Beard Science (Winston Brothers #3)

“I’ll go say hi to the sheriff. I think I see him at the donations table with Judge Payton.” Jennifer tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders and set off. I turned my head to watch her go. I wanted to ensure she made it through the crowd without incident.

Then my eyes dropped to her shape, because—in this dress—her shape was on display. The indent of her waist was sharp, and the generous curve of her backside tapered to slim thighs and shapely calves. I couldn’t see her shoulders because she donned the shawl. The interesting black dress she wore had a band of black lace that began at the knee and ended an inch below it.

“Cletus?”

“Hmm?”

Nothing was provocative about the dress . . . and yet, everything was provocative about the dress.

“Cletus.”

“Yeah?”

It reminded me of lingerie, but I couldn’t quite figure out why.

“Cletus, stop staring at my date.”

I slid my eyes to Billy, who’d stepped next to me and stood at my shoulder. He appeared to be amused. I scowled at him, because what he’d just said earned a scowl.

“Come with me.” I tilted my head toward the blues room. The musicians were currently on break. Most of the audience had removed themselves to other places, leaving a sparse collection of stragglers and lonely instruments at the front.

I walked him to the far corner, turned on him, crossed my arms, and demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Billy lifted his left eyebrow at me, his eyes glowing with an unholy light, but otherwise his expression remained irritatingly enigmatic. He was the only one of my siblings I had trouble reading.

“I’m on a date.”

“No. Wrong answer. You’re not on a date.”

The smirk was back.

I ignored it.

“You had one job, Billy. One job.”

“Oh yeah? What was it again?”

I lowered my voice and made sure no one was eavesdropping before continuing. “Help Jennifer. Give her some confidence. Show her a good time.”

He scratched the back of his neck, still smirking. “Last time I checked, before you dragged me over here, we were doing just that.”

“Then why is she so nervous? Why is she doing that twisting thing with her fingers and giving me fake smiles?”

Billy’s smirk morphed into a grin, and he opened his mouth as though he was going to respond, but then stopped himself. His eyes darted between mine and he lowered his chin. He shook his head.

“Cletus,” he started, exhaled a gruff laugh, then returned his eyes to mine, his expression once again unreadable. “Jennifer is a sweet girl. But I’m not interested in Jennifer. And you know that. And that’s why you asked me for help.”

I examined my brother, knowing he was telling the truth, but unable to reconcile the truth with what I’d just witnessed. “Then don’t lead her on, Billy. Don’t call her gorgeous.”

“You don’t think she’s gorgeous?”

“Of course I think she’s gorgeous. I’m not blind, am I?”

“I don’t know, are you?” he asked, a ghost of a smirk behind his eyes.

I grunted and checked my watch. I was missing the bluegrass session. If I didn’t hurry, it would be over and I’d lose my chance to jam. I had the talent show in Nashville with Claire soon and improvising with the group today was important.

“Just promise me you’ll be nice to her.” I held up a warning finger in front of his face. “You be nice. This is a fake date and don’t let her forget it. I can’t help her if she’s mooning after your pedantically manicured beard-line and hipster hair.”

“She’s not mooning after me, Cletus,” he said flatly.

“Let’s keep it that way.” I administered a menacing eyebrow arch, preparing to leave, but then I remembered I needed to speak with Billy about another subject. “By the way, I have the entertainment for Jethro’s bachelor party all lined up.”

Billy’s expression didn’t change. He blinked at me once and made a sound of dissatisfaction in the back of his throat. “I can’t believe I agreed to your plan for the party. Can’t we just go with the original set-up: Beau’s scavenger hunt, drink whiskey, and burn stuff?”

“You’ll thank me later. And I’ll cherish the photos for the rest of our lives.” I turned, calling over my shoulder. “And, after this, no more dates with Jenn. Your call to service is over. I’ll take it from here.”

I didn’t wait to see if he would follow, but I kept my pace at a leisurely stroll. Though I was meandering back to Jennifer, I meandered with purpose. I felt the urge to reassure her. I also felt the urge to set my eyes on her and confirm Billy hadn’t done too much damage with his smooth compliments.

I saw the sheriff standing behind the donations table. A crowd blocked my view of the actual table, but the sheriff was a tall man, easy to spot. As I wove my way through the masses I decided it would be best to drive her home now. Or maybe I could take her to The Front Porch for steak and we could strategize. Billy wouldn’t mind.

But then I stopped short.

Jennifer was there, standing next to the sheriff right where she said she’d be. On her other side was a hovering Jackson James. He was talking at her. And smiling down at her. And standing too close.