Her heart had palpitations. Her fingers wrapped around the warm cup simply so she didn’t tremble. She stared at the beige coffee with steamed milk. “Do you want the list?”
He winked at her. One of his "not on purpose" winks, rather than his "I know I'm sexy and this works" one. “I love lists. They help me think clearly.”
This was how he worked and talked. He made a list, updated his list, and kept everything organized in a calendar. She tapped her cup with her fingernails and said, “Fine. Let’s talk in your language.”
He settled into his seat and sipped his cappuccino.
A few moments passed while she collected her thoughts and he broke the silence. “I’m waiting.”
She straightened in her chair and held his gaze. “One. I’m rude to you.”
He nodded his agreement. “You’re always ready to argue when you’re scared.”
Goosebumps grew on her arms. Did he see through her? Her walls were probably made of glass these days but it wasn’t for him to notice or say. She let the mug go and ate one of the cream puffs as she tried to calm down. Finished, she shook her head. “You think you know me so well.”
Beau leaned forward. “We’ve lived together for three months now.”
She scooted her chair away from the table, and those cream puffs. “So what? I lived with my family for ten years and they never noticed anything about me.”
He sipped his coffee as she gathered their empty plates and brought them to the sink. “Then they were the fools.”
Memories of her parents walking past her to get to her sister and hug Bianca replayed in her head.
Then her mind flashed to three months ago when her father and mother stood united holding the phone, telling her that they were calling the police and having her arrested for destruction of property that would land her in jail, before slickly offering her a choice to marry someone in prison instead. Acid grew in her throat as she wondered what she’d done to hurt them. She didn't look at Beau. “On that we agree.”
She finished the dishes and returned to see that he’d put a plate in front of her seat for the cream puffs.
Something sweet might stop the acid taste. Sarah sat and picked up her cappuccino as he said, “I understand that today was emotionally tiring for you. We can leave in the morning.”
Hoskell. Right. This far-off place was Beau’s next plan, possibly their final time together. She put her cup down. “No. I know you have a mission and are goal-oriented. I can sleep on the plane.”
He brushed his fingers against the back of her hand. “One more night isn’t going to make much of a difference and your eyes are dull.”
He really noticed the small details about her. She wouldn't cry. She’d done that too much for too many years, living with parents that clearly hated her. Sarah didn’t pull away as she asked in a low voice, “Did you send my uncle’s body to my parents?”
His thumb caressed her skin, making her alert, everywhere, though he physically only touched her wrist. “Yes. They collected the body an hour ago or more now.”
No more need to ever see or hear from them. Good. She took her hand back and picked up her cup. “Thank you for taking care of that. I am tired, actually, and wouldn’t mind if we stayed home for the night. Maybe we can watch the sunset or a movie?”
“I’m game for whatever you want.” He gave her that smile that must make all women want him. She couldn’t be the only one to have ever noticed those dimples. “Go take a shower and decide.”
A shower and bed was a recipe for a restless night where she’d either relive her entire life like it was some nightmare, or dream Beau's love was real. “No. Well, the bath sounds good, but let’s share dessert and some wine.”
He put his cup down, his eyes wide. “You want a drink?”
Fair. She didn't blame his reaction--she'd made a big show about how alcohol ruined the brain, but now she wondered if that was just her parents' rules.
Sarah picked up the plates and the cream puffs to bring out on the balcony as she said, “Yes, get the wine. Tonight I want to bathe in sinful indulgence if that’s okay with you.”
He went to the wine bar and chose a bottle, grabbing two glasses. “I’ll have the staff fill your tub then, though the usual indulgence would be champagne, or maybe a milk bath. I remember my mom ordering one before saying the milk leaves her skin feeling soft.”
No one in her house had ever had a milk bath. She’d read once about some woman in history who took fancy baths in oils, milk, and who knew what else, but she’d only ever experienced a normal shower, with water. Milk sounded both wasteful and deliciously yummy. “Hmm. When we get back from Hoskell I’ll try this milk bath thing, but for now let’s just drink the wine and enjoy the dessert, which is bad enough for me.”
He followed her onto the balcony. She’d hoped the night air would cool her down, but this was Miami. It was warm, though not sticky with humidity. Her thoughts about Beau weren’t going to wash away with food or wine. She put everything on the small metal table as Beau said, “Not living your life is bad for the health.”
She waited for her glass that he poured for her. Once he handed it to her, she studied the white wine, which had a French label on the bottle. “I don’t understand you, Beau. I really don’t.”
He walked to the balcony's railing where they could see the beach far below them and peered out at the vast ocean. “What don’t you get? I’m an open book when it comes to you.”
She stood beside him and stared at his profile. “Why? And not because I brought you a cup of coffee.”
He clinked his glass with hers and then turned toward her once he finished a small sip. “I don’t love you because you brought me a cup of coffee. I’ve had many servants bring me a drink and I’ve never noticed any of them. The day in my office was just when I noticed what was standing in front of me. That you were funny, cute, and that you made my life… complete.”
Beau must be delusional. Maybe he’d hit his head somewhere, not that she’d seen him do anything of the sort. The only thing physical he did was his exercises. “I’m not funny at all. I’m… difficult.”
He held up his glass but waited for her as if she should take a drink. She followed along and tried a small sip.
“Oh," he said, "you’re that too.”
She dared another sip and despite the rumors about alcohol, her brain seemed to continue working just fine. She stared down at the empty beach that was illuminated with light. What else had she been wrong about? “I just have a hard time wrapping my head around this. I’m not designed to be a princess.”
He clinked his glass with hers again and she glanced at his strong chin. Her temporary husband might taste better than her other choices right now, but she’d never find out. The goosebumps down her body needed to be ignored.
“But it’s our differences that make us work I think," he said. "You’re sharp, and I realized that you suspected there was more to Eva and Lois than what was said. You told me what happened with the women's meetings like we were a team, and I used your ear to talk about my own findings, because I trust your judgment.”
He was giving her too much credit. Lois and Eva hadn’t talked, not like the others. Quiet was usually the worst sort of sneaky as her sister seemed to sneak out all the time. That was the past; the women had come clean and seemed to genuinely love Beau’s brothers. She used both hands to hold the glass. “So you love me because I was here for you to talk to?”
He leaned closer and his almond-scented soap caught in her throat, making her ache for something raw that she couldn’t quite explain. “You saved me in prison when you married me.”
She scrunched her nose. Sarah hadn’t worn that stupid white dress her mother'd tossed at her because she wanted to be some hero. She shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Beau placed his hand on her shoulder. “The second you moved in with me, I made sure you were never forced against your will. You've had a choice.”
He’d never
asked her for anything. Maybe he was storing up his declaration of love because he wanted something? No, that was unfair.
The Beau she’d lived with for months now seemed genuine and fair and most of all honest. She stared down at his house slippers, simple black slip-ons he wore around the house saying outside shoes brought in germs. She’d accepted his answer and now wore yoga socks inside to cover her feet. Tonight she wore her gray pair. She admitted, “And I appreciated that. Love wasn’t expected.”
His shoulder bumped into hers as he asked, “Do you want love in your life?”
The glass trembled in her hands. Until Beau, she never shook or let anyone see her emotions, but she took a breath as she said, “I’m scared of it.”
“Why?” He brushed her hair out of her face that the wind wanted to collect at her lips. Now she could see clearly and his gentle touch warmed her inside.
No one ever touched her. She slowly lifted her glass to sip, mostly just to create distance. “Because… everyone I ever loved just… used me.”
“I don’t understand how anyone would ever try that.” He spoke like she was some delicate butterfly that flew from flower to flower. His soft words were a battering ram that shattered the walls around her heart as he said, “You’re here now. I won’t use you. I need you too much.”
Maybe, just maybe she should find out what Beau was like. She had an ache inside her that made her lips moist and her body weak at the knees. She went onto her tiptoes and closed her eyes. “Kiss me, Beau.”
He leaned closer, and she could feel his warm breath on her face. He took the glass out of her hand and placed it on the table next to his. He said, “I told you that you'd kiss me.”
His nearness made her body tingle but she refused to open her eyes and ruin the spell. “I’m giving you permission.”
She felt him a fraction away from her. “I’m this close… you just have to lean…”
Fine. She tugged on his shirt collar and brought his lips to hers.
And then the world disappeared.
Beau’s kisses were better than any dessert, including those cream puffs.
Beau checked his phone app for the plan he'd developed for this trip and saw on video that all his bags were on the plane though he still had his tablet, the USB, and the flash drives in his possession.
Good.
All that needed to happen now was for them to leave the condo. However, the sun rotated higher in the sky and his wife’s bedroom door was still closed.
They’d said they’d leave in the morning and the morning was almost done.
If she didn’t want to go, he’d happily let her stay. Honestly she’d be safer here where he knew his family would watch out for her until he returned.
But… she’d have a reason to be mad at him, as she'd demanded to come along. So it was best to check what was keeping her.
He straightened his shoulders like he was about to get into a physical fight, though she’d never actually hit him, and knocked on her door.
She didn’t say a word so he nudged the door open and saw her combing her hair fast like she’d rushed out of the shower. She wore white pants, paired with a white sleeveless blouse that showed off her curves. His gaze went up and down her body one more time, thankful she'd stopped wearing clothes that made her seem drab and plain. He met her brown-eyed gaze. “Are you ready?” She lifted up her finger to tell him silently ‘one minute.’ Beau shook his head. “It’s already ten.”
Her face flushed but she put the hair brush down and came toward him. She smelled shower-fresh with a hint of lavender shampoo. He rested his hand against her lower back to lead her out and said, “I had the staff set up a nice breakfast in the plane so we can have all the usual selections there.”
She walked with him toward the door, but then slowed down. He stared at her profile as she pouted and then finally said, “Beau… wait.”
“We should get going.” He pointed toward the door. “You can stay home and be safe if you prefer.”
“I’m coming.” She lifted her head in defiance daring him to argue. Then when he didn’t and silence fell between them, she pushed her hair behind her ears and said, “I just have one thing to say.”
The woman he'd married was never going to be quiet and unassuming, but she clearly made life interesting, so he widened his stance knowing she’d have a comeback that made his hair stand on end. “One isn’t your style, but okay. What’s going on?”
She folded her hands in front of her like they were in church or something, and pointed them toward the couch as if suddenly cultured. “Thank you.”
He followed her, though his shoulders slouched… disappointed. Where was her quick retort? He took his seat. “For what?”
Sarah crossed her legs the same way that his mother did when sitting for a state dinner where she was being honored. “For not taking advantage of me.”
Last night he’d insisted she go to bed alone, because he refused to be the bad guy in her mind later. He’d studied her behavior for months and unlike most people, Sarah was full of surprises. She was also tempestuous. He leaned closer and said, “Just remember you were the one that kissed me.”
She let out a long sigh. “I remember.”
Time ticked past and neither one of them moved or said anything.
At last he nodded. He wanted to get to the plane, and Hoskell.
Still she didn’t move, but more time passed. Adrenaline pumped through him now, but he ignored his own desires as he’d have her, eventually. “Now that you’ve said what you wanted to say, let’s get our shoes on and go.”
He bent his knees to stand, but she placed her hand in his lap like… like a puppy or something. His mind reeled, trying to figure her out. “Beau?”
He scratched the back of his neck to get that mystery itch, again, but really it was just a habit. “Yeah?”
She took a deep breath and he waited, almost on pins and needles for what she said next. “Also, thank you again.”
His jaw clenched. Something was clearly happening he didn’t understand as he said, “Too many thanks. This isn’t your style.”
Her lips pouted more as she hugged her waist. “I’m not used to someone seeing me and not wanting me to disappear.”
Ah. So today she responded to his confession of his feelings. His shoulders relaxed as he gave her a half-smile. “You’re way too loud to disappear.”
She turned her body toward him and their knees brushed. “After Hoskell, how do you think we might work out together?”
How did he picture their life? He shared what he saw in his mind, where they had a happy home life, if he lived to see it. “Well, just as we have been. I have a computer business I run from home and you’ve been helping for months. Once we finish a couple hours, we have lunch and dinner together, maybe a few more kisses, and talking and just go from there.”
Her body tightened and she asked what she'd avoided talking about earlier. “And sex?”
“We’ll go slow.” He hoped she stopped looking like she was so tight and wound up that she couldn’t breathe. He spoke in a lower voice, “I realize you haven’t had sex.”
She bit her lip so hard he wondered if she’d draw her own blood, but she shook her head and her eyes misted as she said, “I… that’s not true. I’m not a virgin.”
Wait. What? He stopped that immediate question flying out of his lips. Second, this meant he might speed up his own plans if he needed to, but for now he folded his hands between his legs and said, “This is interesting. Who was this mystery man?”
Her lips pressed together, and her nose twitched to let out steam as she said, “No one worth knowing.”
His mind raced. The guy was someone she hated. Clearly. And the only one she hated was… the answer flew from his mouth. “The guy your sister, Bianca, married.”
Her head snapped back and she flinched, but her face was bright red as she asked, “How did you guess that?”
He now understood why she'd reacted so extremely t
oward one man, when the Sarah he knew wasn’t violent at all. She had a mouth, but she never raised her fists or tried to do anything physical. He swallowed and narrowed his gaze. “First, am I right?”
Her face flamed redder than he’d ever seen, but she lowered her lashes in shame. “Yeah.”
He realized what had happened. Some guy talked her out of her panties, dumped her, and then went about seducing her sister. He quietly said, “That explains why you ruined his car.”
“And his house,” she grumbled.
Well a mobile home wasn’t exactly a house, though now everything made more sense. Sarah didn’t have some secret side he couldn't see. She’d been hurt worse than she’d admitted and had retaliated. He shifted farther back into the sofa. “Fair enough. How did that happen?”
Sarah's hands fell to her sides. He patted her leg that was near his lap suddenly and hoped that she trusted him to share the truth. She flipped her hair behind her ear. “He… he used to walk me home from school and carry my grocery bags. He told me I was beautiful and he’d never seen anyone like me… I… was stupid and believed his lies.”
So he’d been right. Sarah’s defenses were all talk. She’d never broken a vase or dropped a plate in his house, except the one time where she'd cringed and her entire face had turned white. He'd wondered how her parents had such an event to threaten her with. Luckily for him, she'd ended up here, with him. He bumped his shoulder to hers. “And then he turned on your sister.”
Her nose twisted and her lips pouted, but she finally glanced up and said, “Not right away. He showed back up in our lives about six months after he’d disappeared on me.”
He patted her knee again and realized with relief that he wouldn't have to worry about virginal reactions from her later. He stood. They had to get going. The plane was waiting. “Well, your sister is even more stupid than I imagined.”
She stood as well, but then crossed her arms like she’d argue with him. “Why do you say that?”
He kissed her cheek. He’d spent every second of these three months watching her every move. He spoke confidently though she hadn’t admitted this, as he said, “Because you told her.”
Irresistibly Dashing Page 3
