Beard in Mind (Winston Brothers #4)

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft.

My heart thumped wildly as I changed. I stole glances at her long form, the curve of her hip, her neck, the strands of curls that had pulled free from the braid crowning her head and now cascaded down her back.

I like it a lot when you touch me.

You can touch me whenever you want.

I'd like to have sex with you.

I suspected that we could skip dinner, proceed straight to the physical portion of the evening, and she wouldn’t complain.

But honestly, I would.

I liked this woman. I liked her a lot. I liked her maybe too much, and perhaps I was putting the cart of turnips before the horse.

Settle down, Beau. She’s not going anywhere. Take your time.

I’d just pulled on my shirt when a knock sounded on the office door. Shelly’s head turned toward it, then to me in question.

I shrugged, because it wasn’t like Cletus to knock before he entered a room. He was the bursting in, paying no mind to peoples’ privacy or wishes type. At least he was at the house.

My shirt half-buttoned, I called, “Come on in, Cletus.”

The door opened and I stiffened, my fingers fumbling on the next button. The man standing in the doorway wasn’t Cletus, but I recognized him immediately.

He was Quinn, Shelly’s brother, and he was conducting a sweep of the office as though looking for threats.

“Hey there, Quinn.” Recovering quickly, I stepped forward, reaching a hand out to the big man. I’d recalled him being tall, but I didn’t remember him being this tall.

His eyes came to rest on me and they were exactly the same shape and color as Shelly’s, which I then labeled disconcerting aqua.

“Beau,” he said, low and grumbly, taking my hand easily and giving it a firm shake. “The door downstairs was locked. I walked around the back and let myself in.”

“That’s fine,” I said easily, even though I got the sense he wasn’t asking for permission so much as gently reprimanding me for having lax security.

And how did he know I was Beau and not Duane?

“You’re welcome anytime. How’s Janie?”

He did another quick once-over of the office—me included—until his eyes came to rest on his sister. Shifting back, I glanced between the two of them, seeing more than a family resemblance. They shared the same sharp angles, high cheekbones, symmetrical features, and hair color.

Shelly stared at her brother steadily, but made no move to embrace him. Or greet him. Or otherwise welcome the big man.

While she stared, Quinn studied her from head to toe, as though taking stock of goods rather than a person.

“Janie and Des are great,” he answered finally.

“Des?”

His attention returned to me. “Our son.”

“Y’all had a baby?” My grin was automatic. Babies were definitely something to grin about.

He nodded once, his eyes flickering to Shelly and then back to me. “A few months ago.”

“That’s so great. Congratulations. Jethro and Sienna are expecting in the spring.” After I volunteered this last bit of information, I cringed at my loose tongue. “Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. They’re trying to keep it quiet until after the wedding.”

Jethro and Sienna were keeping their happy news on the down-low. My brother had just recently told us but no one else was supposed to know.

“Don’t worry about it. I already knew. Congratulations to your family.” He said this evenly and genuinely enough, but his tone held an edge of reserve, distance.

“Why’re you here?” Shelly finally spoke, though she didn’t move otherwise. Had it been prior to last night’s revelations, I would have presumed she was unhappy to see her brother. But now I saw her stillness as something quite different.

She was happy to see him, I could tell by how her eyes hadn’t left his face since he’d walked in. She drank in his presence, basked in it, even as she held herself away.

But she was also frustrated and anxious, and because of her confession yesterday, I now understood why.

Quinn inspected his sister for a long moment, and then gathered a deep breath. “We need to talk. Privately.”

“Okay.” She nodded, agreeing immediately and grabbing her bag from where it sat next to her feet. “We can go.”

My eyes widened and a protest was on the tip of my tongue, but then good sense had me biting back the words.

What was I going to do? Contradict the woman? Remind her that we had plans? Demand she see to her brother later?

No. That way was nonsense, and I’d been raised better than that. He’d flown from Chicago, needing to speak with her privately. There was no call to insert myself.

That said, good sense might have prevailed, but good sense didn’t mean her apparent disregard for our plans—and me—without a thought or hesitation, didn’t ruffle my feathers any. No excuse, soft words or promises, a suggestion of a raincheck, not even a look. It was like I’d ceased to exist.

It was her indifference that stung.

Shelly hurried to the door as I backed away, my shoulders coming to rest on the lockers as I waited for them to leave.

A fair amount of surly disappointment must’ve been visible on my features because Quinn frowned at my expression, his hawkish eyes narrowing and sliding from me to his sister, and then back again.

“Did I . . . interrupt something?”

Shelly started, her gaze coming to mine, her lips parting like she was about to speak or she was caught off guard by my presence. It was as if she’d forgotten I was there. Or maybe she hadn’t forgotten, but had grown too distracted and absorbed in the shock of seeing her brother that I had completely faded to the background.

“No.” I shook my head, giving Quinn a mollifying smile and waving them off. “Not at all.” Then to Shelly, I gave a single nod. “See you at work.”

Shelly twisted her fingers, fiddled with the strap of her bag, her glare intense. She took a breath as though to speak, but instead snapped her mouth shut. Abruptly, she turned and disappeared down the stairs.

My eyes moved to Quinn. He watched me.

“Have nice night,” I offered easily enough, swallowing bitterness that tasted like disillusionment.

“You, too.” His tone was distracted, conflicted, like he didn’t know whether to stay and question me, or follow his sister.

With one final assessing squint, he turned, left, and shut the door quietly behind him.





16





“No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness.”

― Aristotle



*Shelly*



The first thing I said to Dr. West on Friday was, “Quinn visited me.” Even though what I really wanted to talk about was how horrible I’d been to Beau.

“What? When?”

“Wednesday. He showed up after work.” I took the seat across from her, noting that the air purifier was turned off.

“How is he?”

“I don’t know.” Quinn was better at hiding his thoughts and feelings than I was. “He seemed happy when he talked about Janie and the baby.”

“Did you embrace him?”

“No. I tried to, a few times, but I couldn’t. Every time I got close, I choked.” I breathed out a laugh.