Chapter 9
nine
BEAU
I knew this was a bad idea when she suggested it. Not that I don’t want to know everything about her because I do. Every single detail. My life, however, is boring. She’s never going to look back once she gets to know me. I have nothing to hide, except maybe monotony.
Harmony wins the next hand. Even without seeing the cards, I would know based on the wiggly happy dance she does.
“Okay, let me see.” She’s adorable. I scowl at her anyway. “Who was your first?” I grimace, this is a horrible story. More embarrassing than anything.
“It’s even more cliché than yours. I was nineteen. Travis was at a sleepover. I went to the bar out on the highway, got drunk, and wound up in a hotel room with someone I think was just going through. I remember her name was Janet.”
“That’s horrible,” she says. Her big blue eyes gaze at me without judgment. That’s at least something. I’m judging me. Who does that? “I figured you had all the girls in high school you could wish for.”
“I was too busy studying, playing sports, and working here to have time to date. I was totally focused on getting into college.”
“I understand that. I’ve been so focused on my singing career that it doesn’t leave much time for anyone else. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a date, much less been in a relationship with anyone.
People think I have my pick of the gorgeous men in Nashville. Except, I’m always surrounded by people needing something. My agent, my assistant, my label, even my parents are always wanting something.”
I feel the scowl return to my face. I wish she would elaborate on what her parents always want from her, but I don’t feel like it’s my place to ask. I never knew them, but I saw them occasionally on the television next to her. I know they hightailed it out of Dansboro Crossing for greener pastures the moment their daughter got her first contract.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the cruise they’re on was funded by Harmony. Her generosity is apparent in everything she does. Instead of asking though, I wait for her to deal the cards.
“What is your favorite song you wrote?” I ask when I win. I decided to take this game down a notch. There’s no way I want to upset her.
“I think it’s the one I’m working on right now,” she answers. “Did I tell you it started forming last night? I even have a few words.” She hums a few bars. “Uhh, I can’t wait until it’s out of my head and on paper.”
“You’ll get it,” I assure her. She will too. I have no doubt.
“Can I ask you something? I know I’ve only won one game, but it’s something I’ve been wondering about since I’ve been here.” Her face becomes sober as she waits for an answer.
“Okay,” I say warily. It could be anything.
“I heard you got all these scholarships to go to college. They said you had early admittance to Yale. Why didn’t you go?”
I consider her question for several minutes. There are a number of reasons I stayed here. I’ve never discussed them with anyone before. Not even the counselor I hired for Travis after our parents’ death. I don’t think anyone’s ever thought to ask anyway.
“Because this was Travis’s home,” I begin. “He deserved to stay here. I didn’t want to drag him away from the only thing he knew.”
“Have you ever regretted it?”
“No.” I don’t have to think about it. “Harmony, look at me.” I wait until her gaze meets mine. “No, I’ve never regretted even a moment of my decision. He got to stay in his school with friends who accepted him for who he is. I’ll never regret giving that to him. And I like it here.” I look around the house as if it will agree with me.
“But—”
“No but, Harmony,” I snap. “I don’t need my decisions second-guessed.” It comes out harsher than I intended. She grows quiet as I gather up the cards and toss them on the coffee table. “I think I’m going to turn in. I need to check water tomorrow.”
I toss another couple of logs on the fire and climb on the bed. Harmony settles on the farthest edge from me facing away. I really should apologize.
Suddenly, she’s pushed against my back. She begins to giggle. I sit up and look at what she’s so tickled about. Reacher covers most of her half of the bed forcing her onto mine. “Sorry,” she says.
“Reacher!” I growl. He ignores me. I scowl at her, but she starts laughing again. With a sigh, I lay back down. “I guess we’ll stay warm.”
“Beau? I’m sorry.” I know she’s not talking about the dog this time. I roll over until I’m facing her.
“My fault. I don’t know why I get so angry when anything about that is brought up.”
“I think because it’s so hard to understand how something so bad could happen.” She cups my cheek in her hand. “I’m so sorry you lost them. That you had to make those decisions so young. I hope Travis knows what you gave up for him.” Her lips press against mine, and the knot in my chest loosens a little.
She grips the front of my shirt and rolls me onto her as our kiss deepens. Jesus, I’m desperate to make love to this woman. To slip into her warmth and claim her. To never let her go. I stop, though, because it’s only going to make her leaving harder. And I don’t want either of us hurt.
“Harmony,” I whisper. I don’t know if I’m begging or warning.
“I know,” she says. I roll off her and face away once again. She presses her body against mine. It’ll have to do for now.
HARMONY
Bright light spears through my eyelids. Slowly I open them to find the sun streaming through the windows not blocked by the tree. It’s the first bright and sunny day I’ve seen since I came here.
I clamp my eyes closed again refusing to leave the warm nest I’m curled up in. Where am I? I open one eye and look around. Beau is sitting in the chair with a large sketch pad on his lap.
“Good morning,” I rasp.
“Mmm,” he grunts, bent over his pencil. Reacher walks over and licks my face. At least someone’s happy to see me this morning.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Working on something.” Thank you, Captain Obvious.
“Anything interesting?” He shrugs. So much for witty morning reparte.
“Do we have electricity yet?” I try again.
“No.”
“How about is the bathroom still working?” He puts his pencil down and looks at me. His scowl smooths into a smile. That’s better.
“The water hasn’t frozen, but there’s no hot water left.”
“No using a bucket at least.”
“Not yet.”
The mere image of me squatting over a bucket makes me shudder. I throw the covers back and climb off the bed. Somehow, I managed to pull my fuzzy socks off in the middle of the night. He holds them out to me. I slide them on before standing.
It’s not as cold in the room as I thought it would be. The fire crackles as I stretch my limbs. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept on a pull-out couch. They never get any more comfortable.
The bathroom isn’t horrible. The little space heater is working its guts out trying to keep the pipes from freezing. It does nothing, however, to warm the toilet seat. Would have been nice if he’d warned me about that. Then again, he’s a man. He probably just peed out the front door. I wonder if it freezes?
Lord, I might have to read a book today. My intelligent thoughts seem to be leaving me in droves. I finish and hurry back to the living room.
“Hold on,” I say, coming to a stop halfway through the room. “When did the presents show up?” There are a handful of packages sitting under the tree. I think I’d remember if they were there last night. Although I was pretty focused on how sexy his bare feet are. I could have missed them.
“How long have you been awake?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“Were you watching me sleep the whole time?” Another shrug. “Creeper.”
“Hey, you’re in my house. Fair game.” It’s my turn to shrug. I guess he makes a good point there.
“Where did these come from?” I move closer to the tree. There are a couple labeled with Travis and still more with Trace and Reacher. Trace is Travis’s boyfriend. Based on the fact Beau bought him Christmas presents, they must be serious.
Looking closer, I find a couple with my name on them. Shit! Why didn’t I think about grabbing a few gifts on the way here. Because I thought I’d have time to do some shopping later is why.
“How?” I begin spinning around to ask how he managed to buy me something. Instead of answering, he thrust a large mug of hot chocolate into my hand. He’s even put whipped cream on top and peppermint in it. Once I’ve taken it, he returns to the kitchen. A few minutes later he returns with leftover coffee cake.
“How what?” he asks, settling back in the chair.
“How did you go shopping?” I sit back on the opened bed again. Reacher sits next to me hoping for a piece of cake. I break off a small bite for him. Beau huffs but says nothing. I think he’s given up when it comes to me and his dog.
“Who says I went shopping?” he answers.
“I guess no one?” He smiles as he cuts a piece of cake with his fork. His eyes twinkle with mischief. Hmm, that starts my wheels turning. “Are you going to give me a hint?”
“About what?”
“The presents, what else?” I say in exasperation.
“Nope.”
“Uhhh, you’re so obnoxious.” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “It won’t kill you to give me one hint.” Now his face relaxes back to amusement. When did I get to read Beau Rayburn’s expressions so well? “Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
“Well, I’m not wrapping up an animal for twenty-four hours before it’s opened.”
“Twenty-four hours!” I shout a little too loudly. Reacher picks his head up to stare at me from the end of the bed. “We could open them now. No one’s going to know we didn’t wait until officially Christmas Day. It’ll be our little secret.” Beau continues to eat without saying a word.
“At least let me shake them,” I beg. “I bet I can guess based on one shake. I’ve done it before. I used to shake the crap out of our presents as a kid.”
Chewing slowly, his gaze flicks up to mine then back down to the cake. I have the sudden urge to slap that plate out of his hands.
“My sister used to unwrap hers early to see what they were,” I continue. “She’d rewrap them so Mom never knew. She hates surprises. I bet your family didn’t even open them on Christmas. I bet you waited until after.”
“We’re not barbarians,” he says. I blow out a breath. My cake remains hardly touched as I change tactics.
“You know,” I say, pushing up on my knees to face him. “I could let you unwrap an early present too.” I’m doing my best to be sexy.
“You’re trading sex for a shake of a present?”
“Okay, fine. No.” I slump back down on the couch. Picking up my food, I take angry bites of it.
Does he not understand how much I love Christmas? We always got to pick out one present to unwrap on Christmas Eve. It made the torture worth waiting to unwrap the rest the next day. Parents can be so cruel. So can sexy, single men apparently.
“Is this you throwing a tantrum?”
“Maybe,” I answer.
“How about this,” he says. “How about I keep you occupied all day so you don’t think about those presents?”
“Sounds like a reasonable plan. How?”
“I have to check water today. You can go with me. We’ll take the tractor, so you’ll have to sit on my lap, but you’ll be warm. It’s bright and sunny today. We might can build a snowman if you’re good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, standing. Bending over, he boops my nose. “But you have to be good.” Sweeping up the plates and mugs, he walks into the kitchen. I have to be good, huh. Just how good do I have to be? I think I’m starting to prefer naughty.