Chapter 3
chapter three
Beau
It’s been three days.
I’m not normally one to mark time like this, but the truth is, the day I met Daisy feels monumental in some capacity. So my brain has been keeping track. Three days since I met her. Three days since her brother—one of my best friends—told me she was off-limits.
Of course she’s off-limits. For so many reasons. Her being Flynn’s sister is just one of them. How about the fact that she’s pregnant. I don’t have anything against babies or single mothers. But I am not dad material. So there’s no reason for me to even pretend otherwise. Even without her impending motherhood, Daisy is a wife-her-up kind of woman.
I don’t have those skills either.
When you’ve never been a part of a functional family, you can’t ever cross that line. I’ve never seen a husband and wife in action. Okay, not like that kind of action. I just mean, I don’t know how to be a husband. Watching my buddies Dane and Jack do it just doesn’t count. They found their other halves.
Pretty sure men like me don’t get those. Hell, as scarred as I am on the outside and as fucked up as I am on the inside, I’m pretty sure I don’t have enough of me left to make up half of a couple.
So yeah, Daisy is a no-fly zone. A suicide mission you don’t expect to come home from. Even knowing all that, I’m drawn to her in ways even I don’t understand.
I tell myself I’m just being a good friend to Flynn. Checking in to make sure his sister is okay in this brand new town.
But that’s all a lie.
Yesterday I managed to just drive by the row of small cabins. Twice. Before I made my way back home.
Today I’ve parked my truck down the street and snapped on Mouse’s leash.
What are you doing, Stevens?
I don’t know. I only know that I can’t stop myself from doing it.
I’ve barely made it half of a mile from my truck when my phone rings.
I tap my earbud to answer.
“What are you doing, asshole?”
“Good morning to you to, Romeo. Why am I an asshole?”
“Where are you?”
That question gives me pause.
“Are you reconning me?” I ask.
Romeo chuckles. “Nope. I can see you just from looking out my front window, which is what I was doing.”
“Who were you looking for?”
“Irrelevant. The point is, what the hell are you doing over here on this side of town?”
“Saddle Creek is a small town, Romeo. It’s hardly fair to say it has sides.”
Silence comes from the other end of the phone.
I sigh. “I’m walking Mouse.”
“Ten miles from your house.”
“It’s not ten miles.” More like seven, but what the fuck ever!
“You’re playing with fire, brother.”
“By walking my dog? Hardly.” Am I being deliberately obtuse? Yes, of course I am. Does Romeo know what I’m doing? Also, yes. Still, I’m not ready to admit to my—whatever this is, because it is most definitely not an obsession.
“So you drove your truck to this side—over here, away from your house—to walk your dog?”
“You know how skittish Mouse is. There are some corgis in my neighborhood and their barking at the fence always makes Mouse nervous,” I say.
“Corgis?”
“Yes. Two of them. They’re a menace.”
“They’re smaller than my feet.”
“Only because you’re a big motherfucker.” I exhale. “Was there a point to this phone call?”
“Just a reminder that Flynn was pretty clear on Daisy being off-limits,” Romeo says.
“I’m just walking my dog.”
“Dude, I saw the way you looked at her when Flynn brought her out to the sanctuary,” Romeo says.
I look up then and see the sun glint off of some golden curls. My heart thunders in my chest. For fuck’s sake, I’ve become a damned cliche. But that is obviously her walking towards me.
“I’m hanging up on you,” I tell my buddy.
He just laughs.
Daisy’s thick curves are outlined by a bright pink sports bra that is barely containing her magnificent tits. Her hips and thighs are encased in some sort of black, skintight fabric clearly handed down from the gods. It clings and molds, accenting the flare of her wide hips and the shapely curves of her thighs. Goddammit if I’m not getting a fucking hard on just watching her walk towards me.
I stop my progress on the sidewalk as she draws closer. Recognition lights her features.
“Beau? Right?” she says in that sweet voice of hers.
“Yeah,” I say, conversation genius that I am.
Her cheeks are flushed pink, and that color continues down her throat onto the pale, freckled skin above her distracting cleavage. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen in real life. Probably the prettiest woman in the world.
Mouse immediately walks over to her and presses his leg against her body. When he does that on me, he hits my thigh. But on Daisy since she’s not tall and he is, he hits her right in the belly. She scratches his chin, and he looks up at her, completely smitten.
I get it buddy, I really do. I don’t understand it, but I get it.
Maybe it’s her pheromones.
What am I even saying?
Mouse shifts his body back to me.
“It’s almost too hot out here to walk,” Daisy says. She holds up the t-shirt she was wearing, now discarded across her shoulder. “Normally I wouldn’t just walk around town like this, but it just got too hot. Not sure if it’s the hormones or what.”
I want to tell her that she should always dress like that. Or wear even less. Any of that would work well for me. But seriously, it’s like my brain has left the building.
“You look perfect,” I say, then glance away, clearing my throat. “That is to say, I hear you about the heat. I normally end up taking mine off too.”
Which is completely a lie. I would never take my shirt off out here in the open. And bare all of my scars for the entire town to see? No thank you. Still, I just said those words to her. They seem to give her some comfort because she smiles at me.
I’m not sure which of us has moved closer to the other, but we are standing pretty close now. I can see the green ring around the blue of her eyes.
Then she yelps and falls forward against my chest.
Instinctively I grab her by the hips to stabilize her. That’s when I look down to see that Mouse has effectively wrapped us together with his leash.
Daisy notices too and laughs.
The sound is pure magic and feels like warm sunshine spreading through my body.
Her hands fist in my shirt. My hands fit to her soft curves like they were meant to hold them. Our bodies press together in one surprisingly intimate knot. And for a second—just one stupid second—we both freeze.
Her breath brushes against my throat, quick and sweet, and her eyes lock onto mine.
Mouse, of course, sits on his ass like this moment is his greatest achievement.
With her body pressed against mine, I can feel the weight of her baby bump. I think that's what they're called. I don't know.
And all I can think of is that she's growing a person in there, another human being. She's just growing it.
I don't think I've ever, in my life, been more in awe of another person than I am of her. Even though I know women do this sort of thing all the time. But other women aren't pressed against me, smelling sweet and looking heartbreakingly beautiful with the wisps of curls framing her face.
The truth is simple: even though I don’t quite understand it, I just know other women aren’t Daisy.
“I don't know,” I say. “I’m probably not even going to ask this the right way. But, you know, I've never had a sister or mom or whatever, so I don't know, but like, when does the baby come?”
She smiles. “You mean how far along am I, or when is the due date? Those are generally the way people ask.”
“Right.” I shrug. “Yeah, so when is that? Sorry if that'stoo personal of a question. Your brother had mentioned that you were pregnant and?—”
“You can feel my pregnant belly, all sweat slicked pressed against you,” she says.
Fuck, why does that sound so delicious and filthy when she describes it like that?
“I’m about eighteen weeks. Nearly halfway there. Nugget is about the size of a banana right about now.”
“Do you know what it is?” I ask dumbly.
“Not yet. I have an anatomy scan soon. Had to locate a new doctor once I got here.”
Yeah, we’re having this entire conversation while trapped together with a leash. I am a moron.
Still, I find myself unwilling to figure out a way to separate us.
“Does the dog have a name?” she asks.
“I've been calling him Mouse, just because he's pretty skittish.”
“Mouse. I can see it.” She bites down on her lip and asks. “Think maybe we could work together somehow and see if we can get ourselves untangled.”
“Right! Sorry,” I say.
“It’s okay. It’s just that Nugget is poking at my bladder, and I’d rather not fall on the cement.”
“Oh, Daisy, I wouldn't let you fall. I mean, you could fall on me. I’ll take the hit to protect you and the baby.”
I do what I can to maneuver the leash around, having to unclip it from Mouse’s collar.
“Do not run away, you menace,” I tell him.
Like the lovesick fool he is, he stays right by Daisy’s side.
Finally I get us free and reclip the lead to his collar.
“So, how are you settling into your brother's cabin?”
“It's okay; it's an adjustment. Maybe I’m just not used to being so alone. I had a roommate in my flat in London, and then the first week here, I had to pretend the noises I heard in the cabin weren’t my brother and best friend doing naked things together.” She touches my arm. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that they’re together. That they fell in love. It seems like it was inevitable in many ways. But I don’t wanna hear them getting it on, ya know?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Anyways, so it’s an adjustment and there’s a lot of insomnia with pregnancy, so I wake up with every little noise. Then I work myself into a lather about what it could be.” She waves a hand. “I’m ridiculous. I’ll get used to it. It’ll be my new normal.” Her hand goes to her belly. “Until this one comes around and turns everything upside down.”
“You know, I might have a solution for you. And frankly, it would be a really huge favor for me—not that you were offering to do me a favor, or that I am owed one. But Mouse here, can't really stay at the sanctuary anymore.” Mostly because Mouse is my fucking dog. But I leave that part conveniently out. “All of the other dogs make him nervous, and he's just not settling in. Would you be interested in maybe fostering him, and he could stay with you? Just for a little while. Like on a trial basis.”
“That would be amazing,” she says.
“I mean you did ask him if he wanted to come home with you. Seems only fair that you follow through,” I say with a wink.
A goddamn wink.
Since when am I the kind of guy who winks at a woman?
Since Daisy, apparently.