiced turkeys for their Thanksgiving dinner. He’d helped set up the long folding tables and chairs for everyone to eat near the house. Kids and young adults ran in the open areas playing tag or kicking soccer balls. Kurt grinned as the remembered doing the same thing just a few years earlier.

Papa Garson wrapped up the song to the applause of the dancers, then launched into
Jolie Blon
and set the crowd to reeling again. There had to be fifty people in the yard already, but he could see another minivan pulling into the impromptu parking lot near the graveled road.

His Uncle Jack got out of the driver’s seat and stretched his back out. Kurt smiled as Jack’s pretty young wife, Julie, got out of the passenger seat to slide the side door open. They had been married a year already, Kurt realized, as Julie got their baby boy, Jackson, from his car seat. Then she moved quickly to head off Jack’s two little girls from jumping out of the van and running straight out into the crowded yard.

Kurt was surprised to see one more person climbing out of the back seat of their minivan. She was tall, with a nice figure and a cinnamon complexion that put a smile on his face. Even at a distance he could tell she was pretty, with a bright smile for the two little girls that pulled her toward the party.

By the time the band took a break, Kurt had watched the cinnamon girl going around with Jack and Julie to greet various relatives. He noticed Julie was introducing her friend to the unattached male cousins around his age, like Michael, Trey, and Landon. After he put his guitar on its stand, he slipped down off the flat bed of the truck intending to be introduced as well.

“Kurt!” He heard a familiar voice before he could go three steps. Turning to see his sister Charlotte crossing towards him from the tables, she asked, “Can you help me bring out the food? I keep grabbin’ kids, but they run off every time I turn my back.”

“Sure,” he sighed with a frown.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, giving him a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing, just saw someone I wanted to meet.”

“Calm down, tiger, you’re probably related to her,” she said, guessing his intentions with a laugh.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said as he spotted Trey talking to her near the beer kegs.

Charlotte saw where he was looking and said, “Pretty girl. Who’d she come with?”

“Uncle Jack. I think she’s Aunt Julie’s friend.”

“It’s so weird calling someone our age Aunt,” she said. “The turkeys are all done and getting carved into the serving platters now. Meemee wants everything ready by three. Let’s hurry it up!”

* * *

K
urt had better luck threatening their teenaged cousins into helping than his sister had, so they managed to meet their grandmother’s deadline. By the time he’d washed up and gotten a beer for himself, the tables had filled up but Charlotte saved him a seat next to her.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he sat down from across his cousin Trey. The cinnamon girl was opposite Charlotte and was engrossed in a story Trey was telling. Uncle Jack and Aunt Julie were next to her, but were focused on getting their kids to eat.

Charlotte whispered, “Her name is Polly and she’s Aunt Julie’s best friend.”

Kurt nodded to his sister. As soon as there was a lull in the conversation, Kurt got Polly's attention.

“Hi, you’re Polly, right? I’m Jack’s nephew, Kurt.”

“Hi,” she said with a distracted tone, barely looking up at him.

He realized how he must look to her with his dirty jeans, sweat-soaked t-shirt, and unshaven face. Giving Trey an irritated look, he noticed how fresh he looked in his khaki pants and polo shirt. “Of course,” he muttered, knowing that no one in Aunt Laurie’s family ever came early to help set up.

Despite working as hard as he had, his sister Charlotte hadn’t gotten
her
clothes dirty or sweaty. Most girls seemed to have the knack of staying clean somehow. Shaking his head, he took a drink of his beer and picked up his fork to eat the crispy turkey, cranberry sauce, and the spicy red beans and rice.

“Oh my God, this is so good,” Polly said as she ate. “I’ve never had turkey cooked this way. It’s amazing!”

Charlotte smiled across from Polly and said, “It’s the spices they inject in the meat before they fry it in peanut oil. I
love
Meemee’s turkey.”

“Meemee?” Polly asked her.

Trey leaned close like he was telling Polly a secret. “It’s Cajun for grandma.”

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