Chapter 14
fourteen
HARMONY
Is it wrong to gang up with your friend and his boyfriend to pick on his brother? Beau has a tell when something is stressing him out. One eye squints. It’s adorable. The more we talk about romantic tropes, the more squinty he’s getting. Travis winks at me. He knows that tell also I assume.
“Oh, there’s always the daddy/daughter one,” Travis says.
“That’s it,” Beau announces as he pushes off the couch. “I’m going out to move more firewood. Reacher!” The dog reluctantly gets off his pillow to follow. Somehow, we all manage to keep it in until we hear the mudroom door slam, then we burst out laughing.
“I always knew you were the best,” Travis says through his laughter. “I’ve got to be honest. I wouldn’t mind having you as a sister-in-law.” Well, that sobers me up in a hurry. Sister-in-law?
“Travis, you didn’t strand me here on purpose did you, like some twisted Beauty and the Beast thing?”
“No,” he says, placing his palm over his heart. “I promise that was not my intention. But I have to admit it was a good happenstance.”
“I agree,” chimes in Trace. “I haven’t seen Beau this festive ever. He’s even more relaxed than normal.”
“If this is relaxed, I’d hate to see him uptight.” Although, I’m pretty sure that was the Beau I found at the stove the first morning I was here. I have to agree, he’s much better now.
“Seriously though, of everyone I know, you’re the only one who’s managed to make him chill a little.” Travis shakes his head. “After Mom and Dad died, he took on so much. Way more than any teenager should. I think he got so used to always having to be ahead of the game, he just stopped living for himself.”
“That had to be so hard on both of you,” Trace says, taking his hand again.
“It was. Except I had Beau to fall on. Who did he have? Not eight-year-old me, that’s for sure.” We sit in silence as the question echoes around the room.
I wish I had been Beau’s age when it happened. Maybe I could have been the person he turned to when he was hurting. But I was way too young to know anything much about grief that profound.
“Well, anyway, let’s not let it mess up Christmas,” Travis says. “What are the plans for the day?”
“Dinner should be ready between one and two,” Trace answers.
“We can open presents after that,” I add.
“Until then, I know Trace brought everything to make gingerbread men and sugar cookies.”
“I did that.” Trace stands and drags us both to our feet. Before I know it, we’re happily cutting cookies out of dough with Christmas cutters that Trace also brought. I’ve just added a star to the cookie sheet when Beau blows back in looking frozen.
“Damn, it’s still colder than a witches—” He stops when he sees me wrist deep in cookie dough. “Is that sugar cookies?”
“It is,” I say. “Here.” Peeling a piece of dough off, I hold it toward him. His gaze turns stormy as he sucks it from my fingers with his lips.
“Whew,” Trace exclaims, fanning his face. “Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?”
“It’s mostly you, sweetie. But, that was pretty good too,” Travis answers. “You know what we need? Music. Do you still have all of the Ed Sheeran albums, Beau?”
“Ed Sheeran, huh? I approve,” I tease.
“I do, but how do you propose we play them? There’s no electricity remember.”
“Oh, I’ve got this. I brought a guitar,” Travis says. “Wash up and make cookies. Maybe we can convince a certain someone to play us a tune while we’re at it.”
He jogs into the living room, and we hear the front door open. He returns a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar. Pulling it from the case, I strum a few chords. Not bad. Then I start singing my favorite Ed Sheeran. I know every song on my favorite playlist by heart. I’ve got this.
They hoot and holler every time I begin a new song. Beau watches me so intently I wonder if he even realizes he’s made close to ten donkeys out of sugar cookie dough.
Travis and Trace take turns dancing around the kitchen and working on cookies. I haven’t had this much fun performing since that night on the picnic table. I wish they could tour with me all the time.
I continued to sing until it was time to set the table for Christmas dinner. Beau and I pulled the table out from the wall while the others worked on the food. Beau disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a beautiful Christmas tablecloth. It was white with hand embroidered holly running along the edges.
“Hey, you kept Mom’s favorite tablecloth.” Travis grins at Beau. “She did the handwork on it,” he adds to me. “She was always sewing stuff. Did you keep her dishes too?”
“Of course.” Beau motions to me to follow him toward the back of the house. When we get to his bedroom, he closes the door and pulls me to him. “The dishes are in one of the closets, but I really just wanted you alone for half a second.” He bends and kisses me. “Jesus, you taste like sugar cookie,” he whispers when he stands back up.
“Are you sure? Maybe you should check again.” This time, he doesn’t just kiss me, he picks me up and presses me against the wall of his bedroom. I wrap my legs around his waist as he trails kisses down my jaw, to my neck, and over my shoulder.
“Hey, guys,” Travis yells from the kitchen. “We really need the table set before the food gets cold.” Beau gives me a frustrated smirk when he stands back up straight. Slowly, he eases me to my feet.
“There’s something to be said for a quiet Christmas you know,” he says with a scowl.
“You don’t mean that. You love having your brother and Trace here,” I scold back. He opens a small closet door and starts filling my arms with dishes from one of the shelves. “These are wonderful.” The plates have Christmas trees on them.
“Mom inherited them from an aunt. She always loved them. I figured I’d hang onto them for Travis.” We carry them back down the hallway to the kitchen.
After laying all of the dishes and silverware out, I return to the closet for an assortment of candlesticks and candles. The fact that I have to find them using a lantern isn’t lost on me. It’s ridiculous. But at least the table looks nice.
“Food is coming in hot. Reacher, go lay down,” Travis says, setting the first dish on the table. Beau and I move out of the way as he and Trace move everything to the table.
I’m not sure how they produced so much food without electricity. I think there is more than I’ve ever seen before. Everything from a glazed ham to sweet potato casserole cover from one end of the table to the other.
“This looks amazing,” I say as Trace adds a basket of rolls. “I can already tell I’m going to eat way too much. My moaning later will be on your head.”
“Not Beau’s?” He smirks back. My face instantly catches fire. Blushing sucks. You can’t even deny anything when your face gives you away.
“Busted,” Travis says with a laugh. I sneak a glimpse of Beau. There’s a scowl on his face, but it’s just as red as mine. Yeah, we’ve been busted. I wait for Beau to start a rampage against his brother. Instead, he shrugs and picks up a piece of ham. “Really, nothing?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“This is just so not you. And it’s your turn to say grace. Put that ham down.” Beau sets his fork on his plate and takes my hand. I would think this is a wild declaration of us as a couple except he takes Trace’s hand across from him. Apparently, it’s a hand holding family.
His prayer is short, but gets the job done without being showy. I appreciate that. My father always went on way too long. It was like he was trying to get in every event for the last year in one rambling head-bowed speech. I’m not sure I’ve ever eaten a hot Thanksgiving dinner before.
“What’s the rest of your tour look like?” Trace asks me. Wow, this is the last thing I want to think about right now. But I would never say that. There’s nothing worse than someone who bitches about the amazing opportunities she’s been given.
“Tucson is next, then there are a couple in California. I have a small break, then it’s off to Charleston. I don’t remember after that. My label has me ping-ponging around for a while. I won’t see my place for a long time it seems,” I answer.
“When do you get time off?” Trace asks.
“Summer maybe?” I don’t really know. I’m still small potatoes in the music world. I go where and when they tell me. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. I just wish it wasn’t so much sometimes. “I’ll have a couple of weeks, then it’s into the studio.”
I’m actually excited to go to work on the next album. That tune I keep humming has been forming words in my mind. I can’t wait to put it down.
“That sounds exhausting,” Travis says.
“No more than law school, I imagine.”
“At least I don’t have to live out of a suitcase.”
“It’s not so bad. There are some musicians that thrive on it. They actually finish their tours in better shape than they were in when they started.”
“Like Beau. Can you image how old and fat he would get if he left here.” Travis grins when Beau throws his hands up in consternation. “Big ole beer gut.”
“He’d still be a stunner. A real man bear,” I point out.
“See,” Beau says, pointing his knife at his brother. “I’m not worried. I’ll just become a silver fox man bear.”
“Keep dreaming,” Travis says.
“I don’t know. A little gray at the temples. Maybe a sexy graying beard. You’d better watch out, I might start checking out the older brother,” Trace answers.
“You keep dreaming. I’m the only man you’ll ever want.”
“True.” Trace leans over to give Travis a quick peck on the cheek. Why are cheek kisses so sweet? It makes me want to swoon. They’re almost as good as the forehead kisses Beau doles out. “Now, who’s ready for dessert?”
“Oh god,” I moan. Travis and Trace exchange a grin. I swear I’m saying nothing from now on. It’s like dealing with a group of teenage boys.
“How about we clean up while y’all chill in the living room?” Beau suggests. “You cooked. Harmony and I can take care of this.”
“Yeah, you can, dog.” Travis laughs as he gets up from the table.
“Jesus,” Beau breathes. They’re still laughing when they reach the living room. Beau pushes up from the table. “They’re like having two obnoxious brothers. I don’t remember him being this bad in high school.”
“Did you have a lot of women over when he was in high school?” I ask, helping him stack plates on the counter by the sink.
“Never. It didn’t seem like a good role model to have a revolving door of women at the house.” He fills the kettle and sets it on the stove to heat.
“Exactly. This is new, and he can’t help teasing you about it. He’s just having some fun.”
“I know, but thanks for not trying to flee out the door.” I lean against the counter while we wait for the water to heat. “He doesn’t really bother me though. You do. I’m desperate to throw you over my shoulder and haul you to my bedroom.”
He fists my hair and pulls me against him. His lips brush against mine tentatively before crushing them in a brutal kiss. His tongue insists on controlling mine as if he’s desperately trying to imprint his touch in my mind.
He doesn’t have to worry. I couldn’t forget him if I tried. The kettle whistles, and he pulls back. His hand stays in my hair for a few more moments as he traces my face with his dark gaze.
Then he’s gone, and I hate that stupid kettle with my whole being. How will I survive on the road knowing he’s so far away? I don’t even want to be in the next room without him there. Is this what love feels like? Leaving is going to be harder than I expected.
“Do you want me to put more water on for tea? Or do you want hot chocolate?” he asks. Is he feeling what I am, or is he able to chalk this up to nothing more than a chance encounter? He sets the kettle on without waiting for my answer. I grab a dish towel and move next to him. Silently, we wash and dry the dishes.
“I know I don’t have any right to say this,” he says quietly. “This is gutting me. I’m not ready for you to go.”
“Me too.” He nods his head without looking at me. I help him haul the dishes back to the closet and put them away.
It won’t do any good to ruin the day by trying to reason out how to be together. His life is here, mine is somewhere else. So, we do the only thing left to us. We carry heaping mugs of hot chocolate and plates of pie into the living room.