“I couldn’t care less about my reputation. I just want her safe.”
She bowed her head as I said the words. “We all do. That’s why I think it’s important that you and Mr. Reede get back to seeing eye to eye. It’s not going to help anyone if he keeps looking in your direction, or if you’re not on the same page.”
“I know, sweetness, I know.”
Her hands rested on her hips as she eyed me. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“First, I’m gonna check on Cass, make sure she’s gonna be okay if I’m not here to take her to the hospital. Then if you’re happy to take me with ya, I’ll go back to North Carolina to talk to Phoebe’s daddy.” If she’d been following the gossip, she’d know I left my car in North Carolina, and I figured that was the reason behind her bravin’ the drive to Georgia.
“I think that’s the best course of action.”
“I have a question that you didn’t answer before. Does Phoebe’s daddy know where you are?”
She nodded. “At least, he knew where I was going.”
“Keep in contact with him. Let him know you’re safe, and we’ll be headin’ back tomorrow.”
“Can we stay one more day? I want to go visit some of the places I went to with Phoebe, and I want to arrange a couple of things away from Mr. Reede.”
“I don’t think an extra day will hurt.”
She gave me a smile before moving to my side and rubbin’ my arm. “Thank you, Beau.”
AFTER I FINISHED my afternoon breakfast, I started cleanin’ up the mess I’d left durin’ my li’l bender. Angel was right there too, helpin’ me out.
“Ya didn’t have to do this.” I indicated the room she’d helped tidy. It’d taken the better part of the afternoon to get it all cleaned up, but I felt better for the place not bein’ in a messed-up state no more.
“I don’t mind. It gives me something to do. I’ve been going crazy at Phoebe’s place. There’s nothing to do, everything reminds me that she’s missing, and Mr. Reede gets stressed if I’m gone for more than half an hour.”
“Phoebe would hate this,” I said, spinnin’ to sit on the sofa.
Angel slotted herself in beside me. “You’re right. She’d be bitching at us for not living, for not doing more.”
“But there ain’t livin’ without her light.”
Angel sighed. “Tell me about it. Since she moved over here, it’s been so tough for us both. We used to barely go two or three nights without talking. She’s more than just my best friend. She’s kinda my soul mate.” She chuckled and buried her face in her hands. “That probably sounds really silly, especially to you.”
She twisted her body into mine and pressed her face against my shoulder, trappin’ her hands between us. Her hair spilled over my shoulder and tickled my arm. One thing I was fast learnin’ about Angel was that she was a touchy-feely person. So many of the little things I’d witnessed with her and Phoebe made sense with that knowledge. When they’d been at the Lake Retreat together, I’d been captivated by the pair. I’d spent more time than I cared to admit watchin’ the two of them laughin’ and playin’ as they spent Angel’s vacation together.
At the time, I wasn’t even with Phoebe—in fact, part of me was still convinced she’d cheated on me—but that didn’t stop fantasies of interjectin’ myself between the two of them springin’ into my mind. Of joinin’ in some of their games and seein’ where things went.
There was no way I could admit to some of the more carnal thoughts that’d crossed my mind when I’d watched their playful interactions. The two of them were beautiful women, and they were even more stunnin’ together. Especially when Angel was snappin’ photos of Phoebe at the end of the pier and twistin’ her into different poses.
“That don’t sound silly at all,” I said.
Angel pulled away and offered me a smile.
The way she had rubbed against my arm left the hair around her face a little crazy. I smoothed it down as I said, “Fact, after seein’ the two of you together, I think I understand more’n anyone else might.”
She met my eyes for a moment, the emerald in hers sparklin’ like a gem, and then she laughed. “I think that’s about as much seriousness as I can take for today. Can we just, like, watch a movie or something? Take our minds off it all for a while.”
“Sure.” I didn’t think a movie would be enough to take my mind off anythin’, but that didn’t stop me from pretendin’ for her sake. “Pick somethin’ ya wanna watch. I’ll go get some food from the restaurant.”
I pushed myself up off the sofa.
“Oh, can I have some s’mores? They were goddamned delicious.”
“Sure thing.”
While she started playin’ with the TV, I headed down to the restaurant kitchen to procure some supplies. When I arrived, Mitch was in the middle of preparin’ for the dinner rush.
“Hey.” He stopped what he was doin’ in order to greet me with a half hug. “How are ya holdin’ up?”
I shrugged, unable to articulate the storm inside. “Well enough, all things considered.”
“Still nothin’?”
My mouth was set into a frown as I shook my head. “Not that anyone will tell me.”
“She’ll—”
“Don’t say it. I know ya mean well, and I appreciate that, but I can’t hear that she’ll be okay, or that she’ll be home soon, or any variation of that no more. Till there’s somethin’ real, somethin’ that makes that true, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“I understand. How can I help?”
“I’m lookin’ for dinner for two and some stuff to make some s’mores.”
“Dinner for two? But isn’t Cass stayin’ down with Joe?”
The fact he didn’t know about Angel came as somethin’ of a shock. Rumors usually spread around the place as fast as anythin’. Especially in winter when there were fewer guests and more free time. It musta been Joe who let Angel in, and he mustn’t’ve spoken with Mitch yet. It wasn’t worth my time to stress over though. “Phoebe’s friend Angel is back here for a few nights. She’s stayin’ with me. We’re gonna drive back up to North Carolina on Friday.”
“Oh. Okay. How’s she handlin’ it all? They seemed pretty . . . close when they were here.”
It shouldn’t’ve surprised me that I wasn’t the only one who’d observed their closeness. Still, I couldn’t lie to Mitch, so I just said, “About as well as I am.”
He nodded. “I got pulled pork sandwiches with fries as the house special tonight, or you can grab somethin’ off the menu.”
“Whatever’s quickest. I don’t want no big fuss.”
“Gimme five.” He started to buzz ’round the kitchen. Even though Joe and I would often tease Mitch, his passion in the kitchen was unbeaten. Most days, he opened and closed the kitchen on his own. Usually, he only had his sous chef, Kirsty, and maybe one other in the kitchen if it was incredibly busy. He preferred to be alone when things were quiet.
While he prepared the meals, I grabbed the bits and pieces I’d need to make a few s’mores for Angel and me later on. Once I’d finished, I sat and waited. Noticin’ he had my attention, Mitch launched into a few bits and pieces of information that had happened in the last few days. He lit up with excitement while he talked about some of the promotional menus he’d come up with.
When the opportunity had come up to buy the place and renovate it to be the resort it was today, I’d jumped at the chance, but I’d known it would be impossible to do alone. Not from a money standpoint, but because for a good ten months of the year, I was away more than I was there. I owned the majority of the resort, but givin’ Mitch and Joe a decent share each meant they were invested in makin’ it thrive. Any profit was for their benefit as much as mine.
When the meals were done, he slipped them onto a tray with two local beers.
“The flavor in that beer goes with that meal better’n anythin’ else.” He winked to let me know that he knew Angel was underage, but he wouldn’
t say anythin’ if I didn’t. It wasn’t like he was servin’ it to anyone in the restaurant. It was in the privacy of my own home, and if anyone asked they mighta both been for me.
“Thanks, Mitch. I’ll come see ya ag’in before I go.”
“You’ll come see me when you want more food.”
I chuckled. “That too.”
I threw the s’mores ingredients on the tray, carefully balancing it all the way back to my house where I kicked at the door. Angel appeared a little less than a minute later.
“I was going to say I wasn’t really hungry. But that smells fantastic. Too good to pass up.”
I grinned. “Mitch is the best chef. Well, you tasted his treats last time you were here.”
“I did. And his treats were pretty damn fantastic.”
I opened both the bottles of beer and offered her one.
She quirked one brow at me as she took the bottle. “You know I’m underage here, right?”
“It’s one beer. It ain’t in the restaurant. I’ll close mah eyes as ya drink it if ya like.”
“Here Phoebe thought you were a stickler for the rules after you berated her for drinking at the first meet and greet she went to.”
Her words proved just how much they shared. I eyed the ingredients to the s’mores still sittin’ on the tray. Did Angel know about the night Phoebe and I shared her first s’mores? I shifted positions as the memory of that night played at the edges of my mind. It felt wrong to be fantasizin’ about Phoebe when she was missin’, but I wanted her back—mind, body, and soul.
“You know there isn’t much I don’t know,” Angel said, followin’ the direction of my gaze. “She told me about her first experience with s’mores over hot chocolates at the airport before we flew home.”
I cleared my throat and took a long sip of the beer.
“Relax, it’s not like I’m going to do anything with the information. She knows just as many of my secrets, so it’s dangerous to play the game of let’s share with anyone else.”
“What secrets does she know that rival the s’mores?”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Howdy Doody?” She grabbed a fry. “Are we gonna watch this movie or not?”
“Sure.”
She turned on the movie and we both ate in silence for a while, each pretendin’ to be engrossed. Before long, we’d discarded our used dishes onto the coffee table and we were sittin’ at opposite ends of the sofa.
As the movie progressed—followin’ the formula of a typical romantic comedy—Angel shifted to be more comfortable until her head relaxed against the armrest and her legs in my lap.
Halfway through the movie, when the couple looked like they were gonna be parted forever over the misunderstandin’s, I heard Angel snifflin’.
“Are ya okay?”
“Huh?” She sniffled again and wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Of course. I’m just a big sap when it comes to these things. Usually Phoebe scoffs at it and makes me see how ridiculous it all is.”
“I kinda thought Phoebe was a bit of a hopeless romantic.”
Angel laughed. “Phoebe is a realist. She doesn’t believe in the giddy, forget-everything-else, rush-halfway-round-the-world-to-be-with-the-one-you-want kind of love.”
It seemed a bit of a contradiction considerin’ what she’d done.
“Don’t get me wrong, she believes in love. A big and forever kind of love. She has to. She’s seen it with her parents. But she’s pragmatic. If I hadn’t suggested she come over here . . . I don’t think she would have.” She disintegrated into tears at the end of her sentence.
“Come here, sweetness,” I said, pushin’ her legs off my lap so she could swing around. Her head came to rest in my lap a few seconds later. I brushed my fingers through the hair on the side of her face, runnin’ a smooth trail behind her ear. “Her disappearin’ ain’t your fault. Her bein’ here shoulda been the best thing that happened to her. I promise ya if—when we find her, I’ll make up for every scrape, scratch, and bruise her heart endured at my hand.”
“And that’s the sort of love Phoebe knows. She trusts big love with everyday proof. Just not over-the-top romantic gestures. She rolls her eyes at half of these movies and makes me see the nonsense in them too.”
I glanced down at her face, her gaze steadfastly stuck on the TV in front of her. “You don’t think it’s nonsense though, do ya, sweetness?”
Her mouth twisted, as if she was tryin’ ta hide a smile. “Am I that transparent?”
“Nah. Not completely. I just—” I was tryin’ to think of the best way to explain my observation. “It’s like ya said about feelin’ like Phoebe is your soul mate. I think you’re right. I think she’s the yin to your yang.”
Angel chuckled. “The vegemite to my toast.”
“She’s as much a part of you as you are of her. It’s strikin’ sometimes how similar y’all are, even with your differences.”
She twisted in my lap so that she was lookin’ up at me. “It’s the same with you. When she first told me about you, I thought it was just some fun flirtation and a bit of a good night out. Then when I found out that you punched her v-card for her, well, I knew it had to be something more. We both were waiting for something more before giving that up. But then I watched the way she was when she spoke about you. The excitement that coursed through her when we did the photo shoot on her bike for you. She loves you so much. It was clear even then.”
I swallowed and glanced back at the movie still playin’ in the background.
“But you’re the same as her in so many ways,” she continued. “Like the way you’ve tried to mother hen me like she does.”
“I ain’t tryin’ ta mother hen ya.”
She laughed. “You are.”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“This here is a perfect example. Making sure I’m fed. That I’m happy. Putting aside the things you would probably rather be doing, just so you can watch a sappy rom com with me. You need to make sure everyone is looked after. That’s a very Phoebe thing to do.”
“It ain’t a bad thing is it?”
“Of course not. Just make sure that no one takes advantage of you for it.”
“Are you gonna take advantage of me?” I teased.
For a moment her eyes locked with mine and her lips parted, but then she shook herself out of whatever thought she’d had. She leapt up from my lap and clapped her hands. “I think it’s time for some s’mores.”
“Wait here.” I took the ingredients outside, needin’ some space from the strange atmosphere inside. I coulda made the s’mores inside, but nothin’ tasted as nice as properly toasted marshmallows.
While I was stokin’ up the fire, Angel appeared in the doorway. With the light reflectin’ from the little strands of hair disturbed by the way she’d rested, she looked like she wore a halo. It was fittin’ in some ways—she’d saved me from dwellin’ on the things I’d lost and had given me a distraction from the heartache of losin’ Phoebe.
“Do you have a computer?”
“Sure. I’ve got a laptop in the study. Second door down the hall. Why?”
She leaned against the doorway. “I was thinking of Skyping home. If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Would ya like some privacy? You can take it into your bedroom if ya do.”
Her hand rubbed against her opposite bicep. “I was wondering if you could join me. There’s someone I want you to speak to.”
I was certain my face showed my confusion, but I nodded. “I’ll finish up out here if ya wanna get it set up.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She disappeared into the house, and I was left confused about who she could possibly want me to speak to.
ANGEL MET ME at the door and took the plate of constructed s’mores off me. She dropped the plate on the kitchen counter and led me to the sofa where my laptop was set up on the coffee table.
The screen was on and there was a Skype window open. The angle of the screen made it hard to
see who was on the other end, and that just confused me more. I couldn’t figure out who it was Angel mighta been tryin’ ta get me to speak to. It seemed unlikely she’d make good on her promise to show me a photo of Max with a live video considerin’ the choice things I’d want to say to him.
When I was standin’ in front of the sofa, she reached for my shoulders and dragged me into a sittin’ position.
Before Angel even said a word, I saw who her contact was. It was someone I’d never spoken with before. Someone who made my heart ache all over again for the one missin’ from my life. And not anyone I’d expected to talk to anytime soon
“Beau, meet Alyssa Reede, Phoebe’s mum. Mrs. R., this is Beau. Will you both please be nice. And Mrs R., please listen to his side of this.” Angel retreated to the kitchen door, givin’ me some privacy.
I twisted to cast a glare at her. She spun back around, no doubt at the silence, and gave me a sly smile. The cunnin’ li’l fox. Phoebe had said somethin’ about Angel bein’ a meddlin’ influence, but I’d never understood it until that moment.
She’d lulled me into a false sense of security and then set me up for a fall.
And I’d accused Phoebe of bein’ the devil in disguise durin’ her first visit to the States. Her particular blend of temptation and womanly wiles were sweet and heavenly compared to the impish heart beatin’ inside Angel’s chest—the one makin’ mischief and intervenin’ where she didn’t belong.
Still, when I turned my gaze back to Phoebe’s mama, who bore so many features in common with the one I loved—everythin’ except her eyes—I felt compelled to talk. Even if I wasn’t in the most presentable state. My usual look ranged from clean-shaven to a slight stubble that seemed to drive the female fans—and therefore the sponsors—crazy. Now the hair on my chin was beyond scruffy and borderin’ toward an actual beard. It wasn’t how I woulda wanted to meet Phoebe’s mama.
“Howdy, ma’am.”
For a moment, her eyes closed, blockin’ me from readin’ her emotions. When she opened them again, there was a set to her features that told me I’d be needin’ to work to earn her trust. I wished I’d asked Phoebe what it was exactly her mama did. She’d looked warm and invitin’ in the moments she’d watched Angel leave, but now she had the steely glare of a police officer or courtroom attorney.
Beastly (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #3) Page 18