Chapter 8
Noelle
We ate our mac and cheese naked.
Straight from the pan at the kitchen counter, no less—the same kitchen counter where this absurdly hot stranger had just railed me into oblivion. I was draped in one of his flannels, Beau still entirely naked…smug and tousled and entirely too proud of myself.
“This is the best mac and cheese I’ve ever had,” I said around a mouthful. “Like…fucking incredible.”
Beau snorted. “You said that about the sex, too.”
“I stand by both statements.”
He grinned and bumped his hip against mine, sending a surge of lightning racing through me. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to do it all night.
“You sure I didn’t just brainwash you with my dick?” he asked.
I put the fork down and raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “Thought it was funny.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Okay…so maybe I didn’t brainwash you with my dick. Noted.”
He nodded to himself as if he was really taking notes, then shoveled another bite of mac and cheese into his mouth. I watched him, leaning against the counter, just…observing.
God help me—I liked him.
I let my eyes roam over him, took in the curve of his shoulder, the set of his jaw, the quiet contentment in the way he ate like this was the best part of his week.
I’d stumbled into his town without any warning, a complete and utter disaster, but somehow…
somehow, he looked like he’d been waiting for it.
Waiting for me.
No one had ever looked at me like he did. Treated me like he did.
I needed to get the fuck out of this town.
“You really don’t just…do this?” I asked, blurting out the question without thinking. “Like—you don’t just pick up strangers who need help, fuck them, and send them on their way?”
Beau snorted. “You ain’t a stranger, Noelle…you’re just strange.”
I shoved his shoulder, laughing. “Fuck off.”
He caught my wrist before I could fully pull back, fingers curling around it gently—his touch firm but warm, thumb brushing once across my pulse.
“I mean it,” he said, all teasing gone. “I don’t do this.”
Something in my chest pulled tight.
“I’m not sayin’ I’m some monk or that I’ve never had a one-night stand,” he went on. “But I don’t bring women into my house. Don’t cook for ’em. Don’t…” He glanced down at where our knees touched. “Don’t just let myself want someone like this.”
I swallowed. “You know I’m not sticking around, right?”
“I know,” he said, then reached up to drag his thumb across my lower lip. “I ain’t thinkin’ that far in advance. Just enjoyin’ what we’re doin’ here tonight.”
My breath caught, but I nodded. Because that was the only way I knew how to survive things like this—things that felt like maybe, in another world, they could’ve been more.
“Okay,” I said softly.
Beau let my wrist go and reached for the pan again, scooping up another bite of pasta and holding it out toward my mouth. I rolled my eyes but leaned in, letting him feed me.
“Still hot,” I murmured around the bite.
“Still good?”
“Unfairly so.”
He grinned. “I still think that’s just the sex talkin’, but I’ll take it.”
I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of the flannel, then folded my arms on the counter and looked at him. “So what’s the deal with you, anyway?”
His brows lifted. “What do you mean?”
“You’re, like…weirdly nice. Ridiculously hot. You listen to Dolly Parton and make perfect mac and cheese. And what…you’re single? Either you’re a government experiment or you’ve got bodies in the crawlspace.”
Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “No bodies. No experiments. I’m just…me. Grew up here. Stayed here. Try to take care of people when I can. Fix what’s broken.”
“That your job or your coping mechanism?”
He paused. His smile dropped just enough to let something real peek through. “Bit of both.”
We went quiet for a moment, then Beau cleared his throat.
“You want the real answer?” he said. “It’s…you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”
I snorted. “Beau, I’m a professional paranormal investigator. I promise I’ve heard worse.”
He laughed softly, but I could tell he was being serious—so I tried to match his energy, reaching over to cover his hand with mine.
“I’m listening,” I said.
Beau sighed.
“Okay,” he started. “The thing is…my family was cursed until about a year ago now.”
I had to stop and process that for a second; he said it with full confidence, like he knew it was true. I inhaled…tried to come up with something to say…
“Meaning?” I asked.
He gave me a wry smile. “There was a witch trial in this town like three hundred years ago. My great-great-great grandpa accused her; she ended up gettin’ killed. And as she was dyin’, she said no Ward would ever keep what we loved, so I just…never dated.”
“Hold on,” I said. “You didn’t date because you thought your family was cursed?”
Beau shook his head, reaching up to rub his eyes. “I know it sounds ridiculous.”
“It does, but I get it,” I said. “I mean—do you have proof?”
He shrugged. “In a manner of speaking. All my grandfathers died young…lots of widows in our family. My brother was engaged ten years ago or so and she died in a freak accident—or, I guess we know it was murder now, but that’s a whole other story.
And my parents…they died in a car crash when I was fourteen.
My grandma, the one who took us in after that, she always blamed the curse. ”
I didn’t laugh. Maybe he expected me to, but I didn’t—because I understood how it could make sense to blame the supernatural when bad things happened.
That curse…it was his Shadow Painter.
“But you’re not cursed anymore?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. Guess my brother and his wife had sex in the woods and made it all better.”
Now I laughed. “Are you serious?”
Beau grinned, but there was something sheepish in it—something that made me think he wasn’t joking, or at least not entirely.
“Dead serious,” he said. “They didn’t know it at the time, obviously. Just…went out there after a big storm and, uh…did the deed. But now…he’s married, has a baby—and my second oldest brother Silas just got engaged, too.”
I blinked. “So the moral of the story is…fuck in the woods, break ancient generational curses.”
“Apparently.” He shrugged. “Can’t argue with the results.”
I shook my head, still laughing, even as something in my chest tugged hard. “You’re either messing with me or you’ve got the weirdest family on earth.”
“Why not both?”
That made me smile again. I reached for the pan and stole another bite of mac and cheese, chewing slowly.
“I don’t do this either, you know,” I said finally.
Beau raised a brow. “Eat mac and cheese naked?”
I smiled. “No. This. Sleep with a guy and stay for the post-coital confessional.”
His mouth curved. “Then why’d you stay?”
I looked up at him. “Because I wanna do it again, I guess?”
“And then?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I’ll stay a little longer after that…and we can do it again again.”
Beau’s smile lingered on me, and I promptly forgot about the mac and cheese. “I’d like that,” he said.
“You just have to promise me one thing,” I replied.
He wrapped me in his arms again, and I felt his cock already getting hard. “Anything.”
“You have to promise I’m not going to be cursed.”
I smiled, but I was a little serious…and he took it completely seriously. He nodded, kissing me slow and deep.
“I swear,” he said.
I felt it in the way he said it.
Not just a promise to keep me safe from some townie ghost curse. Not just a joke or a line to get me back in bed. He meant it—all of it, like he’d already decided I was something to protect.
Something to keep.
And that…it wasn’t something I could deal with right now.
So I kissed him, distracted him, reached down to wrap my fingers around his cock. Beau’s breath caught in his throat and he groaned, thrusting into my touch. When we broke apart, I traced the edge of his jaw with my free hand.
“Show me your bedroom?” I asked.
His eyes darkened, and he nodded once.
Then he lifted me into his arms and took me to bed.