16. Tessa
16
Tessa
W e regret to inform you that we are not hiring at this time. We will keep your resume on file should any positions become available.
This seems to be all I’m getting lately. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t discouraged every time I open my email. I’ve put in applications for anything I can find in publishing, but even the larger cities aren’t showing many options. I want to get out, but not having a specific place in mind is stalling my search. And frustrating the hell out of me.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been a little distracted lately. I haven’t had much time to widen my search because all I can think about is a certain boy and his kisses. Beau is constantly on my mind. I can’t concentrate at work. Even when I’m with Peyton, part of me is expecting him to come through the door.
We have a free morning so I brought her to the pond with me to make up for all the time I’ve been spending with Beau. She’s only mentioned a few dozen times how nice it is here and how we should come more often. She swam with me for a while, but now she’s lying on her stomach sunning herself.
“Did you see the way Nathan was eyeing you at Hal’s this morning? He practically had to roll his tongue back up so he wouldn’t trip over it.”
“Please.” I know she’s rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. “He’s a child.”
“He’s a year older than us,” I tell her indignantly.
“Age doesn’t matter, Tessa baby. Some men will always be boys and he’s one of them.”
“So it’s a man you’re looking for?”
She slides her sunglasses down her nose, playing coy. “I’m not looking for anyone, but I’m not going to end up with my brother’s best friend.”
“Mmmm, a handsome stranger then?”
“Did someone say handsome?” We whip around at the sound of Beau’s deep voice coming through the last row of trees.
Peyton turns back to me with an unamused look. “Did you invite him?” she says loudly as he plops down next to her on the quilt spread over the grass.
Before I can answer, Beau says, “I didn’t know I needed an invite to come onto my own property.”
He gives her a quick peck on the cheek and Peyton, who’s love language couldn’t be further from physical touch, swats him away. “What do you want? We’ve barely been here an hour.”
He leans back on his hands and turns his attention to me. “I wanted to see how you were feeling?” His eyes sparkle behind the casual smile. What is he up to?
“How I’m feeling?” I give him a puzzled expression and he nods. “Fine, I guess.”
“Not feeling a little off? A little stir crazy.”
My eyes harden. He wouldn’t dare tell Peyton, would he? “No, I’m good, Beau. Thanks.”
“What is this?” Peyton asks, looking between us.
I roll my eyes from the edge of the water. “The same annoying routine, as always.”
Peyton lifts her sunglasses and a slow smile spreads from the corners of her lips. “Did you two fuck?”
“What? No!” I huff, but Beau just sits there grinning. I shake my head and mutter, “God, Peyton. He’s your brother.”
“And? It was only a matter of time. I can’t believe you lasted this long.”
“Pey!” I groan. Her bluntness knows no bounds.
“We didn’t,” Beau says firmly. He rolls his head over to her and a look that can only be described as twin understanding passes between them. She nods and goes back to tanning her backside on the blanket. They do this all the time and I hate being the odd man out.
“Beau’s helping me with something,” I blurt so I can be a part of the conversation again. I can’t handle any more secrets, especially between Peyton and I. So I decide to come clean before he has a chance to. “I have a list of things to do to keep myself from going crazy. And this one,” I throw a look his way, “weaseled his way into helping me complete it.”
I intend to seem irritated, but I’m sure Pey sees right through it. It’s really not my fault when he smiles at me that way.
After a moment, Peyton says, “You should get a tattoo.”
Another thing to love about her. I never have to explain what I’m thinking. Mentioning the list was enough for her to think it over and add something I’ve been dying to do. Another best friend would be upset about not having been included, but she wants Beau and I together as much as everyone else does. She’s quiet about it though, never pushing the idea, just patiently waiting for it to happen.
“No,” Beau answers flatly.
“Why not? That’s a good idea! I’ve always wanted one.”
“No,” he says again.
“Why don’t you tell her why, Beau?” He gives Peyton a withering look, but she’s smug behind her aviators. “Someone’s afraid of needles.”
“Am not,” he mumbles.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest and soon I’m giggling. “Needles, McAbee?”
“Shut up,” he says, but there’s laughter in his eyes.
“You scared of the dark too?” I ask. I swim backwards, knowing where this line of questioning will lead.
“Watch your mouth, Jennings,” he warns.
“Heights? Spiders?”
Beau stands and though he was only wearing an old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, he reaches back and pulls it over his head the same way he did that night in his bedroom. My mouth starts watering. He toes off his shoes and wades in in his jeans, coming after me just like I knew he would.
When he gets close, he lunges, tackling me backwards. We thrash and play, grappling in the water and I don’t miss the way he slides his hand across my bare stomach or up the back of my leg. The contact is lighting me up.
“Help!” I shout to Peyton, who’s pretending not to watch from the bank.
“Nope. You got yourself into that mess.”
After dunking me under, he pulls me from the water breathless with excitement and whispers in my ear. “If it’s a tattoo you want, then that’s what we’ll do. But I get to pick the placement.” Before I can even agree, because let’s face it, I’m always going to agree when he growls at me in that gravelly voice, he gives me a huge, wet smack of a kiss.
“Beau!” I shout and smack his chest.
He turns and uses his arm to wave an entire wall of water in Peyton’s direction. It soaks her now-dry hair and she lifts her blonde head slowly. We both go still and I send a nervous glance Beau’s way. He isn’t looking at me, though. He has his hands on his hips, waiting to see what his sister will do.
“Oh no, you didn’t,” she drawls.
Peyton sits up and shakes out her hair. When she stands, I think she’s going to gather her things and leave, but she comes at us. Beau sloshes beside me, trying to get away but she’s too fast for him. She takes a running leap and jumps onto his back, throwing them both headfirst into the water.
There are a lot of things I hate about Pelahatchie, but this pond in the bright, cloudless sunshine is one of its best-kept secrets.
Later, at the General Store, I call out for my Dad. It’s time I start being honest.
“In here,” he says from the store office. He’s behind the desk staring at something on the computer and I lean against the doorway, stalling for time to get my nerves under control. “Did you need something?”
“Um, yeah, I just wanted to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
“I have to run to the bank before it closes, but I’ve got a bit of time.”
He doesn’t glance away from the computer as I take the seat in front of his desk, but maybe that’s better. Maybe not having to look him in the eye will help me find the right words. My hands grip the arms of the chair and I go for it.
“I think I’d like to travel.”
“Okay,” he says absently. He always does this. He’s only half listening. Work is always more important than anything I have to say.
“If I wanted to travel for an extended period of time, what would you do with the store?”
“I’d be here, honey. I can manage it while you take some time off.” He chuckles as he types, as if it’s such a silly question.
“Right, but if I wanted to go away for a while?”
“Tessa, what’s this about?” He takes off his glasses, finally looking at me and I force myself not to cower.
“I was just thinking about maybe doing something else?”
“Like getting another job?”
“Well, yeah. I’d like to–”
“Are you asking for time off?”
“Not exactly. I applied for a few jobs,” I blurt out. “In publishing.”
“Publishing? Like books?” He steeples his fingers and I wish he'd look back at the computer screen because his eyes on me are making my delivery worse. “Are these places around here?”
“Not exactly, no.”
“Honey, you’re going to have to give me a little more to go on.”
“I know.” I say, putting my head in my hands. “I’m not doing this well. I’m just thinking that I might like to do something else with my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know exactly, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for this. Did you always want to be a store owner?”
He sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Well I’ve never really thought about it. I grew up running it and I knew it would be mine when your grandpa died. The General Store means a lot to our family and I was proud of that. I am proud of that. So I didn’t think about doing anything else with my life. Does that clear things up?”
My stomach sinks. It doesn’t make anything clearer, but I nod anyway. This conversation was pointless. “Yeah, Daddy. That helps.”
“Is something else going on? Are you worried about taking over? I know I haven’t exactly trained you, but you've always known this is what you’re meant to do. I know you won’t disappoint me when the time comes.” He waits expectantly and I give him a weak smile. “We can always postpone the handover if it’ll make you feel more comfortable. Your mother and I don’t have any big travel plans yet. I want you to be proud of what we’ve created, too. You’re such a big part of this, Tessa. The next generation.” He stands and picks up his glasses, walking slowly towards the door. “I’ve got to get to the bank, but we can talk more later.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I stand with him and he places a hand on my shoulder as we walk towards the door. “Would you mind getting the orders ready for tomorrow? I didn’t get a chance to finish.”
“Sure.” He kisses the top of my head and walks out of the office.
I’m right back where I started.
You’ve always known this is what you’re meant to do.
You’ve always known this is what you’re meant to do.
It’s my fault. I fumbled my way through our conversation and hardly told him anything. I keep imagining the look on my dad’s face when I tell him I have no interest in running the store–now or in the future. It’s that image that keeps me from telling him the truth.
My parents aren’t bad people. They’ve done nothing to deserve this, other than raise a daughter who’s perhaps too independent. They’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed. They’re even giving me a ready-made future, I just wish I could accept it. It doesn’t change the fact that while they need me here, ultimately this isn’t where I want to be.
If I stay and manage the store, I’d have a home, a job, and a career. I’d have everything, I just wouldn't want any of it. Would I? I’m not sure why none of this is appealing to me. Anyone else would jump at the chance to have all this waiting for them. But not me. Everyone’s been saying it for years, maybe I am too stubborn for my own good.
I work through closing, but with so much on my mind, I’m not quite sure how I got here. The one bright spot in my night of worrying was Beau texting me to meet him outside after work. I changed into an oversized t-shirt and white, cutoff shorts before leaving and when I stroll through the back parking lot, he’s leaning against my SUV.
“Hey.” I give a little wave. I wasn’t nervous until I saw him standing there, but now there are stupid, little butterflies winging themselves around in my stomach.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
He takes my keys from my hand. “To get a tattoo.”
“What? Now?”
He smirks. “Did you have a better time in mind?”
“No, I just…”
He takes a step towards me. Even with the platform sandals I’m wearing, he has to lean down. “Are you chickening out?”
It’s not my nerves or the thought of the tattoo gun, it’s him standing so close that makes me lower my voice. “Absolutely not.”
“Good,” he says. “Then get in.”
“What’s wrong?” He asks on the way to the tattoo shop.
Shit. “Nothing,” I say, a touch too brightly. I can’t stop recalling the conversation with my dad earlier and despite crossing something else off the fuck-it list, it’s putting me in a funk. I hadn’t noticed the change in my mood, but I don’t put it past Beau to sense something is wrong.
He gives me an unamused look. “You’re quiet. What is it?”
“It’s just been a long day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
When I shake my head, his muscled arms flex on the wheel like he wants to pry but stops himself. He stays silent, content to watch me while I look out the window at the buildings blurring past. I didn’t want to talk, but after a few minutes I find myself asking, “Am I too hard-headed?”
“Yes,” he says immediately.
“You could have hesitated,” I tell him, poking him in the ribs, but he just laughs.
When I glance over, he’s smiling. The sun has gone down and his blonde hair shines green in the light from the dashboard. He’s so handsome, so happy, that sometimes it hurts to look at him.
“I could have,” he says. “But it wouldn’t be the truth.”
“You don’t always have to tell the truth.”
“Why? You do and it’s one of the things I love most about you.”
My breath catches in my throat because being straightforward and being truthful are two very different things. Nothing he could have said would have hurt me more.
Looking out the window, I say, “I don’t believe that. My bluntness causes most of our fights.”
“It does, but at least I always know what you’re thinking. I don’t have to wonder.” He ducks his head so our gazes are level. “What’s all this about?” Normally I’d pull away, keep all of this inside, but I’m trying to be better with him. To give as much as he gives.
“I had a really hard conversation with my dad.” Beau doesn’t butt in. He drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my bare thigh, waiting patiently for me to finish. It’s one of the things I find most attractive about him. “It made me reevaluate some of the things I want in life. And I guess I’m just wondering why am I the way I am?” I can’t look at him as I say it. Vulnerability is a thing that chafes.
“Some of us are just wired differently, Tess. You want what you want.”
He has no clue what I’m talking about, but he always hits so close to home. Are there things he wants too ? Things that cause him pain? I’ve never considered what Beau wants. Until recently, I haven’t considered him , but he’s changing that day by day. And I have to admit, there’s a sour feeling in my stomach at the thought of him hurting.
His light eyes hold mine across the seats and I almost tell him everything. How I’m almost able to push the thought of having to leave him completely from my mind until the next time I check my email. I almost tell him I’m dying to get out of here and take him with me.
That I’m getting in too deep.
That I might be falling for him.
Almost. Because when he breaks eye contact to look back at the road, I decide against it. It’s way too soon. Who knows if we’ll even get that far.
“Stop,” he says. He switches hands and rests his palm on the back of my neck.
I frown at him. “Stop what?”
“I can literally see you thinking about changing. Stop. I kinda like you the way you are.”
“Why? Why do you keep pursuing me when I push you away?”
An overwhelming sense of sadness suddenly claws at my throat. Beau’s head tilts, like he’s really considering the question and I could kiss him for not just brushing it off.
“Can I tell you something? Everyone in town knows my family, knows the clout we have. So most of the time, things get handed to me just because of my last name. It opens a lot of doors for me. But not with you. I have to work really hard with you.”
“And you like that?” When he nods, I laugh softly. “That seems insane. Why would you put yourself through that?”
“Because it makes me better. Before you, all I had to do to get what I wanted was make people laugh. That was all they expected of me. But you expect more and it makes me want to be more.” When he brushes my hair back behind an ear, I nuzzle into his hand. I’ve never needed someone’s touch the way I need Beau’s, but I don’t feel weaker for it. “If you didn’t put up a fight at every turn, I don’t know what I’d do. You’re worried about why you are the way you are? I don’t think you should ever change. You’re impulsive and strong-willed, yeah, but you can make anything happen. You don’t take shit from anyone, especially me. You could have anything you wanted, Tess.”
Covering his hand with mine, I try to let his words reassure me. “I’m sorry I’m not easier to deal with.”
Something like relief crosses his face when I lift my eyes to his. “I’ve gotten used to you not being easy, Firecracker. At least you’re nice to look at.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it more than he knows. “Who knew you were so wise?”
He cocks his head. “What are you talking about? I’ve always been like this. Everyone thinks Shep is the smart one, but it’s always been me.”
Just like that, Beau grins and it finds its way to my own face. Just a few words from him and everything that went wrong today is washed away. It dawns on me subtly, but then I think I must have known it for years. More than anything else about him, it’s the effect he has on people that’s so special. The way he lightens every mood. I’m going to do my best to hold on to that, even if it’s just for the summer.