Whiskey Sharp: Torn

by Lauren Dane

  Cora snickered. “I’m actually good at poker. But I’m terrible at hiding my disdain for ugly furniture apparently.”

  “Works for me if it saves me from wasting my cash.”

  “Somehow I doubt you doing anything you don’t want to do, even if it was you wanting to buy a chair that looks like it’s made of vomit.”

  The salesperson who’d been shadowing them to keep near Beau gasped and it made Cora laugh. It wasn’t like she was insulting the guy’s mother. Or even the store or the other furniture.

  “Oh, and it’s not weird. I think it’s sexy that you’re excited by what you might learn about me from the art I already own. I, to be honest, am far more excited to see what you decide to show me once I’ve moved in.”

  “I should tell you I’m rather aggressive about my opinions regarding what I like personally. But once I know what your artistic tastes are, I can tailor what to show you. It’s one of my favorite things about my job.” She loved her repeat clients. That relationship once she got to know what would fit them was fascinating. She learned new things about art every single day from how people received it. What they yearned for. What surprised them in good and bad ways. It gave challenge to all her preconceived notions and biases. That’s what kept her mind open to far more than things that appealed to her personally.

  An open mind and an open heart were things she felt were integral to being not only a better person, but better at all aspects of running the gallery.

  Beau brushed a kiss against her forehead before moving on to a different couch. “What do you think about the stuff I’ve bought so far? Not the art, but the stuff for the house?” Beau asked her directly.

  “I brought you here because I’ve found their work to be consistently good. The quality is always high. Lots of unique pieces as well, which I thought would appeal to you.”

  He straightened, examining her closely before smiling a little. “Yeah, you do see through right to the heart of me, huh?”

  He was too compelling not to want to know him deeper. Beau wasn’t taciturn like Alexsei could be, but Beau’s silences were as complex as what he said aloud. There was, at times, a churning undercurrent of yearning that seemed to roll from him. It brought out the protectiveness in her.

  “I think you have excellent taste.” He did. Another attractive thing about him. Everything he’d chosen thus far—except for the chair—had been what she thought was a perfect choice for the feel of the house and what he seemed to want.

  “I understand that for the compliment it is,” he said.

  A few hours later, as they lay in bed catching some postorgasm breath Cora traced her fingers over his elephant tattoo.

  “Why an elephant? Any significance, or did you just like the design?”

  “Elephants are badass. They’re smart and tough. They’ll defend their family to the death. Did you know that?” he asked.

  “I didn’t.”

  “They’re all about family and connection. And since I was sort of let down by that as a kid, I’ve decided that I won’t let anyone else down that same way. The people you love should come first in your life.”

  She kissed his chest, over his heart. Touched that he’d share.

  “I was on a shoot in Thailand and ended up at an elephant rescue sanctuary one morning. It changed me. These animals are massive but with their caretakers, the small humans who saved them from a life of cruelty, they were gentle and even a little protective. The old lady of the herd, the matriarch, is sort of the keeper of the memory. She’ll watch over the babies. Anyway, I’ve been supporting that rescue for years along with a few others I’ve found since.”

  “That’s awesome. Perhaps at some point we can visit the sanctuary or something. I loved Thailand.” It occurred to her then that he’d probably be a fantastic travel partner. Open and curious. Interested in things. Easygoing. All things that made the frustrations that came with travel a lot easier to get through.

  Plus he looked so good it would make her day every time she caught a glance and remembered he was with her.

  He slid his fingers through hers, tangling hands. “Yes. I’d like that. I go surfing every other year down there and it gives me a chance to visit, as well.”

  “I won’t be surfing. But I’m really good at sitting under an umbrella, drinking a beer and watching other people surf.”

  “Does that include having a cold one waiting when I finished up?” he teased.

  “Heck yes. And sex. Though that would have to wait until after we left whatever public place we were in.”

  He laughed. “Why? I bet you could be very creative when it came to fitting in a round of rousing sexy times in some dimly lit corner.”

  “People take pictures of you. You’re not just a pretty surfing tourist. You’re Beau Petty. And so some video of you giving me the business would end up online and everyone would savage my thighs,” Cora said.

  Already a photo of the two of them standing outside Luna, Cora looking up into his face, a smitten smile on her lips, had made the rounds at the gossip sites. He hadn’t been bothered by it really, but it was clear he’d been concerned about how she’d react.

  It made her nervous, because she liked her life private. But she liked being with Beau and Beau was famous and getting attention on gossip sites came with the territory, even if it was uncomfortable at times.

  “I’m sorry about that, you know. I wish I could protect you from it.”

  He’d been really upset on her behalf, worried over her safety. Cora didn’t want him beating himself up over something that simply came with his job.

  “You can only control how you react to what other people do. You’re pretty. You cook in people’s homes and so they want to know you and whoever you’re with. It’s weird, but it comes with you and I like you enough to deal with the rest.”

  “Lucky me,” he murmured against her hair. He wasn’t joking at all and warmth filled Cora’s belly.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “WHAT IF SHE acts like a bitch?” Cora asked Rachel, who despite being woken up from a nap was delivering the pep talk she so desperately needed.

  They were set to leave for dinner at her parents’ house shortly and nervousness edged along Cora’s spine.

  “She’s going to act like a bitch, honey. It’s what she does. Beau is a big boy and he seems to really like you a lot. He’s going to figure out what she is soon enough if he hasn’t already. She might even be calmer because there’ll be a crowd there,” Rachel said.

  Cora sighed. “I’m dumb for calling. Of course she won’t be held back by the setting. You’ve met my mother, right? Okay, okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m all right. He’ll be fine and if it isn’t good we’ll leave.”

  She realized just how much she meant that right after saying it. One of their friends had been married for nearly a decade to a person who never defended her to the family. Never stepped in on her side. As a result, his parents had disrespected her so much there wasn’t anything he could do to fix it as far as the marriage had been concerned.

  Some damage could never be repaired.

  Cora valued and respected Beau too much to allow her family to treat him poorly or make him feel uncomfortable.

  And the bald truth was that she didn’t want to lose him. Didn’t want him scared off. If things ended between them, it wouldn’t be because of some bullshit from her family.

  “Things will be okay. She’ll push. He’s all charming and mannerly but not prone to letting himself be pushed. Stand your ground. Let her get used to it. She loves you and in the end, that’s why everything will be fine. You can do this.”

  “You’re my favorite,” Cora told Rachel. “I’ll talk to you when I get home so I can update you.”

  “You better. Remember that you’re worth this effort. Okay? Not just the moving to a new job but this thing with Beau. A
nd being treated the way you deserve. Don’t get me all het up on your behalf or Vic will frown at me and probably call his mother,” Rachel warned in a teasing tone.

  “Did she help?” Beau asked as Cora came out into the kitchen.

  “She did. Maybe would have tutted and worried and made me anxious for her. But Rachel is no-nonsense. I needed that today.”

  “Stop worrying. I promise I’m pretty good around parents. I just think of them how I’d think of a network executive.”

  That made Cora guffaw. “Network executives are probably easier to please. But my dad will be there and my siblings and some cousins too. I think it’ll be so busy and full of people that she won’t have the opportunity to be her normal self. But I have no doubt you’re good with the ladies. I’ve seen it over and over.”

  Generally she found it more amusing than annoying, which was likely a good thing as she imagined it wasn’t something that was going to go away anytime soon. Part of his image was that sexy charm. It worked on him and for him.

  Rachel had been right. Beau was a grown-up and capable of handling himself. Cora would keep a close eye on the situation and, if necessary, extricate him from anything unpleasant.

  “I know you’re busy inside your head trying to figure out how to make this perfect,” Beau said as they drove east. It amused him, yes. But mostly he was touched. Touched that she spent the energy worrying.

  “I...can’t deny that I want today to be a good day. Not perfect. Perfection is impossible unless we’re talking about your shoulders. Because well, they’re perfection. Otherwise, dealing with family is always far from perfect. My mom is a grab bag. You never quite know what you’re going to get. She’s not malicious, but she has her own way of seeing the world. A type of focus that makes her so successful at her work. But she’s used to having her own way. Used to seeing herself as the center of all things.”

  He heard more self-consciousness in her tone when it came to her mother than anything else. He understood that down to his bones.

  “As you can guess, my father had quite the personality. Magnetic. He’s a leader in that very intense way only someone who leads a cult can be.” He paused, realizing it was one of the first times he’d voluntarily used the term cult. “I’m used to being around people with very large and complicated personalities. Your mom is an artist. I’m an artist in a sense. And we both care about you. So. We’ll muddle through.”

  She was quiet awhile as they drove, crossing the I-90 bridge and heading into Bellevue.

  “Okay,” she told him as they exited the freeway. “I’ll do my best to keep her in line. But if she says or does something offensive and I’m not around, get my attention and I’ll handle it.”

  He scoffed. “Nope. Look, you can’t be my keeper too. I have to find my own way with them or they won’t take me seriously. I want them to take me seriously.”

  “Why shouldn’t they take you seriously? If they don’t, they’re assholes. You don’t need to work so hard to receive basic respect when they’ve invited you into their home.”

  She was so outraged by the very idea that his own nervousness fled. He reached out to take her hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m handsome and charming and I make a good living. Most mothers love me,” he teased.

  Her reluctant smile made him glad.

  “This is...your father’s work, I suppose?” he asked as they pulled up a long road to the house. Gardens, greenery, all sorts of sweet spots with benches or water features, stretched as far as he could see.

  “Yes. He likes to say this is his canvas. It changes from time to time. He putters and updates. Sometimes he does a sweeping redesign when the mood strikes. It’s nice to come home to,” Cora told him as she parked the car beside several others already there. “At the holidays I mean.”

  “I grew up living in a series of trailers and barely standing rental houses. This is pretty swank.”

  She paused as they headed up to the wide, inviting front porch. “It is. I’m sorry. Sometimes I do take it for granted. I appreciate what I have, and I work hard. But yeah, it’s pretty swank and it was where I grew up so it seems normal to me.”

  Beau put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side so he could kiss the top of her head. “I wasn’t chiding you. Just admiring the property.”

  “Okay. I just want to be sure. You ready?” she asked before opening the front door.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Beau wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the warm and nonfussy interior of the house. It smelled good, like a family dinner should smell. Bread and simmering meat, something rich and spicy seemed to embrace them as they entered a large family room.

  A chorus of calls sounded as people began to notice their arrival. Beau recognized her brother and sister in a knot of what was most likely cousins. A pang hit, longing for those cousins who’d been close as siblings until he’d left and was excommunicated.

  Cora brightened at his side but instead of moving away on her own, she took his hand and tugged gently. “Come meet my family.”

  It was a maelstrom of noise. Of names and hands to shake. A few hugs and no small amount of curious looks. Her father came out from the kitchen, shaking his hand and clapping his upper arm.

  “Welcome. Would you like something to drink?” he asked Beau with a smile and Beau understood why he and Walda clicked. John Silvera was charming. And the source of that same crinkly-eyed smile his youngest daughter wore on a regular basis.

  “Yes, thanks.” Together with Cora, they went into the kitchen. She grabbed him a soda, even pouring it over ice for him. He thanked her before taking a sip. “I don’t know if Cora has told you or not, but I just bought a house in Magnolia. It’s on just shy an acre and I’d love it if you could come out and give me an estimate on some landscape upgrades.”

  Her dad’s face brightened, and then he began to pepper Beau with questions. Cora leaned against Beau’s side as they spoke, chiming in here and there with ideas or suggestions.

  He sensed her mother approaching and knew Cora and her father did too by the way their body language changed. But the smile John sent his wife was so full of love and recognition Beau couldn’t help but like them both better.

  “Hello, Mom.” Cora turned to hug her mother and kiss one of her cheeks. “Pai and Beau are talking about gardens and I’m trying to figure out a way to steal some of that ham over there while he’s engaged elsewhere.”

  Walda’s expression was full of affection. “I’ll get his attention so you can commit your theft.” She winked at Cora, who grinned.

  Walda gave Beau a once-over, and then smiled. Granting him some sort of acceptance, though it wasn’t all the way through. She still had doubts and Beau could see it at the edges. He wasn’t offended. Cora was special and he understood they wanted to protect her. He might have some colorful moments in his past, but he hadn’t hid anything, most certainly not his feelings about Cora.

  Her uncle came in to grab a beer, and then got into a very passionate discussion with Beau about dry rubs versus brines. Children came through, grabbing things to drink or snacks and before long, they were carrying bowls, plates and trays of food out to the massive table where everyone but the kids—who had their own table—got seated.

  Her father said grace over the meal and like a switch had been flipped, the food began to make a slow circuit around as people began to pile their plates high.

  “Will you be doing another series, Beau?” Beto asked.

  “I hope so. I’m heading to New York early next month to meet with the network people so I can pitch my new idea,” Beau told them.

  “I find it interesting that when Cora decides to stop traveling with me, you come into her life and travel all the time,” Walda said. “My daughter should wait around for you while you fly all over,
surrounded by beautiful women who will tell you whatever you want to hear?”

  “Mom, what the heck? That’s out of line,” Cora said, and Beau heard the disappointment there.

  “It’s all right,” Beau told her before turning his attention to Walda. “The filming will be done here, in the house I just bought, so I’m fortunate I won’t have to travel for work that often. I’m also fortunate Cora loves to travel for pleasure as much as I do, so we’re hoping to get out there in the world within the next year.”

  He wanted to keep underlining to her that he wasn’t going to get drawn into her games.

  “That is fortunate,” John said. “Tell us about what sort of theme, if you can.”

  * * *

  BEAU DESCRIBED HIS show idea to her family, who, other than her mother, were interested and engaged, talking about their own lives and projects. Getting to know Beau because they could see he was different.

  Walda was working Cora’s last nerve though. Picking and sighing, giving looks down her nose and just being a dick.

  Cora had to admit Beau was really good at handling her mother by redirecting her. Not letting her needle him. But it needled Cora. Big-time.

  Which her mother doubtless knew.

  Still, her father and siblings were being very sweet and helping keep Walda in line even as they nosily collected data about Beau. And he remained adorable and sexy as he dealt with it. Perhaps he was imagining her mother to be one of his crazed fans.

  She snickered and Beau turned to her, a questioning look on his face. “I amused myself. Sorry,” she told him.

  “There’s a story I’m very sure.”

  “There are millions of stories, Beau,” she said in a mock serious tone.

  “Damn, I am hurtling toward falling into all kinds of love with you,” he murmured before brushing a kiss against her temple.

  Touched and thrilled, she leaned into his touch, wanting him to know she was right there with him.

  After dinner, Cora and her generation of cousins cleaned the kitchen and after portioning out leftovers, they put everything away and headed down into the basement, where her family had gathered.