It would be so easy to look at her and only ever see the shell, be blinded by her form. But her flaws, her resilience in the face of her struggles, her strength of character and honor, that’s what made her who she was.
She was exquisite to me and I loved her because I knew her. And I felt sorry for everyone else who wouldn’t be able to look beyond her exterior to the true beauty within.
So, yeah, I admired her body as she slipped on workout clothes, I thought about all the ways I would make her come when she returned, and I mourned the loss of her skin as she covered it. I watched her until she left the room. But when she was gone, I missed her.
So I grabbed Shelly’s pillow and rolled to my side, giving myself a mental high five for coming over last night.
Best decision ever.
Surrounded by her scent, I’d just started drifting back to sleep when Shelly burst back into the room.
“Beau!” Her voice was a harsh whisper. “Beau!”
“Yes, yes. I’m up.” I forced my eyes open.
“Beau. Quinn is here.”
I jerked, now completely awake. “What?”
“My brother. He’s here. With Janie. And Desmond.” Suddenly, she clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes huge and frightened, like she just remembered something terrifying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I sat up, my heart in my throat. “Are you okay?”
“All of those sentences were even numbered.”
31
“The bravest people are the ones who don’t mind looking like cowards.”
― T.H. White, The Once and Future King
* * *
*Beau*
I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her into a hug. The terrified look on her face had me thinking the worst.
She pushed against me. “We don’t have time for a hug. Quinn and Janie and Desmond are out there, and—”
“One thing at a time.” I held her tighter. “How can I help you? What do you say or do when you need to push through your fears?”
She shook her head, her body stiff, but then she recited on a rush, “Thinking that a person is prone toward violence because of the number of words in their sentences is irrational. I will face this irrational fear and conquer it. I am in control of my actions. I’m not violent.”
I kept her in my arms and we breathed together, her body relaxing by degrees. Eventually, her arms came around me and she buried her face in my neck.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry.”
“No need for an apology.” I kissed her temple. “To be honest, I’m feeling a little panicked myself.”
She leaned away, keeping her hands on me but tilting her chin back. “What? Why?”
“Not going to lie, Quinn scares me a little.”
Shelly smiled, shaking her head. She gathered my face between her palms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Oh my God, I love you.”
Now I stiffened.
She loves me?
Catching her by the arms, I gently forced her away so I could see her eyes. “You love me?”
“Yes.” She said it quickly, like she was suddenly remembering she loved me. “I love you!”
“Did you forget to tell me?”
“No. I didn’t forget. You were asleep.”
“You figured it out while I was asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Last night?”
“No.” She wiggled out of my grip, glancing quickly over her shoulder.
“Shelly.”
“Monday night, okay?” She was backing away, heading for the door. “You need to get dressed.”
Now I did scowl at her. “You forgot to tell me.”
“I did not forget to tell you, I forgot not to tell you.”
“What?”
She was making no sense.
“I decided I wasn’t going to tell you until later. I wanted to make it special, okay?” She pointed at me, waving her finger around. “Put clothes on, come out, say hi.”
And with that, she slipped out of the room, leaving me naked in her bed wearing nothing but a smile.
Again.
* * *
“Hello, Beau.”
“Quinn.” I nodded once and didn’t grimace, even though Quinn’s handshake was more like a vise grip of thinly veiled aggression than a friendly hello.
I was especially impressed because, while he crushed my bones with his right hand, he held his infant son in his left. That’s some serious multitasking.
“Hi, Beau.” Quinn’s wife Janie stepped between us, forcing her husband to release my hand. She put a hand on my shoulder and brought me forward for a kiss on the cheek. Her greeting was a lot friendlier.
Then again, I hadn’t just come out of her sister’s bedroom.
But then she said, “The average woman uses her height in lipstick every five years. I’m not wearing any lipstick because I ran out of time this morning and I have none in the diaper bag, but I am wearing ChapStick. There is no official fear of wearing ChapStick, but the fear of kissing is called philemaphobia. And cherophobia is the fear of fun.”
I nodded politely, remembering that Ashley had said Janie Sullivan was a little odd. Not Shelly odd, a different kind, where she’d randomly start quoting little known facts. I reckoned she read a lot of books.
“What’s with the glitter?” Quinn lifted his chin to my hair, his tone flat.
“Cletus. He glitter-bombed us last night at Jethro’s bachelor party.”
Quinn’s features were impassive, but he said, “I like your brother Cletus.”
“He certainly is something else.” My friendly smile didn’t waver, but on the inside I was frowning. I was frowning intensely.
I was going to have to move a mountain to get this guy to like me. So be it.
After Shelly left the bedroom earlier, I’d gone through my stuff, looking for something decent to wear. All I had were jeans and T-shirts, so I picked the least worn of each and pulled them on. Then I put on socks. My momma always said you should meet a guest in shoes, family in socks, and friends in bare feet.
I don’t know why she said this, but it stuck with me.
Shelly rushed into the room, her attention flicking to the baby in Quinn’s arms, then to her sister-in-law. “I have your coffee. It’s in the kitchen.”
“Oh. Should I drink it in the kitchen?” Janie shifted her weight, like she was going to follow Shelly.
“I can bring it out here,” Shelly offered, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, I should have brought it out here.”
“I can go get it,” Janie offered, taking a step forward.
“No. I’ll bring it. You stay there.” As she turned away I thought I heard her mumble, “Bags, coats, drinks, day. Bags, coats, drinks, day.”
Returning my attention to Quinn, I found him watching me with a glare of suspicion. “How old are you?”
I reared back an inch, but then quickly recovered, giving him my most affable shrug and an answer meant to distract. “I was born during the war.”
“Which war?”
Shelly rushed back into the room. “Here is your coffee.”
“Thank you.” Janie accepted it with a warm smile. “I’ve allowed myself to have a cup a day.”
“Oh, then don’t drink that.” Shelly took the cup out of Janie’s hands just as the woman was taking her first sip. “It’s not as good as Daisy’s coffee. We should go there.”
Shelly bolted out of the room before Janie could protest. The redhead glanced at her husband, giving him a distressed look.