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The new Beau sits at the bar with the shy neighbor girl, who wears a pair of acid-wash Levi’s better than anyone he’s ever seen.
I’m sick of people talking to me, but it strikes me that listening to Bailey talk might not be so bad.
Her eyes, that one little word—it . . . makes my blood pump faster. It makes me feel something in a sea of numbness.
“That’s not true.” “What part?” “People thinking that about you.” “Ha!” The laugh lurches from my throat, sharp and lacking any humor. “That is adorably naive,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “Well, I don’t see you that way.”
One who starts pulling up a stool every Sunday through Tuesday to drink chamomile tea until midnight, so I don’t have to close by myself.
Beau: Willa doesn’t run my show. Cade: You must be new here. Willa runs everyone’s show.
“No chamomile tea. But you look like you could use a pick-me-up.” She slides a glass of Coca-Cola in front of me, not realizing that she’s the pick-me-up.
“If we’re struggling, we’re still in motion, yeah? Heading somewhere better. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.”
“People won’t believe this.” “Why not?” “Because you’re like town royalty. And you’re . . . how old are you? You’d never go for me.” Wrong.
Some people might consider it a mistake. Some people can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. But I did it on purpose. I did it to plant a seed. I did it because I don’t think I want the first time we kiss to be fake.
“Not a big fan of sharing something once I decide it’s mine.”
Cade: Yeah, and I sign your paycheck. I think you’re gonna need it to pay off that ring. Or did you skip work to go mine it yourself? Beau: Worth it. Looks good on her.
Because no one has ever taken care of Bailey Jansen before. But I think it’s about time she got used to it.
“Bailey,” he murmurs against my damp, swollen lips. “You are doing nothing wrong. You have done nothing wrong. Anyone who talks shit about you is cruel and small-minded and not worthy of your attention. You are fucking perfect.”
“Hey, Beau?” “Yeah?” He turns, gripping his door handle. “Why’d you kiss me with no one here to see it?” The subtle smirk that plays across his lips makes my stomach flip. It’s full of promise, and sensuality, and experience. “Because I wanted to.”
“I know you’re scared of losing control around me.” Her chin tips up as though she’s told me something that will make me back down. Run me off. It doesn’t. “No, I’m scared of you becoming something I can’t live without.”
“New rule, Bailey.” He points at my left hand, slung over the edge of the tub, and then between my legs. “So long as you’re wearing that ring, this pussy is mine.”
I want to answer her question with the same kind of fervor and surety, but the only thing I can think is, “I want to be yours for real.”
To the girl I might spend a lifetime wishing I’d told this thing isn’t fake to me anymore.
“I’m done pretending to be head over heels in love with you because I’m legitimately head over heels in love with you. And acting like I’m not tears me up.”
“I love you, Bailey Jansen,” he murmurs, stroking my hair and licking gently over what I’m sure will be a bite mark tomorrow. And all I can do is smile. Because that was worth the wait. I have never felt more cherished than I do with Beau Eaton wrapped around me.
I think I’m still reeling. I think I’m overwhelmed. I think I’m in love with him too.
She smooths her hair, rubs at the corner of her eyes, and shimmies her shoulders back. “How do I look?” I stare at her for a few beats. What a woman. What an incredible fucking woman. She deserves the goddamn world. And I’m going to be the one to give it to her. “Like mine,” I say with a firm nod.
“You’re relentless, you know that?” And I just give her a salute and a wink. Because yeah, I am. No one has ever showed up for Bailey, but she’s about to get the full experience. “No, sugar. When it comes to you, I’m downright hopeless.”
