by Kate Hunt
Beau's Firecracker
The Holiday Firecrackers Book 3
Kate Hunt
Copyright © 2020 by Kate Hunt
* * *
All rights reserved.
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
* * *
Join Kate’s mailing list
(You’ll get access to exclusive freebies!)
Contents
1. Reese
2. Beau
3. Reese
4. Beau
5. Reese
6. Beau
7. Reese
8. Beau
9. Epilogue – Reese
The Holiday Firecrackers
About the Author
1
Reese
How the hell did I accumulate so much stuff?
I sigh as I chuck yet another t-shirt into a donation pile and wipe my brow. I’m sweating from the summer heat, although all the purging I’ve done today hasn’t exactly helped, either. My pile of stuff to donate has grown and grown, slowly overtaking my apartment. It’s crazy how much of this stuff I’ve held onto even though I haven’t used it in ages.
But the time has come to make decisions about what’s essential and what’s not.
Excitement surges through me all over again when I think of the moment I saw the email. I’d been having a bad day at work; everyone was in a sour mood at the firm, and we’d just received news from a client that was going to make things even worse. I’d stepped out to quickly grab lunch and some fresh air, and as I stood in line at the sandwich place down the block, I checked my email and gasped at the message in my inbox.
Dear Miss Wilson: We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the position of executive marketing manager at our firm. Please arrange a time to speak with the general manager about your start date…
The email had gone on to praise my portfolio—praise that, to be honest, made me well up with emotion. For the past several years, I’d worked my ass off and gotten exactly nowhere. Before the email, I’d been this close to accepting the fact that I was stuck where I was.
But all those years of hard work are finally going to pay off.
Not that it will be smooth sailing from here on out. My initial position won’t be an easy one. I’ll be doing a six-month rotation around Europe, beginning in London, before settling into one of the main offices. I know I’ll need to make the most of each and every day.
But I’m ready for it. Ready to prove myself.
Ready for this new chapter of my life.
Finished with my closet, I grab a fresh moving box and head into the kitchen to start sorting through the cabinets. I’m going to donate most of my kitchen stuff—it doesn’t make sense to haul it halfway across the world—but there are a few things I want to bring with me, like the little dessert plates I hand-painted a few years ago.
I’ve just finished wrapping the dessert plates in bubble wrap and setting them into the moving box when I look back up into the cabinet and see something that makes me laugh. It’s one of my favorite coffee mugs, but it somehow got lost in the back of the cabinet. It features a cartoon drawing of an opossum and the words I LOVE MY CAT.
The mug was a gift from my best friend, Beau. I met him seven years ago when I started working at the firm. He’d already been working there for a couple years and our manager asked him to show me the ropes. By the end of my first day, it felt like we were already old friends.
In particular, it was our shared sense of humor that cemented our friendship. This opossum mug is the perfect example of that: he gave it to me as a Christmas gift last year, and I burst out laughing the moment I saw it.
There are a lot of things I’ll miss about living here, but my friendship with Beau is at the top of the list.
The doorbell rings and I carefully set the mug down before rushing off to answer the door. I’m not expecting anyone, but when I open the door, I’m not surprised to see Beau.
“Hey you,” I say, giving him a grin. A fresh wave of summer heat rushes in with him. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping you pack. And bringing you dinner,” he says, smiling as he holds up a plastic bag of takeout. I know there’s pain beneath that smile, though—he’s not thrilled about me leaving. We both know our friendship won’t be the same when we aren’t living in the same city.
“I knew I was friends with you for a reason,” I joke. “Come on in.”
Beau comes in and sets the bag down on my kitchen countertop. I untie the bag and start pulling the containers out, the irresistible smell of Chinese food making my stomach growl. Soon, we’re sitting down, digging into the takeout containers, passing them back and forth as we savor the meal.
“So, any plans for the weekend?” I ask. As I grab one of the fortune cookies, I shoot Beau a grin. “Besides helping me pack, of course.”
“Actually, yes. We have plans, Reese.”
I lift an eyebrow at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m taking you on a camping trip.”
“Camping? I mean, that sounds fun and everything, but…Beau, I have so much to do before I leave.”
“I’ll help. We’ll get it done today. Promise.”
I certainly can’t argue that he’s more than capable of helping me get through the rest of my mess. Still…
“Come on,” he says. “It’ll be fun. We’ll drive through my hometown. Hang out in the wilderness. See the fireworks.”
“Fireworks?” I say. As soon as the word is out of my mouth, I slap my forehead. “Oh my God. I totally forgot. It’s Fourth of July weekend.”
Beau laughs. “Exactly.”
“I’ve been so focused on the move…” I shake my head. “You’re right. I could use a break.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Only if I get through all my stuff tonight.”
“Deal.”
I smile at Beau, my chest swelling with affection when I think of how wonderful of a friend he’s been all these years. He’s always been there for me. He’s my rock. And he’s such a huge part of my life. Between all the hours we’ve been around each other at work and all the times we’ve hung out on the weekends, I can’t even guess the number of hours we’ve spent together.
Beau smiles back at me, and our eyes hold each other’s gaze. Have his eyes always been that blue? Suddenly, something flips in my chest. I pull my eyes away.
What was that? It wasn’t desire, was it?
Nah. It was probably just…acid reflux or something.
“What’s yours say?” Beau asks.
“What?” I say quickly.
“Your fortune.”
“Oh.” I finally crack open the fortune cookie in my hands and pull out the little slip of paper. “Nothing is impossible.”
Beside me, Beau cracks open his cookie and chuckles. “Mine says, Don’t forget to put away the leftovers.”
2
Beau
Nostalgia hits me the moment we reach my hometown. As much as I love the hustle and bustle of the city, I’ll always maintain a fondness for the place where I grew up.
And I can’t wait to introduce the place to Reese.
Truth be told, I’ve been wanting to bring Reese out here for years. We’re suc
h good friends that it only seems natural to want to show her where I grew up—God knows I’ve talked about it plenty to her. For one reason or another, though, the timing just never worked out.
But no way am I going to let her leave on her adventure abroad without taking her up here first.
I pull the car into an angle-in parking spot and we get out to walk around. The town is decorated for the holiday weekend: baskets of red and white flowers hang from the lamp posts, and flags and banners are on display everywhere; every storefront is festive. A lot of the people walking around are dressed up for the holiday, too.
“Well?” I say, glancing over at Reese. “What do you think?”
“What a boring little town,” she dead-pans. “Totally not quaint at all.”
I grin and point out a bakery that I know she’ll love. “Come on. Let’s go in here.”
The second we step into the bakery, a familiar voice calls out from behind the counter.
“Beau! What are you doing back?”
“Just visiting, Mavis,” I say, smiling at the old woman behind the counter.
“Well, it’s wonderful to see you. And who’s this?” Mavis eyes Reese with a mischievous grin.
“I’m Reese.” Reese steps forward to shake hands with Mavis over the counter.
“Very pretty name,” says Mavis. Winking at me, she adds, “And a pretty girl.”
I should have known Mavis would make a comment like that. But the baked goods here are too good to pass up.
“Reese is a friend,” I say.
“Ah,” says Mavis. She studies us both before drawing in a breath and saying, “Well? What would you like, my dears? I know you’ll have a steak pie, Beau. But what about you, Reese?”
I watch Reese as she considers all the options in the display case. Whenever Reese is thinking really seriously about something, she bites down on her lower lip. It’s one of the countless adorable things she does.
Not that I’d tell her so. Since the day we’ve met, I’ve kept my attraction for her buried as deep as possible.
If I’d met Reese under different circumstances, I would have made a move the day we met. But I didn’t want to be that douchey guy hitting on his new coworker—and once we became friends, that became yet another reason to put the kibosh on the desire I felt for her.
Especially since I’ve never gotten a whiff of the same feelings back from her.
“…one of those donuts, please, too,” Reese is saying now, pointing through the glass. “Oh, and one of those giant cookies. Those look incredible.”
“That’s what I like to see,” says Mavis. “A girl with an appetite.”
Mavis bags up our order and places the packages on the counter. I pull out my wallet to pay, but Mavis waves it away.
“Your money’s no good here, Beau.”
I drop a few bills into the tip jar anyway.
Reese and I say goodbye to Mavis, take our bags, and walk over to a nearby park to eat. There are a few families here already, but there’s one picnic table still available, so we grab it and sit down.
“Excited to go camping?” I ask Reese as we start to eat.
“Um…confession time? I’ve never done it before.”
“You’re kidding.” I have to turn and examine her face for sarcasm, I’m so shocked.
Reese shrugs. “My parents weren’t big on the great outdoors.”
“Huh. All right. Well, I’m honored to be the one to take your camping cherry.”
I’m just goofing around, but Reese’s cheeks go pink. Well, fuck. Guess I shouldn’t have made a joke like that. To fill the silence that follows, I rustle around in one of the bakery bags and find the giant cookie.
“Is this just for you or can we split it?” I ask.
Reese smirks, her cheeks returning to their normal color. “No way am I going to eat that monstrous cookie by myself. Break it in two, dude.”
Our conversation remains light as we hang out in the park for a little while longer, finishing up our treats and watching the kids run around. It’s one of those moments when everything just feels…
…well, right in the world, you know?
And then, before I can stop it, the perfection of the moment gets to me. Gets me all sentimental and shit. All of a sudden I can’t stop thinking about how much it sucks that Reese is leaving.
I won’t just be losing a friend.
I’ll be losing the girl I’m secretly in love with.
But what am I supposed to do? Tell her to cancel her plans? Ask her to stay? I can’t do that. I could never ask her to sacrifice her career dreams for me. Even if we were in a relationship, I couldn’t ask her to give up something like that.
“So,” says Reese. “I want to know what you like most about camping.”
I return to the present moment. “Hmm. Tough one. I’d say it’s a tie between the incredible peacefulness of being out in the woods…the coziness of sitting in front of a roaring campfire, eating s’mores and drinking hot cocoa, and…well, running from the grizzly bears, of course.”
Reese laughs, but then her face goes serious. “Wait. Are there grizzlies out here?”
“Oh, yeah. Tons of ’em.”
“I’m serious, Beau.”
“So am I.”
She gives me an unamused look. I keep a straight face for as long as I can, but eventually I break.
“Just messing with you,” I say, grinning.
“Thank God,” sighs Reese, her face relaxing. She starts to gather up our stuff. “Don’t laugh, but I’m deathly afraid of them. It all started when I was a kid and I watched some scary movie that had this really terrifying grizzly in it. I had nightmares for weeks.”
“How have you never mentioned this before?” I ask.
She shrugs. “It’s not like you know everything about me, Beau.”
“Yeah? What other secrets are you hiding from me?” I say, smiling and narrowing my eyes at her as she stands up from the picnic table.
She laughs but looks away. “Come on, Mr. Nosy. Let’s get going.”
3
Reese
I’m amazed by how beautiful the scenery is when we reach the campsite area. Beau was right—it is super peaceful out here.
Standing there, breathing in the fresh air, staring up at the trees, I’m utterly mesmerized.
Then I realize that while I’m just standing there, doing absolutely nothing, Beau is busting his ass setting up the campsite.
“Hey, let me help,” I insist.
But Beau waves my offer away.
“Nope,” he says. “You just enjoy yourself. I’ve got this covered.”
I smirk and put a hand on my hip. “Is that your nice way of saying I’ll just get in the way?”
“No,” Beau says with a laugh. “I just think you should take it easy, that’s all. You’ve had to do so much work to get ready for the move. Seriously, just relax.”
“All right, all right,” I say.
I sit down on a nearby log and take it easy while I watch Beau work. He finishes hauling the rest of the camping stuff out of the back of the car, then starts to put the tent together. I’m amazed as I watch him put together the tent with effortlessness.
“Thought that was supposed to be hard,” I say.
He looks over his shoulder at me. “Huh?”
“Putting together a tent. I’ve always heard it’s hard to do.”
Beau just offers a shrug.
He gets back to work, staking the tent to the ground. After that, he moves onto the next task: grabbing an axe, strolling over to a pile of wood he brought up with us, and chopping the logs into smaller pieces for the fire. Each swing of his arms brings the axe down onto the wood with a loud, powerful crack.
As he works, his arms flex beneath his t-shirt, and he suddenly seems so…
…strong.
So…muscular.
Not that I thought of him as being weak before or anything. But I’ve just never thought about his muscles. Besides, most of t
he time, I see him in slacks and button-up shirts. But right now he’s in shorts and a t-shirt—a t-shirt that’s clinging to his upper body.
I realize my lips are slightly parted, my breathing coming a little heavier than normal. Shit. This is bad. First that weird feeling in my chest when he came over last night; now this.
Since when am I attracted to Beau?
A little voice in my head answers the question for me: Uh, since the day you met him, remember?
Right.
Crap.
The day I met Beau—my first day of work—I did find myself attracted to him. But I wasn’t about to get distracted by those kinds of feelings. And I definitely wasn’t going to risk flirting with him, only to be rejected; imagine how awkward that would have made every day of work.
So I killed the crush before it could go any further. I told myself we could only be friends, and that’s exactly what happened.
Now, though, all these years later, my little crush is apparently resurfacing—and at the worst possible time. I’m literally leaving the country in a few days. What am I supposed to do with these stupid feelings?
Act on them, silly. What better place than here?
I shake away the ridiculous thought. Not only is there the whole bad-timing thing, but there’s also the much bigger problem that Beau doesn’t feel that way about me. I mean, if he liked me, he would have dropped a hint by now, right? We’ve always been honest with each other. We’ve always been upfront.
I look over at him again and feel heat ripple up the back of my neck at the sight of him cutting wood, each swing more and more precise and powerful.
“I’m, uh…I’m going to go walk around, if that’s okay,” I say, standing up.
