18. Tessa
18
Tessa
“ H ow’s the new house coming along?” My mother asks Beau as she takes a bite of her pot roast.
She told me, in no uncertain terms, to invite Beau to dinner this week. Her way of saying my parents want to put their stamp of approval on our relationship, though they’ve been prepared for years. But it’s her question that has me choking on my sweet tea.
“House?” I ask him in bewilderment. “Did you buy a house?”
Beau clears his throat uncomfortably, but Mama, a gossip to her core, answers for him. “He sure did! I’m sure Ella and Mitch are so happy for you.”
She relishes knowing this before me. While he looks away, she shoots me a triumphant look. She’s practically humming Here Comes the Bride.
He bought a house. My emotions start to pile on top of one another. They rise up so quickly, it leaves me shaky. I hate this feeling. He’s settled. His staying here seems so final while I’m still up in the air. We might as well be a million miles from each other instead of across the dining room table.
“I’m sure they’re happy to get rid of me,” Beau jokes, but I can sense the unease under his fake smile.
When I don’t take her bait, Mama asks Beau, “What else do you need? Have you gotten all your furniture moved in?”
“Well, the kitchen is done and most of the living room, but I need furniture for the bedroom and a few other odds and ends.” He takes a sip of his sweet tea.
“Beau, honey, you’re not a frat boy. Tell me you’re not sleeping on a mattress on the floor.”
“Hey now,” he says while I stare blankly at him. “It’s worked for just about every guy I know. I bet Shep didn’t have furniture for a month when he moved away.”
“You know good and damn well Shep had everything he needed before he left.” Daddy chides him as if he’s Beau’s father and he might as well be, for how comfortable they are with one another. As closely as we were raised, both sets of parents have the same values, almost the same mannerisms.
Mama purses her lips over her wine glass. “A bedroom needs a woman’s touch.” She shoots me a knowing look and I snort. Here we go. Not five seconds after I get the news, she’s pushing me into his bed.
Beau pulls at the neck of his shirt. For someone who’s always comfortable, he has some pretty big tells when he’s not. “It’s a bit of a bachelor pad over there.”
Daddy gets up from the table to get another glass of tea. “Yeah well, you’re not a bachelor anymore, are you, boy?” He chuckles and pats Beau’s shoulder as he heads into the kitchen.
Beau raises an eyebrow at me and takes another bite of his food. “I guess not,” he says under his breath.
I fight a smile and glance at my mom, who’s dutifully pretending she didn’t hear a thing. “It sounds to me like you should take Tessa down to Newman’s and pick out a bedroom set.”
I cut my eyes at her. “It’s a little early for picking out furniture together, don’t you think?”
“I don’t. I actually can’t think of a better way to introduce the town to… Whatever it is you’re doing.” My mother grins wickedly. I roll my eyes, used to her antics.
Daddy comes back to the table and asks, “What did I miss?”
“Tess doesn’t want to go furniture shopping. She’s ashamed of me,” Beau answers matter-of-factly.
“She should be. She can do a hell of a lot better.” Daddy doesn’t spare him a glance as he spears a potato and chews.
Beau scoffs in mock-surprise. “Wow, y’all really know how to treat a guest around here.”
“You’re not a guest. That privilege wore off when you ruined my living room rug.”
He stares down the table in horror. “I was what? Nine at the time?” Mama shrugs and he turns to me, open mouthed with shock. “She’s still holding a grudge?”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t forgive.”
“Or forget, apparently,” he says sullenly.
“Son, let me tell you something about the women in this family,” Daddy chimes in. “You think you’re a guest until they get their claws in you. Then you’re a hostage. Best to treat them all with a healthy dose of fear.”
My mother lifts her glass and addresses Beau before taking a sip. “Beau, honey, be a good hostage and help Tessa clear the table. I’m ready for dessert.”
Beau has everyone chuckling as he throws his napkin down, picks up his plate and trudges off to the kitchen.
Since he was outed at dinner, we’re excused from helping clean up so he can show me the house. It’s more than a little awkward in the car and it’s completely my fault. It never occurred to me that Beau may have his own secrets, that maybe he’s also been trying to protect himself from getting hurt.
“Your mom was right,” he says to lighten the mood.
“About?” I ask stiffly.
“Testing out mattresses.” His chuckle is forced. “I really do need a bed.”
I say grumpily, “I’m just glad she didn’t say it in front of my dad. She loves making things awkward.”
Beau’s face turns serious. “Was it awkward? With us.”
I don’t even have to think before answering. “No.”
“I didn’t think so either.”
I was expecting another nerve-wracking experience, but dinner was just like any other. There was no outright mention of our relationship status, just a few small comments here and there. It was endearingly normal watching my parents tease him, the same way they have since he was a little boy. Like they’ve already accepted us and moved on. Turns out, there are more than a few perks to dating Beau.
He pulls up in front of a little white ranch with black shutters and a wide front porch spanning the length of the house. It’s the perfect starter home and exactly what I would picture for Beau. He cuts the engine and we stare out the windshield together, neither of us moving to get out.
“It’s beautiful,” I say solemnly.
I’d have to be heartless to spoil the look of pride on his face, so I force a weak smile and keep the sick feelings of guilt to myself. He can’t know what this house represents to me because I can’t get sidetracked, especially by him. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can find a job and I still have to find a way to tell my parents my big secret. I don’t have time for this. You don’t want to make time, the little voice inside me says.
“I wanted to ask you to come see it, but I wasn’t sure what was happening with us.”
My heart cracks open at his explanation. He isn’t apologizing and he shouldn't have to. This is such a great move for him and I decide then and there that even if it makes me uncomfortable to think about him building a life, I won’t ruin this for him.
“Come on,” I say, opening the door. “Show me now.”
Later, after he’s given me a tour, we’re sitting on the front steps when I say, “I guess this means we’re done with the fuck-it list.”
He looks at me sharply. “And why is that?”
“You’re a grown-up now.” I gesture backwards at the house. “You’re too mature to do stupid things anymore.”
“Are you calling me a goody-two-shoes?”
I snort. “Definitely not.”
“Would a grownup be thinking about getting you into my house and never letting you leave?” My heart beats wildly in my chest, wanting and not wanting that very thing.
“A brute maybe. Too bad you’ve fooled everyone into thinking you’re a great guy.”
“I am a great guy. Did you see the way your parents looked at me? We might as well be married already.” My face falls. I wasn’t prepared for the picture that comment conjured, but I try to regain composure quickly. I’m not quick enough because Beau pales as well. “Shit,” he says, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I never know what to say around you.”
He sighs and I decide to forge ahead, pushing my anxiety away. My fingers run through the hair at his neck without thought. He’s a sucker for a little physical touch and offering him this reassurance is becoming second nature.
“No, you’re right. That was probably the easiest time I’ve brought a boy home.” Beau is so expressive I can tell he feels better without looking his way. “Don’t let it go to your head, but I liked not having to prove anything to them, you know? They already love you and they know you’ll take care of me.”
I have a sneaking suspicion that Mama and Daddy think Beau will keep me out of trouble. Being with him would keep me safe and more importantly, close to home. With him, they’d have everything they ever wanted–an heir to take over the store and a daughter under their thumb. I’ve said it before, but no one stands a chance against Beau McAbee’s particular kind of charm. Not parents and strangely, not even me.
I’m rewarded for my candor when his face softens. He hugs me to him, his strong arms surrounding me like a familiar blanket. “Took you long enough to realize it.”
As easy as breathing, I turn and we kiss. My hands slide up his chest, rolling over the dips and swells of his muscles. He kisses me deeply and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to be here with him.
When we break apart, I stay wrapped in his arms. He plays with the ends of my hair. The moment has me feeling a little more sentimental than usual.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Oh no, here we go.” He shakes his head.
“No, nothing like that.” I take a deep breath, readying myself to speak my truth. “You know my independence means so much to me?” He nods. “I like that you let me be me with you. You’ve never tried to change me.” His hat is turned backwards now, but I brush a stray curl off his forehead and he leans into my hand.
While I’m just beginning to understand my feelings for him, he’s been here. He’s figured them out. When he said he’d always cared about me, it wasn’t an idle threat. He was just being honest. And why wouldn’t he? I’m so stupid. He’s always been this authentic, I just didn’t care enough to see it.
“You’re pretty surprising, you know that?” His Adam's apple bobs and his look is tender. “I couldn’t change you if I tried and I wouldn’t want to.” Beau plants the softest kiss on my lips. It’s sweet and comforting and just what I needed.
Two days later, we’re in the middle of downtown Pelahatchie standing in front of Newman’s Furniture. The store couldn’t be in a more central location. People we know pass us and smile. I’ve already waved at my second grade teacher and two ladies in my mother’s book club.
“I think people are staring.”
“Well yeah,” he says. “Because we’re just standing on the street instead of going in like normal people.”
“You really need my help?” An uneasy feeling washes over me and I recognize it for the reluctance that it is. This is so public and I was having so much fun keeping our relationship between the two of us.
“Nah, I just like that everyone knows you’re picking out my bed. Which means they also know how much time you’re going to spend in it.”
I shoot him a withering glare. “You’re awful.”
“Awful sexy.” He laughs and bumps my shoulder before walking ahead of me to open the door. “Come on.”
Inside, the air conditioner blasts, but it does nothing to cool the nervous sweat on my brow. This is an outing a more established couple should have. I can already hear them whispering in church. There goes Tessa Jennings, looks like she finally gave in. He finally caught her, didn’t he? Beau said he would. Why don’t I just start wearing an L for “liar” on my chest?
As he walks, my eyes get caught on the way his t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders. Blonde hair is curling under the baseball cap that he turned around just for me. My cheeks heat with a blush and an idea forms. Despite being reluctant at first, I think I’m going to have a little fun now that we’re here.
Beau stops to look at a leather armchair and my gaze travels down his trim waist to the way his jeans hug his ass and muscled thighs. I step up beside him and run a hand softly down the groove of his spine. His blue eyes search my face and note the way mine are heating.
“Don’t tell me looking at furniture turns you on.”
I lean back to admire his ass again. “No, I think it’s these jeans. They have no business fitting you so well.”
“Stop ogling me in public,” he says with a sensual smile. He moves away to wander through the aisles of dining tables. “What do you think about this one?”
“I like it, but you may need something a little more sturdy.”
“Why sturdy?” he asks. I shrug a shoulder and browse a little further. He follows as I wind through the chairs. He snags the waistband of my shorts and hauls me backwards. “Why sturdy, Tess?”
“Because,” I lean in to whisper into his ear. “What if we’re doing more than just having breakfast on it?” I whisper a little more of what I’m thinking before pushing his chest playfully and walking away again. When I don't hear him following, I look back over my shoulder to see him standing in the same spot as before, rubbing his chin.
“Come on, we have dressers to pick out,” I call.
“Give me a second.” My answering smile is feline.
When Beau recovers, we trail through more living and dining room set-ups. I brush against him as often as possible and whenever he tries to touch me, I move away. Quietly explaining what I’d like to do on or against certain pieces we pass slows our progress through the store, but messing with Beau is driving me crazy. His attempts to grab me get more and more desperate until he corners me behind a large, oak entertainment center and kisses me with his hands in my hair.
“Chill, McAbee. We haven’t even made it to the bedroom suites yet.”
“I don’t care,” he says between sweeps of his tongue. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”
“No, no, no. You dragged me here and asked for my help.”
“Then be helpful.” He tries to push my hand toward the bulge in his jeans, but I resist and he growls at me.
Dressers, beds and matching nightstands come into view and I really do try to help him pick something. We stop in front of a huge, traditional king-sized set with a bedspread of red and gold. I’m about to ask what he thinks, but he cuts his eyes to glare at me.
“I’m not fucking you in someone’s grandmother’s bed.”
“It’s not that bad,” I say, though it really is.
“No way, move on.” He leads me down the row.
“Is that your only criteria for picking something?”
“What? If I would fuck you in it?” When I nod, he says, “Obviously. Don’t act like that wasn’t your goal all along.” Beau wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close.
“I mean, I did tell you I wasn’t going to make it easy for you,” I say coyly.
“I never expected any less.”
We pass a horrible, metal set done up in black and gray. It’s perfect for a bachelor who wants to remain a bachelor for a good, long time, but the bed is all wrong for Beau. “Absolutely not,” I tell him. “Keep walking.”
“Why not?”
“You gonna get matching silk sheets too?” I tease.
I can’t see any of these pieces fitting into his house until we come to almost the end of the row. There’s just one that has me stopping short.
It’s a simple suite, but so very Beau. The headboard is one smooth slab of wood, as if it was cut from some massive tree in one piece. Everything is made from that same rich brown color except for the vein of lighter wood running naturally through the headboard. There’s a simple, white comforter and a few throw pillows on top, but the bedding is so fluffy that I can imagine exactly how comfortable it would be to snuggle down into it.
“What about this one?” He stands beside me, considering, and a soft smile spreads across his face.
“It’s not too masculine?” he asks, though he knows it isn’t.
“Not at all. Look how soft,” I say, running my fingers over the bedspread. “I think it suits you.”
He steps behind me and brushes my hair over one shoulder. “Are you calling me soft?” Beau loops his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. It may have been my idea to torture him all the way through the store, but all traces of playfulness are gone when he calls my bluff. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
It’s a challenge. We both know it. My cheeks redden, but I don’t back down.
“I was imagining how it would feel to be right there in the center. How the sheets and the blankets would feel against my bare skin.” My voice drops, whispering to him as he holds me. “I was thinking about how good it would feel to have you crawl up my body and press me down into the mattress.” His cock hardens behind me and the power I feel from that alone is more heady than any triumph. “How the entire bed would wrap around us as you open my legs and slide…”
“Tessa, Beau? How are you today? Anything I can help you with?”
Timothy Newman, the owner of the store, interrupts us with a bright smile. I try to shift away from Beau, but he tightens his grip on my hips and keeps me wrapped in his arms. To anyone else, it looks like nothing more than a sweet hug. Mr. Newman doesn’t need to know Beau’s dick is resting snugly against my lower back.
“Hey, Mr. Newman,” Beau says, reaching out for a handshake. “Yeah, I just bought a house and Tessa’s helping me pick out a new bedroom suite.”
The older man eyes us happily. “Yeah, your dad told me. I was wondering when we’d get you in here.” Though it’s a hundred degrees outside, Mr. Newman pulls a pen and pad of paper out of his sweater pocket. “Is this the one?”
He asked Beau, but Beau puts his chin back on my shoulder and sways us slightly. “I don’t know, babe. Is this the one?”
Babe. It fits. I nod, trying to keep my voice normal. “Yeah, I think so. It’s beautiful.”
“Great! This is one of my favorites too. Would you like the whole set or just the bed?”
Beau finally releases me and puts a hand on Mr. Newman’s shoulder. “We’ll take the set. The bedding too,” he adds with a smirk at me.
I take one last look and follow them back through the store.