The first thing Betty had done when she’d gotten home was wash her face and she knew the yellowing bruise on her jaw was no longer covered by makeup.
“It’s nothing,” she said.
“Nothing?” Bobbi leaned over the table. “Did someone hit you?”
As soon as the words left Bobbi’s mouth her sister’s eyes widened and she sank back into the chair, shaking her head. “No. God, Betty! Please tell me that Dad didn’t…that he didn’t do that.”
Betty glanced back out over the front lawn, hating the way her heart squeezed so tightly that it made it difficult to breathe.
She shrugged and said nothing, the muscles across her shoulders so tense it hurt.
“Betty?”
She shook her head and remained silent. If Bobbi made a move to hug her or something, there was the distinct possibility that she would lose her shit.
That tight knot inside her had been getting bigger and bigger since Sunday, and like the bastard that it was, she knew it would explode when it wasn’t convenient. And it was never convenient for Betty to lose control.
“I’m sorry,” Bobbi said on a whisper.
“Whatever. Let’s not get dramatic about it, alright? He had a bad spell. It happened. It’s over.”
Betty finished her water bottle and tossed it onto the floor beside her. It rolled several times and then disappeared over the side right into the boxwood. The boxwood that needed to be trimmed. Her eyes rested on the hanging baskets Gramps had brought home several weeks ago. They all needed to be deadheaded and probably watered.
When the hell had Betty become Miss Domestic?
A plane flew overhead, it’s lonely drone echoing as a plume of white danced across the blue sky. It drew Betty’s eye and she watched it for a few seconds, wondering where it was going. Wondering who was lucky enough to be jetting off somewhere different than the place they’d been in.
“So, um, Billie says she’s called a few times.”
No shit. Betty had been hitting ignore on her cell phone for two days.
Betty ran her fingers across her forehead. “Seriously, Bobbi? I don’t want to do this now.”
“You can at least call her back.”
“I will.”
“When?”
Irritated, she glanced at her sister. “What’s it to you?”
Bobbi tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and smoothed out the front of her pale blue summer dress.
“Well, maybe she’s got something important to talk to you about.”
Betty sat up. “This about Dad?”
“No,” Bobbi said. “Although that’s something we need to discuss sooner than later.”
“Then what? Is Billie taking a poll on names for the baby? ‘Cause guess what? I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
“Nice, Bets.”
“I’m just saying. Billie and her domestic bliss isn’t real high on my list of priorities these days. In fact, it’s pretty near the bottom.”
She didn’t have to look in Bobbi’s direction to feel her sister’s frown.
“They’ve decided not to wait,” Bobbi said quietly. “They’re getting married next month. Labor Day weekend. Before the baby comes.”
“And?” Betty stood, no longer relaxed or even close to being comfortable. She was strung tighter than a bow and though it was hot as hell, she thought that maybe a run would loosen her up.
“And you’re her sister. She wants you in the wedding party.”
“You have got to be kidding.” Betty shook her head. “Is she smoking crack?”
“That’s an awful thing to say.” Bobbi was up on her feet now. “What the hell is your problem with Billie? Can’t you put aside whatever it is just this once? For her wedding?”
“No.” Betty’s heart rate shot up and so did her voice. “No. I will not stand up for Logan and Betty. I can’t do it.” She exhaled and looked away from her sister. “I just can’t.”
She knew she sounded like a crazy person but Betty didn’t give a crap. She wasn’t about to explain things to Bobbi. Not now. Probably not ever.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” Betty managed to say.
“Well, that’s a fucking relief.” Bobbi was pissed. She only swore when she was pissed.
Bobbi walked to the end of the porch and stood there for a few seconds. “I feel as if this family is falling apart and I don’t know what to do. Dad’s sick. Gramps is getting older.” She whirled around. “All we have is us, Betty. Don’t you get that? This thing with Billie is stupid. You need to get over it.”
“It’s not stupid.”
It’s tragic. The thought slipped into her mind and she swallowed hard as that damn knot pressed in tighter. Jesus, at this rate she was going to die of asphyxiation before dinner.
Bobbi squared her shoulders, the look on her face thunderous. “What the hell happened to you? When did you become this awful, selfish bitch?”
Betty counted to ten. She concentrated on breathing in and out, schooling her features into a mask of nothing. She would not lose her shit in front of Bobbi because if she cracked, Betty had a feeling no one would ever be able to put her back together again. Bobbi shook her head. “I’m trying to understand but I don’t. When you came home last fall, I thought you would be gone in a few days. It’s kinda what you’ve been doing for the last few years. And when you didn’t leave right away, I was happy. Happy because you didn’t. Billie was home. You were home. It felt like my family was back together again.”
Betty glanced away. She couldn’t take the hard, intense look in her sister’s eyes.
“I figured out pretty quick that you only stuck around because you had nowhere else to go. No money. No friends. But you had us, Betty. You had your family and still….” Bobbi swore and rubbed her arms as if she was cold. “Why can’t you be happy?”
Because I’m broken.
“You don’t really want to know.”
“Yeah,” Bobbi said sharply. “I do. I want to know why you push everyone away. Why you threw away a career that a lot of girls can only dream of. God, you had everything Betty and now…”
“Now I’ve got a fat lip and a bruised jaw. So what’s your point?”
“My point is that you’re falling, Betty. You’re falling and I’m not sure how far down you’re going to go. My point is that you scare me. My point is that I’m sad for you.”
Crack.
She felt it, deep inside.
“Don’t ever be sad for me,” Betty whispered hoarsely. “Just don’t. I don’t need or want your pity.”
Betty felt her bottom lip tremble but she dug in and pushed aside the knot in her chest. She pushed and pushed until she was able to look at her sister and be cool as a cucumber.
“Are you done?” she asked abruptly.
“No,” Bobbi retorted.
“Are you done for today?”
Bobbi shook her head and sighed as she tossed the script back onto the table. “What am I supposed to tell Billie?”
Betty scooped the papers into her hands and grabbed the door handle. She paused for a second. Waited until she knew she’d be able to speak calmly. She pushed the door open.
“Tell them to elope.”
Chapter Twelve
“WHAT THE HELL is up with you?” Tucker’s voice sounded flat in the quiet morning.
Beau leaned back in the boat and glanced out to where the sky met the lake. It was barely 5 a.m. and they’d been out fishing for the better part of an hour. It was just breaking dawn, that sweet spot between night and day, and Beau was exactly where he wanted to be. He knew he was.
He’d been looking forward to kicking back with Tucker up here on Lake Muskoka for weeks.
So why the hell didn’t he feel it? Why wasn’t he awash in a baptism of peace and quiet and tranquility?
Did he even have to ask the question?
It was that damn Betty Jo Barker. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—about the night they’d been together—about what an abs
olute asshole he’d been.
He was a man who’d been around the block a time or two. Hell, he’d had more candy thrown at him than he could ever taste and yet that one night had never left him. It had been a crazy, intense night of hot, raw, sex, and then Bentley had shown up and everything had gone to shit.
The even crazier thing was that it wasn’t the sex that stirred him. It was the look in her eyes when she’d realized that he had meant to prove something to Bentley.
Beau had crossed a line and she had paid the price. And for just one moment her soul had been bared to him. He’d seen it. He knew it existed. But back then, he was convinced she was a no talent fuck up who had decided she could open her legs to just about anyone and get a part in a movie.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
He thought of the bruise on her jaw and the fragility he’d glimpsed in her eyes a few days ago and damned if Beau didn’t want to do something to wipe it away. To ease the loneliness he sensed inside her.
Tucker waited for an answer that Beau wasn’t willing to give.
Mostly because he wasn’t exactly sure what to say.
“Fine then,” Tucker said grumpily. “But just so you know? Those women last night were primed and ready, brother. Primed and ready.”
Beau let his line fly out over the water and grinned. It was good to see Tucker socializing. Getting past all that darkness from last year.
The two boys had spent the evening in the small town of Bala, at a little hole in the wall pub where Beau managed to pass the evening in peace. There were no autograph requests, no photo ops or people staring. There’d just been him, his brother and a jug of beer.
And two chesty blondes.
Two chesty blondes that the Simon boys left behind.
“Especially the one with the big…smile,” Tucker said as he cast his line.
“Two words, brother. Lane Summers.”
Tucker made a face. “Seriously? Lane Summers? Come on, Beau. I know she’s hot and all but man, she’s not exactly…how can I say this without insulting you.” Tucker’s dark eyes flashed as he shook his head. “Hell there is no way to say this without insulting you. That woman is dumber than a doorknob.”
“Yeah, well, she’s easy to be around.”
“That’s because there’s no work involved. Where’s the fun in that? Hell, Marley and I used to…”
And just like that the ease of their morning slipped away.
The smile on Tucker’s face faded as he sat back in the boat and stared out over the water. The small rolling waves lapped across the hull as the boat gently rocked.
“We used to butt heads a lot,” Tucker murmured.
Beau watched his brother closely, wishing he could erase the last couple of years.
Marley Easton and Tucker Simon had met in college. She’d been into marine biology and Tucker had just been killing time, majoring in business studies. She’d been small, dark, with an easy smile and cute dimples. The kind of girl that brought out the protective urge in any man, but the kind of girl who had real strength.
Tucker had fallen hard and the two of them had become engaged right after graduation. They’d been married almost immediately—even though both Marley’s parents and the Simons thought they should wait. But Tucker had always been pigheaded and for the next few years things had been great.
Marley had accepted a job at Sea World in Orlando, not too far from the Simon family compound, and Tucker had joined an elite sports agency. In only a few years he had managed to sign several big time ball players, including a few hockey superstars. He was savvy, smart, and totally in love with his wife.
But then one hot summer night, Marley had chartered a small plane along with a colleague, their intent to fly out to a small island in the gulf where several Pilot whales had reportedly beached themselves. It was a routine sort of thing, but the plane had disappeared and Tucker’s life had pretty much fallen apart.
“I don’t think the fish are biting,” Tucker mumbled.
Tucker was dark, where Beau was light, though they both shared their mother’s intense blue eyes. At the moment, Tucker’s thick black hair hung past his shoulders, his jaw shadowed with several days worth of stubble. Tall, he was about the same height as Beau—a few inches over six feet—and like all the Simon men, athletic in build with a lean body, and defined muscles.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Beau said suddenly, feeling a spark shoot through him as his thoughts began to whirl.
“Huh?” Tucker glanced his way. “Go, where? We’ve got the cottage to ourselves ‘til Jack shows up.”
Beau began to reel in his line. “I told you about that charity ball tournament I agreed to appear in, right?”
Tucker nodded. “That’s not ‘til Saturday.”
“Yeah,” Beau answered. “But there’s this kick-off barbecue thing tomorrow night. I wasn’t planning on going…” He shrugged. “Might be fun. It’s a small town. Kind of reminds me of St. Vincent’s. Why don’t you come with me? Play in the tournament?”
“Why you so riled up to get back to this town?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was because my heart is full of charity?”
“Hell no. I’d say there’s a woman involved and I’d also hazard a guess that it sure as hell ain’t Lane Summers. Actually, I’d hazard a guess that the female in question is Betty Jo Barker, and we both know that’s not a good idea.”
Beau tossed his rod into the boat and started packing up his tackle. “Why are you so hell bent on disliking Barker?”
“Cute. You guys trading nicknames now?”
Beau closed his tackle box and shrugged. “Seriously. You don’t even know her.”
“No,” Tucker said. “I’ve never met her in person. And I know that half of that shit they play on TMZ and print in those rags isn’t true. But I also know that where there’s smoke there’s always a spark. She’s a mess, Beau. Bad news.”
“She’s not a mess.” The words slipped out before he even thought them and Tucker paused, falling back onto his seat near the bow.
“She’s not a mess,” Beau repeated. “She’s human. She’s made mistakes. We all have.”
He blew out a long breath and glanced away, confused by the way he felt. He wasn’t on a mission to save, Betty. Not really. But he sure as hell wanted to help her. He owed it to her for what he’d done.
That’s all this was. Nothing more.
So why did he feel as if he was on the cusp of something much larger? Beau Simon was thirty-three years old and he’d never been in this place before. A place where a woman he barely knew had somehow become part of his everyday thought process. She’d been the last thing on his mind when he’d gone to bed the night before—alone—and the first thing he’d thought of when he’d woken up this morning. He’d sported a raging hard-on, a bad attitude, and a headful of images of Betty. Naked. Twisted beneath him.
If he was going to work with her, Beau was going to have to get this shit under control. All those fantasies—those memories—of her long legs, that hair, that mouth and the way they’d rocked into each other as if the world was ending. That passion wasn’t for him to examine or remember.
It was in the past and for this movie to work—for him to get her on board and make it work—that’s where all of that stuff had to stay.
“Okay.” Tucker was pulling up the anchor. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Beau whipped his head around, a grin on his face. “Yeah? You coming to New Waterford with me?”
“Sure. Someone’s got to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
A frown crossed Beau’s face. “Really. And what would that be?” He might be willing to give Tucker a bit of leeway most days—hell, the guy had had his heart ripped out, but there was only so far Beau was willing to let him go when it came to his personal life.
Tucker chuckled and suddenly the darkness in his eyes evaporated, if only a little. “I’ll let you know when I figure
it out, brother.
* * *
The Simon boys packed up and were ready to hit the road in less than two hours. Sylvia, the local lady who looked after their cottage, came in as they were leaving, with groceries and cleaning supplies. Jack and his girl were due up in a few days and she came weekly with the staples.
She wished them a safe trip and then they were off.
It was a perfect day to be out on a bike. The wind was non-existent, the sun warm and the open road incredibly appealing. Beau opened his throttle and it didn’t take long for him to disappear into his bike.
He had to give it to Forest. The guy had built him something special. It was all shiny chrome and black leather—understated and not too flashy—with an engine that growled and a ride that gripped the road.
The sound was like an electric pulse that beat inside him, and around 90 miles an hour, the scenery became nothing but moving flashes of color. It was quiet and loud at the same time. Peaceful but exhilarating.
It was hard to describe, and only another biking enthusiast would understand. By the time they reached the outskirts of New Waterford, the sun was high in the sky and it was early afternoon.
Beau and Tucker rolled down Main Street in a leisurely fashion, while overhead banners waved in the breeze, announcing the Celebrity Ball tournament. A group of girls near the Dairy Queen turned and watched as they sped by, a few of them thrusting their hips out and waving provocatively.
Beau grinned and nodded as he motioned to Tucker to turn into The Grill. He’d called Logan Forest before they had left the Muskokas, just to make sure he could stay in the loft, and Forest had told him he’d be at The Grill right about now for a nice, cold beer.
The brothers parked their bikes near the outdoor patio and Beau stripped off his long sleeved shirt, garnering a whistle from the waitress working outside. Beau and Tucker both turned around and the woman’s mouth hung wide open.
“Hey, darlin’, you make sure to order us up a jug of cold draft, will ya?” Beau said warmly.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head and she began to nod as her face flushed a deep shade of red. “Yes, sir. I mean, sure…are you…are you sitting in my section? Good lord are you sitting in my section?” That ended on a squeak and Tucker rolled his shoulders, his white T-shirt damp, as he grinned at Beau and then back at the woman. She was on the plus side of forty, but definitely looked after herself.
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