Believing Bailey
Page 23
“Well, this is it,” Bailey announced, heaving out a breath as she looked out the front window as well.
“Holy shit,” I murmured, my shock instant
Dusk had fallen but I could still see enough to know she hadn’t been lying when she’d said our two homesteads resembled each other. Both were two-story farm-style houses, but my parents’ was white, whereas her dad’s house was light blue. They both sat atop an incline and seemed to be surrounded by barren fields, laying fallow and waiting for a spring harvest. But Bailey’s family had built a heck of a lot more outbuildings than mine, plus they appeared to have more heavy equipment machinery and what looked like a horse barn to the right.
Next to me, Bailey read my mind. “Freaky, isn’t it?”
I nodded mutely.
When a yellow lab lazily trotted out to greet us, I blinked against the déjà vu. “Freaky’s certainly one way to put it.”
I pushed open the door so I could go meet her dog. He looked old and incapable of jumping any longer, so I knelt down before him and let him sniff my face as I rubbed his ears. “Hey there, big guy. Aren’t you a sweetheart? It’s Humphrey, right?” I asked, glancing toward Bailey when she stepped from the car and moved around to kneel next to us.
But I didn’t need to wait for her nod of confirmation. The lab’s tail began to thump heartily and his entire backend shook back and forth at the mention of his name. I laughed and moved my face away when he tried to lick his way into my mouth and nostrils.
Yeah, he was definitely Humphrey.
“Okay, quit hogging my damn dog,” Bailey finally said, moving right up against my shoulder as if she was going to ram me aside so she could shower her pet with attention. But then she only grinned and sent me a wink.
Finally noticing her, the lab swung his big head her way, slinging drool over the both of us so he could let her scratch him too.
Crying out our dismay, we both wiped the gross off our faces before we shared a grimace of disgust, only to burst out laughing as we compared who had the most drool dripping from our fingers.
“Is that you, brat?” a voice called from the front porch of the house before footsteps sounded on the steps.
Bailey groaned and pushed to her feet, scrubbing her palms clean on the hips of her jeans as she did. I was slower to rise, following the same procedure with my own hands.
The guy strolling toward us was lean and tall and seemed to be in his early to mid-twenties. His hair was dark, but his grin was pure Bailey.
“We didn’t know if you were going to make it in tonight or tomorrow morn…”
He slowed to a stop when he caught sight of me. For a second, he stared blankly before pointing. “Where the hell did you come from?” He glanced at Bailey. “Who is this guy? Did he come with you?”
I turned to her, my stomach sinking fast. I started to shake my head, denying it, but no, she wouldn’t bring me home to her family without warning them who I was, without even telling them she was brining anyone with her. Would she?
She glanced at me, shrugging. “Hell, no. He didn’t come with me. I thought he was one of your friends.”
My mouth fell open as the man I guessed was her brother spun to me more alertly.
For a good two seconds, I froze, not sure if I should run before this fellow tried to kick my ass for trespassing or if I should try to explain I really had gotten here via Bailey. It was kind of hard to decide which of the two would land me less dead.
But then Bailey nudged my elbow with her own and snickered. “I’m just kidding. Yes, he came with me. This is Beckett.” Then she pointed to the other guy, telling me, “And this loser is unfortunately my brother, Booth.”
Booth eyed me up and down before he glanced at Bailey and scoffed, “Thought you said you were never going to date a guy whose name started with B.”
“Yeah, except I’m not dating him,” Bailey argued. Not that her brother was paying her attention anymore; he’d paused to pet the dog and coo lovingly at Humphrey. “And—” Suddenly, she whirled to me. “Holy shit. Your name does start with a B.”
“Right,” I said slowly. “We’ve already had this conversation.”
Booth began to chant in a sing-song voice to the dog about two bees sitting in a tree.
“Yeah, but…” Bailey started only to transfer a scowl at her brother and kick him in the knee. “I said we’re not dating, you ass clown. He’s just—” She didn’t have an immediate answer, so both Booth and I eyed her curiously, waiting for her to label me.
I certainly wasn’t going to help her explain my presence. I was still too put out she hadn’t given anyone prior warning about my party-crashing.
“He’s currently family-less,” she started slowly, “and didn’t have anywhere else to go for Thanksgiving. That’s why he’s here with me.”
Booth lifted his eyebrows as if he didn’t buy that, but then he shrugged and pushed to his feet so he could fling out his arm and give me friendly backhand me in the stomach. “Well, since you’re here, not dating her and all, you can help carry all her shit inside so I don’t have to.” Then he turned away to amble back toward the house, humming the K-I-S-S-I-N-G song under his breath.
“I only have one overnight bag, jackass,” Bailey called moodily after him.
“Well, you usually have an entire trunkful,” Booth shot back over his shoulder without even slowing.
“That’s because I usually stay for a heck of a lot longer than one night.” Then she made a face and sniffed when her brother’s response was the shutting of the front door as he entered the house, completely ignoring her. “He’s such an idiot.” Muttering, she turned to me. “I really don’t pack too much on my trips home.”
I grinned, flattered she even cared what I thought. Then I lifted my hands. “No worries. That was honestly the last thing I would’ve believed about you, anyway.”
Seemingly mollified, Bailey grinned back to me before moving toward the trunk where our two bags had been stored.
I followed her, remembering a much more important matter. “So, you didn’t tell your dad I was coming with you?” I asked, dogging her heels.
She frowned over her shoulder at me. “Of course I did.”
“Your brother certainly seemed surprised by me.”
With a snort, she popped the lid on the trunk. “Yeah, but he’s my brother, not my dad. Trust me, I told my dad.”
“But did you tell him who I am?” I pressed, not realizing she’d grabbed our two bags together until she’d simultaneously swung the straps for them over her shoulder. At her apartment, she’d carried them both down to the car before I’d been aware what she was doing too. But I wasn’t about to let her carry them now.
“Give me those,” I demanded, reaching out.
The damn girl dodged around me and hurried toward the house, one shoulder loaded down with a good twenty pounds. “You’re one big bruise, Bucket. You’re not carrying shit.”
Grinding my teeth, I started after her, determined to at least retrieve my own bag. “Dammit, Bailey.”
The front door came open again, and a new silhouette filled the entrance. I skidded to a halt, nearly swallowing my tongue. I could tell this man was older and fuller and yet shorter than Booth. Ergo, it was probably her dad.
Great. The first impression Bailey’s father received of me was of Bailey carrying my things and me cursing at her.
I was fucked.
“Bailey?” his voice called. “Booth said you were home and…” His voice trailed off when he saw me over her shoulder. “Is that your friend?” He sounded incredulous as he swerved back to her. “I thought…well, I assumed you’d be bringing a female when you said friend.”
My heart sank, and anxiety rose. Bailey hadn’t told him anything about me.
Holy shit, what were they going to do when they found out I was the great rapist of Granton University? For the briefest moment, I wanted to wring Bailey’s pretty, little neck.
And what was worse, she didn’t se
em concerned at all as she stepped into the house and plopped both bags heavily onto the floor by her feet. “Well, that’s what you get for assuming.”
Her dad glanced at both bags, frowned, and then turned to me, seeing my arms were free and that I’d just made his daughter carry my things.
Face flaming hot with embarrassment, I opened my mouth to say something, but hell, my mind was totally blank of excuses.
Turned out, I didn’t need to worry about explaining myself. Bailey’s dad took one look at my face and said, “Jesus. What the hell happened to you, kid?”
And now I knew where Bailey had gotten her tact.
“About a couple dozen different fists,” Bailey answered for me. “Over the course of a week. We’ll tell you all about it over supper.”
Oh, so she was planning on tell him the truth, then? That was relieving to learn, and yet still concerning. What if he didn’t believe her defense of me? What if he didn’t find me innocent? What if—
“What’s for supper, anyway? I’m starving.”
“Chili,” her dad answered her as he continued to suspiciously eye me up and down. “We can settle him into Blaine’s room, I suppose. I did have a mattress laid on the floor of yours, but that was before I knew she was a he.”
Bailey merely shrugged. “Whatever. As long as he has a place to sleep, he’ll be fine.” Then she crinkled her nose. “But where’s Blaine? Is he not going to be home for Thanksgiving?”
“Nope.” Her dad turned away and picked up both her bag and mine before trudging up the stairs and leaving us to follow. I almost wanted to fling my hands in the air over the hopelessness of it and then shout that I was fully capable of carrying my own damn bag. “He’s gone to spend the holiday with his girlfriend at her family’s place up in Plainville.”
“Wait.” Bailey jerked to a stop so fast in front of me I nearly ran into her. “Blaine has a girlfriend?”
“Yep.” Her dad sounded placid about it. “It’s pretty serious too. He’s planning on moving in with her this weekend.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Bailey breathed.
Her father kept his same monotone voice and steady pace as he repeated, “Yep. And watch your language, little lady.”
Bailey glanced back at me, her eyes widening over this new development with her brother, but then she turned back and hurried after her dad. “Is she nice? She’s not a bitch, is she? You know, there’s room for only one bitchy chick in this family, and that’s me.”
“She seems sweet enough,” he answered on a shrug. “And don’t call yourself bitchy. You’re high-spirited, impulsive and bluntly honest, but not bitchy.”
Bailey gave her own shrug as if it were all the same difference to her.
Her dad dropped her bag off first, and I barely got a peek into her childhood bedroom before they were moving on to the next door down the hall. I followed everyone into what I guessed was Blaine’s room—the walls covered with cowboy motif and swimsuit-model posters—just in time to catch sight of her dad setting my luggage onto an unmade bed.
“Sheets were washed last week so they’re somewhat clean,” he informed me.
I nodded, and murmured, “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
I wanted to apologize for surprising him with my maleness, but then…there were more surprises in store for him about me, and those would probably require much more groveling than a mere gender misunderstanding. I might need to store up all my sorrys for then.
My voice seemed to startle him. It made me realize this was the first time I’d actually spoken since meeting him.
He nodded before his gaze wandered curiously over the bruises on my face. “I didn’t catch your name, son.”
“Oh! Sorry. I’m Beck.” I held out my hand to him without thinking, but a split second before he took my fingers, I remembered I still had traces of Humphrey’s doggy drool all over my palm. I was about to retreat when Bailey’s dad shook with me.
“Ben Prescott,” he greeted. “Welcome to our home.”
I wasn’t too sure if he’d share that sentiment when he learned who I really was. More guilt piled onto my shoulders. Here I was, invading his home under a layer of deceit and I’d just shook his hand with dirty fingers. Feeling like a complete shit stain, I glanced uneasily toward Bailey.
She seemed blissfully unaware of my dilemma. “So, the chili’s ready to eat now, right?” she pressed, rubbing her stomach. “Because I’m starving.”
Her dad laughed and ruffled her hair. “Yeah, soup’s on as soon as you’re ready. I’ll let you two wash off your travel dust, and we’ll meet you in the kitchen. I like the new hair, by the way. It’s a hell of a lot better than that peacock look you had before.”
As he started away, she scowled after him. “It was a rainbow, not a peacock, and I liked the rainbow.”
“Then why didn’t you keep it?” he shot back.
She didn’t answer, only frowned as we listened to footsteps on the stairs.
Once I was sure he was out of earshot, I pinned her with a stare and hissed, “You didn’t tell him who I was.”
She only grinned back at me, a grin that shot through my bloodstream and make me ache with the need to kiss her. “Relax, Hilliard.” She bucked my arm. “And just trust me, will you? I’ve got this.”
Then she reached up and patted my cheek. The sensation of her soft fingers against my skin must’ve dulled my head, because I settled immediately and forgot to keep arguing.
Her words hadn’t quelled the worry in me, but her smile did remind me of one thing. I did trust her, more than anyone else in the world. Maybe she really did have this.
Chapter 27
BAILEY
“Oh, God, this is so good.” My eyes nearly rolled up into my head as I moaned.
But seriously, no one made chili like my dad. Perfect amount of spice, and meat, and beans. He was a master. Setting my hand over my stomach, I sat back in my chair and grinned at Beck who was sitting across from me, taking his first spoonful. When his eyebrows lifted as if surprised—pleasantly surprised—by the flavor, I grinned. He began to smile back when Booth, sitting next to him, glanced between us.
“Thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“Booth,” Dad said in a warning voice.
“What?” My brother shrugged, looking confused. “It was an honest question. I mean, they were sitting there, making babies with their eyes like they—ouch!” He glared at me as the toe of my shoe made direct contact with his shin under the table.
“We’re not dating,” I bit out.
“Okay, geez,” he mumbled before sniffing a scowl toward Beck as if his sore leg was all Beck’s fault. “It was just a question.”
“A stupid question,” I mumbled, only for Dad to censor me with a measured look.
I was tempted to kick Booth again. It just wasn’t fair that out of all four of my brothers, he was the only one around tonight. I knew Brock and Braiden didn’t live here anymore and Blaine was apparently moving out, but why did it have to be the most annoying brother to stay behind?
“Who the heck is this girl Blaine’s dating, anyway?” I demanded, probably startling the three males at the table with what seemed to them like an out-of-the-blue thought.
“Some girl from Plainville,” Dad explained. “Name’s Melody. Like I said, she’s a pleasant girl. Pretty, too.”
“Way too hot for an asshat like Blaine,” Booth agreed.
I began to nod and ask how they’d met when I noticed Beck’s sudden paleness. I blinked, wondering what was wrong, until it struck me.
Melody.
Oh, shit. No. Please, no.
My eyes grew wide as I turned abruptly to my dad. “Did you say Melody? Melody what?”
“Uh…” He glanced toward the ceiling. “McDaniel maybe? Or possibly McDonald. Something like that.”
“McDougal,” Booth supplied dryly.
I glanced between the two. “Are you sure?” I demanded. Were they positive it wasn’t actually
Fairfield? “Her last name’s McDougal? It’s definitely McDougal?”
“Yeah.” Booth glanced at me as if I’d lost my mind. “It’s McDougal. Why?”
He turned questionably to Beck at the same moment I did. Beck’s shoulders released tension and slowly fell as relief stole through him. I could practically feel the air return to his lungs. His gaze met mine, and I knew we shared the same thought.
Thank God, it was a different Melody.
“No reason,” I answered, taking a huge, deliberate taste of chili. “So, how’d they meet?”
“She was visiting one of her cousins around here and met up with Blaine at the bar, I believe,” Dad answered. “It’s too bad she doesn’t live any closer. If they’d at least stayed around the area and not gone all the way off to Plainville, Blaine could’ve at least continued to work for me. Now I’m going to have to find a new hand to hire.”
My back straightened. “Hire a new hand?”
He gave a worn-out sigh as he nodded. “I’m going to have a hell of a time, too. Not a lot of people have farming experience these days.”
“Hire Beck!” I blurted without thinking my words through. I just knew he needed work and my dad needed a new employee. It made perfect sense in my head.
But the other three people at the table gaped at me as if I’d lost my mind.
I flushed, hoping Beck wouldn’t care that I’d spoken for him. But he needed this. And I knew my dad would be a good, decent boss, who’d probably give him room and board too.
“He was a frat boy, sure,” I started on his behalf, growing more excited about the idea the longer I thought it through. “But he grew up on a farm. I’m sure he’d catch on quick.”
I met Beck’s gaze across the table and nodded encouragingly. He merely blinked back. I swallowed, saying nothing as he darted a glance between me and my dad.
“But I thought…” My dad shifted his gaze from Beck to me. “Well, I guess I made another assumption that you and Beck went to school together. Doesn’t he have to return to Granton for classes?” His eyebrows drew together suspiciously. “How exactly do you two know each other if you didn’t meet at college?”