Conceal

by Juliana Stone

  He jumped out of his shoes, stepped out of his jeans and then his boxers joined the pile on the floor.

  Betty slowly stood up, her eyes on his jutting erection. “You are hot, Beau Simon.” She walked over to him and stood on her tiptoes, kissing her way up his chest until she claimed his mouth once more.

  She kissed him slowly. Thoroughly. She kissed him until her head spun and her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest.

  And then she pushed him backward. “On your back, big guy. Betty wants a ride.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Betty tumbled to the carpet with him, sliding up his body until her hot, wet, center met his straining shaft. With her hands on his chest, she slowly pushed herself back, arching her hips as she used her knees to anchor herself above him.

  Her legs were open. She was open. And Beau’s eyes devoured her.

  Betty felt powerful. Feminine. And so desirable. It was a heady combination.

  “You make me crazy,” he ground out, sweat beading his forehead, his long blond hair sticking to his neck.

  “Good,” she whispered.

  And then she slowly sank onto him, sighing as his length and width filled her.

  “Jesus, Betty.”

  She smiled, moving up and down. “Jesus, has nothing to do with it, darlin’.”

  Beau’s hands were now on her hips. “True. This, right here, is all us.”

  He increased their rhythm and she let him. She let him take control.

  “I’m not going to last long,” he muttered, eyes on her as she rose and fell against him.

  “That’s fine,” she managed, leaning over and gasping as her clitoris rubbed against him. “Like you said before,” she whispered. “We’ve got all night.”

  Six Weeks Later

  Logan and Billie were married a few weeks later than planned, but that was okay. They had their family and friends gathered close, but more importantly, their son Abel was home and he was healthy and perfect.

  The wedding had been held on a beautiful September afternoon, out at Bobbi and Shane’s place in the country. Duke’s staff had catered the affair, the live band rocked, and as evening fell, the cool air was welcome.

  Trent Barker had, had a good day, though the respite worker, Joanne McBride came for him just after dinner. And Herschel had lasted until after midnight.

  The entire town, it seemed, had been invited, along with a few party crashers, but that was fine. It was New Waterford after all and a party wasn’t a party, unless it was crashed.

  Matt was here somewhere, loaded no doubt, but Betty was just happy that he’d come.

  Betty leaned into Beau, loving the way his arms slipped around her and held her close. She was leaving on Monday for LA to begin rehearsals on Deep Blue, the movie Beau had written—the movie she’d agreed to star in—and she was scared as hell.

  Already the rags were dissing her. There were headlines that said Beau Simon’s production company and the movie studio had lost their minds. That she was all wrong for the part and would fail miserably.

  So, sure she was scared, but she was also excited and she had Beau. For the first time in a long time, she finally felt as if she was going to make it.

  In spite of everything she’d ever done wrong, she would be alright.

  “Are you ready to get out of here?” Beau murmured against her ear.

  A shiver rolled over her and her stomach clenched. God, that he could do this with just a few words was insane.

  “Babe, I was ready a few hours ago.”

  He laughed, a low chuckle that fueled a hell of a lot more shivers. “Well, what are we waiting for? It’s time to get real specific again.”

  “About what?” she teased.

  “The color of your panties.”

  “Who says I’m wearing panties?”

  He groaned. “That’s not specific enough.” His fingers threaded through hers. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” she giggled. “I have to say goodbye to my sisters.”

  She was careful not to step on the hem of her ice-blue dress, as she made her way over to Bobbi and Billie. The two girls were on the far side of the dance area, near the bar and a few dozen folks gathered around. The band still played, but the crowd was starting to thin. There would definitely be a few tired and hungover souls in church tomorrow.

  Billie was still in her antique cream wedding dress, her long hair falling from the loose knot at her nape, and Bobbi was wearing the same dress as Betty.

  A bridesmaid’s dress.

  “Where’s Logan?” Betty asked.

  “He went in to check on Abel and said he needed Shane along for the ride.”

  Bobbi snorted. “They don’t fool me. I know they’re probably on the front porch smoking those stinky cigars Logan’s been stockpiling.”

  “Stockpiling?” Billie said. “Shane is the one who bought them.”

  “Whatever,” Bobbi muttered. “They stink.”

  “Well, we’re going to head out,” Betty said.

  For a moment, the three girls stared at each other in silence and then Billie moved forward and wrapped Betty in a fierce hug. “Thank you for being a part of my day.”

  Betty nodded but couldn’t say a word on account of the huge lump in her throat. She wasn’t much for public displays and was aware that more than a few pairs of eyes were on them.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Bobbi said, incredulously.

  The look in her sister’s eyes was enough to make her stomach contract hard, and Betty knew exactly who it was before she even turned around.

  “I’m getting Shane and Logan. I want him out of here,” Billie said fiercely.

  Mick Valenti stood in the shadows near the pergola out back, dressed casually and chatting with a few guys from town. They were late arrivals, but Mick wasn’t invited and had obviously crashed.

  Betty’s chest tightened and that cold, hard feeling she’d buried weeks ago was back with a vengeance.

  Mick glanced over, raised his beer as if in a toast, and took a good long drink, his eyes never leaving her. It was a big, fat fuck you and it made Betty sick.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” Beau said fiercely.

  She wasn’t paying attention or she might have said something, because Beau’s voice had gone cold. It had gone cold and lethal.

  “Mick,” she said softly. “I…let’s just leave.”

  But Beau was striding across the dance floor, shoving people out of his way and not caring that he nearly trampled an older gentleman who’d had too much to drink and was having a hard time staying on his feet.

  He didn’t stop until his fist smashed into Mick’s face and he sent the man tumbling to the ground.

  “Oh, God,” Betty said as she started forward, Bobbi on her heels.

  Her heart was in her throat and at first, she had a difficult time breaking through the crowd that had gathered.

  “Beau,” she screamed. Her voice was the trigger and the crowd parted like the red sea.

  “Shit,” she said hoarsely.

  Mick was on the ground, cursing like a trucker, his nose obviously broke.

  “What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll sue your ass.”

  He tried to stand but Beau smashed his fist into Mick’s face again. Betty started to run over, but Matt grabbed her just in time, holding her close and whispering fiercely into her ear.

  “Let him, Betty. Just let him have at it.”

  Beau grabbed Mick’s shirt and smacked him once more, his face set in stone, the look in his eyes dangerous.

  He dropped him and stood over him, chest heaving as he wiped blood from his hands. “If you come within 100 feet of her again, I will make sure that you end up in the hospital. If she even smells you, you’re done.” He leaned down. “And if you so much as think about her, I’ll hurt you. You got that?”

  Beau turned around and headed for her, his eyes on no one but Betty.

  In that moment, she knew that he knew what h
ad happened to her.

  He grabbed her close and hugged her, kissing the top of her head.

  “Thanks,” Matt said roughly. “Thanks for doing what I didn’t have enough strength to do because I knew I would have killed him and she needed me. She needed someone.”

  Betty spied Logan and Shane along with her sisters and the few dozen partiers gathered around. It was too much.

  “Can we go?” she said into Beau’s neck.

  “Damn right we can.”

  Beau grabbed her hand and they marched through the crowd, not stopping until they were inside his black SUV.

  She was shaking and he helped her with the seatbelt and then slid behind the wheel. The motor roared to life but for a moment, he stared straight ahead, his chest still heaving, his hands so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white.

  “How did you know?” she asked carefully.

  Beau reached over, his hand on her neck, his thumb running over the three tears inked into her skin. Three tears that were there to make her remember, to make her stronger. “Does it matter?” He turned to her and the love that sat in his eyes took her breath away.

  “No,” she replied. It didn’t matter at all.

  They’d been together for weeks and every single day, there was something about this man that called to her. Some new facet that told her he was the one. There would never be another man for her.

  Betty Jo Barker could live to be three hundred years old and Beau Simon would always be the love of her life. She thought that maybe it was time he knew it.

  Carefully she unbuckled her seatbelt.

  “What are you doing?”

  And moved toward him.

  “Betty, let’s just get out of here.”

  “In a minute.”

  “Careful, I’ve got blood on my clothes.”

  She was pressed into him. “I don’t care.”

  Betty slipped her hands into his hair and pulled him to her. She kissed the corner of his mouth and then brushed a feather light kiss across him lips.

  “I have something to tell you,” she whispered.

  “Can’t it wait? The loft is fifteen minutes away.”

  “No.”

  She stared up at him. “I love you, Beau Simon.”

  A heartbeat passed.

  And then another.

  “I know,” he replied.

  “Okay.” She smiled, a tremulous, smile. “Good.”

  Betty kissed him on the nose and settled herself back into her seat. Her body was calm and this time she had no problem buckling herself in.

  She glanced at him and winked. “Now take me back to the loft and we’ll get real specific about the state of my panties.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice.

  Beau hit the accelerator and seconds later, his red taillights disappeared into the darkness.

  Mick Valenti was escorted off the premises by Matt Hawkins and Shane Gallagher, and not much later, Logan and Billie finally said goodnight to their guests.

  It had been a long day. A good day. A day for celebration and family.

  A day that would be on the lips of many of the residents of New Waterford in the coming weeks. Wasn’t everyday that someone like Beau Simon gave a beating to one of their own. But it was Beau Simon, he was one of the good guys, and most folks thought that surely Mick had it coming.

  Things would quiet down as they always did, until the next Barker dust-up occurred. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Hell, they expected it.

  And they were right.

  The End

  Author’s note

  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about the Barker Triplets. I’ve had an absolute blast spending time with these girls. In answer to answer to a lot of emails I’ve received, the names Bobbi Jo, Billie Jo and Betty Jo are in honor of my real-life cousins. ☺

  I plan on visiting the town of New Waterford in the near future and I hope you’ll be along for the ride! In the meantime, please stay tuned for the first novel in a new series revolving around, those damn Southern Kennedys’, Beau Simon’s colorful family. Watch for TUCKER, coming fall of 2013!

  I love hearing from my readers, you can email me at Juliana@julianastone.com or visit my website, www.julianastone.com for book updates, news, and exclusive excerpts! You can also fine me on Twitter and Facebook.

  Available Titles

  The Barker Triplets

  Offside, Book 1

  Collide, Book 2

  Conceal, Book 3

  Beautifully Damaged Series, New Adult

  The Stillness of You, writing as Julie Bale

  The Family Simon Series

  Tucker, Book 1, Coming Fall 2013

  Bonus excerpt!

  Please read on for an exclusive look from the first book in my hot new series for Sourcebooks, The Bad Boys of Crystal Lake….

  Molly O’Keefe, author of Can’t Buy Me Love, says, “Everything I love in a book: A hot and tender romance and a bad-boy hero to die for!”

  PUBLISHER’S WEEKLY names, The Summer He Came Home as one of their top ten picks of Spring 2013 and gives it a STARRED review saying, “In this captivating and hopeful yarn, readers will eagerly turn the pages of this well-wrought and satisfying romance.”

  Booklist says, “The start to Stone’s new series is realistic and edgy, with a largeworld perspective as well as warm characters and an appealing small-town feeling. And bad-boy Cain will appeal to new and veteran romance readers, including those who enjoy novels by Cathie Linz and Susan Elizabeth Phillips.”

  Sometimes the best place to find love is right back where you started…

  Falling asleep in a different bed every night has made it easy for Cain Black to forget his past. It’s been ten years since he packed his guitar and left Crystal Lake to chase his dreams. Now tragedy has forced him home again. And though Cain relishes the freedom of the road, one stolen moment with Maggie O’Rourke makes him wonder if he’s missing out on something bigger than fame.

  For Maggie—single mother and newly settled in Crystal Lake—love is a luxury she just can’t afford. Sure, she appreciates the tall, dark and handsome looks of prodigal son Cain Black. But how long can she expect the notorious hellion to stay?

  The last thing either of them wants is something complicated. But sometimes love has its own plans.

  The Summer He Came Home

  Juliana Stone

  Sourcebooks Casablanca

  DUSK FELL, BRINGING with it the sharp dampness of a Michigan June night. Cain was drunk. Hell, the three of them were a sorry-ass bunch. They’d sat on the beach for hours, drinking beer until there was none left. Then they’d moved on to the hard stuff, sharing a bottle of vodka as they talked crap, caught up, and reminisced about every detail of Jesse’s life.

  The men had kept in touch after they went their separate ways, but as was the way of it, time expanded and filled with other things. Phone calls and emails became less frequent, and Cain couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual conversation with his friends.

  Mac had moved to New York after graduating from Michigan State and was now an architect on the fast track to partner at a prestigious firm. The twins had joined the armed forces straight out of college and were never in the United States for long—military leave didn’t allow it. When they had the good fortune to come home, they’d spent their time in Crystal Lake. Jesse of course had had a wife waiting for him, and Jake had never been far from either one of them.

  Cain glanced at his friend and frowned. Jake was in a place of transition. The loss of his brother had hit him in a way that left scars beneath his skin. There was a darkness inside him that didn’t belong. He’d always been the easygoing twin—the light to Jesse’s intense, moody personality.

  It was all wrong.

  “So, Mr. Guitar God of the Year,” Jake slurred.

  “Yeah.” Cain grinned. He couldn’t help it. “Pretty damn cool.” The latest issue of Guitar World had featured Cain and a host of up-a
nd-comers, though he’d snagged the all-important cover and had been humbled when Springsteen sent him a note. Apparently the man liked his playing and songwriting skills.

  “I want my copy autographed,” Mac joked. “You should send one to your ex. Let her know what she’s missing.”

  Cain’s lip curled. “Natasha only cares about herself. Trust me, she’s moved on.”

  Jake punched him in the arm. “Natasha fucking Simmons. How in the hell did a redneck from Michigan end up with a Hollywood hottie like that?”

  “Don’t ask.” Cain was tight-lipped. His ex-wife was not someone he cared to discuss. He took a second to gain his balance and grimaced. “Boys, we need food.”

  “I second that. Liquid lunch is fine, but it only goes so far.” Mac nodded toward the house. “Let’s go.”

  There were a few lingering guests, his mother among them. Lauren Black was a tall, attractive woman who took great pride in her appearance. Her hair hung past her shoulders, a silken sheet of gold. Her figure, enviable by women half her age, was shown to perfection in the classic cut of the simple black dress she wore. At her ears were small pearls, and at her neck, the matching pendant.

  She’d come a long way, his mother, and pride rolled through him as he studied her. She’d grown up with nothing and hailed from the wrong side of the tracks. But she was made of good stuff—her roots were humble and strong. They were the kind of roots that went deep and she’d kept the both of them anchored. He might have been poor for most of his youth, but he’d never known it.

  She was chatting with Raine Edwards—Jesse’s young widow. The petite woman looked gaunt, her features pinched and her skin much too pale against the ebony hair that fell past her shoulders.