Chapter 41 Beau
Chapter forty-one
Beau
Her mouth isn’t on mine anymore, but I can still feel her there. The soft give of her lips. The way she tasted. Like wine and pasta and a hint of my whiskey. My new craving.
Fuck.
I roll my shoulders once, like that might loosen the tension that’s been coiled there all night, but it doesn’t help. I’ve wanted the woman in front of me for so long, my body is buzzing at the thought of finally having her.
I’ve wanted her since the day I saw her standing outside the airport.
That was the first crack. Watching her come through those doors—smaller than I expected, and stronger too.
Carrying everything she’s survived in the way she held herself, chin tipped up like she refused to let the world see her bend.
I remember thinking then that I wanted to be careful with her.
But careful doesn’t mean distant.
It just means intentional.
And dammit, have I been. I’ve been watching. Waiting. Letting myself feel every dangerous, quiet want without acting on it.
But tonight shattered all of that.
Watching her laugh between Lawson and I. Watching Jasper touch her like he already knew her body by heart. Watching her light up—truly light up—with all of us around her sparked something that took me by surprise.
It made me want in a way that almost took my breath away.
It made me just… want to be a part of it.
A part of her.
The moment at the counter plays on a loop in my head. The look Lawson gave me over her glass. A single glance, years of unspoken language packed into it. We’ve been reading each other for years, through busted knuckles and bad decisions and long nights we don’t talk about.
This okay?
Yeah. You?
Yeah.
That was it. That was all we said. But it was enough.
Now she’s standing in the middle of Lawson’s bedroom like she’s walked into a different world—one she didn’t know she was stepping into but somehow isn’t afraid of either. Her gaze flicks between us, breath shallow, pulse visible in her throat.
Lawson’s already moving. Not fast. Never fast with her. But he steps into her space, and she doesn’t retreat. She just tilts her head back slightly, giving him her full attention in this moment.
“Abigail,” he says quietly. “You want this?”
Lawson. Always steady. Always making sure.
Her answer is soft, but it’s sure. “Yes.”
He touches her then—hands at her waist, hold warm and familiar, pulling her just close enough that she can feel him without being overwhelmed. I see the way she melts into it, her body instantly recognizing his.
My chest tightens.
I move without thinking, coming up behind her, giving her space to feel me there before I touch her. When I do, it’s gentle—fingers brushing along her arm, then her hip.
She inhales sharply.
“Beau,” she breathes, and hearing my name on her lips like that—soft and wanting—nearly undoes me.
“I’m here,” I murmur against her ear. “As long as you want me, I’ll be here.”
Lawson’s forehead rests against hers now.
“I’ve wanted this,” he admits quietly, not caring that I’m here.
No shame. No hesitation. “Since the night I stayed with you. Since I knew what you felt like in my arms. Since I tasted you and heard you call out my name, I knew then just once would never be enough.”
Her breath stutters, and I watch her hands curl into Lawson’s shirt and the way her knees buckle just a little. I feel the way she leans back into me, trusting that I’ll hold her.
I do.
One arm wraps around her while my other rests on her ribs. She fits there like she’s always belonged, and the moment hits me square in the chest.
This isn’t rushed.
It’s inevitable.
This moment with her.
With them.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” I tell her softly, lips still brushing her ear. “We’re not askin’ for promises.”
Lawson nods. “Just honesty.”
Her eyes shine when she looks back at me, then to Lawson. “I want this,” she says. “I just… I’ve never done this.”
A slow smile pulls at Lawson’s mouth. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
I’ve never done this with Lawson, but I have a few times with Jasper.
I’m not ashamed to admit that he and I have shared a woman.
Never in a million years would I have ever dreamt that Lawson would want to do this; he isn’t a man who shares lightly.
But Abigail has changed something in him already.
Something that has made a man, one who is constantly worried about everything around him and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, do something for him.
And as fun as all of those nights with Jasper were, nothing has felt more right than standing here now with Abigail and Lawson.
Lawson holds her face in his hands, and when he kisses her, it’s slow and deliberate. And I’d be a fucking liar if I said watching her melt into it didn’t light a fire inside of me.
Her lips part on a quiet breath, fingers tightening in the front of his shirt, trusting him enough to come undone.
I don’t kiss her on the lips next—not wanting to pull her away from Lawson. I want to add to it. To be the counterpoint. The heat beneath the calm. So my mouth finds the curve of her neck just beneath her ear.
Her skin is warm and so fucking soft. She gasps when my lips touch her, the sound vibrating straight through me.
“Beau…” she whispers again against Lawson’s kiss, and this time her hand reaches back blindly, finding my forearm, fingers gripping me tightly.
I kiss a slow line along her throat, lingering where her pulse jumps beneath my mouth. I feel it there, fast and frantic, while Lawson keeps her mouth occupied.
Her hand lifts from my arm, trembling just slightly now, and her fingers brush along the stubble covering my jaw. Lawson’s hand slides into her hair, angling her mouth just enough that I hear the soft sound she makes when he deepens the kiss.
I press my forehead briefly to her shoulder, breathing her in while I steady myself.
Her fingers tighten on both of us before I lift my head just enough to murmur against her skin. “You still with us?”
She nods, breathless. “Yes.”
Lawson nods at me over her shoulder, both of us more than ready for what comes next.