Pretty Jane (The Browning Series Book 3)

by Dorothy Barrett

  “N-nothing,” PJ stammered, a jolt of unease flashing through her at the lie. But just as quickly she was rallying, shaking off the guilt, because denial was a powerful thing, and she had one more day. One more day until she’d let herself freak out. One more day until she’d break down and pee on the stick she’d picked up from the Albertsons on the way over to the game. But she probably wouldn’t have to use it. She’d been three days late before. And her period had come. It was going to come. Any hour now.

  “I’m good,” she said brightly.

  Beau stared at her skeptically

  PJ sighed. “We’re good, Beau. There’s nothing to worry a—” PJ couldn’t finish the sentence. They’d come to a stop in front of the concession stands, where Thelma’s mother was busy clearing off her table. A diamond tennis bracelet sparkled from Juliana’s wrist as she hoisted a Costco-sized bottle of mustard into a big plastic bin, and her hair was pulled back by a pair of Gucci frames, the bone-straight length of it seemingly impervious to the humidity, though its soft strawberry-blond shade appeared as genuine as her daughter’s.

  The woman Juliana was chatting with, however, looked faker than ever. Fresh from her sabbatical, Odelle Latimoore was sporting a bouncy blond blowout with dark caramel streaks to accent her spray tan, and the look she hit PJ with was remarkably similar to the Kardashian duckface Thelma had demonstrated so accurately over burgers and shakes the day before. It instantly filled PJ with anxiety, and the urgent need to flee, to protect her beautiful little bubble. Especially when that look zeroed in on Beau’s hand wrapped around hers.

  PJ gripped his palm tighter, tugging Beau onward as she said a hasty goodbye to Thelma.

  “’Night, girl. See ya Monday.”

  For a second, it seemed they might escape, but then Thelma rushed away from the handsome junior she’d been flirting with for the past ten minutes and barreled into PJ for a hug.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  PJ let go of Beau’s hand and hugged the girl back. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Juliana’s mouth falling open, the woman’s stunned expression leaving little doubt that the hugging business was not something her daughter engaged in too often. And the subsequent tears that pooled in the woman’s tired green eyes had PJ thinking it had probably been a while since she and her daughter had shared anything close to the kind of embrace Thelma had her locked in now.

  “You’re welcome,” PJ whispered back.

  When she pulled loose, Julianna was wiping at her eyes briskly. “Odelle, you remember that clinic Thelma goes to?”

  “Of course,” Odelle said sweetly.

  “Well, this is Thelma’s new therapist—”

  “Mo-ooooom.” Thelma’s face reddened as she glanced back at her soon-to-be prom date.

  Jeremiah only smiled as he walked over to her. Then he leaned in and dropped a kiss on her flushed cheek. “It’s alright, Thelma. My buddy Kal used to go to Journeys. It’s a cool place. See ya at school, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Thelma said faintly.

  As Jeremiah jogged off to join his family in the parking lot, Odelle let out a nails-on-chalkboard laugh that had PJ wishing she’d remembered her noise-canceling headphones. “My word, Jules. It looks like your Thelma has landed herself quite the catch. The Falcon’s quarterback? Really?”

  “Oh, leave her alone, Dell.” Juliana sighed irritably as she covered a bowl of chopped onion with plastic wrap.

  Thelma ignored both women, yanked her mother’s keys from her purse, and stalked off to the Beemer parked illegally along the curb.

  “Oh, where are my manners,” Odelle said, swooping in to give Beau a quick peck.

  PJ’s fingers flexed at her sides, her claws itching to come back out. It was one thing for the funeral ladies to steal kisses, it was entirely another for this bitch to do so.

  “It’s so good to see you again.” Odelle tousled Max’s sleepy head. “You too, Max.”

  Max hissed at her.

  Beau rubbed his son’s leg and took a step back. “Odelle,” he said congenially. “Looks like you had a nice vacation.”

  “Why thank you!” Odelle flipped her hair behind her before running a finger along the low V of her blouse. “I did get some sun.”

  PJ rolled her eyes. The woman’s fake tits looked even faker with the fake tan.

  “Odelle, this is my girlfriend, PJ Bruister.” Beau smiled proudly as he took PJ’s hand in his once more.

  PJ was grateful for the connection, but it also had her wanting to drag him away as fast as humanly possible from the woman staring at them.

  “Francine’s daughter, right?” Odelle cocked a brow, her gaze calculating.

  “That’s me.”

  “Didn’t we bump into each other at the gym a few months ago?”

  “I don’t know,” PJ said tersely. “I bump into a lot of people at the gym.”

  “And now you work with Thelma at the clinic?” Odelle pressed.

  “Yes, and she’s a wonderful therapist.” Beau squeezed PJ’s hand supportively. “Started working at Journeys not too long after I enrolled my son—”

  “Of course she did,” Odelle said, clapping as she let loose with another hyena-like cackle.

  PJ’s free hand curled into a fist, her brain playing an endless loop of “Don’t hit the bitch, don’t hit the bitch, don’t hit the bitch” just as Odelle leaned in with a taunting smirk.

  “Touché, sugar. I guess you got a piece of that after all.”

  Beau stiffened at PJ’s side, his hand slipping free from her palm.

  “For Pete’s sake, Dell, would you stop being a pill and help me clean this mess up?” Juliana lobbed a roll of paper towels at her.

  Odelle dodged it with remarkable agility considering her strappy Valentino slingbacks. “Sorry, hun, I think I see that recruiter over there talkin’ to Troy. I need to get in a word.” Odelle strutted off without a backward glance.

  PJ let out the breath she hadn’t realize she’d been holding and glanced at Beau nervously. His jaw was tight, his lips set in a hard line.

  “What the hell was that, Prudence?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. “It was noth—”

  “Can we go now, Daddy? I’m soooooooo bored,” Max whined. The kid was obviously spent after a long day of preschool, therapy, and football. Beau tugged him off his shoulders.

  “I need to get this guy to bed,” he said stiffly. “Then we should talk.”

  “Yeah, okay.” PJ said this but made no move to follow Beau when he turned.

  “You coming?” Beau glanced back at her with a hint of impatience.

  “Nah, I brought Francine’s ride. I’m gonna hang here and help clean up. I’ll drop by your place in a few.

  Beau’s jaw relaxed slightly, and for a moment, PJ thought he was going to kiss her goodbye, but then he merely nodded before tugging Max toward the parking lot.

  PJ watched them walk away before bending to retrieve the roll of towels from the sidewalk. Juliana had all the food packed away already, so all PJ had to do was help her wipe down the vinyl tablecloth, fold down the table, and stow everything in the shed across from the bathrooms. They worked through each task silently and efficiently, and when they were done, Juliana let out a long, tired sigh.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t mind Odelle.” Juliana rolled her eyes in the direction of the field where Troy and his mother were absorbed in conversation with a heavy-set man sporting an Ole Miss hat. “She’s been a real witch ever since she found her husband in bed with Cleo’s fencing instructor. Believe it or not, my friend used to be fairly sweet.”

  “Your friend just about got punched in the face.”

  Juliana snorted. “As interesting as that would have been to see, I’m glad you restrained yourself. Dell would have probably slapped you with an assault charge right before she scheduled tha
t nose job she’s been considering for the past two years.”

  “Yay for self-control,” PJ said with mock enthusiasm.

  Juliana offered her a small, surprisingly genuine smile. “Thank you for helping Thelma. She really likes hanging with you.”

  “I really like hanging with her too. Most of the time, it doesn’t even feel like work.”

  Juliana sighed again. “Most of the time… it does for me.”

  PJ studied the tired, forty-something, rich suburban housewife and booster-club mama, and for the first time since she’d met her, PJ felt the strongest urge to help. And not just by moving some bins and a table. Juliana Beauxfort was an autism parent, and she needed support too.

  “Maybe if you tried doing something fun with her, something Thelma likes to do… maybe it wouldn’t feel like work,” she said carefully.

  Juliana strapped her purse over her shoulder and eyed PJ wryly. “Something fun as in non-football related?”

  “Yep.”

  “Got any ideas?”

  “Thelma likes dancing fast. There’s a Zumba class at my mom’s gym she might enjoy.”

  Julianna smiled. “I have been meaning to try that.”

  “Call Joanna Hughes at the gym. She’ll set you two up. Also, Thelma really digs Katy Perry. Maybe take in a concert next time she’s in the city. Just don’t let T forget the headphones again. The music can get really loud at those things.”

  Julianna grinned as they stepped into the parking lot. “Thanks for the tips. I’ll talk to Thelma about it.”

  “Cool.”

  “Enjoy the rest of your night, PJ.”

  PJ rolled her eyes. Something was telling her that that was going to be a tall order. “I’ll try. Later, Mrs. Beauxfort.”

  Juliana waved before settling into her Beemer.

  PJ strode for her mother’s Acura with a sigh, and as she fired up the car, she had the overwhelming sense that it was time to face a different sort of music. And she could only hope that once she did, Beau would still want to hang with her too.

  Chapter 46

  As he tucked Max into bed that night, Beau was entirely grateful to his kid for passing out on the drive home because he was in no mood for bedtime stories and tooth-brushing, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for another round of video games.

  After slipping from Max’s room, Beau walked to his own and undressed on autopilot, not bothering to toss his stained shirt and rumpled slacks into the hamper. Both were dumped unceremoniously on the floor. He didn’t give a shit.

  All he could think about was that little chat with Odelle after the game. It had rattled him, stirring up the same old feelings of frustration he’d experienced when his personal life had been blow up like tabloid fodder in college, the same sense of paranoia that everyone was talking about him, assuming things about him that were largely untrue.

  But even worse, the encounter had robbed him of the earlier jubilation he’d felt while sitting proudly beside PJ in the stadium. And it had left him with a growing sense of doubt.

  Beau hadn’t liked the way Odelle had spoken to PJ. He hadn’t liked her tone, and he damn sure hadn’t liked her insinuations. But what he really hadn’t liked was the guilty way PJ had been trying to drag him away, like maybe there was some truth to whatever the woman had been implying.

  Beau frowned, turning the conversation over in his head as he donned a pair of sweats.

  I guess you got a piece of that after all…

  What the hell had Odelle meant by that? Had she and PJ been talking about him? Had they had some sordid little bet going? As soon as the thought entered his head, Beau was dismissing it. PJ wouldn’t have played him like that. She wasn’t the type to get sucked into some bullshit locker room wager with the likes of Odelle Latimoore.

  She was, however, the type to obsess over a guy. PJ had admitted as much when she’d told him about how she’d used to follow Wade around Baylor. Beau wasn’t blind to the fact that she’d also used to follow him on occasion. He’d noticed her trailing him a couple times just last summer on his runs through the local parks.

  Didn’t we bump into each other at the gym a few months ago…

  Beau sank down on his bed, remembering that rainy morning a few months back when he’d bumped into Odelle at the gym. That had been right after one of his runs, on the very same day PJ had been expelled from the academy. Was it possible PJ had gotten out of school early and then followed him to the gym? Had she somehow overheard his conversation with Odelle?

  Beau sat there for a while, head bent, as he considered the matter, and the longer he sat, the more agitated he became. Because he was beginning to understand exactly what Odelle had been implying. PJ hadn’t taken the job at Journeys to help those kids “piece together success one day at a time.” She’d taken it to get a piece of him.

  And it had worked. She’d gotten a really big piece. And that piece was hurting right now. Because PJ hadn’t been honest with him that first night he’d driven her home from the clinic. And she wasn’t being honest with him now. He could feel it.

  “Beau?”

  He lifted his head, and suddenly, there she was, standing in the doorway wearing his sunny yellow sweater-vest, her expression anything but. “The door was unlocked,” she said quietly.

  “My hands were full.”

  “Okay.”

  PJ walked into the room and sat her backpack on the floor near his discarded clothes. Then she lifted her chin bravely. “I heard you and Odelle talking at Fit Bods that day.”

  “I know.” He’d more or less sorted this out himself. “That’s how you knew about Max’s autism.”

  She nodded. “Odelle gave you a card for the clinic. You dropped it when you rushed out of the gym.”

  “And you picked it up.”

  She nodded again.

  He rose from the bed and walked over to her, feeling nervous energy radiating from her like a bubble. She was scared. He didn’t like it. But Beau was mad, and he didn’t like that either. “Why did you take the job at Journeys? Was it about Max and those kids, or was it about me?”

  “You.” The confession slipped from her mouth with a sigh. “Mostly, it was about you. I wanted to get close to you.”

  Beau’s hand rose to her cheek, itching to stroke it, to run his thumb along the lip she was gnawing. He swallowed back the urge, letting his palm fall back to his side. “Congratulations. It worked.”

  “You’re angry with me.”

  “Yes. I don’t like being manipulated. You should have been straight with me from the beginning—”

  “I know.” She inhaled sharply, dark eyes pooling. “And I’m sorry. It’s just that I always really liked you. Right from the first moment I met you. I know you probably don’t remember it…” She paused, letting the words dangle for a second, like she hoped maybe he did remember it.

  Beau didn’t. He’d fallen in love with this woman, and he hadn’t the foggiest clue how they’d met. He frowned as PJ flushed.

  “You were at the Colonel’s house one afternoon, working in his office…”

  A flash of memory surfaced. Beau had been at Grayson’s a few years ago doing security upgrades on the man’s PC. About halfway through a software install, PJ had stomped into the room in her combat boots and all her goth makeup glory, and she’d nearly jumped out of her skin when she’d seen him sitting at the Colonel’s desk. “You were borrowing his electric pencil sharpener,” Beau recalled.

  “Yeah, I was helping Lily with something” — PJ stopped again, bowing her head guiltily. “Okay, that’s a total lie. I so wasn’t helping her with something.” Beau rubbed his temples as PJ rambled on. “Anyhow, you didn’t really say anything to me. You were on the phone at the time. But you waved when I grabbed the sharpener… and you looked me in the eye when you smiled. I know it didn’t mean much to you, but I remember everything about that moment. You had on your charcoal-sweater vest, and your feet were kicked up on the desk, and you were wearing honest to goodne
ss penny loafers, and they were so damn nerdy and sexy, and I wanted you to like me so much, but you were so outta my league—”

  “For Pete’s sake!” Beau exploded. “You were, what, fifteen? I was twenty-three. I’m not some creepy pervert! No way would I have thought about you like that—”

  “I know!” she cried again. “I know you would never have been interested in me back then, but that didn’t change how I felt about you. I’ve always known how I felt about you, so when I ended up at the Colonel’s place after getting suspended from CSA, and when he got that call about going to Sacramento to help Kory, and I found out you were going with him, I saw an opportunity to get closer to you, and I—”

  “Took it,” Beau finished.

  “Yes.” PJ reddened even more as he stepped away from her.

  They lapsed into silence, both staring at each other warily. Beau wasn’t surprised by what she’d just confessed. He’d known PJ had been attracted to him for a while, and though there was certainly a part of him that was flattered by this, there was also a part of him that was unsettled. Because maybe her feelings for him were so wrapped up in a teenage crush, they weren’t authentic. What if three, four months down the line, she found someone else to obsess over? What if they didn’t even make it that long?

  “Stop,” PJ pleaded as she took a step forward. “Whatever you’re thinking? Just stop—”

  Beau backed away again. Shaking his head. Needing the space. Needing to hear the truth because he was about to lose his damn mind. “Was it real?” he asked bluntly. “The past three months? Was it real?”

  PJ stopped in her tracks, lush red lips curving into a scowl. “What the hell! Of course it was real. I mean, I can’t be entirely certain about this counselor chick who’s been pestering me, but I’m damn positive about you and me. We are real.” She advanced on him again, hypnotic eyes sucking him in, calming the irrational madness brewing inside him. Then her hands were at his cheeks. “We are a we,” she said thickly. “You, me, and Max. Yes, I did take that job at Journeys to get closer to you. But I also got closer to him in the process. I fell for both of you, Beau. So hard—”