She’d mixed up her oils, using Mr. Lamoreaux’s sandlewood and juniper on Mrs. Breaux, who preferred the relaxing scent of lavender. Rather than appearing unhappy, the elderly lady assured Emma that it was occasionally a good idea to get out of a rut. While Etienne Lamoreaux, who wore a gold hoop in his ear and rode an old chopper Harley, seemed to take smelling like a little old lady’s sachet in stride. All day long she jumped every time the phone rang. By closing time, she’d been forced to wonder if she wasn’t putting too much importance on what had probably been to him nothing more than a convenient, one-night stand. Especially since that polite, green as spring grass deputy had informed her that he had instructions to follow her back from the camp to her house, which meant Gabriel had been aware of her sneaking away. How difficult would it have been to keep her there, if he’d wanted her to stay? He wouldn’t even have to use force.
