The Bride Said, I Did?

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “We were on location in the desert, filming Lawless,” Beau answered. “It was a tough shoot for a lot of reasons, and Sharon and I ended up turning to each other, initially just for camaraderie. But eventually things got a little more complicated—” Sharon got a little better at playing me for a fool “—and we continued our on-screen romance off-screen, too.”

  Dani held herself very still and studied him in silence. “Do you usually become involved with your leading ladies?” She searched his face.

  “No.” In fact, Beau thought grimly, he had a strict rule against it. One in the past he had religiously adhered to.

  “Then…?” Dani continued watching him, struggling to understand.

  Beau stood and looked Dani straight in the eye. “She needed me. Or seemed to, and for a while, anyway, it felt good to be needed that way. So we got married shortly after the movie wrapped.” Beau knew, even as he said the words, how foolishly chivalrous it all sounded.

  “When did you realize it was a mistake?” she asked softly, edging closer.

  “When we returned to Los Angeles and attempted to settle into normal married life. She was jealous of the amount of work I was getting and resentful she wasn’t getting more.” Beau paused, remembering what a disillusioning time that had been. “I began to see a side of her I hadn’t known existed.” And had liked even less.

  “But you hung in there, anyway.” Dani regarded him with something akin to respect, for trying to do right by the woman he’d chosen as his wife.

  Beau nodded. “I’d made a commitment. I felt honor bound to live up to it.”

  “And would have,” Dani guessed softly, searching his face again, “if you hadn’t caught her cheating on you.”

  “Probably.” Beau sighed and moved away from Dani restlessly. “Although it was getting harder and harder, and since she didn’t want kids and I did…” Beau shrugged his disappointment. “Well, suffice it to say, neither of us was all that happy.” He moved back to Dani’s side.

  Silence fell between them once again, a more comfortable one now. Beau had never talked about his marriage to Sharon with anyone. It felt good unburdening himself to Dani. Better yet to know she understood the choices he had made, and the mistakes. Soon he hoped to understand her in the same way. But first he had to get her to open up to him. Not an easy proposition, considering how fiercely Dani guarded her heart. “That answer all your questions?” he asked.

  Dani lifted her hands in an indifferent gesture. “I suppose.”

  Beau grinned. The one thing Dani was not was a good fibber. Beau smiled his satisfaction. “Admit it. You were concerned about me.” His hands cupping her upper arms, he drew her nearer. “And you rushed over here to help.”

  Dani tilted her head back and favored him with a smile. “What if I was?”

  Beau sifted his fingers through her hair, loving the feel of it. “Hey, if you want to act like a wife it’s okay with me.”

  Dani’s eyes sparkled and her deliciously full lower lip slid out in a kissable pout. “I am not acting like a wife!” she declared, arrowing a finger at his chest.

  “Could have fooled me,” Beau drawled, already lowering his mouth to hers. Ignoring her muted gasp of dismay, he kissed her the way he’d wanted to kiss her from the moment she’d walked in. With none of the caution their situation required and all of the heart. He kissed her to remind her what they could have, given half a chance, and what he wanted them to have. He kissed her out of frustration because they had let so many things drive them apart. And he kissed her in celebration of the baby they were having.

  She fought him at first, using her hands to push against his chest. And still Beau persisted, parting her lips with the pressure of his, nudging his tongue inside, tasting the sweetness and the innocence that was her. He deepened the kiss, tormenting her with lazy sweeps of his tongue. His lips caressed hers, gently this time, and with incredible tenderness. Dani trembled and moaned. Her arms came up to wrap about his neck. The next thing he knew she was kissing him back with an urgency and an answering wonder that rocked him to his soul. Passion for passion, Beau met her needs, claiming her as his, until his blood began to heat and he knew it was either stop their embrace or end up taking her then and there. Slowly, reluctantly, he ended the kiss.

  “Damn it all, Beau,” she complained immediately, looking every bit as eager to continue as he. She swallowed hard. “You know we can’t do this anymore, and you know why!”

  All Beau knew was that every time he kissed Dani, he ended up feeling closer to her. He suspected it was the same for her, which was why she was now protesting so mightily. Having felt her response and experienced her need, which was so much more potent than her words, Beau felt a surge of male satisfaction much greater than his frustration at having to stop. “So you said,” he murmured, not about to let her start another argument to try to keep them apart. He would wait, just as she wanted. But only because they were at Greta’s dance hall. There would be a time and place to make love to Dani again, much sooner than she knew. And this time when it came, there would be no turning back. He would see to it.

  Chapter Eight

  Back at the house, Dani once again got down to the endless overwhelming business of unpacking.

  “All those clothes are never going to fit in that tiny little closet. What you need is an armoire,” Beau said from Dani’s open bedroom door.

  As much as Dani hated to admit it, he was right. Aware she was still a bit peeved at him for stealing a kiss and even angrier at herself for letting him, she turned to Beau. Wearing a plain stone-colored shirt and jeans that seemed to underscore the healthy tanned hue of his skin, he looked handsome and sexy as all get-out. Worse, since they’d returned to her house, he only seemed to have time and attention for her. Which made concentrating on her organizational problems a very good idea, Dani decided pragmatically. What she needed to do here was pretend she hadn’t a care in the world about anything except getting properly settled in her new home.

  Dani forced a cheerful smile. “You’re probably right. An armoire would be just the thing in this room. Unfortunately I didn’t really consider the lack of closet space in the upstairs bedrooms when I bought the house.”

  Beau ambled farther in the room. “So let’s go get one.”

  Dani blinked in astonishment. “Now?”

  Beau shrugged. “Why not?”

  Dani glanced at her watch and saw it was almost 9 a.m. “For starters, Billy should be showing up for work any minute.”

  Beau regarded her skeptically. “I wouldn’t count on that if I were you.”

  Dani dropped the stack of shirts she’d been trying to fit into her closet on her bed, giving up for now. She whirled back to Beau and admonished, “Listen, cowboy, you may have thrown him out of here yesterday in a bad imitation of John Wayne, but he doesn’t work for you. He works for me.” And that was the way it was going to stay. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

  Beau scowled, knowing as well as Dani who it probably was.

  “Stay out of this,” she warned as she breezed past him. “I mean it.”

  She dashed downstairs, dodging moving boxes as she went to the front door. Billy was standing on the stoop. He looked as nervous and as stressed-out as it was possible to be. “I came to apologize,” he said grimly, before she could get a word in edgewise. “I…I made a complete fool of myself yesterday.”

  “Yes,” Dani said, looking Billy straight in the eye. “You did.”

  “But I swear it won’t happen again,” Billy persisted.

  Beau appeared behind Dani. He glared at Billy, making it abundantly clear that if Billy wanted to get to Dani, he was going to have to go through him first. “How can we be sure of that?” Beau demanded, unconvinced.

  “Because I give you my word,” Billy said earnestly. “No more hitting on her.” Billy turned to Dani. “No more fantasies of…well, you know.”

  Yes, Beau did, Dani thought uncomfortably, and as a consequence Beau once again looke
d ready to take Billy to the woodshed.

  “Because I know it’s not gonna happen,” Billy continued, pleading his case. He swallowed and abruptly looked close to tears. “Just like I know I’ll never be able to actually go to film school,” he added hoarsely, looking deeply disappointed. “More than likely, sorting videos for you for a summer is as close as I’m ever likely to get, even if I did just get off the waiting list at USC.”

  Dani’s eyes widened at that bit of news. The University of Southern California had a very prestigious film school. “You got in?” She had been mentoring Billy ever since he had confided his ambitions to her, when he was just starting high school, corresponding via e-mail and regular mail, seeing each other on her twice-yearly visits back to Laramie. Realizing just how bright and talented Billy was, she had encouraged him to apply to all the best film schools and had been as disappointed as he was when he was put on the waiting list by USC the previous April.

  Billy reached into the back pocket of his jeans and withdrew a folded piece of paper. He handed it over. It appeared to have been read and reread many times.

  Dani quickly scanned the contents. Beau did the same over her shoulder. “It says here you’ve got a week to send in your deposit to keep your place in the class,” Dani said.

  “And no financial aid,” Billy reported glumly.

  Dani ushered Billy inside and shut the door behind him. “What do your parents say?” she asked gently as she led the way into the living room.

  “That it’s Texas A&M University or nothing, ’cause they aren’t paying for anything else.”

  Billy sat down in a club chair while Dani and Beau took the sofa. “What about the University of Texas at Austin?” Beau said, getting involved in the problem despite himself. “They have a film school.”

  “My parents don’t want me going there, either.” Billy sighed. “They want me at A&M, studying cattle management, so I can work the ranch with my dad.” He paused, then continued hopefully, “Maybe if you could talk to them, Dani, you could make them see this isn’t just some fantasy, but a real opportunity for me. One I can’t afford to pass up.”

  “I’ll be happy to speak to them on your behalf,” Dani said. She wasn’t sure Billy’s parents would listen to her. “But no matter what, you have to respect your parents’ wishes.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Beau said.

  Dani was happy about that. There was no doubt having someone along of Beau’s stature in the film industry would help.

  AN HOUR LATER she and Beau were sitting in the kitchen of the ranch house where Billy had grown up. As Billy had predicted, his parents were totally against him going to USC.

  “But they have one of the best film schools in the nation,” Dani said.

  “Texas A&M has one of the best agricultural schools in the nation,” Billy’s dad countered.

  Billy scowled and ran his hands through his slick-backed rusty-brown hair. “I don’t want to be a rancher, Dad. I have no interest in cattle. Zero!”

  “You’re too young to know what you want,” Billy’s dad said, then took a long thirsty gulp of iced tea. He wiped the range dust from his brow.

  “Maybe in four or five years, if you still want to do this,” Billy’s mom offered after a moment, smoothing the fabric on her long denim skirt.

  “Four or five years is going to be too late!” Billy jumped up from the table and ran out of the room.

  Silence fell among the remaining adults. “It really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him,” Dani said gently. “And I have to tell you, aside from me and maybe Beau here, I’ve never met anyone who loves film as much as Billy does.”

  “Which is exactly the problem,” Billy’s dad said. He pushed his chair back with a screech and began to pace the cozy country kitchen. “It’s all those movies that have put these crazy ideas in his head.” Billy’s dad scowled. “We don’t want him going out there to California, spending all that money to go to a fancy private college and getting us into the kind of debt it’ll take years to pay off, only to find out he can’t get a job when he’s through. We’ve seen it happen.”

  “And not just to kids who want to be in the movies,” Billy’s mom put in. “Only last year there were at least ten Laramie kids who graduated from college with degrees in art and music and philosophy and all sorts of other nonsense. Every single one of them applied for jobs all over the country, and not one of them found work in their field. You know what most of them are doing now? Waiting tables and working minimum-wage jobs.”

  Beau didn’t try to dispute that. “There’s never any guarantee—even if you graduate with a degree in a sought-after field like engineering—that you’ll get a job in your field,” he told Billy’s folks as he reached over and took Dani’s hand.

  “But this way,” Billy’s dad said firmly, “Billy will have a job in his field as soon as he graduates. Right here. On this ranch. Just like his momma and I always planned.”

  “I TOLD YOU IT WOULDN’T DO any good,” Billy said as Dani and Beau met up with him outside the modest one-story ranch house.

  Dani stepped beneath the shade of a towering live oak. “Don’t give up just yet. There’s still time for them to change their minds,” she soothed.

  “It’ll never happen,” Billy said miserably.

  Probably not, Dani thought, forcing herself to be realistic. And for that, her heart went out to him. She and her sisters had all been encouraged to follow their dreams while their parents were alive and had, as a consequence, been even more determined to do so after their deaths.

  “Let us both think on it and try to come up with a solution,” Beau told Billy compassionately. He patted him on the back. “In the meantime, don’t you go burning any bridges.” Beau paused, then, sure he had Billy’s attention, continued seriously, “I think you should go back in and apologize to your parents.”

  “Me!” Billy echoed, incensed.

  “For running out of the house that way,” Beau said. He gave Billy a stern look. “If you want them to help you, you’ve got to start demonstrating your maturity. Stop acting so hotheaded.”

  Dani nodded, knowing Beau had a point. “Then you can go back over to my office and start unpacking and cataloging all the boxes of videos,” she said.

  “Dani and I won’t be back till later,” Beau said, linking arms with Dani.

  Dani shot Beau an astonished look.

  Beau smiled. “We have an armoire to buy.”

  “YOU WEREN’T VERY FIRM with Billy’s folks,” Dani said as she and Beau prowled the furniture store at the closest shopping mall, some forty-five minutes from Laramie.

  “That’s because I didn’t want to get in the middle of what is essentially a family argument.” Beau tested a sofa, then a chair.

  Dani followed him from one furniture display to another. “This is Billy’s future we’re talking about.”

  “As well as his relationship with his parents.” Beau finished his cursory tour of the entire store, then turned and went back to the far right corner, where they had come in. Standing in front of an armoire, Beau studied the display board with the manufacturer’s specifications. “If Billy acts rashly now, he could do damage to his relationship with his folks that might never be repaired.”

  More interested in the subject they were discussing than the furniture, Dani slanted a curious look at Beau. “We’re not talking just about him now, are we?”

  Beau shrugged, hurt flickering briefly in his eyes. “I know what it’s like not to have the support of your parents when it comes to following your dreams,” he said quietly after a moment.

  Dani touched his arm lightly as they moved on to the next armoire. “Your parents didn’t approve of your wanting to be an actor?”

  Beau grimaced. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “When did you know that acting was what you wanted to do with your life?” Dani asked gently.

  Beau looked down at her and took her hand. “From the time I was a little kid, I wanted to
act. My mother thought I was being cute to get attention and never took my declarations seriously.”

  “And your father?”

  Beau’s hand tightened on Dani’s. His mouth set grimly, eyes averted, he continued, “Dad was career army and disgusted by just the thought of his son being a thespian. Every male in his family for six generations had graduated from the Citadel and been career military and he expected me—his only child—to do the same.”

  Dani could only imagine how much that must have hurt. “But you refused,” she guessed.

  Beau nodded. “I told him the family tradition ended with me.” His shoulders tensing beneath the cotton of his shirt, Beau said, “Dad refused to accept that, of course. He figured he knew what was best for me, even if I didn’t.” Beau moved on to the next bedroom set. “He pulled a lot of strings and essentially put his own career on the line to get me a spot at the Citadel.” Recalling, Beau shook his head. “I was furious when I found out what he’d done, told him no way in hell was I going to let my life be decided the way his had been, and that the closest I would ever get to a uniform was wearing one in a movie.” Sadness filled Beau’s eyes. “I didn’t mean half of what I said, of course,” he confided with a sigh. “Dad probably didn’t, either. But the point is, we said some pretty ugly things to each other in the course of the arguments that followed. And once we said them, there wasn’t any taking them back.” Beau’s face and tone hardened. “He didn’t speak to me for a long time after that. Didn’t acknowledge that he even had a son.”

  Knowing how it felt to lose your parents’ love, for whatever reason—death, disagreement—Dani’s heart went out to him. “That must have hurt.”

  Beau nodded. “Him, probably every bit as much as, if not more than, me, I’m sure.” Beau paused, a distant look in his eyes. “Anyway, eventually, at my mother’s urging, my father and I made up—at least on the surface—but things were never the same between us after that, and when he and my mom died in that train wreck in Germany a few years ago, well, let’s just say I still have a lot of regrets about all the opportunities we missed to be close.” Beau shook his head. “I wish we’d never let my choice of careers come between us like that.”