Before I jumped in the shower, I grabbed my cell and sent Peyton a text.
Me: Beau and I thought the lake would be fun. His parents have a boat there.
Peyton: Sounds great.
Me: Text me which hotel you’re at. We’ll pick you up in about an hour.
I didn’t wait for her response. The shower and I needed to become one, and I hoped the hot water beating down on my shoulders and back would release some of the tension I carried. It didn’t completely eliminate it, although it definitely helped. A couple of hours in the sun and as many beers should finish the job.
Once I had on trunks and a T-shirt, I slid on a pair of flip-flops. Peyton’s hotel wasn’t far from the church, so it would only take a few minutes to get there. I hesitated to call Masyn about joining us, but I didn’t want to create a greater divide by excluding her. My attempt was pointless. She didn’t answer, nor did she read my text, although, I guess it was possible she’d turned off her read message receipts. Masyn was lucky we’d been friends for so long. I didn’t put forth this much effort for any woman.
Beau knocked on my door. “You ready? I got everything in the truck.”
I swung the door open to let him in while I grabbed my keys and phone. “Did you find a swimsuit?”
“For Peyton?”
I nodded and prayed Masyn had some hideous thing I’d forgotten was in the drawer.
“Yeah, although I doubt it’s what you’re hoping for.”
“Two-piece?” I questioned.
“Yeah. Why does it matter? No guy in their right mind would encourage a woman to wear more on the water, or hell, anywhere for that matter.”
I glared at him like he was an idiot. He was an idiot. We didn’t have heart-to-hearts about me drawing our initials and flowers around Masyn’s name on napkins at the bar, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what I hadn’t confessed. He just chose to ignore it because Masyn did—salt in an open wound kind of thing.
“I’m surprised you’d want to see your ex-fiancée’s sister half-naked and wet. Isn’t that incestuous in some twisted way?”
“Gross. I don’t have any intention of touching her. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view. God gave us beauty to admire.”
“Beauty, lust—it’s all the same thing, right?”
“Potato patato.”
“I tried to call Masyn to see if she wanted to go.”
“No answer?”
“Nope. You talked to her?”
“Briefly. She pretty much blew me off.” Beau didn’t talk to Masyn daily or spend time with her on a regular basis. Since he’d left for college, he hadn’t been home much during the school years, and since both of us worked during the summer, we only saw him on weekends. Her blowing him off wasn’t the same wound as it was to me.
There was no point in interrogating him. Even if he had any knowledge, he wouldn’t violate her confidence and share anything he knew. Over the years, there were times those trusts caused rifts in our friendships until we were old enough to value the worth of the secrets. This was one of those times I wanted to revert back to high school and pitch a fit and insist he could end this crap with Masyn if he would tell me what her problem was. Although he’d say he already had, I just didn’t believe it.
Peyton was standing outside the hotel when we pulled up. Beau crawled into the back seat to allow her to sit up front.
As soon as she climbed up, I laughed and said, “You’re going to bake your brains out in that outfit. Do you want to go change?”
Her pale-blue eyes drifted down her blouse to her jeans. I hadn’t even noticed the heels until I followed her eyes. She sighed and angled her body in the seat so she could talk to me and Beau at the same time. “I don’t have anything else with me. I didn’t exactly come to Georgia prepared to bask in the sun for a week.” Peyton must have thought she’d said something inappropriate. “Sorry, Beau. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
“No offense taken.”
I’d offer her Masyn’s crap back at my house except that Peyton had a solid six inches on her and probably twenty pounds. They were both thin; Masyn was just tiny.
“Lee had me grab a swimsuit for you. We could swing by my parents’ house. I’m sure my mom has a T-shirt and some shorts that would work.”
With that settled, we made a pit stop at the Chastains’ so Peyton could change, and we were at the lake an hour later. Walking down the dock, Beau and I knew where we were going, but Peyton was unsure. It wasn’t that she didn’t know which boat was Beau’s; there was a hint of green tinting her cheeks.
I stopped and took the bag she was carrying with the towels in it. “Do you get seasick?”
“I never have before, although I’ve never been on a lake, only the ocean.”
“In a small boat?”
The grimace pulling at her lips answered that question. Yachts and cruise ships felt like being on land, even with rough water.
“We can go home? We don’t have to stay if you think you’re going to get sick.” I’d be irritated as all hell, but I’d do it. I didn’t get sick on the water because of the motion, but I’d been sick on a boat plenty of times because I’d drunk too much in the sun—it was fucking miserable.
“No.” She waved me off as though my suggestion were silly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine once we start moving. I think it’s the swaying of the dock.”
I hoped she was right. I shifted the stuff in my hands to keep from dropping it and jerked my head in the direction of Beau who’d long since left us behind. “Come on, the quicker we get on the water, the faster the breeze will be blowing in your face. The heat doesn’t help.”
Beau, Masyn, and I used to come out here all the time with Bodie and Braden. We spent hours racing around the lake on inner tubes and water skis. After high school, Bodie and Braden took over, and we joined them less often until we were down to once or twice a summer. This was one of those places in my mind that held the answers to all the world’s problems—there was nothing that couldn’t be fixed or made better on this lake. There wasn’t a single bad memory here. Every one of them was good and made me long for a time when life was less crowded with responsibility. And even though we’d had dozens of other girls on the boat with us at different times over the years, Masyn not being here today seemed off.
Peyton put on a brave face and forced a smile as Beau helped her onto the deck. I dropped the bag and small cooler onto the floor of the boat and hopped in. Normally, I sat in the seat next to Beau while he drove—his boat, he was captain—but since Peyton situated herself up front, I joined her. When Beau started the engine, she chewed on her lip and grabbed the seat cushion and edge of the boat as soon as we started moving.
I tried to mask my humor, although I did a shitty job. “Once we get through the no-wake zone, he’ll pick up speed.”
“Was that meant to comfort me?” She might choke on her nervous laughter.
I pointed to the very front of the boat, currently sitting high in the water. “When we’re moving faster, the front will come down, so we’re sitting flat on the water. You’ll be able to see where we’re going—so yes, it was meant to comfort you. You can feel every bump when the water is choppy and the boat is moving slow. At faster speeds, the boat doesn’t hit the waves the same way—it cuts through them instead of fighting against them.”
Peyton nodded to get me to shut up. Her knuckles were white, and her thighs flexed from where she’d pushed her feet into the carpet on the deck trying to keep herself from moving. I shifted over next to her and pried her hand off the rail. She clutched my fingers, terrified. I had to give her credit—she didn’t complain and didn’t puss out. Peyton was bound and determined to hang with us. I didn’t have a clue if she was really that bored sitting at the hotel or if she was trying to push her own envelope and experience something she didn’t have the chance to do in her world of high-priced purses and aged wine.
As I predicted, the boat reached the main channel. Beau hit a
bout sixty miles per hour and leveled out the bow, and Peyton turned her face toward the sun and the breeze. Just as a genuine smile graced her lips, she jerked back and slapped a hand to her face.
“Oh my God, what was that? It felt like a bullet hitting my nose.”
I wasn’t sure how Beau could even hear what she said over the noise of the engine; all I saw was him snicker and put his sunglasses on.
“Bug.”
Her features contorted into an expression that was worthy of film. If I’d had a camera, I would’ve taken a picture. “That’s so gross.”
“That’s why we usually sit in the back.”
She swatted at me playfully and wiped at the spot on her nose where the bug had made his suicide mission. “You could’ve told me.”
“Not much fun in that. There’s only one way to learn—and that’s to do.”
It didn’t take Peyton long to get comfortable enough to move around. I pulled off my T-shirt and threw it in the bag with the towels, and Beau followed shortly after. Even this late in the afternoon, June sun in Georgia could be brutal, and if it didn’t get you, then the humidity would. She suffered in clothes for a hell of a lot longer than I could have stood it.
Then suddenly, she swayed and got to her feet. “Okay. That’s it. I’m done.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, and Beau shrugged and kept driving. He could navigate this lake with his eyes closed, so the distraction of Peyton stripping out of the shorts and T-shirt Mrs. Chastain had provided didn’t deter him.
“What’s wrong? Another bug?” I chuckled, grabbed a beer from the cooler, and tossed one to Beau.
“No! Sweat just ran down my back.”
“Sorry, darlin’. There’s no AC on the lake.”
“It never gets this hot in New York. How do you take it? I feel like I just got out of a sauna.”
“We get in.”
Beau pulled into a cove where all the locals frequented, cut the engine, and drifted in. There wasn’t a lot of traffic to contend with on a Monday afternoon. People were either still at work or had been here all weekend and had taken the day off. I loved coming out here during the week when it wasn’t as crowded.
Peyton sat in awe as she stared at the scenery in front of her. The cove was cut out and had high sides that provided shade, along with the trees that topped them. There was a bit of a waterfall that landed on flat rocks people used to slide into the lake. I hadn’t seen anyone jump off the rope swing yet, but it was up there, too—you just had to hike to get to it. That freefall was worth every step up the steep bank.
Beau tossed out the anchor and then the ladder. Standing on the bow, he glanced back. “You guys coming?”
“How do we get there?” Peyton’s confusion was actually rather charming.
Beau’s brow furrowed with his answer. “Swim.” And he dove off the front and resurfaced a few feet farther out.
“In a lake?” she nearly screeched.
“What’s different about swimming in a lake or an ocean? At least in a lake, you don’t end up sticky and covered in salt. Come on.”
Hesitantly, she joined me at the same place Beau had jumped off. “I’m not diving. I don’t want to hit my head.”
“It’s over a hundred feet deep, but suit yourself.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her off with me, not giving her a chance to object.
When she came out of the water, she looked a bit like a drowned rat, until a stunning smile took over. Yeah, she liked it. At the shore, Beau was making his second trip up the rocks and begged her to come with him. Hand in hand, they climbed the slippery slope while I waited at the bottom. It was like watching a kid on a sled in the snow for the first time. Fear when she first started sliding was quickly replaced with excitement. The two of them screamed like girls on a roller coaster the whole way down. I waded from the water, sat in the sand, and watched. I hadn’t seen Beau this happy since the summer after our senior year. And I didn’t know Peyton well enough to make much of a guess, although I’d wager to say, she was letting loose and loving it.
“Beau, you wanna go up to the swing?”
He turned to Peyton. “You going to be all right down here? You can keep sliding.”
“Why can’t I go to the swing?” She’d gotten brave—or didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, which was more likely.
“You’re welcome to go.” I pointed up the side of the hill to the red bandana tied to the knot on the end of the rope. “That’s it up there.”
“I’m game.” Zero hesitation.
“You’re not afraid of heights?”
She laughed and shrugged me off. “No one’s afraid of heights, Lee. They’re afraid of the fall.”
Well, all right then.
My thighs burned after the fourth trip up, and my biceps ached from holding my weight until the rope reached its full length and I twisted myself off and swung into the air. I gave up after five turns, but I lost count how many times Peyton made the trip. It was like she was born for this. I wondered if she’d been planted in a place she couldn’t thrive—maybe Harden was where she needed to put down roots. She and Beau had latched on to each other with quick camaraderie. He looked at Peyton the way he should have looked at Felicity. I didn’t even want to think about the hornets’ nest that match would create. Either way, seeing him happy was a hell of a lot better than the way I’d found him on Saturday morning.
As the sun started to dip, I hollered to Beau that we needed to head out. Even as far away as they were, the disappointment on her face was evident. He said something to her that I couldn’t hear and it caused her to smile and take one last jump. Beau followed.
I climbed the ladder on the side of the boat first and tossed towels to Beau as they got in. He caught the first one, wrapped it around Peyton’s shoulders, and then grabbed the second one for himself.
“You want to drive back, Lee?” The only times Beau had ever offered to let me drive were when he was so drunk he couldn’t stop puking over the side, and when he broke his nose on the rocks sliding down head first. His eyes had swollen up so fast, we really would have had to test the theory about him navigating blindfolded.
The keys were already in the ignition when I took the wheel. Beau and Peyton sat up front—clearly, she hadn’t learned her lesson about bugs, because they didn’t vanish with the setting of the sun. I drove back to the marina, we hosed off the boat and replaced the cover, and then we threw away our trash. When the two of them scrambled to get in the back seat, that was where I drew the line.
“Hell no. One of you needs to get your ass up front. I’m not a damn chauffeur.”
Peyton blushed, and Beau’s splotches made an appearance. These two were perfect for each other—even their skin matched.
“I’m starved. Do you two want to grab dinner when we get back to Harden?” The expression on Beau’s face was pitifully filled with hope when he stared at me and then into the back seat at Peyton.
I could have answered for Peyton. If she didn’t eat with us, then she had to eat alone. And as much as I liked her, I didn’t think leaving the two of them together was a great idea. There was no telling where Beau’s head was—if it was in his pants, he needed to think hard about where that might lead in the long run. If it were on his neck, he still needed to think about the consequences of what a relationship of any kind with Peyton Holstein would be like. Therefore, by default, I had gone from chauffeur to chaperone.
Chapter Ten
It was after eight when we got back to Harden, and the dinner crowd had died down, not that there was much of one in this town. Most of the places to eat were fast food, and the few real restaurants only opened on weekends. I pulled into the parking lot of Starla’s Diner, better known as the Diner to the locals. I didn’t have a clue where the name came from since there was no Starla that I was aware of, and since there wasn’t another diner in town, no one used the actual name to reference it.
“This place is so quaint.” Peyton grinned from ea
r to ear when she saw the fifties décor. It wasn’t intended to be retro; the place was just old.
I led them to a booth in the back and slid in. Peyton took the other side, and Beau sat next to her with a dopey grin. I kicked him under the table to quietly tell him to knock that shit off. He took it upon himself to wail like a dog at a full moon.
“What the hell, Lee? That hurt.”
“Sorry, my foot slipped.” He knew me well enough to decipher the warning written on my face.
If he didn’t want people to think he was the one who’d been shady in the whole wedding snafu, he needed to keep his schoolgirl crush on the down-low. That was a quick way to destroy his reputation in this town. As it stood, Beau Chastain hung the moon, but it wouldn’t take much to bring that glass house crashing down where he was no longer the victim.
“What kind of food do they serve here?” Peyton’s blue eyes shone with curiosity. I imagined it was how I’d approach everything if I were suddenly thrown into New York City.
“Meat and three.”
She stared at me, perplexed. “I’m sorry, what?”
Beau pulled the menu out of the holder next to the wall to explain the process of picking a protein and sides. Laughter tickled my tongue, listening to him make suggestions about which of the lower calorie foods were worth eating. Really, none of this crap was low-cal or diet friendly. It was all laced with fatback and grease; that’s what made it good.
“What are you laughing about?” Beau rolled his eyes, proving how perturbed he was that I’d interrupted his game. He had no game; I wondered how he’d ever gotten a date, much less a fiancée.
Ignoring his evil stare, I focused on the girl sitting across the booth. “Peyton, there’s nothing on the menu that won’t taste good. There’s also nothing on the menu that won’t destroy a diet. Get what you want and regret it tomorrow.”
“Hey, guys.” Verna shuffled over from another table without taking her eyes off her order pad. The second she did, she caught sight of Beau and about knocked him over pulling him out of the booth. “Oh my gosh, Beau! I heard you were in town and wondered if I’d get to see you.” Her Southern accent became more prominent with her excitement. She hugged him tightly and swayed from side to side.
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