Beau
twenty-one
I creep out of Ollie’s bedroom and quietly close the door.
These days, after long hours working with the horses, he’s asleep before his head hits the pillow.
It’s not like he resisted bedtime before that, but in the early days of the guardianship, I’d check on him half an hour after bedtime and find him staring at the ceiling. That doesn’t happen anymore.
I still haven’t told him about the job at Kismet Creek. I’m too afraid of what it’ll do to him. And when I think about what my being here has done to Daisy, how she can’t bear to have me touch her when she’s sick and needs me, I can’t believe how badly I’ve messed this up.
I’m fresh out of the shower, hair wet and wearing nothing but boxer shorts, when someone pounds on the cabin’s front door. Not wanting it to wake Ollie, I rush to tell whoever it is to calm the fuck down. I yank on the door—and freeze.
Daisy stands under the buttery porch light, wearing the tiny skirt and skimpy tank she had on when she got in the car with the vet.
Her butterscotch hair is a little wild, her makeup is a little smudged, and her cheeks are flushed pink.
Her focus softens and sharpens as she sweeps her gaze down my half-naked body.
When her gaze catches on the daisies tattooed over my ribs, she blinks like that will erase them from her sight if not my skin.
“You’ve been drinking,” I say.
She scowls. “Why did you do it?”
She could be referring to one of a million things, but she’s not. I can see it in her face.
I glance into the darkness. “I thought you were out with the vet. How did you get here?”
“Emmett dropped me home, and then I walked.”
“You walked?” I glance at her heeled boots, then linger over her smooth calves. “In the dark? In those shoes?”
“It’s not far,” she argues.
“But you’re drunk.”
“No. I’m angry. And I want to know why.”
I exhale slowly. “Daisy—”
“Why did you leave me?”
Jesus. Pain twists beneath my ribs, and I flex my jaw. “Don’t do this.”
She steps closer and pokes me hard in the chest. “Why not? Because it makes you uncomfortable? Because it makes you feel bad? Because I’m forcing you to own your shit? Well, tough. I don’t care if you don’t want to do this. I do.”
I catch her wrist before she jabs me again. “Tomorrow. When you’re sober.”
“No.” Her narrowed hazel eyes are clearer than I gave her credit for as she yanks her hand free. “Now.”
We glare at each other. God, she’s magnificent. Beautiful. Brave. Full of fire. The kind of strength I never want to extinguish.
I move out onto the porch and close the door, not wanting to wake Ollie, then square up with my arms folded. “Fine. Ask me again.”
Daisy’s throat works as she draws herself up. “Why did you leave without telling me?”
I blink at the hurt in her eyes, but the rage rising up in my chest threatens to crush me unless I get it out. I never thought I’d do this. Never wanted to do it. And now I can’t stop myself.
“Why didn’t you want to marry me?”
She recoils. “I never said I didn’t—”
“No.” I cut her off before she tries to save my feelings with a lie. “You’re right. You said you had to think about it.”
“Because it was sudden.”
“Not for me,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell your family about me?”
She blinks, mouth open, and takes another step back. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“It’s got everything to do with it.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“It was always about you.”
She looks as if she regrets ever asking for answers, but she’s started something that I want to finish.
“So?” I push. “Why was I—why were we—a secret?”
“I changed my mind.” She wraps her arms around herself and instantly looks smaller. “I don’t want to do this after all.”
“We have to,” I say. “How am I supposed to work like usual when this conversation is unfinished?”
Her head jerks up, her arms fall to her sides, and her eyes grow hot.
“It’s been unfinished for a year!” she shouts. “It’s been unfinished since the morning I woke up and found you gone. It’s been unfinished since you refused to answer my calls or my texts or let me know where you were and what went wrong.”
“I was doing what was best for you!” I yell as the pain lances fresh. “I’m not good enough for you. You know it. I know it. I was the only one of us strong enough to admit it.”
She looks shocked, then enraged. “How can you say that? How can you believe it?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Daisy.” I push my hands through my hair, trying to remain cool as I unload a year’s worth of pain and regret.
“Maybe when a man finds out the woman he loves hasn’t breathed a word of his existence to the most important people in her life, he gets the hint.
Maybe when he gets down on one knee and asks her to spend her life with him, and she panics, he realizes he loves her a lot more than she loves him.
Maybe—just maybe—a man doesn’t need to be told a third time that the best thing he can do for a woman like you is let her go. ”
Her breaths come fast, her chest rapidly rising and falling. “I didn’t want you to let me go. I wanted you to wait.”
“Wait for what?” I throw up my hands. “This is me, Darlin’. There are no tricks up these sleeves. No money stashed away. No magical answers to the truckload of problems I bring to this relationship. You know everything there is to know about me. I gave you everything I had, and it wasn’t enough.”
She paces away, then back again, brow furrowed over flashing eyes. “So my family didn’t know about you. So what? I was going to tell them when I was ready and the time was right.”
“You’re telling me the time was never right in the year and a half we were together?”
Her eyes burn, but she says nothing, and I shake my head.
“You’ve got no idea how good you’ve got it, do you?
How lucky you are to have your family. A home.
Money. You’re so fucking privileged, and you can’t even acknowledge it.
But deep down, you knew. You knew I wasn’t good enough for this life or for them.
That’s why you never told your family about me, and it’s why we can never have a life together.
There are too many differences between us. ”
“How can you say that?” Tears well in her eyes. “That’s not why— I can’t believe—” She gasps for air. “I can’t believe you’d think that way about me. Was the time we spent together nothing to you? All the promises we made?”
“The promises we made to keep running?” I snap. “To never stand still? To never build a life together? In the end, only you wanted those things. I wanted more! I wanted something real.”
“What we had was real!”
“I wanted to make a home with you. I wanted to have children with you. I wanted the whole world to know you’re mine, and you wanted to keep me a secret.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Do you?” I retort. “I’d fucking die for you! Why the hell would I leave the woman I love unless I believed she couldn’t possibly love me back?”
“I loved you more!” she screams. “I loved you more than I ever wanted to love any man. I loved you so much it aches where that love used to be. It hurts to think of you. It hurts to breathe! And I hate you for it! I hate you for making me love you, only for you to leave. Why did you leave me? Why?”
She pummels my chest, fists falling with grunts and tears. At first, I let her, because I deserve it and expect her to give up after a couple of hard blows. But she keeps drumming, losing control, and I grab her wrists.
“What do you want from me?” I grind out, yanking her closer so she can’t get a swing between us. “I already offered you everything I had. Everything I will ever have. And you turned it down. What the hell do you want me to do?”
Her breath catches, her pulse flickers in her throat, and her hazel eyes grow wide.
I lean in, nose to nose, feeling the press of her breasts against my chest, the warmth of her skin, the thrum of blood in her wrist beneath my fingers.
The tension pulls tight, then tighter, tying us together.
A rope that was always there, twisting around the edges of the promises laying sharp and broken between us. Her lips part, and my heart races.
She squirms, and I just hold tighter.
“I hate you!” she spits. “I hate you so fucking much. I hate you, Beau. You ruined everything. I hate you!”
She works herself up, trying to get free, but I’m afraid she might hurt herself if I release her now. I can’t let her go again. I can’t. I can’t.
“Daisy!” I snap. “Stop fighting me. Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!”
She tosses her head, tears falling as she throws her body against mine. My blood pounds as I loop an arm around her waist, anchoring her against me, giving her less room to swing.
“Daisy! For fuck’s sake. Stop it.”
“Make me!”
And then, somehow… my mouth is on hers.
I don’t know who starts it, whose thread snaps first, but I’m kissing her, and I can’t stop.
I’m desperate for the feel of her, and it’s better than I remember.
Softer and sweeter and more violent. All the unfinished emotions between us bubbling to the surface.
Desperation and desire. Rage and resentment.
Wanting and yearning and loving and hating all at the same time.
For long minutes, our kiss is a battle, lips crushing and tongues lashing and bodies pressed together until she suddenly softens against me. Heat explodes behind my ribs, and I gather her in my arms. The kiss grows deeper. More desperate. Pulsing with desire.
I realize she’s crying when the taste of salt hits my tongue, followed by a whimper in her throat. My entire body freezes, and I pull away.
“I’m sorry, Darlin’.” I cradle her face and study her changing expressions. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just—”
“I know.”
She sets her slender hands around my wrists and her eyes drift closed. Mascara bleeds with the slow roll of more tears. Her lips are swollen and pink, and I drag a thumb across the bottom one to feel its heat.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper, drinking in her face the way I haven’t let myself all these weeks. “I’ve missed you every single fucking day since the night I left. I’m sorry, Darlin’. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”
My heart sinks as her tears flow faster, and she pulls free from my hold. I release a disappointed breath and step away, but then she takes my hand to stop me. She brushes her fingertips over the daisies on my ribcage, and I shiver at her touch.
“Hold me?” she says. “Just for tonight. Will you hold me while I sleep?”
I slip a hand around her neck and pull her forehead to my mouth, planting a kiss there before I rest my head against hers.
“I promised you these arms a long time ago,” I murmur. “They belong to you. Always.”
With her fingers twined in mine and my heart beating with heavy pounds, I lead her into the cabin. It’s quiet, Ollie unroused by Daisy’s visit, and I take her to my bedroom.
“Do you need something to wear?” I ask.
“Yes, please.”
I tow her to the dresser, neither of us willing to let go of the other, and when I hand her my shirt, she puts it to her face and breathes deeply as her tears begin flowing again.
My throat is thick, and I wonder how many apologies I’ll make before she forgives me. If there’s any number of I’m sorrys that can undo what I’ve done. Is there any way to repair the damage she’s done to me? Neither of us meant it, but we hurt each other just the same.
“I’ll give you a moment,” I offer, and at her meek nod, I slip out of the room, grateful for the opportunity to think.
I check on Ollie, pour Daisy a glass of water, then stand at the sink, gripping the edges and wondering what the fuck I’m doing. I kissed her. I couldn’t not kiss her, but it’s going to change everything. I just wish I could predict what.
But tonight, I can be what she needs. I return to the bedroom, and my heart skips at the familiar sight of her in one of my T-shirts perched on the edge of the bed.
She wordlessly accepts the glass, then takes a sip and sets it on the table beside the bed.
And when she quietly slips under the covers, leaving them pulled back for me to follow, I get in and curl my body around hers.
My arms hold her together, and I hope it’s enough to hold me together too.
She loops her arms around mine like she used to, threads her fingers through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and sighs as I inhale the scent of her hair so temptingly close.
She doesn’t speak, and neither do I. Whatever happened tonight is beyond words, and I don’t want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing. I don’t want her to leave.
I lie there, feeling her breathing get slower and deeper as her muscles soften, until I’m certain she’s asleep.
A worm of guilt takes root in my stomach, gnawing hard enough that I can’t close my eyes.
I wish I wasn’t the reason Daisy just fell apart, but I am, and I’ll spend my life making it up to her.
I hold her and breathe her in, and I wonder how I’m ever supposed to walk away from her now.