Harmony for Christmas (Dansboro Crossing #4)

Chapter 13

thirteen

BEAU

“Merry Christmas!” jerks me out of the best dream involving Harmony. I try to ignore the outburst and settle back into my fantasy. Except something in my brain tells me that wasn’t either of us, and as far as I know, Reacher hasn’t learned to converse in English. Yet.

“Wow, it looks like there was a hell of a frat party in here last night.” That isn’t one of us either. I pry one eye open to search the living room. There’s a bigger, younger version of myself standing over me. “Why is there an eight of hearts stuck to your brother’s forehead?” Fucking playing cards. I slap the one on my forehead away.

“Smells kind of like a frat party too,” Travis says.

“Y’all shut up before you wake her,” I growl, climbing from the makeshift bed.

“Speaking of…?”

I scowl at my little brother as I head for the bathroom. Closing the door, I look at myself in the mirror. My face sports the start of a mountain man beard and mustache. It’s gone from a shadow to something more in the last few days. It’ll have to wait until there’s hot water again. The idea of cold-water shaving makes me shudder.

My hair looks about as bad. Fortunately, I keep it short, so it just sticks up in strange directions. I turn the water on and try my best to convince it to lie down. A quick body wash, fresh deodorant, and I return to the living room. Harmony is still sound asleep. My brother and his boyfriend are at the kitchen table sipping coffee when I find them.

“How long has the electricity been out?” Travis asks.

“Day before yesterday?” Honestly, I can’t remember. My mind is still muddled from lack of sleep. “How are y’all here anyway?”

“Trace has a buddy who owns a business that deals in armored cars and stuff. He lent us a tank.”

“A tank?” This I have to see. Walking back in the living room, I sweep the edge of the curtain back. Sitting in front of the house is something that does look like a tank. At the very least, something the military would use. Huh. That would be a good thing to have, but based on the emblem on the front, it was out of my price range.

“So, I guess you and Harmony are getting along?” Travis asks when I return to the kitchen. I shrug. “She’s a really nice person, you know.” My gaze meets his. “Sorry, she got stranded with you. If I’d known, well?—”

“Well what?” I challenge. Was my little brother trying to warn me off. It’s too late if he is, but I’m not going to tell him that. As a matter of fact, it’s none of his business what goes on between us.

“Nothing,” he mumbles.

“The electricity went out,” I bark. “It’s freezing in the bedrooms, so the pull-out couch was the next best thing. What did you want me to do, huh, Travis? What are you trying to say?” I glare at him.

“I don’t think he’s saying anything, it’s just—” Trace started.

“Hi,” Harmony says from the doorway. She’s wrapped one of the blankets around her. “Merry Christmas,” she adds.

We all turn to look at her. Travis jumps up to pull her into a hug. She laughs before pushing him back.

“I must smell awful. We’ve been without hot water for ages. Let me go see what I can do in the bathroom. Oh, I let Reacher out,” she says to me as she walks to the bathroom.

“She’s even more gorgeous in person,” Trace points out.

“Right?” Travis agrees. He tilts his head at me when a growl slips up from my chest.

“Did you have breakfast?” I ask. I stand and move to the pantry trying to divert my attention away from my brother and his boyfriend’s conjecture of what Harmony and I have been up to.

They could also take a break from pointing out how beautiful she is. Not that I’m territorial or anything. Yeah, I know. If I can’t handle that, how would I ever handle the crowds who all want a piece of her on tour?

“Oh, we brought so much food,” Trace announces, jumping up. “It’s all in these amazing coolers in the back of the truck. We weren’t sure how much food you’d have, so we brought Christmas dinner. Come help me bring it in, Trav.” He takes Travis’s hand and pulls him up from the chair. “We even brought breakfast.”

“Where did they go?” Harmony asks, stepping back into the kitchen. I hand her a cup of coffee fixed just the way she likes it—very little coffee, a lot of cream and sugar.

“I think they brought half of Austin with them.” Taking her free hand, I lead her to the living room window. Outside, Travis and Trace are loading their arms with containers of food. Harmony rushes over to open the door when they head in with their first load.

“There’s more,” Travis announces happily. We watch as they return outside for another load.

If I was nice, I’d help. I’m not that nice. I also believe that by the time I got my boots on, they’d have it unloaded. Besides, I’ll have to go outside this evening to feed the horses. One trip into the arctic weather seems like enough.

“Presents!” Travis says, walking back inside. He stops at the tree and unloads his arms. “Hey, nice tree. It’s been ages since you’ve had one of these.” He steps back and appraises it. “This was your doing, wasn’t it?” He turns to look at Harmony.

“Beau helped,” she answers. His eyebrows raise high enough to hit the ceiling.

“What?” I snarl.

“Please tell me you made him cut out the snowflakes.”

“He did! The good ones are his. He also helped with the garland. And he chopped it down.” She beams over at me making my heart miss a beat. “We even rode to the neighbors to borrow lights. I wish you could see them, they’re so pretty.”

Travis looks over at me with his mouth opened dramatically in shock. I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t feel so bad having her brag on me.

None of it really took much effort. It was all worth it though seeing how happy it makes her. It makes me wish I had made more effort for my brother over the last couple of years. Even grown, he deserves more from me.

“Well, I think you both did an outstanding job,” Trace adds from the kitchen doorway.

“Thank you, Trace. At least someone is appreciative,” I say.

“I’m appreciative,” Travis argues. “Just totally shocked is all.”

“Speaking of shocked,” Trace continues. “Is the ham in the fridge for dinner? We brought a turkey, sides and dessert.”

“Yeah, I bought a smoked one before the snowstorm since y’all were coming this year.”

“Mind if I start working on it?”

“Knock yourself out.” Did I mention my brother had the good sense to date a chef from one of Austin’s most popular restaurants. The man can cook rings around anyone I’ve ever met. He’ll take that ham and turn it into something worthy of a Michelin star.

“Can I help?” Harmony asks.

“Absolutely, and I’ll bring a lovely piece of German stollen out to the both of you in a moment. Come, love.” I watch as they disappear into the kitchen. Travis moves to the couch and begins folding it up. Reacher wanders in while we wrestle with sliding the cushions back into place. We’re presented with breakfast and top offs of our coffee as soon as we sit down.

“How are you doing?” Travis asks the minute they return to the kitchen. “Like, really?” He turns toward me pulling his leg onto his opposite knee.

“Travis,” I warn.

“I know, I know. Don’t ask too many questions about Beau’s private life. Don’t act like I worry about him way out here. Don’t question his life choices. What am I missing?” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know what sucks about that? I have to be an open book. You’re the only one that gets to hide away.”

“I don’t hide away.”

“Really? Then what’s happening between you and Harmony because something is.”

Damn my little brother and his astute powers of observation.

“It’s none of your business. Just like you and Trace are none of mine. It doesn’t matter anyway, she’s leaving. We’d never work out. End of story.”

“Fine,” he pouts. “Just eat your weird glazed fruit bread I had to help make, and we’ll sit here in silence. Like normal.”

I take a slow drawn-out bite of stollen while glaring at Travis. He tries to stay irritated with me, but it never lasts long. It’s part of why he’s the only brother I’ve ever wanted. Because, inside, he really is the best man I know. It scares me to think he can’t say the same about me.

“So, what did you get me for Christmas?” His 100-watt smile lights up his face.

“You’re as bad as Harmony. She spent all day before Christmas Eve harassing me about her presents.”

“How did you manage to buy her a present? Trace and I brought her several, but we could still get to the shops.”

“Who says I bought them?”

“Did you draw her something?” He’s way too excited about this. “She’s going to be so stoked. She’s getting a M. Rayburn original.” I roll my eyes at him. It seems I’m doing that a lot today.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say.

“It is a big deal,” he answers. “Dude, the gallery said people are starting to ask for them. They keep raising the prices.”

I shrug. I know my royalty checks keep getting larger, but I hadn’t questioned why. I should be cutting Travis in. He was the one who made the arrangements with the gallery.

I never intended to sell any of my sketches. I never thought they were good enough. I guess that’s something Harmony and I have in common. We both have Travis to thank for our rising fame.

“Do you know that Trace and I have already met?” Harmony announces, bursting back into the room. Trace follows on her heels carrying a fancy looking coffee pot. “It’s true.” She plops down on the couch against me. Travis’s stupid eyebrows hit the roof again.

“I didn’t realize he is the chef at Jon Caprese’s Steakhouse in Austin. I ate there not long ago. So good,” she says, looking at Trace who’s now beaming at her from the lounge chair. “You came out and asked if I liked the steak.”

“And you said it was one of the best you’d ever had,” Trace says. “You even said we were one of your go-tos on that morning show interview.”

“I wasn’t lying. Beau,” she says, grabbing my hand, “you have to try the filet mignon. To. Die. For.”

“I have,” I answer. “It is.”

“I can’t believe I’m eating Christmas dinner designed by Chef Trace.” He blushes over her gushing. I wasn’t lying, the man can fucking cook. “So, tell me everything about you two. How did you meet?” It’s Travis who blushes this time.

“I had a class on tort law. We had to pick an industry that sees a lot of cases, so I chose the restaurant industry. I have a friend who knows the manager at Jon’s. The day I had scheduled to interview him, he came down with a nasty run of flu. Trace offered to step in. A quick meeting turned into hours, which turned into dinner, and the rest is history as they say.”

“I walked out of the kitchen, took one look at this guy, and was smitten,” Trace says, reaching for my brother’s hand. They grin at each other for a minute.

“Awww,” Harmony coos. “Such a great meet cute.”

“What’s a meet cute?” I ask. It’s like she talks in code half the time.

“It’s a cute story of how someone meets. Ours would be snowed in, forced proximity,” she answers. I swear to God, if Travis doesn’t learn to control his damn eyebrows, I’m going to shave them off. “Well, forced isn’t the right word.”

“I’d call it a little brother’s best friend, close proximity,” Trace says.

“Yeah, that sounds better,” she agrees.

“Hold on, I think this is more just one friend taking care of another,” I argue. My definition sucks. Not winning any awards for my storyline.

“Ooh, friends-to-lovers,” Trace points out.

“Strangers-to-lovers?” Travis tries out. “But I think best friend’s older brother is better.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to end this conversation. Jesus, people are exhausting.