Never in a million years did I think Beau would fly to Florida. And him busting through those doors is like a scene from a movie. My heart skips a beat when upon seeing him. If this was my wedding, I might be flattered. But this isn’t my wedding; it’s Bobby’s and Beau’s just ruined months of planning.
“What the hell are you doing here, Beau?” I yell from across the room.
“Beau?” Bobby grimaces, his nearly always soft features hardening. Leaving his soon-to-be bride at the altar, he walks down the aisle. He takes his time, all calm and collected.
The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Seconds feel like hours. Bobby finally reaches him and flashes a wicked smile. He draws back. The cracking sound from the bones in Beau’s face snapping could be heard a mile away. My breath catches. People around us gasp.
“That’s for breaking my sister’s heart,” Bobby yells.
Tristan leaves the line of groomsmen. He stops inches from my face, a finger pointing down the aisle. “That’s the two-bit hick you chose over me? What the hell, Mallory? You threw two years down the drain because of two weeks with him?”
Is he serious right now?
As I shove past Tristan, my shoulder brushes against his, pushing him out of my way. I run toward the two most important men in my life. Beau wipes the blood dripping from his nose on the back of his hand. “Sister?”
His eyes dance from Bobby to me. Then over to Kelly.
Not once.
Not twice.
But three times.
Then out of nowhere, he laughs. Laughs! A deep, belly-rolling, tear-jerking laugh.
What the hell is so funny?
Smacking him in the chest with my bouquet of flowers stifles his laugh a bit.
“What’s so funny?” I bite out. I’m trying to be angry. But the blood dripping from Beau’s nose, down his face makes him look like a vampire who’s just finished feasting. It’s hard to hate him when I know he’s hurting.
“I thought you were marrying Tristan Doyle. Your housekeeper made it seem like I needed to get here before YOU tied the knot.”
“What? No!” I say, through a laugh. To think Beau thought I’d run back to Tristan. He’s done lost his mind! “Doyle is Kelly’s last name.”
“I know that now.”
I turn to Kelly. She must hate me. Hell, I hate me. I’ve ruined her special day. The day she’s spent the last year and a half planning. My ex-whatever crashing through the doors and causing a scene was definitely not a part of the big moment she had in mind. “I’m sorry. I’m just going to take him outside.”
“It’s okay, Mal. Go,” Kelly says, holding a hand out to Bobby.
Bobby wraps his arm around his soon-to-be bride’s waist. She nuzzles against him. I nod, graciously, and escort Beau out of the room.
Beau flashes me a smile. Normally that grin of his would make me swoon, but the blood has stained his teeth red and has begun to dry around his lips. It’s anything but a turn on. “Beautiful dress by the way!” he hollers over his shoulder.
I backhand Beau in the chest. My hand is sticky and moist. Blood has dripped from his nose, soaking the collar of his shirt and partway down the front.
In the hallway, Beau sits on the floor. He tilts his head back and pinches his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Grabbing a napkin from the dining hall, I wet it in the water fountain and hand it to him.
He looks terrible even after wiping the dried blood from his face. The greenish-brown bruise under his left eye is swollen. A dark circle is forming under his right eye. His bottom lip is busted and puffy. The knuckles of his right hand are swollen, the skin tinged purple and yellow.
What the hell happened after I left?
I bite my lip and watch him attempt to stop the bleeding.
Do I go back to the wedding?
Do I sit?
Why is this so complicated!?
Every moment has led up to this. I’ve tried to convince myself I don’t want Beau. Tried to forget him. To lock all the pain and hurt and love away. But I don’t have the strength to fight how I feel anymore. I slide down the wall and sit beside him.
Fighting the burning sensation building up inside me, I close my eyes. A hand reaches over and rests on my knee. The touch sends a tingle to my core.
I hate him.
Scratch that. I want to hate him, but I can’t because I love him too much.
We ignore the stares of the patrons who pass by. Their eyes judge Beau for his bruises and blood-stained shirt and me for sitting next to him.
I can already imagine the stories these people will tell, how I’m rebelling against my family with this crazy, bloody man. Or maybe they’ll say that I brought an uncivilized beast to my brother’s wedding to spite Tristan. Their words will be amusing, but those people don’t matter. I could care less what my mother’s so-called friends think of me anymore.
“I am sorry,” Beau suddenly says.
I laugh. A stupid nervous laugh. “I need you to be more specific. Why are you here?”
Beau’s hand slides from my knee up my thigh, finding my fingers and intertwine with mine. Three quick squeezes is all it takes for my heart to flutter and my walls to come crashing down again.
“Mallory, I was an asshole. No, I am an asshole.” Two fingers reach out to my chin and turn my head. Forcing me to look at him. “I should have been more understanding. I get it now. Things were moving too fast this summer and I should have been giving you my undivided attention at the mudhole.”
I sit in silence.
Beau keeps going, “I acted like a child after you left, pushing everyone away all because I didn’t know how to fix things with the only person I’ve ever loved.”
I shake my head. “You don’t love me, Beau.”
He rests his hand on top of my shaking hand. When did they start shaking? Stupid nerves.
“Baby, I think I’ve loved you from the first day I met you. I was just too stupid to understand what I was feeling.” Beau squeezes my hand. “When I lost you the second time, Rob literally kicked my ass.” He points to the bruising near his eye. “Kevin might have gotten a swing in too. I think they like you more than me.”
Rob is good peoples. Kevin too. I owe them each a fifth of Jack for coming to my defense. I laugh and choke back my tears at the same time. “Of course they do. I’m the pretty one.” I try to hide my smile, but Beau’s grin says enough. He saw it.
“Rob said if I let you walk out of my life again, you’d be gone for good and Mallory, I can’t live without you. I tried for eight weeks and my world fell apart. So, I grabbed the next flight, and here I am.”
I don’t know what to say. So, I don’t say anything.
“You don’t have to move back to Georgia. We can do long distance if you want. Or maybe I can move down here. I don’t know.”
He takes both my hands. “I don’t know how to make this work, and frankly, I don’t care. But, baby. I want to be with you. Please take me back. I promise I’ll spend every day reminding you how sorry I am and showing you how much I love you.”
Beau wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. It feels so good to be back in his arms. Like home. The burning inside me is too much. I can’t keep them back anymore.
Stupid tears.
I shake my head. “No.”
Beau rears back. His big brown eyes glassy and bloodshot.
Is he crying too?
“No?”
“No,” I say again. “I don’t want to be long distance.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ll come back to Georgia.”
“God, I love you,” Beau says more to himself than to me.
My heart’s about to beat out of my chest. “You’re a jackass.” He nods. “But I love you too.”
Beau stares at me, all wide-eyed and jaw-dropped. His lips crash against mine. We tumble on the floor, not giving a damn who sees us. When Beau pulls back his lips, pink and puffy from kissing me, curl into a smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy
.
“I’ll move to Georgia on one condition,” I say.
“What’s that?”
I smile. “You be my date to the wedding. Bloody shirt and all.”
“Done.”
Beau brushes my tears away with his thumb. I lean into the hard, calloused hand that cradles my cheek. He pulls my face into his, pressing his soft lips against mine again. The kiss is fierce but gentle. He kisses me like he’s afraid he may never kiss me again, like he really does love me. The butterflies I thought had died deep down in my stomach flutter to life again. Beau pulls back, gasping for air.
“Wow,” I whisper.
Closing my eyes, I press my forehead against Beau’s and enjoy the moment.
He’s mine again.
And me? I’ve always been his.
Beau wraps his arms around my waist.
I look up and ask, “You ready to face the wolves?”
Beau stands and holds out a hand for me. “Baby, I was born ready.”
I can’t help the huge grin on my face. I take his hand, and we set off to face my family. Together.
The End
Sneak Peek of the next Georgia Boy’s Novel
Come A Little Closer
Chapter 1
Kevin
Lips. Full and stained a deep shade of purple. That’s all that’s on my mind. Her sloppy, wet lips on mine and if I can get to Rob’s bedroom fast enough, those lips will be doing more than just kissing. I don’t remember her name, Mary or possibly Marie...something like that. It doesn’t matter, I’ll call her Babe and she’ll love it. They always do.
Backing Babe through the bedroom doorway, my shoulder brushes against someone with enough force that it shoves them a step to their right.
My bad.
My eyes flick over to the person that I just bumped into.
“Sorry,” I mumble, with Babe’s lips still pressing against mine.
“It’s fine,” a quiet voice says.
I push Babe further into the bedroom and then against the bathroom door. Her head hits the wood with a thud, she giggles. The sound is as fake as she is, but I’m not here for her personality.
I pepper her neck with kisses, then sink my teeth into her shoulder. Babe moans, so I bite harder and suck on her tanning-bed-tanned-skin, determined to leave some colors of my own.
My lips pave a path back up Babe’s neck to her mouth. I close my eyes, letting myself become more vested in the kiss. Trying to become vested in her.
Red.
The person I bumped into a minute ago was a girl. A girl with red hair. My eyes snap open. My heart skips a beat, although after nearly ten years it should know not to. It’s never her, but my heart has a mind of its own. It’s cruel and cold to every girl. Every girl but Red.
I close my eyes again and try to focus on the girl in front of me but my mind is elsewhere. Consumed by Red again. A color that’s never the right shade—strawberry, fire engine, deep auburn, but never my red.
With a grunt, I pull back. Babe opens her hooded eyes. She bites her bottom lip and reaches behind her for the bathroom door’s handle.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
I press my lips into a line and hold up one finger. Babe pouts but nods, reluctantly. I back-pedal through the bedroom doorway and peer into the kitchen. A few feet to my left, is the girl I bumped into. I can’t see her face from where I’m standing, but I can see her hair. Long, scarlet locks fall just beneath her shoulders, almost touching the seam of her tie-dye spaghetti-strap shirt. The same spaghetti-strap shirt that exposes a small strip of porcelain skin on her lower back because it’s an inch short of reaching her black skinny-jeans.
Something about Red feels familiar and the thought that this could be her shoots a flame through my veins that makes my palms sweat. I wipe them on my pants, then walk over to her.
Red’s leaning against a wall that’s supposed to separate the kitchen from the living room; but at some point, someone decided to cut that wall out. However, that person was an idiot because there was a support beam smack dab in the middle. So, now Rob and Jess have this awkward wannabe wall, that’s only about two feet wide, hanging out between their living room and their kitchen. It’s this wannabe wall that Red is leaning against, people watching.
I come up on the right, stopping dangerously close to Red. She smells sweet, like strawberries and a flame ignites inside me. I’m instantly taken back to the tree house and to the girl who stole my heart ten years ago. I shake my head and push the memories away.
“Hey.” I say, flashing a smile that usually makes girls melt on the spot.
Red turns her head, her emerald green eyes shine like a lighter in the dark against her pale skin. The corner of her lips turn up. “Hi.”
“Sorry about a minute ago. I didn’t see you there.”
Red raises an eyebrow at me. “You left the girl you were playing tonsil hockey with to apologize, again?”
I chuckle.
Tonsil hockey?
Who says things like that anymore?
“Yeah, I guess I did. You look familiar. Did we hook up once?”
Red’s cheeks flush crimson as she takes a sip from her pink Solo cup. She shakes her head. Her hair has a mind of its own, bouncing wildly from the movement. “Nope. Not unless you count the time you kissed me when we were twelve.”
Twelve? She must have me confused with someone else.
“Keviiiin,” Babe cries from the bathroom, “are you coming?”
Nope.
“Hang on a sec,” I holler, not bothering to turn my head in the direction of Babe’s voice.
“Listen lady, there’s only one girl I kissed when I was twelve, and she wasn’t you.” Red flashes a smile, and it lights me up from the inside out.
“Are you sure about that?” she asks.
Her words make me swallow wrong and I spend a solid thirty seconds choking on my spit.
She couldn’t be... Could she?
“There you are!” Mallory stumbles her way over and links her arm with Red’s. Her head falls against Red’s shoulder, as if they’ve been friends for years. I watch them interact in a way that only girls do. There’s something about Red. I can’t put my finger on it, but she’s…different. Familiar. Comforting.
“Kevin,” Mallory says in a sing-song voice. “Are you bothering my new friend?”
I want to bother her.
Play it cool man.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Red rolls her eyes and fights a half grin.
Mallory giggles. “Well, you can’t have Sophie. She’s my friend and I don’t want you scaring her off with your gigolo-like ways.”
Her name is Sophie? I’m not a man who gets butterflies, but every ounce of me flutters like a love struck teenager. It has to be a coincidence. There’s no way that my Sophie has come back. It’s been almost ten years.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Red says to Mallory. “He’s got some babe waiting for him back there.”
Red’s thumb hitches behind her, to the bedroom doorway. I’d almost forgotten about Babe. I walk over to where I left her and peer into the dimly lit room.
As I’m coming back into the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks. Recognition hits me like a ten pound sack of bricks. Those piercing green eyes. That shy smile. The barely noticeable freckles hidden underneath makeup on her nose. My breath catches and I can’t contain my smile.
“Sophie!” I say a little too loudly, not bothering to hide my excitement.
Mallory’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with confusion. I close the distance between us in record time and slide my arms around Sophie’s waist, pulling her away from Mallory and into me. I hug Sophie close to my body, lifting her off her feet, spinning her around. She lets out a deep belly laugh. I swear, the sound penetrates my soul. Every childhood memory I’ve tried to forget is dredged up all at once. I hold Sophie’s body against mine as I set her on her feet again, not ready to let her go.
; Sophie looks up at me, still laughing, eyes twinkling. “I was wondering if you’d remember me.”
Remember you? How could I forget you? You were my first kiss. The girl I always thought I’d to lose my virginity to. If twelve year-olds could love, you were it for me. But then you moved away. I exhale through my nose, realizing I can’t say any of that.
“Of course I remember you. I just didn’t recognize you, that’s all.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Sophie says, raising her eyebrows at me.
Someone clears their throat. The sound makes me hyperaware of the proximity of our bodies. I take a step back, creating more space between Sophie and I than I’d like. Mallory glares at us with her arms crossed, tapping her left foot.
“Would someone please explain, what’s going on?” Mallory asks.
Before I can answer, Beau sneaks up behind Mallory and swoops her into his arms. She laughs, swatting at him until he lets her go.
“Beau! Don’t do that!” she whines playfully, “I’m trying to be angry. Kevin just got all excited and sappy over Sophie and I want to know why.”
Beau’s gaze snaps up. His eyes bounce between Red and me.
“Sophie?” he asks.
I nod, my pulse starting to thrum to life again.
Beau steps around Mallory to hug Sophie, but Mallory pulls at the back of his shirt. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Not touching.”
Sophie laughs and her nose crinkles. I resist the urge to smile because I can tell that I’m already falling for her all over again.
“Seriously guys! What’s going on?” Mallory stomps her foot like a pouting four year old.
Now that Mallory and Beau aren’t stupidly breaking each other’s hearts, Mallory’s transitioned from a crying-angry drunk to an emotional but happy drunk. It took some getting used to, but I like her better this way. Truth be told, I think everyone does.
Beau drapes his arm around Mallory’s shoulder. “Babe, this is Sophie. We were friends back in the day. That is, until she and her mom moved away to live with her grandma and never came back.”
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