“I’ve got nothing against a male stripper, Roscoe. But I didn’t want a stripper to begin with, and I definitely didn’t want an eighty-five-year-old stripper named George.”
“You forget that he’s a retired Navy SEAL. And he rappelled from the ceiling like a badass.” Roscoe’s eyes brightened with amusement, but he kept his face straight otherwise.
“I did not forget either of those facts.” Jethro’s voice was deadpan as he glared at Roscoe.
“Come on now, Jethro.” I shoved his shoulder. “You’re just sore ’cause he put you in a headlock.”
“With his legs,” Drew added good-naturedly.
Duane looked at me again, and then cast his eyes to the ground once more. But his shaking shoulders gave him away.
“I’m leaving.” Jethro threw his hands in the air and stalked toward his car. “I need four showers and a bath.”
We all laughed then—Drew, Roscoe, Duane, and I. Even Billy cracked a smile.
Despite being exhausted, and despite seeing what my testicles might become in another sixty years, I decided it had been a good day.
Nevertheless, something was missing.
Which was why, after dropping my brothers off at the house, I couldn’t sleep. Deciding not to fight against the urge, I dressed quickly and drove to Shelly’s.
And so here I was, taking off my shoes in her living room and stripping down to my boxers. I hadn’t thought to bring pajamas and I didn’t want to rifle through the bag I still had in her room.
Walking as quietly as I could, I slipped into her room. Something in me settled at the sight of her—an enigmatic wildness, a hunger.
Appeased, I climbed into bed and smoothed my hand from her shoulder down the length of her arm, to tangle our fingers together.
“Beau,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
“Shelly.”
“Take off your boxers.”
I smirked. “How do you know I’m wearing boxers?”
“You always wear clothes to bed, and then I always have to take them off. Just . . . sleep naked.” She said this last part around a yawn, turning and taking my hand with her.
“I need my hand to remove my boxers.”
“Fine,” she groaned. “Then you have to give it back.”
Shaking my head at a sleepy Shelly, I quickly divested myself of my boxers and slid back in bed, being the big spoon to her smaller one.
Though I loved holding her, I wished she was facing me. She was so lovely when she slept, this woman of mine. Maybe it made me a creeper, but I wanted a picture of her sleeping.
But I also wanted a picture of her scowling, smiling, laughing, and staring daggers at me. I wanted a picture of all her faces, just as she was now, so I could remember how I fell in love with the spectrum of that face, and the complex woman behind it.
* * *
I woke up to light touches—fingers moving through my hair and lips moving over my face—and I smiled.
“Good morning, Beau.”
My smile grew. “Good morning, Shelly.”
“Why do you have glitter in your hair?”
I frowned, because I didn’t know. But then I remembered and groaned. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do want to know. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
Opening one eye, I spotted her above me. She was wearing pajamas—sadly—and her eyes were wide with curiosity. “Cletus hired a retired Navy SEAL, who happened to be eighty years old or more, to strip for Jethro at his bachelor party.”
Her brow wrinkled. “But where did the glitter come from?”
I chuckled, because of course nothing about an eighty-year-old stripper, or the fact that he was a Navy SEAL, would eclipse the fact that I hadn’t answered her original question.
“Cletus gave us each an envelope, said it was a surprise, but they turned out to be glitter bombs.”
“Why would he do that?”
I lifted the hem of her shirt, wanting the silk of her skin. “Because he’s Cletus.”
“Hmm . . .” She gave me a quick kiss. “How have you been?”
I opened both my eyes, and sighed, sliding my hand under her tank top and around to her back. “Missing you. A lot has happened.”
“What?’
“I made a decision about Duane. I’m going to tell him.”
Her features grew soft, concerned. “What made you decide?”
I gave her the gist of it, about Cletus and Jenn and how that situation resolved itself. Then I explained as much as I could about Cletus’s leverage over the Wraiths without telling her anything that might incriminate her if the truth came out. Then I told her about our brother who’d died.
She sucked in a breath, gripping her chest. “That’s terrible news.”
“It made me realize that I needed to tell Duane. He deserves to know.”
“Okay, okay. Let me know how I can support you.” She looked so earnest, so determined.
“I will, thank you. The plan is to tell him today.” Absentmindedly, I sketched the curve of her waist, tugging back her pajama bottoms to reveal the smooth skin of her hip.
She appeared to be surprised by this news. “Why today? Why not wait until after the wedding?”
“You think I should wait?”
“No, not at all. I just wanted to know why you want to do it so soon.”
“Because Claire will be there, at the wedding. I don’t want to ambush her, but . . .”
“You want to tell her, too.”
“I do.” I leaned forward, placing a soft kiss against her neck. “And Duane is leaving next Thursday. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back. If I don’t act soon, then the three of us will miss a chance.”
She nodded, her fingers threading into my hair. “That makes sense. Just let me know what I can do.”
“You’re still coming?”
“Yes, I said I would.” She ran her knuckles along the side of my beard. “I like how this feels. It’s both scratchy and soft.”
That made me grin. “I’m glad you’re coming to the wedding and I’m glad you like my beard.”
“It’s a magnificent beard. You should always have it, so I can always touch it.” She leaned away and inspected me. “You still look tired. Do you want to go on a run? Or do you want to sleep?”
Judging from the light outside, it was much later that her usual 6:00 AM run time.
“You haven’t gone on your run yet?”
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I decided to sleep in.”
“You slept in?”
“No. I lay next to you while you slept in so I could keep touching you.”
“Ah. I see.” I liked the sound of that.
“Run?”
Since I’d been out half the night, assaulted by a senior citizen posing as a stripper, I decided rest was in my best interest. “Sleep.”
“Okay, then . . . shower?”
My grin widened. “Yes, please.”
She nodded, giving me one of her almost smiles, and then stood and moved to her dresser.
I watched her dress. I admired her long legs and torso as she removed her clothes, growing hot around my neck as her breasts were revealed, losing my breath as she bent over. Physically, the woman was a goddess, and she didn’t seem to care.
Of course she didn’t care.