9. Beau
9
Beau
S he pulls into one of the few spots behind Pelahatchie’s General Store after making me wait forty-five minutes. I can’t find it in me to even be mad because I’m so glad she decided to come.
When Tess gets out of the car, I’m glad I’m leaning against the bumper because she’s a vision from a wet dream I’m sure I’ve had before. Her skintight jeans leave nothing to the imagination. I bet when she takes them off they leave the prettiest red marks across her skin. She’s got on cowboy boots and a collared, white button down. The top’s unbuttoned enough that I catch a glimpse of cleavage and white lace when she climbs in.
How someone could make that outfit look elegant is beyond me, but Tess does. She’s too perfect for The Stampede. I feel a twinge of guilt for not taking her somewhere nicer. First date and I take a girl like this to a dive bar? Nice one, Beau. I glance over at the passenger seat, getting ready to suggest we go somewhere else, when my eyes lock onto the flat strip of her stomach showing. She’s tied up the bottom of her shirt. How in the world did I miss that?
I can’t take my eyes off her. And I can’t take her to The Stampede like this. Once she’s buckled her seatbelt, she waits expectantly. “Get out of the car,” I tell her.
“What? Why?” She frowns.
“Because I can’t take you out dressed like that.”
“Is it too much? I’ve never been there,” she says, looking down at herself.
“Too much?” I start the Jeep. “Remind me to stop and get beer on the way home.”
“Why?”
“I won’t be able to drink when we get there. I’ll be too busy fighting guys off you.”
She laughs and I have to remember to keep my eyes on the road. We’ve been alone in a car together only a handful of times, but never by her choice. My body is jittery with excitement.
Something about her is different tonight. The way she carries herself, it’s more free. When I think about it, she’s always been comfortable with everyone. Sure, she doesn’t have that many girlfriends, but the whole town loves her. She seems to have a ready smile for everyone except me. The thought makes my fingers tighten on the wheel, but I try not to dwell on it. She’s here now.
I glance over at her from time to time while we listen to the radio. Her head bobs along with the music, her dark hair swaying over her collar, but it’s those jeans that are going to get me in trouble. I’ve never wanted to be fabric, but the way they’re hugging her ass, I’m already insanely jealous the men at the bar will get a good look at her curves. I really should have made her get out. The patrons at the bar aren’t going to know what to do with her. I don’t know what to do with her.
We pull up and the place is packed. I tried to bring her somewhere far enough away that we wouldn’t be recognized. I figured if we went somewhere out of town, she’d be more willing to be herself around me. Pelahatchie’s princess doesn’t want to get caught hanging out with someone she said she’d never fall for, especially not here, of all places. I suck in a deep breath of humid air and steel myself, trying to tamp down the nerves that skitter under my skin.
Thankfully, the inside of The Stampede is dark, lit only by the stage lights and the neon behind the bar. The band is loud and people are everywhere. I reach my hand back so she can follow me through the crowd, but she raises a mischievous eyebrow. No touching, remember ? I feel her grab the back of my belt instead; her knuckles grazing my lower back. Too bad for her, that little action makes my stomach swoop more than any hand-holding would. I fight a smile.
When I look back over my shoulder, Tess’s head is swiveling around, trying to look everywhere at once. “Wanna get a beer first?” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close so I can shout over the blaring country music.
“Yeah!” she shouts back.
She glances down pointedly at my arm holding her, reminding me of her condition for coming. Unwillingly, I let her go by the side of the bar, hiding it with a laugh. I order drinks and we find a place to stand at one of the tables around the dance floor.
I can see eyes on her as she moves along to the beat and I use the crowd as an excuse to move closer. It’s not a big room, but there are plenty of guys I want to block her from. I want to wrap my arm around her hips and pull her back against me so everyone will know she’s mine, but she instituted that stupid, fucking no-touching rule. A hand on her back, in her back-pocket, I don’t care, anything to get my fingers on her skin. Something to claim her.
“I’ve always wanted to learn,” she says abruptly and it takes me a minute to untangle my thoughts from her smooth skin. It clicks when she points at people getting ready to line dance.
“You don’t know how to dance?” I say, shocked.
“Not like that.” She shakes her head and the waves of her hair bounce. “I never learned, I guess.”
“You sure you’re from Georgia?” Thanks to my mom, I grew up dancing and this is the perfect opportunity to teach her something. She’ll hate it, I think wryly. Tess shoves me playfully and takes a sip of her beer. This couldn’t be better timing. “Come on,” I say, taking her bottle and setting it down. I pull her behind me to the packed dance floor.
“Beau, wait!”
“You’re not scared, are you?” I tease, taking two spots in line.
“No, I’m just… You know how to dance?” she asks in disbelief.
“I know how to do a lot of things.” When I give her a meaningful wink, I think she’s going to roll her eyes, but she surprises me by laughing again. God, I spent too many years with her scowls instead of her laughter. I can’t keep the smile from my own face.
We don’t have to wait long for the music to start. I lean down to guide her; where to put her feet, when to turn, but she picks it up fast. She watches the other dancers, trying to learn from their moves, but every time I feel her eyes on me, my whole body lights up. Her eyes are usually dark and I shouldn’t be able to tell their color in the dimness, but whenever we spin and the neon flashes, they’re bottle green with excitement.
I catch her watching me. “You’re starin’.”
“I’m trying to learn,” she says coyly. But she tosses head in the other direction and I wish I hadn’t said anything.
“You’re pretty good for a beginner,” I tell her, shamelessly trying to get her eyes back on me.
“You’re an okay teacher.” Her face is stern but when I raise my eyebrows, she drops the act and bursts out laughing. “Alright. You’re better than okay.”
“Wow,” I say sarcastically. “Such high praise.”
“That’s all you’re getting, McAbee. Don’t get used to it.”
Challenge accepted.
One of the things I love most about Tess is that she’s up for anything. Another girl would have waited at the edge of the dance floor to learn the steps before trying it out. Another girl would have cared about embarrassing herself, but not my Tess. She jumps right in. Dives in head first and it’s an amazing thing to witness.
We dance like this for a few more songs and soon, she starts adding her own moves. She has an ear for the music and adds her own flair in perfect timing. She spins and rolls her hips, moving to the rhythm and I’m mesmerized. The way she’s moving her body makes me wonder what it would be like to have her move like that on top of me. If she were sitting on my lap and…
I force myself to think of truck tires, garbage on the street, anything to stop my dick from hardening in my jeans. When I can control myself, I sneak a peek at her. She’s sliding across the floor and stomping her boots to the beat, looking like she’s really enjoying herself. Her cheeks and lips are pink with exertion, her hair flying out behind her as she dances and this image of a tiny firecracker comes again to my mind. She feels me watching and her eyes meet mine. When she bites those lush lips and smiles at me, I have to think about unpleasant things again.
When the music changes to a slow dance, I incline my head cooly, but she looks nervously around and says, “I’m thirsty.” I lead her to the bar to order drinks. This time, there’s a stool open at the end and I tell her to sit while I stand next to her. She looks so tiny sitting here that I wish I could switch places and cradle her on my lap. Too bad she’d probably bust my lip for trying.
“I had no idea you could dance like that,” she says while we wait. “I thought Shep was the only one with moves.”
A spark of annoyance rises at his name. I want all of her attention, but I try to smile good-naturedly. “Oh no, mom taught all of us, but I’m the best. Shep can get by with a slow dance when he has to, but Peyton couldn’t dance if her life depended on it.”
“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dance.”
“You won’t,” I smirk. “She only displays the things she’s good at.” That makes her laugh and my chest swells with pride. “You’ve really never been here?” I ask, taking a sip of my beer.
“Nope. In high school, Kyle Owens tried to bring me once, but I didn’t have a fake ID.”
“Firecracker, I doubt they even check IDs here,” I say, laughing. She cocks her head and I know I’ve said something wrong. Firecracker. Shit. I let it slip out. I try to move past it. “Kyle Owens? Seriously. He probably thought he could get you drunk and feel you up in the backseat of his truck. Douchebag.” I shake my head and take another sip.
Tess crosses her legs and my eyes are drawn to the shadowy space between her thighs. “He thought right,” she says casually.
My head whips in her direction and I have to stifle a groan. I don’t want to think about anyone else’s hands on her. The thought of her naked with another guy makes it feel like the bottom just dropped out of my stomach. I try hard to keep the anger out of my voice, but I don’t think I manage it.
“I can’t believe you let Owens touch you. He’s a creep.”
“I’m sure it’s no worse than anything you’ve done to half the girls in town.” She levels me with a stare that dares me to say different.
“I think you’d be surprised at who all I’ve slept with, Jennings.” I turn away from her and look out at the crowd dancing below the band.
“What was that you called me?”
Just when I thought she had forgotten. “When?” I try to play dumb. “How can you hear anything over this noise?”
“You called me,” she tilts her head, thinking back. “Firecracker, was it?”
“No way,” I say too quickly, still not looking at her.
“Did you just give me a nickname?” A dizzy laugh slips from her. “Why Firecracker?”
“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. You okay here?”
She stares me down with a long look. She must realize she’s not going to get anything out of me because she turns her gaze to the crowd and says, “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Be back in a sec.”
In the bathroom, I grip the sides of the tiny sink and stare at myself in the mirror. Shit. That was such a stupid slipup. I’ve made a fool of myself in front of Tessa plenty of times, but that one was damn-near juvenile. I don’t need her to know how obsessed I am, and giving her a secret nickname is pretty high up on the intense obsession scale.
I take a few deep breaths and get ready to face her again. I’ll see if she wants to dance, we’ll have a few more beers, and I’ll take her home. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.
When I get back to the bar, she’s not on her stool. She’s not anywhere I can see up or down the scarred length of bar. Where could she be? Did she leave? I push past people on my way back to the restrooms, thinking maybe she went in when I did, but after a few minutes, she doesn’t come out. Panic rises in my throat. My eyes scan the dingy room for her dark hair or her white shirt, but I’m not seeing anyone that resembles Tess. The number of women here is concerning. There’s hardly a few dozen, where there are twice as many guys. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her to a place like this.
A burly man in a plaid shirt moves to the left and I spot her on the dance floor. Thank God. The guy she’s dancing with was blocking her petite frame from view. The tightness in my chest simultaneously eases and constricts. I found her, but she’s dancing with someone else. Fuck. I want to rush out there and haul her back to my side, steal her away so all she can see is me, but doing so would just ruin our night. If I make a big show like some macho caveman, she’s going to get pissed and leave.
So I watch. I watch her dance with someone else, back and forth across the floor to a slow song and wish it was me she was dancing with. Me she was looking up at with those pretty, green eyes. Me who had a hand resting on her lower back. Fuck this.
It feels like an eternity, but the song ends and I’m already walking out to her. The guy laughs at something she says, but they part ways and I take her hand before she knows it’s me. She whips around to find me glaring at the dude’s retreating back. The band rolls right into another slow dance and I pull her into me without asking.
“I see he doesn’t have a no-touching rule.” I try to pass it off as a joke, but it doesn’t land.
“Randy was very nice. And he doesn’t have a history of touching when it’s not wanted.”
My gaze meets hers quickly and then I focus on something above her head before I let my worry show. “You can’t just walk away like that.”
“I was fine. I was dancing.” She narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
“This isn’t the safest place. You can’t…”
She cuts me off. “You wouldn’t have brought me here if it wasn’t safe and I can do whatever the hell I want.”
She starts to move away, pushing in my arms but I can’t let go. Not yet. My hold tightens. “I couldn’t find you,” I say roughly, wanting to shake her to make her understand the panic I felt. “I thought something had happened.”
My throat works on the words and her expression changes from frustration to compassion. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.” I must still look anxious because she reaches up to cup my face. “I’m fine, I promise. I was just dancing.”
I nod my head, feeling stupid for getting this worked up over nothing. So much for playing it cool.
We sway to another slow one in an heated silence and are just about to leave the floor when a fight breaks out next to us. Two guys throw punches and everyone backs up to give them room. The blonde girl they look to be fighting over is shrieking at the top of her lungs. She tries to pull them apart and gets shoved to the floor. Tessa gasps and moves to help her up before I can grab her.
“Tess, wait!” I shout.
My nerves seize up at the thought of her getting hurt in the melee. The Stampede is known for rowdy behavior. I’ve been in a fight or two here over the years, but this is getting out of hand fast. People are being shoved left and right and many join in a fight that isn’t theirs. It gets bigger and bigger, radiating out from the two men who started the brawl. The house band doesn’t even pause the song they’re playing, making everything too loud and too close.
Tessa pulls the girl from the floor to her feet and turns wild eyes to look for me. A beer bottle shatters near her and she ducks, throwing her arms over her head. I’ve gotten pushed farther away from her and I’m fighting my way around bodies to get back, shouting her name the whole time. I throw a few punches of my own, but I don’t see where they land. When I finally reach her, she practically jumps into my arms.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I scan her body nervously, but she shakes her head. When I take her arm to pull her off the dance floor, she winces but I barely note it. People are pushing around us, trying to get to an exit, but I duck down the hallway with the bathrooms. There’s a side entrance back here and I lead her through the door and out into the warm night air.
When I shut the door, all sound stops and there’s only muffled country music we can barely hear. We lean against the side of the building catching our breath. Tess’s chest is rising and falling rapidly and I’m drawn to the curves of her breasts through the open neck of her shirt. I look away, chastising myself for leering at her when she’s clearly upset. Until she laughs.
I push off the building, worried. But she’s leaning over, hands on her knees, cackling like a witch. I can only stare as she keeps laughing, sucks in a huge breath and laughs some more.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” I ask her, putting my hands on my hips.
“I haven’t had that much fun in years,” she says breathlessly, through bursts of giggles.
“Fun? You were almost trampled! What were you thinking trying to grab that girl?”
“She was going to get hurt!”
“So you jump right into a bar fight? You think that’s fun?”
“Yeah.” She looks at me, barely holding it together. “I don’t get out much.”
That sends her over the edge. Her laugh is infectious. It’s so happy, so joyful, that I’d never tire of hearing it. I can’t keep myself from joining in. It starts out small and soon my shoulders are shaking and the sounds we’re making surround us, ruining the stillness. She puts her back against the metal door and slides down to sit on the ground.
“You’re insane, you know that?” I ask after a moment.
“I know. I was insane to agree to a date with you, but that last part…that last part was fun.”
“Oh, it's a date now, is it?”
We’ve mostly calmed down and she turns a narrowed gaze on me. That’s when I notice red seeping through the arm of her shirt. It’s not a lot, but my heart lurches anyway.
“What happened to your arm?” I ask loudly, taking hold of her shoulder to turn her towards me.
She looks down and shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe a piece of glass got me when they threw that bottle. It doesn’t hurt.”
I inspect her arm and sure enough, there’s a slice where the glass cut through her shirt.
“Come on, let’s get you patched up.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital or anything. I can clean it when I get home.”
“No way. I have stuff in the Jeep.”
We round the side of the building, crunching the gravel and making our way to the parking lot. There are a few people outside, but everything looks back to normal. In fact, it doesn’t look like anything has even happened from out here. No one glances our way as we find my car in the back of the lot.
I take her arm, helping her sit in the passenger seat. “I’m not an invalid, Beau. I can sit by myself,” she teases.
“Excuse me for trying to be a gentleman.”
I circle the car to grab the first aid kit I’ve always carried with me. Growing up out here, you never know what you’ll get into and we’re not exactly close to a hospital.
When I get back to her side, I pretend not to notice how she widens her legs so I can step in close. It’s an unconscious movement, but damn if I don’t love the electricity that cuts through me as she spreads her thighs. Sitting like this, it would be so easy to kiss her.
“You’re going to have to take your shirt off.”
She gives her best bullshit look and says, “Absolutely not.”
“How do you want me to bandage your arm?”
“I’m fine. I don’t need you to fix it.”
“Will you take your goddamn shirt off, please? At least take your arm out. I let you get hurt while you were with me and I’m freaking the fuck out here. Could you cut me some slack? I’m not trying to get into your pants!”
She stares at me with wide eyes and I guess that makes sense after I just spewed all my anxiety at her. I sigh frustratedly and rub the back of my neck. I’m more irritated with myself for letting yet another thought I wanted to keep in slip out. She gets under my skin so easily.
Tess huffs and starts unbuttoning her shirt. She doesn’t look at me, but rather off to the side while she does it, as if it’s somehow against her will. I wait, not saying a word since she did give in. She shrugs her arm and I don’t miss the wince. Not protecting her feels like I’m the one who got injured. She focuses on me then and juts her stubborn, little chin out, as if to say, what are you waiting for?
I handle her arm as gently as possible, thankful that the cut isn’t deeper. It’s about a three-inch line, crossing the side of her bicep. Even the shape of her arm is beautiful, I think absently. Toned and tan. I wonder if it’s from swimming in the pond. I haven’t chanced a peek at the bra she’s wearing or her bare stomach as she sits in her jeans and boots, I don’t think I could handle it. As I turn her arm over, cleaning the cut, heat is coming off her like she has a fire under her skin. It’s probably leftover adrenaline, but someday I’d like to feel that heat skin-on-skin and see if she’s always that warm.
“Why the nickname?” She asks softly.
My eyes flit to hers and she stares straight at me, not giving me room to evade. I wrap her arm with gauze and tie it off while she waits for an answer. She shrugs her arm back into the sleeve, but doesn’t button it up.
“Can’t you just forget I said it?”
“No chance.”
Resting my hands on the seat on either side of her, I hang my head. “It’s what you remind me of,” I mutter.
“What?”
“A firecracker,” I tell her gruffly.
“I know that,” she says, matching my tone. “I’m asking why.”
I pause, deciding whether I should tell her everything. Fuck it, why not?
“When you’re mad, which is most of the time, you remind me of a firecracker about to explode. They’re so pretty and bright, like you when you’re smiling, but…” Here goes nothing. “They’re dangerous. You wanna touch it so bad, but if you aren’t careful, it’ll burn.”
My head is still hanging in front of her chest when I feel her slide her hands into my too-long hair. I’m in complete shock, but I don’t want to draw any attention to the fact that she’s touching me or she’ll stop. When she tugs on my hair to pull my head up, I go willingly. Her eyes have gone dark. Sensual. She’s so incredibly hot like this. Hotter than ever because she’s directing all that fire at me.
“You made it up tonight?”
“I’ve been calling you that in my head for months.” An odd look crosses her face.
“When I was little I used to burn my fingers all the time. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, actually. I do.”
“You’ve been thinking about me? For months?”
“I’ve been thinking about you my whole life, Tess.”
We’re quiet for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. She licks her lips and my eyes trail her tongue.
“Hey, Beau?”
“Yeah?”
“Touch me.” It was a bet I made, but I’m the one that’s lost.
My hands splay across her ribs and she breathes in slowly through her nose, watching me the whole time. I press a kiss to her collarbone and move up her neck, drinking in her sweet scent. She smells of something fruity, with an undertone of sweat that makes me picture waking up beside her. What she would smell like after a long night twisted in the sheets. Jesus Christ.
Tess moves her hands to my shoulders, as if she’s unsure about what she’s doing and I help her out. My hands slide from her ribs around her back and I pull her just a little closer. Her legs hug my hips and I feel her squeeze. Our mouths meet hesitantly, but the kiss grows deeper every second and I can’t get enough. I don’t want to stop to breathe or to think. My hands roam the small expanse of her back and her arms twine around my neck.
We’re oblivious to everything outside each other until someone knocks on the hood of my Jeep and shouts, “Get a room” as they walk to their car. Tess pulls away abruptly and I stop myself from reaching for her again. I feel a little dazed and she looks it too as she touches her swollen lips. I could have gone on like that all night.
“Damn,” she says, cutting the tension. “What is it with people interrupting us?”
She never says what I think she will. Tess gazes at me, a grin spreading slowly. An answering grin spread across my own face as she throws her head back, laughing. Oh yeah. I much prefer this to her yelling.