Pretty Jane (The Browning Series Book 3)

by Dorothy Barrett

  “Annoying, huh?” His hands found her waist.

  “Very.” PJ danced out of his grasp and headed for her apartment. She could feel him behind her, could feel that lusty look returning as she put a little extra swing in her hips.

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am,” Beau drawled as he came up behind her on the doorstep. “I didn’t realize my flowers were annoying you. Is it the allergies?”

  PJ giggled as he nibbled the back of her neck. She’d drawn her hair up into a ponytail, and the warmth of his breath on her skin was like some kind of truth serum. “The flowers are fine, damn it, but I don’t see why we can’t get to the fucking. I really feel like I’m ready for the fucking.”

  Beau let out a sharp hiss, his hand sliding around her middle and delving low to test out the heat between her thighs. Even through the heavier denim of her jeans, PJ could tell Beau had an idea of just how ready she was because his growing erection was nudging her ass. PJ palmed the door to brace herself. Beau’s other hand snuck around to tug at her naval piercing as he whispered into her ear. “I know, but you’re just gonna have to wait.”

  He bit down gently on the side of her neck.

  PJ squeaked.

  The front door swung open, and they both lurched forward.

  “For the love of god, you two! Get a room!” Her mother stood before them in a thick cotton bathrobe, glaring as best she could with her face frozen in a kelp mask. “I’m trying to watch Growing Pains here.” Francine stalked away, Dinah tailing after her with a sharp mewl of affront.

  “Dammmn.” Beau’s grip on her hip tightened as he swore. “I think I just pissed off your cat.”

  “Make it up to her later. She likes seafood too.” PJ giggled as he turned her. Then she burrowed into him, her mouth lingering near his jaw. “You know you can come in if you want to…”

  Beau let out a wistful sigh before pecking her on the nose. “I’ve gotta pick Max up from Ling’s party—”

  “Of course. No worries.” PJ bowed her head to hide a flush of disappointment. “Maybe another time—”

  “Come away with me this weekend.”

  Her head swung back up, excitement blossoming. A romantic weekend together sounded promising. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. We’ll drive out Saturday morning. Meet the guys at the river.”

  PJ blinked, her excitement fizzling. “Did you just invite me to go fishing with your buddies?”

  Beau bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh at her obvious lack of appreciation for the idea. PJ had one foot in her apartment, irritation brewing as she considered slamming the door in his face. What was the man thinking? There was absolutely nothing hot about fishing—

  “Relax, Pru. We’re not going fishing. Not my favorite water sport. And you wouldn’t be the only woman there. My brother’s wife is coming and Lily, of course—” Beau paused as he caught her immediate scowl. “What? I thought you two were cool these days?”

  PJ rolled her eyes. “Lily’s just as annoying as you, Double A. I made the mistake of reading that damn Mistress of Mellyn book she gave me, and then I told her about how I could see the parallels in gothic themes and imagery between Holt and Howling’s works, and that it was kind of an okay story even though there was no sex in it, and now Lily’s all over me to read Jane Eyre, and she thinks we’re like book buddies or some shit, and she wants to know my thoughts” — PJ made little air quotes with her fingers, her lips curling in horror as she arrived at the worst of her stepsister’s offenses — “and now she thinks I should go to college—”

  “You should go to college,” Beau cut in swiftly.

  “You better go to college,” Francine hollered from inside the apartment.

  “I am not going to coll—”

  Beau’s mouth was on hers again, stealing the remaining breath and thunder from PJ’s lungs in one passionate kiss. PJ lost all train of thought. This man tasted amazing. She was completely and utterly addicted. What in the hell was she going to do?

  He pulled away slowly and smiled. “Come to the river with me, Pru.”

  She sighed and curled into him. “I guess I’d better get a new swimsuit.”

  Chapter 32

  Saturday morning, Beau arrived at Janelle’s house bright and early. As soon as she opened the door, Max plowed into her with an exuberant squeal.

  “Mommmmmy!”

  “Hey buddy,” she said as she cuddled him. “How was your friend’s party?”

  Max squirmed out of the hug without answering, dumped his backpack in the entryway, and darted for the living room. Janelle frowned, one hand going to her back as she leaned over to scoop up Max’s bag.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Beau held up a palm and hollered out to his kid. “Max! Backpack away now! Or no video games!” Max scampered back over and did as he was told.

  “Thanks,” Janelle said, waving Beau inside. “I’m sure I’ll be dangling that threat a lot this weekend.”

  Beau felt a twinge of guilt as he followed her to the kitchen. He was dropping Max off a day earlier than usual, Aaron was gone on some training gig through Monday, and Janelle was seven months pregnant. “Y’all gonna be okay?” he asked with concern.

  Janelle yawned as she swept her dark curls into a messy bun. “Yes, Beau. We’ll be fine. Can you do me a favor, though, and grab the coffee from the top of the pantry before you go? Aaron keeps stashing it where I can’t reach. He’s so annoying.”

  Beau smiled as he rummaged through a tall oak cabinet by the fridge. Janelle’s grumpiness was reminding him acutely of the woman he was going to be spending the next two nights with, and Beau had never been more eager for a getaway in his life. Pulling out a can of medium roast, he set it on the counter next to the coffee pot.

  “Someone looks happy.”

  Beau turned to find his ex eyeing him with interest. “Just excited to be hitting the river,” he said neutrally, “Weather’s gonna be nice. Should be a fun trip.”

  “You taking PJ?”

  Beau nodded, suddenly even more eager to get away. He knew Janelle had already sorted out that he and PJ were dating. As soon as the cat was out of the bag with the Colonel, Beau had stopped being discreet about picking PJ up from Journeys. Janelle had noticed them together a couple times. She just hadn’t commented on it yet. She looked like she had a few things to say about it now.

  “That’s cool,” Janelle said a little too quickly, the brightness of her smile not quite matching the sudden flash of concern in her eyes.

  Beau tensed as Janelle fidgeted with the ties of her robe. “What?” he asked her directly.

  “Nothing,” she said, her voice rising as her shoulders lifted.

  “Janelle, we’ve been friends for years. We share a child. If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

  “Fine.” Janelle let out an exasperated sigh. “You know I’ve never harped on you about who you date—”

  “And I appreciate it,” he cut in swiftly. “I never gave you any grief over Aaron.”

  Janelle cocked her head, eyes widening. “Aaron’s a firefighter, for god’s sake. PJ has a reputation for starting them. I think I have a right to be a little concerned if she’s going to be spending time with Max.”

  “She’s not like that anymore,” Beau snapped, his temper flaring. He was so done with the ‘PJ’s got baggage’ lectures. “Look, I’m only going to say this once. PJ would never hurt our son. She cares about him. I trust her. That’s it.”

  “Okay!” Janelle’s palms shot up. “I’ve said my piece. If you trust her, that’s good enough for me.”

  “I do.”

  “Great—”

  “Mama, I gonna eat deese Chocolate Cheerios.” They turned to find Max coming out of the pantry with a box in his hands. “Daddy’s cereal tastes like yuk.”

  Janelle relaxed, a grin forming.

  Beau felt his own irritation dissipating as he watched Max climb onto a barstool with his loot. Beau sighed. Then he leaned down to drop a kiss on his son’s f
orehead. “Be good for your mother this week.” Max nodded, awkwardly stuffing a fistful of little rings into his mouth.

  “I’m gonna take off,” Beau said to Janelle. “Call me if there’s an emergency. And don’t overdo it with the caffeine.”

  Janelle rolled her eyes at him. “Does it look like this kid’s in any danger of suffering from low birth weight?” she said, pointing to her sizable baby bump. “I’m a nurse, Beau. I know to stay under my two hundred milligrams.”

  “Alright then.” Beau yanked his keys from the pocket of his jeans and turned to leave.

  “Beau?”

  He paused in the entryway to the kitchen. “Yeah?”

  “I really am happy to see you so happy.”

  “Thanks.” Beau glanced back at his ex, feeling the last of his tension melt away at her earnest expression. “And I am happy.”

  Chapter 33

  PJ didn’t know it was possible to fall in love with a house, but shortly after completing the two-hour road trip to the Mississippi gulf coast and arriving at the Brownings’ riverfront property in the quaint seaside town of Bay St. Louis, she felt her heart give a pitter-patter. She hopped out of Beau’s car, her boots landing with a chalky-sounding crunch in the crushed shell driveway curving about the home. Then she raised her hands over her eyes to shield them from the brightness of the late morning sun as she peered upwards to take it all in.

  The house was maybe a quarter the size of the Colonel’s lavish mansion in the Hills, but with the bulk of it being lifted thirty feet in the air by thick white pillars mounted into the ground, the place seemed massive. And magical. PJ smiled as she took in its vibrant turquoise siding and crisp white shutters, the sharp angles of its roof soaring high into the sky, and the coppery stain of the stairs sweeping down from the side of its expansive, raised porch.

  “Like it?” Beau came to stand next to her, his head tilting up, the mirrored lenses of his aviators reflecting the same glorious sight.

  “Oh my gosh. I’ve always wanted to stay in one of these!” PJ popped her gum as she peered up at it with excitement. “My mom and dad took me to the Gulf Coast a few times when I was little. I remember seeing these houses on stilts, and thinking they were like castles or something.”

  “They’re called boathouses.” Beau nodded towards a shady lot directly below the home, where a trio of boats was dry docked. The largest was a sailboat, its mast folded down and carefully tucked away. To the left of that was a sleek-looking powerboat. And rounding out the group was a small green boat with a simple outboard motor and the words ‘The Swamper’ painted on the side. This boat was parked closest to a narrow, shed-like structure supporting the west side of the house instead of the posts. “For as long as I can remember, we’ve always had one in the family.” Beau eyed the boathouse proudly. “The hurricanes keep knocking them down. We keep building them back up.”

  “It’s amazing.” PJ slung her backpack over her shoulder as she trailed Beau up the crowded driveway.

  Beau glanced back at her, chuckling at her awe-struck expression. “Come on. Looks like my brothers are already here. Let’s get inside before they grab all the good rooms.”

  “Too late.”

  Beau turned at the mischievous drawl coming from under the house. “Jackson!” he called out, breaking into stride as he spied the man rounding the back of the powerboat.

  “How you doing, baby brother?” Jackson set the orange fuel can in his hand on the ground and hauled Beau in for a back-slapping hug.

  PJ stood back, watching their embrace with a shy smile. She’d only met Beau’s brothers a few times at the Colonel’s, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit they’d all made a striking impression on her tortured adolescent self back then on account of every last one of them being gorgeous.

  Jackson probably looked the most like Beau; the dark hair peeking out from his Saints hat had a similar wave to it, and his earthy brown eyes were surrounded by the same thick set of lady-killer lashes. But where Beau was tall and lean, Jackson was maybe an inch shorter and stockier, the biceps exposed by his tank top slightly more defined.

  They broke apart, both glancing her way at the same time.

  Beau waved her over with a smile. “You remember PJ?”

  Jackson’s grin widened in recognition. “Well damn, trouble, you’ve grown up,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug. PJ had barely processed the action before he was stepping away with a wink. “Like the new look.”

  “Thanks.” PJ swept a hand over her face nervously. She’d done the minimalist thing again with her makeup, opting for only just enough foundation to cover the freckles, a hint of bronzer, and a shimmery coat of lip gloss. It was the closest she’d come to being makeup-free in public in a long time, and the fact that Beau’s hot-as-sin older brother was checking her out with frank appreciation was certainly making her feel better about the situation. But it wasn’t the reason her heart was now hammering in her chest.

  That was all Beau’s doing. Because the man had curved an arm about her middle and was gazing at her with a certain lusty look even as he griped at his brother. “Stop flirting with my woman, ya jackass.”

  Jackson gave a bark of laughter and slapped him on the back again. “No worries, buddy. I’ll just hit on Eli’s.” Waggling his brows lecherously, he nodded towards the stairs at the side of the house.

  The giggle rising in PJ’s throat at Jackson’s goofy expression was swallowed right along with her gum when she followed his gaze to a pair of ladies coming down the steps. The brunette on the right was pretty, her petite frame decked out in a fitted white halter top and the perfect aqua capris to complement the sky-blue streaks in her hair. She was cute and stylish, and PJ couldn’t help smoothing a hand over the cheap floral sundress she’d bought on clearance at Kohl’s.

  But if this woman was making her self-conscious, the taller one on the left, the woman that Jackson was eyeballing, was intimidating the hell out of her. This woman had flawless olive-brown skin, model-worthy cheekbones, Audrey Hepburn eyes, and the kind of silky raven locks that glistened when the light hit them.

  “Oh, hey, Mel.” Beau shot her a friendly wave. “Glad you could make it after all.”

  “Yep,” Jackson drawled. “Me too.”

  PJ wasn’t. Not even a little. She scanned the woman’s upswept do, breezy white maxi, and blingy gold sandal-flats. Then her gaze shot to her own feet, and PJ was suddenly acutely aware that wearing pink laces with her combat boots didn’t make them appear any more feminine.

  “Hiya there, Beau.” Mel swept over to him with a sheepish grin. “Eli twisted my arm into coming this weekend. Said I was working too hard at the studio and ordered me to go have some fun.”

  “Sounds like Eli.” Beau smiled at her warmly.

  Mel giggled, the husky sound grating on PJ’s nerves as the woman winked. “And I had to watch Tyler last weekend, so you know I really deserve this.”

  Beau threw back his head, laughing as though she’d told him some incredibly funny inside joke.

  PJ frowned. Two minutes ago she’d been feeling special, like a beautiful princess whisked off to some magical castle, but now, in the presence of this gorgeous, funny goddess, she just felt like a big boring toad in a frumpy green dress. And she wanted to leave. This was the type of woman guys like Beau and Jackson ended up with. Not her—

  “Hi, I’m Sarah.” PJ jerked as the woman with the highlights offered her a smile. “Nate’s wife,” she added, the bubbly sound of her voice drawing Beau’s attention.

  “Ladies, I’d like y’all to meet my girlfriend, PJ,” Beau told them, the genuine pride in his words quelling some of her immediate desire to flee.

  The women shot her friendly waves, and PJ forced herself to smile in return, but on the inside she was feeling totally out of her element, wishing with every fiber of her being that she’d worn her fake lashes that morning.

  Beau and his brother continued to make small talk with the ladies as PJ continued to stew.
Why in the hell had she let Francine convince her to buy a damn bikini? PJ was a size twelve, on a good day, with big floppy boobs. These women were probably five sizes smaller, with cute perky tits.

  “—Nate’s over there sorting through the gear with Eli and Lily. Y’all gonna go skiing with us in a bit?”

  Jackson’s question snapped PJ back to the conversation at hand. “Whoa. What?” She turned towards the lower level of the house, now noticing it had two doors, one towards the middle of the structure, and another closer to the back of the house where they were standing. The back door was wide open, and Lily was walking out of it with an irritated expression. She propped what appeared to be an oversized snowboard against the side of the shed with an assortment of skis.

  PJ turned back to Beau, eyes widening. “This is your favorite water sport?”

  “Yep,” he said with unbridled enthusiasm. “And, trust me, it’s a lot more fun than fishing.”

  “Hells, yes,” Jackson chimed in. “Although, if y’all ladies want me to take you out in the Swamper later, we can go across the river to the marshes and check out the gators.”

  “Wow. That sounds fabulous, Jackson, but I think I’m gonna have to pass.” Sarah winked as she pecked him on the cheek. “Mel, what do ya say we go hang out on the docks with some lemonade and laugh at the menfolk as they wipe out in the water.”

  “I’m completely down with that.”

  PJ watched the pair stride off towards the front of the house where she could see a stretch of green grass, and she could just make out the edges of a boat slip tapering down, presumably towards the sparkling blue water she’d caught glimpses of when Beau had first pulled into the scenic riverfront community. Then she turned back to find Jackson and Beau staring at her.

  “So let me get this straight,” she said, eyes narrowing as they smiled at her expectantly. “You two want to drag my big, half-naked body through croc-infested waters behind a boat going fifty miles an hour?”