by Penny Reid
Therefore, taking us all to a warehouse in Maryville (with a solemn promise that we could leave after a half hour), Cletus had his show.
“I’m going to murder Cletus,” Jethro had said, just moments after leaving the warehouse. He looked exhausted. And frazzled. And irritated.
I lifted an eyebrow at my oldest brother and rolled my lips between my teeth so I wouldn’t bust out laughing.
“I’m right behind you.” Billy said this while he picked silly string from his shirt and dusted glitter from his pants.
Drew was also picking silly string off his shirt, but had wisely decided to stay quiet.
“I’ll help you murder Cletus,” Billy grumbled, “if you can find him.”
Duane and I shared a look. We both had to drop our eyes to the ground to keep from laughing.
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Roscoe shrugged. “So what? It was a male stripper.”
“I’ve got nothing against a male stripper, Roscoe. But I didn’t want a stripper to begin with, and I definitely didn’t want an eighty-five-year-old stripper named George.”
“You forget that he’s a retired Navy SEAL. And he rappelled from the ceiling like a badass.” Roscoe’s eyes brightened with amusement, but he kept his face straight otherwise.
“I did not forget either of those facts.” Jethro’s voice was deadpan as he glared at Roscoe.
“Come on now, Jethro.” I shoved his shoulder. “You’re just sore ’cause he put you in a headlock.”
“With his legs,” Drew added good-naturedly.
Duane looked at me again, and then cast his eyes to the ground once more. But his shaking shoulders gave him away.
“I’m leaving.” Jethro threw his hands in the air and stalked toward his car. “I need four showers and a bath.”
We all laughed then—Drew, Roscoe, Duane, and I. Even Billy cracked a smile.
Despite being exhausted, and despite seeing what my testicles might become in another sixty years, I decided it had been a good day.
Nevertheless, something was missing.
Which was why, after dropping my brothers off at the house, I couldn’t sleep. Deciding not to fight against the urge, I dressed quickly and drove to Shelly’s.
And so here I was, taking off my shoes in her living room and stripping down to my boxers. I hadn’t thought to bring pajamas and I didn’t want to rifle through the bag I still had in her room.
Walking as quietly as I could, I slipped into her room. Something in me settled at the sight of her—an enigmatic wildness, a hunger.
Appeased, I climbed into bed and smoothed my hand from her shoulder down the length of her arm, to tangle our fingers together.
“Beau,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
“Shelly.”
“Take off your boxers.”
I smirked. “How do you know I’m wearing boxers?”
“You always wear clothes to bed, and then I always have to take them off. Just . . . sleep naked.” She said this last part around a yawn, turning and taking my hand with her.
“I need my hand to remove my boxers.”
“Fine,” she groaned. “Then you have to give it back.”
Shaking my head at a sleepy Shelly, I quickly divested myself of my boxers and slid back in bed, being the big spoon to her smaller one.
Though I loved holding her, I wished she was facing me. She was so lovely when she slept, this woman of mine. Maybe it made me a creeper, but I wanted a picture of her sleeping.
But I also wanted a picture of her scowling, smiling, laughing, and staring daggers at me. I wanted a picture of all her faces, just as she was now, so I could remember how I fell in love with the spectrum of that face, and the complex woman behind it.
* * *
I woke up to light touches—fingers moving through my hair and lips moving over my face—and I smiled.
“Good morning, Beau.”
My smile grew. “Good morning, Shelly.”
“Why do you have glitter in your hair?”
I frowned, because I didn’t know. But then I remembered and groaned. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do want to know. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
Opening one eye, I spotted her above me. She was wearing pajamas—sadly—and her eyes were wide with curiosity. “Cletus hired a retired Navy SEAL, who happened to be eighty years old or more, to strip for Jethro at his bachelor party.”
Her brow wrinkled. “But where did the glitter come from?”
I chuckled, because of course nothing about an eighty-year-old stripper, or the fact that he was a Navy SEAL, would eclipse the fact that I hadn’t answered her original question.
“Cletus gave us each an envelope, said it was a surprise, but they turned out to be glitter bombs.”
“Why would he do that?”
I lifted the hem of her shirt, wanting the silk of her skin. “Because he’s Cletus.”
“Hmm . . .” She gave me a quick kiss. “How have you been?”
I opened both my eyes, and sighed, sliding my hand under her tank top and around to her back. “Missing you. A lot has happened.”
“What?’
“I made a decision about Duane. I’m going to tell him.”
Her features grew soft, concerned. “What made you decide?”
I gave her the gist of it, about Cletus and Jenn and how that situation resolved itself. Then I explained as much as I could about Cletus’s leverage over the Wraiths without telling her anything that might incriminate her if the truth came out. Then I told her about our brother who’d died.
She sucked in a breath, gripping her chest. “That’s terrible news.”
“It made me realize that I needed to tell Duane. He deserves to know.”
“Okay, okay. Let me know how I can support you.” She looked so earnest, so determined.
“I will, thank you. The plan is to tell him today.” Absentmindedly, I sketched the curve of her waist, tugging back her pajama bottoms to reveal the smooth skin of her hip.
She appeared to be surprised by this news. “Why today? Why not wait until after the wedding?”
“You think I should wait?”
“No, not at all. I just wanted to know why you want to do it so soon.”
“Because Claire will be there, at the wedding. I don’t want to ambush her, but . . .”
“You want to tell her, too.”
“I do.” I leaned forward, placing a soft kiss against her neck. “And Duane is leaving next Thursday. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back. If I don’t act soon, then the three of us will miss a chance.”
She nodded, her fingers threading into my hair. “That makes sense. Just let me know what I can do.”
“You’re still coming?”
“Yes, I said I would.” She ran her knuckles along the side of my beard. “I like how this feels. It’s both scratchy and soft.”
That made me grin. “I’m glad you’re coming to the wedding and I’m glad you like my beard.”
“It’s a magnificent beard. You should always have it, so I can always touch it.” She leaned away and inspected me. “You still look tired. Do you want to go on a run? Or do you want to sleep?”
Judging from the light outside, it was much later that her usual 6:00 AM run time.
“You haven’t gone on your run yet?”
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I decided to sleep in.”
“You slept in?”
“No. I lay next to you while you slept in so I could keep touching you.”
“Ah. I see.” I liked the sound of that.
“Run?”
Since I’d been out half the night, assaulted by a senior citizen posing as a stripper, I decided rest was in my best interest. “Sleep.”
“Okay, then . . . shower?”
My grin widened. “Yes, please.”
She nodded, giving me one of her almost smiles, and then stood and moved to her dresser.
/> I watched her dress. I admired her long legs and torso as she removed her clothes, growing hot around my neck as her breasts were revealed, losing my breath as she bent over. Physically, the woman was a goddess, and she didn’t seem to care.
Of course she didn’t care.
It would be so easy to look at her and only ever see the shell, be blinded by her form. But her flaws, her resilience in the face of her struggles, her strength of character and honor, that’s what made her who she was.
She was exquisite to me and I loved her because I knew her. And I felt sorry for everyone else who wouldn’t be able to look beyond her exterior to the true beauty within.
So, yeah, I admired her body as she slipped on workout clothes, I thought about all the ways I would make her come when she returned, and I mourned the loss of her skin as she covered it. I watched her until she left the room. But when she was gone, I missed her.
So I grabbed Shelly’s pillow and rolled to my side, giving myself a mental high five for coming over last night.
Best decision ever.
Surrounded by her scent, I’d just started drifting back to sleep when Shelly burst back into the room.
“Beau!” Her voice was a harsh whisper. “Beau!”
“Yes, yes. I’m up.” I forced my eyes open.
“Beau. Quinn is here.”
I jerked, now completely awake. “What?”
“My brother. He’s here. With Janie. And Desmond.” Suddenly, she clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes huge and frightened, like she just remembered something terrifying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I sat up, my heart in my throat. “Are you okay?”
“All of those sentences were even numbered.”
31
“The bravest people are the ones who don’t mind looking like cowards.”
― T.H. White, The Once and Future King
* * *
*Beau*
I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her into a hug. The terrified look on her face had me thinking the worst.
She pushed against me. “We don’t have time for a hug. Quinn and Janie and Desmond are out there, and—”
“One thing at a time.” I held her tighter. “How can I help you? What do you say or do when you need to push through your fears?”
She shook her head, her body stiff, but then she recited on a rush, “Thinking that a person is prone toward violence because of the number of words in their sentences is irrational. I will face this irrational fear and conquer it. I am in control of my actions. I’m not violent.”
I kept her in my arms and we breathed together, her body relaxing by degrees. Eventually, her arms came around me and she buried her face in my neck.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry.”
“No need for an apology.” I kissed her temple. “To be honest, I’m feeling a little panicked myself.”
She leaned away, keeping her hands on me but tilting her chin back. “What? Why?”
“Not going to lie, Quinn scares me a little.”
Shelly smiled, shaking her head. She gathered my face between her palms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Oh my God, I love you.”
Now I stiffened.
She loves me?
Catching her by the arms, I gently forced her away so I could see her eyes. “You love me?”
“Yes.” She said it quickly, like she was suddenly remembering she loved me. “I love you!”
“Did you forget to tell me?”
“No. I didn’t forget. You were asleep.”
“You figured it out while I was asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Last night?”
“No.” She wiggled out of my grip, glancing quickly over her shoulder.
“Shelly.”
“Monday night, okay?” She was backing away, heading for the door. “You need to get dressed.”
Now I did scowl at her. “You forgot to tell me.”
“I did not forget to tell you, I forgot not to tell you.”
“What?”
She was making no sense.
“I decided I wasn’t going to tell you until later. I wanted to make it special, okay?” She pointed at me, waving her finger around. “Put clothes on, come out, say hi.”
And with that, she slipped out of the room, leaving me naked in her bed wearing nothing but a smile.
Again.
* * *
“Hello, Beau.”
“Quinn.” I nodded once and didn’t grimace, even though Quinn’s handshake was more like a vise grip of thinly veiled aggression than a friendly hello.
I was especially impressed because, while he crushed my bones with his right hand, he held his infant son in his left. That’s some serious multitasking.
“Hi, Beau.” Quinn’s wife Janie stepped between us, forcing her husband to release my hand. She put a hand on my shoulder and brought me forward for a kiss on the cheek. Her greeting was a lot friendlier.
Then again, I hadn’t just come out of her sister’s bedroom.
But then she said, “The average woman uses her height in lipstick every five years. I’m not wearing any lipstick because I ran out of time this morning and I have none in the diaper bag, but I am wearing ChapStick. There is no official fear of wearing ChapStick, but the fear of kissing is called philemaphobia. And cherophobia is the fear of fun.”
I nodded politely, remembering that Ashley had said Janie Sullivan was a little odd. Not Shelly odd, a different kind, where she’d randomly start quoting little known facts. I reckoned she read a lot of books.
“What’s with the glitter?” Quinn lifted his chin to my hair, his tone flat.
“Cletus. He glitter-bombed us last night at Jethro’s bachelor party.”
Quinn’s features were impassive, but he said, “I like your brother Cletus.”
“He certainly is something else.” My friendly smile didn’t waver, but on the inside I was frowning. I was frowning intensely.
I was going to have to move a mountain to get this guy to like me. So be it.
After Shelly left the bedroom earlier, I’d gone through my stuff, looking for something decent to wear. All I had were jeans and T-shirts, so I picked the least worn of each and pulled them on. Then I put on socks. My momma always said you should meet a guest in shoes, family in socks, and friends in bare feet.
I don’t know why she said this, but it stuck with me.
Shelly rushed into the room, her attention flicking to the baby in Quinn’s arms, then to her sister-in-law. “I have your coffee. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Oh. Should I drink it in the kitchen?” Janie shifted her weight, like she was going to follow Shelly.
“I can bring it out here,” Shelly offered, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, I should have brought it out here.”
“I can go get it,” Janie offered, taking a step forward.
“No. I’ll bring it. You stay there.” As she turned away I thought I heard her mumble, “Bags, coats, drinks, day. Bags, coats, drinks, day.”
Returning my attention to Quinn, I found him watching me with a glare of suspicion. “How old are you?”
I reared back an inch, but then quickly recovered, giving him my most affable shrug and an answer meant to distract. “I was born during the war.”
“Which war?”
Shelly rushed back into the room. “Here is your coffee.”
“Thank you.” Janie accepted it with a warm smile. “I’ve allowed myself to have a cup a day.”
“Oh, then don’t drink that.” Shelly took the cup out of Janie’s hands just as the woman was taking her first sip. “It’s not as good as Daisy’s coffee. We should go there.”
Shelly bolted out of the room before Janie could protest. The redhead glanced at her husband, giving him a distressed look.
“You’re the one who insisted we come,” he said, tilting his head to the side to avoid the flailing arm of his son.
“She keeps cancelling.” Janie lowered her voice. “Y
ou know how important it is to your parents that she come for Christmas.”
Quinn’s glare flickered to me, and then away. “She’s never going to come.”
“She might.” Janie’s gaze also moved to me, then narrowed thoughtfully. “How long have you two been together?”
“Just a few weeks.” I gave her an easy smile.
“You work at the shop, too?”
“I’m part owner.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Janie’s smile was tired. “I asked Ashley to set things up when she came up to visit us in September, when Desmond was born. I think she called your brother Jethro to help Shelly.”
“Do you know why Ashley called Jethro instead of just coming to Duane or me or Cletus instead?”
“At first, I asked about Shelly getting a job with the park service. I think that’s why your sister called Jethro. But then Jethro realized she’s a mechanic and brought her over to meet Cletus.”
Movement out of the corner of my eye snagged my attention. Desmond was grabbing Quinn’s nose and trying to pull it from his face. The big man then dipped his son back, kissed him on the neck, and made the baby giggle.
Shelly appeared again, drawing everyone’s gazes. She’d changed out of her running clothes, put on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and was giving us an expectant look.
“Should we go?”
“Where?” Quinn asked, lifting an eyebrow at his sister.
“To Daisy’s Nut House for coffee and pancakes.”
“Oh.” Janie looked to her husband, then back to Shelly. “We brought food. We don’t need to go out.”
“You brought food?” Shelly’s face fell.
“Yes. Since we dropped in unannounced, I thought it made sense. We brought Italian beef from Al’s and pancakes for you from Giavani’s.” Janie gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sure we can share some of ours.”
Quinn grumbled something under his breath that I didn’t catch, but which earned him a sharp look from his wife.
“It’s okay.” I tried to ease her mind. “I can’t stay long. We have preparations for Jethro’s wedding and I need to get back to the house.”
“I could have cooked. I can cook.” Shelly seemed out of sorts at this news.