by Tara Wyatt
She reached out a hand and curled it around his forearm, the touch soothing. “I’m sorry, Beau. That’s really hard.” She blew out a breath, shaking her head slowly, her expression soft. “Mom loves me and did the best she could, but I knew that her life would’ve been so much easier if I hadn’t come along. If she’d chosen not to have me. It sucks growing up feeling like your existence is one massive inconvenience.”
He lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It does. I hate that you grew up feeling like that, too. You deserve better than that.”
The hint of a smile pulled up the corner of her mouth. “Don’t we all?”
With everyone watching the fireworks, darkness surrounding them, it felt as though he and Piper were cocooned away from the rest of the world, sealed together by the dark and shared scars. He wondered if a part of him had always sensed that they were kindred spirits of sorts, given that he’d been drawn to her in a way that superseded looks. Maybe, deep down, he’d known that she’d understand, both why he was the way he was, and why he couldn’t be more.
In that moment, with the fireworks flickering above them, her soft brown eyes holding his, looking at him not as something broken but as something she understood, he wanted to kiss her, more than he’d ever wanted to kiss someone in his life.
But he didn’t. He laid back down on the blanket, staring up at the sky, trying to will the urge away. Given the weird tangle of feelings snarled up inside him, kissing her was probably a bad idea. This was an arrangement, one that benefitted both of them, and he’d be a damn fool to get any other ideas. Piper laid down beside him, her arm grazing his. Acting purely on instinct, he twined his fingers with hers. When she squeezed gently, something in his chest constricted.
“That’s why I don’t date much,” she said quietly, her tone faraway, almost as though she were talking to herself. “I mean, my life is really busy and full and I don’t have a lot of time, but…I don’t know. I think I hold myself back because of everything that happened. I saw firsthand how a bad relationship choice can wreck someone’s life. It’s just easier if I’m on my own.”
Beau turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I know what you mean. About it being easier to be alone.” He wasn’t ready, maybe wasn’t even able, to say more than that. But given what she’d shared with him, he owed her that much, at least.
“Is that why you…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“Yeah. Scars, baggage, whatever. I’ve got issues.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re bigger than all of that. I know I don’t know you that well, but I look at what you’ve accomplished and I think it’s pretty amazing, knowing where you came from. How did you get started playing baseball?”
He felt as though something were expanding inside his chest at words. “I stayed with Gramps every summer and he taught me the basics, but I didn’t get serious about it until Mom died and I went to live with him full-time. I had good coaches who encouraged me, and Gramps saw it as an outlet for me. An outlet I happened to be really good at. By the time I was sixteen, I was getting scouted by colleges from across the country.” He cleared his throat, his voice going a little hoarse. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t had baseball in my life. It probably saved me from a whole world of shit.”
She skated a hand up his chest, the touch both casual and scorching. “I know what you mean. About the thing you love saving you. Life was hard, and I struggled with my mental health growing up. I’d have pretty serious bouts of depression that started when I was in my teens and only got worse as I got older. Getting into fitness…it saved me. I pulled through the worst of my depression and learned how much control we have over how we feel by what we do with our bodies, how we fuel them. It gave me an outlet, something positive to focus on, and it made me feel good. I know it sounds cheesy, but it was transformative.”
“I get why it’s so important to you,” he said, placing his hand over hers where it lingered on his chest.
“And I get why baseball’s everything to you.” She sighed and then let out a soft little laugh. “Jeez, I never talk about this stuff with anyone. One pretend date and I’m spilling my guts.”
He blinked at the word pretend. He’d gotten so caught up in connecting with her that he’d forgotten that this wasn’t even a real thing. That he was paying her to be here with him, pretending to be his girlfriend.
He shot her a smile. “Me neither.”
A silence fell between them, permeated with oohs and aahhs and laughter from the people around them, the crackling pops of fireworks overhead. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, flicked back up to his eyes, and then back down to his mouth again. She licked her lips, her expression serious.
“Unless you want me to kiss you, you should probably stop looking at me like that,” he said quietly.
“Should I? Stop?” she asked, her voice barely a shaky whisper. With her hand still pressed to his chest, he wondered if she could feel how hard and fast it was pounding right then.
Lowering down, he leaned in closer, close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips. It felt as though the air were electrically charged as she lifted her hand from his chest and wrapped it around his neck. His heart kicked against his ribs, lust and adrenaline pounding through his system, heating his blood.
“We probably shouldn’t,” he whispered, his voice rough around the edges.
She licked her lips again, blinking slowly. “Probably not.” And then she lifted her head an inch off the ground and pressed a kiss to his lips. A question and an invitation, wrapped up together. He made a gruff sound in the back of his throat as she broke the brief contact.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”
He dipped his head and cut her off with a kiss, soft and gentle. She moaned quietly against his mouth, her fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. Her lips were soft and warm as they moved with his, the kiss slow and unhurried. He dropped a hand onto her hip, flexing his fingers into her.
Beau didn’t know how many women he’d kissed. He’d lost track a long time ago. What he did know was that none of them had ever felt quite like this. Like it was more than just something physical. A connection. Something soul-deep.
He slid a hand from her hip up to her ribcage, then circled his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He wanted to crawl inside this feeling, the glow of Piper’s acceptance of his scars, the connection of similar childhoods, the lust and the need. It was rare for anything to feel new for him when it came to women, but this, with Piper, it felt new. Very, very new.
The kiss spiraled on and on as he got completely caught up in the perfection of Piper’s lips against his. After a several moments of slow, sensuous kissing, he swept his tongue along her bottom lip, wanting more. Needing more. She opened for him with a soft whimper that he felt in his aching cock, the taste of wine and the strawberries she’d been eating earlier exploding across his tongue. Everything around him seemed to drop away, and in that moment, Piper was the only thing that mattered. Her taste, her scent, the slide of her tongue against his.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this painfully hard from a kiss. This swept up in a woman not because of what he wanted from her, but because of who she was. How she made him feel.
She moaned softly and deepened the kiss, her arms tightening around him. He felt as though he had fire coursing through his veins, the heat only burning hotter with every soft whimper and sigh she made, every caress of her tongue against his.
Someone let out a wolf whistle and Beau felt something bounce off of his back, an empty cup or something. He broke the kiss, grinning down at her.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip in a way that had him stifling a groan. “That, um…we…wow. I guess everyone’s really convinced we’re actually dating now, huh?” She smiled up at him, her nose wrinkling.
Her words hit him like a bucket of ic
e water, and he forced himself to keep smiling as he helped her sit up.
“I’d think so,” he managed, his cock painfully hard, his heart throbbing in his ribs. He didn’t seem to be able to catch his breath, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the kiss, or because of the panic starting to trickle through him at how vulnerable he’d just made himself. He didn’t do vulnerable. He didn’t share. He didn’t connect. He kept all that shit to himself because that was how he survived.
Needing to get back on even, familiar ground, he bumped his shoulder against hers. “I can’t believe you tricked me into making out with you in front of everyone,” he teased. “You’re a bad influence.”
She looked at him, a completely unreadable expression on her face. The light in her eyes shifted, and it was as though he could see her walls going back up. Good. Things had gotten a little too real, there. A little too close. What they were doing wasn’t about connecting. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple, and they both needed to remember that.
She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nuh uh,” she finally said after a moment. “You’re the bad influence with your M&Ms. And maybe you’re the one who tricked me into making out with you.”
“You kissed me first,” he said with a shrug.
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I admit nothing.” She tucked her knees to her chest and laid her chin on them, watching the fireworks.
Beau had the distinct impression that he’d soured the moment.
Good.
Six
Of all the things Piper Rhodes had been planning to do this week, kissing Beau Beckett hadn’t been on the list. At all. A part of her still couldn’t believe she’d been so bold as to actually kiss him, but after everything they’d shared, she’d felt close to him and had wanted that connection. She’d needed it, even.
And then that kiss. Holy. Hell. It had started out soft and sweet and then had morphed into something hotter, filled with lust and need. By the time he’d pulled away, she’d been wet and throbbing, her body primed for more. But then something had happened. His expression, so open just moments before, had shuttered, and it had been like watching someone put a mask back on. He’d distanced himself, returning to his usual flirty teasing that felt so shallow and empty compared to the conversation they’d just had.
And while she’d felt sad, she’d tried to convince herself that it was a good thing. The last thing she needed was to start catching feelings for Beau Beckett after one pretend date. Beau Beckett who didn’t do relationships and had enough baggage to fill an airliner. Beau Beckett who was most likely moving to a new city in just a few months. Hell, her job was to convince the world he was happily coupled up so that he could leave.
Still. A part of her wished she hadn’t shared so much with him. It had just felt so natural in the moment. But she needed to remember that Beau wasn’t hers in any way beyond their arrangement.
And she had to admit, their arrangement was already benefitting her, too. She stepped out of the shower, early morning sunlight filtering in through the windows, and wrapped one towel around her hair, and a second around her body. Then she padded into the studio where she kept her computer and all of her recording equipment and pulled up her digital calendar. Thanks to the money Beau had transferred her—he’d insisted on giving her the full amount up front, even though she would’ve been fine with installments of some sort—she had meetings with two different app developers this week. Things were actually moving forward, and she couldn’t have been more excited.
Views and subscribes on her YouTube channel were way up, too, and she had a feeling it was largely because of all of the pictures of her and Beau circulating online. There were several that the local media had picked up from Hunter Blake’s Fourth of July party, pictures guests had shared on Instagram. She and Beau had also taken several photos together, wearing different outfits, and were each gradually posting them to their own social media as well.
Interspersed on Beau’s feed, along with his usual baseball and workout pics, was a picture of the two of them holding hands, taken from behind as they walked through a farmer’s market. Another picture of the two of them at a restaurant, drinks in hand, his arm looped around her shoulders. Piper had posted a workout selfie of herself wearing a Dallas Longhorns cap that had gone viral, garnering tens of thousands of likes.
But the one that had gotten the most attention was one she’d staged without Beau present (although she’d gotten his blessing to post it). When it came to social media, she knew what she was doing, and she knew how to get people talking. It was a picture of her bedroom with the sun rising over Dallas that she’d captioned “Good Morning Sunshine.” But there were details in the picture—details she’d set up on purpose—that everyone had noticed. The rumpled sheets, and what was clearly a man’s T-shirt discarded on the bed. Two cups of coffee sat on the nightstand, barely visible in the edge of the picture. It was subtle, but more than enough to convince the world that she and Beau were truly a thing.
After that picture had also gone viral, he’d sent her a text, telling her she was a social media genius. She also felt like a bit of a liar, but hey. That was part of the deal she’d agreed to, wasn’t it?
The day they’d taken most of those photos was the last time she’d seen him, as he’d had a road trip, followed by the All-Star game, where he was one of the starting players. Which was fine, because she’d been busy, too, and grateful for the space after the confusion kissing him had caused.
After reviewing her calendar, she headed into her room to get dressed, then turned on the TV for some background noise as she finished making her breakfast and getting ready for the day. She had a full schedule of clients and was going to be a guest on a well-known fitness and nutrition podcast this afternoon, so she had a busy day ahead of her.
“But did you see the picture Piper posted online just before the Longhorns went out of town?” came a voice from the TV, and she found herself backtracking from the kitchen and into the living room, where the two hosts of a local morning talk show were apparently discussing her relationship with Beau. She sank down onto the couch, wanting to hear what they were saying.
“I did, and girl, let me tell you, there is no way those two aren’t getting hot and heavy.” The picture of her bedroom flashed up on the screen. “Tell me that’s not a man’s shirt right there. And look. Two coffee cups off to the side! It’s happening. Someone’s finally snagged Beau Beckett.”
“And we couldn’t be prouder that it’s one of our own local celebrities, fitness influencer Piper Rhodes. If you’re looking for fun, accessible workouts, I highly suggest you check out her YouTube channel.”
“She’s got a podcast, too, which is great. They’re half hour episodes that she posts every Monday, I think, and she interviews other people in the fitness sphere, addressing fad diets and trendy workouts while also talking about mental health and general wellbeing. They’re really informative and entertaining.”
“And I mean, look at this girl.” The picture of Piper wearing the Longhorns hat flashed up on the screen. “How cute is she? She’s only twenty-seven, and I have a feeling there are big things in store for her.”
Piper bounced in her seat, letting out a little squeal of joy. She hadn’t been hoping for or even expecting this kind of publicity, but this was so great that she almost felt bad for taking Beau’s money, given was she was getting out of their deal. Picking up her phone, she fired off a text message to Beau.
Piper: The hosts were just talking about us on Wake Up, Dallas.
Beau: Awesome. Those pictures you posted made a big impact.
Beau: Although I fear my reputation as a chaste man of virtue has been ruined.
Piper: Yes. That’s definitely what your reputation was before all of this started.
Beau: You’re such a bad influence.
Piper: Good luck with the All-Star game tomorrow. Don’t forget to eat your veggies. (And your M&Ms)
Beau: H
ey, my M&Ms have peanuts in them. Peanuts grow in the ground, which basically makes them a vegetable.
Piper: Whatever you need to tell yourself.
Beau: After the All-Star game, we’ve got a 10 day road trip, and the team’s doing a night out at a bar when we get back in town. A lot of the wives and girlfriends are coming. You in?
Piper: Sure. Just text me the details and I’ll be there.
He texted back a thumbs up emoji and she set her phone down. Then she pressed her fingers to her lips, replaying that kiss for the ten thousandth time and ignoring the warning bells that whatever this was between her and Beau could spiral out of control, if she let it.
And she wasn’t going to let it. She couldn’t.
“The Longhorns are down 2-1 to the Baltimore Orioles, bottom of the fourth,” says Wayne Hopkins. “One out, runner on third and here comes the pitch from Connor Slate. And it’s a hot shot off Slate’s leg, up the middle and it’s snared in a bare-handed grab by Beau Beckett! They’ll hold the runner at third and Beckett somehow manages to fire an absolute bullet over to first to get the runner! Longhorns get the out.”
“Holy smokes,” says Ron Whittaker. “What a play!”
The slow-motion replay begins on screen. “That pitch hit Slate right in the ankle and it ricochets at an awkward angle. But Beckett is there to make the bare-handed grab and a beautiful throw from the ground to first.”
“That’s pure athleticism right there, folks.”
“It sure is. Beckett’s having the season of his career, and it really looks like he’s going to be one of the most sought after free agents during the off season.”
“Do you think there’s any chance he’s going to stay with the Longhorns?” asks Ron.
“It’s looking doubtful at this point. He’s in contention for the AL MVP as well as a gold glove award. Teams with deep pockets and holes in their rosters are going to want to snap him up.”