Cajun Vacation Read Online Free

minutes, if the producers were ambitious about exploiting the situation. Then nothing ever happened for the better, except that his wallet bulged a little bigger.
    His last group, three women, came from NHK in Japan. Out of all the time he spent with them, he expected one of them to end the sexual drought he’d been through since filing for divorce. Nothing ever happened. But when he realized that they only wanted to do a story about the bayou damage to rally more Japanese people into opposing nuclear power in Japan, he wouldn’t have cared if the gators had gotten any of them. He didn’t understand how they figured to link environmental oil spill damage with nuclear power, but they paid well so he didn’t ask.
    It had been over a year since he’d been with a woman and his body lit on fire with need that he’d ignored too long. When he caught his ex in bed with his partner, a man whose integrity he’d never questioned, who’d been his friend for years, and who stood at his wedding, he felt the certainties in his life crumble.
    Now he doubted if he ever really loved her. Certainly he’d lusted after her for a time. The passion of their courtship seemed intense, but now he saw it for the mere hollow physical coupling that it was. Then he compounded his own foolishness when he escalated lust into marriage. Now her attorney was making him pay the price.
    He sighed and steered around a cluster of fallen trees. His phone beeped with a new voicemail and he pulled his cell from his pocket to check the number. The reporter called. She could wait; he was only a minute away.
    He slowed the boat as he approached the dock. Rocks, trees and sometimes gators lurked under the water this close to shore, and he didn’t want to hit any of them. He shook his head as he saw the Nissan Infiniti parked in the lot. Besides not really caring about the environment, reporters also professed indignation about the fate of the American worker only to turn around after their broadcasts to drive a foreign luxury car. The hypocrisy of the media continually amazed him.
    He scanned the shore for any sign of the reporter, but she wasn’t there. His frown came back. Most reporters didn’t like to get dirty, so wandering off alone into the foliage wasn’t something he expected from any of them. He hoped she had just reclined back in her car seat and he couldn’t see her. He wouldn’t be happy if she had gotten lost and he needed to go looking for her.
    The boat glided gently next to the dock. The engine revved so slowly that the noise was virtually unnoticeable. When the boat thumped to a stop against the wood, he quickly tied up to a post and jumped off onto the dock. He brushed himself off and headed over to the car.
    Empty. His frown morphed into a scowl and looked down the trail. City people usually had a misplaced sense of their ability to navigate the outdoors. They assumed that simply because someone had cut a trail, built a bench, or done some other minimal development, that nature had been tamed and they were as safe as they were in their city. She probably thought she could just poke around and find much of what she came down for on her own.
    He spat, wiped his mouth, and headed down the trail for his missing reporter. The scream sent him into a sprint. No frozen indecision. No wondering what to do. Adrenalin flowed into him on pure instinct. However foolish this New Yorker was, she needed help, and he never left a woman in trouble.
    He caught sight of her up ahead, just before she turned behind a tree. His nerves lit up on seeing her, even for a moment, and then faded. He ignored the feeling and kept moving. She was running, but he couldn’t see why. In front of him, by the water, a raccoon scurried across the path. He and the animal ignored each other as he raced by to catch the woman. She had climbed halfway up a tree by the time he rounded the corner of the trail. His mouth ticked up when he watched her hips sway as she unsuccessfully