I don’t know a single person who guards his peace quite like Jasper.
Cade steps up, tugging me into a rough hug. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s a little choked up. “Was gonna give you shit for no-showing on me today when we had fences down and broken waterers. But if you were celebrating this, I’ll let it slide. Back to reality tomorrow, though.”
I grunt, slap his back, and roll my eyes. Only Cade, the grumpy workaholic, could turn congratulations into both a scolding and a reality check. “Fucking buzzkill,” I grumble back at him, laughing when I see his lips twitch.
“Beau-Beau!” Rhett moves in front of me, a shit-eating grin on his scruffy face, long brown hair dusting his shoulders. “Is this why you keep taking off on us? To hide away with the missus?”
I scrub at my beard. I knew my brothers would razz me, and I knew Rhett would be the worst after all the shit I’ve given him over the years. Fake hitting on his girl, ditching him at the scene of a crime, tattling on him every time he gets into trouble.
Yeah, his eyes are alight with all the possibilities for payback right now.
However, it’s Bailey who throws me under the bus. She has my head spinning like a top when from beside me she says, “Yeah, Beau-Beau likes to sit at my bar and watch me work all night.”
Rhett’s eyes glimmer even more with delight. I didn’t think it was possible, but here we are. He grins at Bailey, who wears a tentative smile and a light blush. The soft summer breeze moves her hair, stray strands whipping against the deep tan on her cheeks.
“That’s fucking adorable,” my brother says, disbelief seeping into his tone as he glances between us.
I reach for her hand without even thinking. And it’s not for show. Or not in the way I thought it would be. It’s not like I feel the need to convince my family I like Bailey—I already do like Bailey.
I want to show her off. I want to prove to her that life can be a little lighter than what she’s experienced. That not everyone looks at her and sees what she thinks they do.
I squeeze once, twice, and when she finally tilts her head my way, it’s with a saucy expression on her face. A look she’s comfortable giving me. Because I’m not sure what she expected. Everyone to freak out? Be mean? Call her trash and try to rescue me from her?
No, that’s not my family.
“God, look at you two. How did I miss this? Bailey’s been our server at The Railspur for the last couple of years now.” Rhett still can’t get over it.
Jasper takes a swig of his beer and regards me carefully. Not judgmentally, as if he’s trying to work things out. “Well, he has always jumped to her defense,” he says. “And he stood at her bar for your entire wedding reception.” I think that might be as much as I’ll get from him tonight. I can tell he’s suspicious.
Rhett’s brows furrow at me. “You did? I didn’t even notice. You’ve been such a grumpy bitch lately, kinda got used to ignoring you. But, dang, I did not see this coming.”
Summer elbows Rhett and gives him a scolding, wide-eyed warning, signaling him to be quiet. It’s a prime example of how everyone has been walking on eggshells around me. Treating me like I might break if they nudge me too hard.
The ribbing feels good.
“What?” Rhett gives his wife the same look back. “He has been a grumpy bitch. And now he rolls in all surprise we’re Beau-Bailey now! Sue me for not seeing this coming.”
Bailey giggles and coughs to cover it.
“Beau-Bailey.” My dad laughs, stepping close to sling an arm over my shoulders. Everyone watches him with bated breath. He has a knack for saying inappropriate shit at the most awkward times. I suppose it’s part of his charm. “Sounds like a Disney movie about two golden retrievers who fall in love. Happy for you, son.”
Jasper holds a fist over his mouth, and Willa bites furiously at her lips, trying not to laugh.
“Sorry, what was that, Dad?” I choke out.
“Beau and Bailey. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re nice names, but together they sound like good pet names. If you have a kid, let’s avoid naming it Comet, yeah?”
I groan and tip my head back. Compared to my brothers, I’m rarely on the receiving end of the Harvey ridiculousness they get.
I’m about to apologize to Bailey, but she laughs.
Not fake awkward laughter. Laughter the way it sounds when Gary says something stupid to her. Laughter the way it sounds when I test the waters with a ridiculous nickname.
Then she steps into my side and buries her head against my ribs. Like she feels at home with me.
People crack jokes around us, and their attention shifts. We’re still standing in the middle of the deck, but people seem to be retreating to their corners, back to their conversations. They’re settling back into the pre-dinner vibe as if nothing out of the ordinary happened here tonight.
I suppose if Winter can announce her baby daddy at dinner, this might not seem so interesting after all.
When I curl an arm around Bailey’s petite frame, her doll-like face tips up to mine. Eyes round, lashes long, lips distractingly plush. “Did I do okay?” she whispers, hand fisting the back of my shirt.
I lean down over her, granting us some privacy. She doesn’t pull away. Our eyes lock, breaths intertwined. My muscles bunch as I force myself to resist lifting her up and carrying her the hell out of here to have her all to myself.
“You were perfect.” Our lips graze—barely a touch—as the words leave my mouth. I move mere inches to the left, pressing a very real kiss to the corner of her mouth, missing her lips entirely.
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.
“What are you doing?”
My head snaps toward Bailey’s trailer as I drop to sit on the steps that lead off my back porch and down to the river. “Sitting on my deck.” I don’t need the sun to be out to know from here that she just rolled her eyes at me. “How about you?”
She hikes a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s hot in the Boiler tonight.”
I snort. The Boiler. “Cute play on Boler. My house has air conditioning.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” she volleys back.
I guess me sitting on my back porch in the middle of the night makes it obvious. But I don’t add that the second my clock flicks over to 2:11, my body violently wrenches itself from sleep.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Are we just going to yell at each other from across the yard?” I prop my elbows on my knees, my body looking more casual than how I feel inside. “Seems kinda weird for an engaged couple.”
She snorts this time, then stands and pads across the dew-soaked grass toward me. I watch her feet, the way they roll against the ground. The red polish on her toes. The smooth skin that flows up over toned calves.
I’m still staring at her feet when she plops down beside me. “It’s rude to stare, Beau-Beau.”
My lips curve as I lift my gaze up to hers. “A man can stare at his fiancée, can’t he, sugar tits?”
Her hand darts up to tuck the curtain of dark hair behind her ear. “Fake fiancée,” she clarifies, glancing down at my feet.
All I respond with is a low hum. I don’t know Bailey all that well, but I know the agreement we reached. Still, I find myself agitated by the word fake.
But I’m easily agitated these days.
Sleep would help.
“Can I touch them?”
I start, yanked out of my spiraling train of thought. “Touch what?”
Bailey juts her chin at the step below us. “Your feet.”
I gaze down. Next to each other, my feet look so fucked-up where hers are so … perfect. Aesthetically, I don’t care. Kinda figured being a soldier would scar me along the way.
It’s the contrast that strikes me, though. And it’s more than just our skin.