Something Beautiful (Beautiful #3)
Page 1
ALSO BY JAMIE MCGUIRE
THE PROVIDENCE SERIES
Providence
Requiem
Eden
Sins of the Innocent: A Novella
THE BEAUTIFUL SERIES
Beautiful Disaster
Walking Disaster
A Beautiful Wedding: A Novella
THE MADDOX BROTHERS BOOKS
Beautiful Oblivion
Beautiful Redemption
Beautiful Sacrifice
Apolonia
Red Hill
Among Monsters: A Novella
Happenstance: A Novella Series (Books 1-3)
Copyright © 2015 by Jamie McGuire
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations, www.okaycreations.com
Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at www.jamiemcguire.com
To my sweet friend,
Megan Davis.
Thank you for you.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Shepley
“Quit being a pussy,” Travis said, punching me in the arm.
I frowned and peered around us to see who had heard. Most of my fellow freshmen were within earshot, passing us to head into the cafeteria of Eastern State University for orientation. I recognized several faces from Eakins High, but there were even more I didn’t recognize, like the two girls walking in together—one with a cardigan and a light-brown braid, the other with golden beach waves and short shorts. She glanced in my direction for half a second and then continued on, as if I were an inanimate object.
Travis held up his hands, a thick black leather cuff on his left wrist. I wanted to snatch it off and slap him with it.
“Sorry, Shepley Maddox!” he yelled my name as he looked around, sounding more like a robot or a really bad actor. Leaning in, he whispered, “I forgot I’m not supposed to call you that anymore—or at least, not on campus.”
“Or anywhere, douche. Why’d you even come if you’re going to be a dick?” I asked.
With his knuckles, Travis tapped the underside of the brim of my ball cap, almost knocking it off before I grabbed it. “I remember freshman orientation. I can’t believe it’s been a year. That’s fucking weird.” Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he lit a cigarette and blew out a puff of gray smoke.
A couple of girls hovering nearby swooned, and I tried not to vomit in my mouth.
“You’re fucking weird. Thanks for showing me where to go. Now, get outta here.”
“Hey, Travis,” a girl said from the end of the sidewalk.
Travis nodded at her and then elbowed me, hard. “Later, cousin. While you’re listening to boring shit, I’m going to be balls-deep in that brunette.”
Travis greeted the girl, whoever she was. I had seen her in a few campus basements the year before when I came with Travis to his fights at The Circle, but I didn’t know her name. I could watch her interact with Travis and learn everything I needed to know. She was already conquered.
Travis’s weekly count had slowed down a little since his own freshman year but not by much. He hadn’t said it out loud, but I could tell he was bored with the lack of challenge from the coeds. I was just looking forward to meeting a girl he hadn’t bent over our couch.
The heavy door needed more than just a tug, and then I stepped inside, feeling the instant relief of air-conditioning. Rectangular tables pushed together, end over end, made five lines, separated strategically in areas for flow and access to the food line and salad bar. One lone circular table stood in a corner, and there sat the blonde with her friend and a flamboyant fellow with a bleach-blond faux hawk that seemed to have slammed into a wall at his hairline.
Darius Washington was sitting at the end of the line of tables, sufficiently close to the round table, so I waited for him to see me. Once he looked over, he waved like I’d hoped, and I joined him, pretty stoked that I was less than ten feet from the blonde. I didn’t look back. Travis was an arrogant ass more often than not, but being around him meant free lessons on getting a girl’s attention.
Lesson number one: Chase, but don’t run.
Darius waved to the people seated at the round table.
I nodded at him. “Do you know them?”
He shook his head. “Just Finch. I met him yesterday when I moved into the dorms. He’s hilarious.”
“What about the girls?”
“No, but they’re hot. Both of them.”
“I need an introduction with the blonde.”
“Finch seems to be friends with her. They’ve been talking since they sat down. I’ll see what I can do.”
I laid a firm hand on his shoulder, peeking back. She met my eyes, smiled, and looked away.
Be cool, Shep. Don’t blow it.
Waiting for something as extremely boring as orientation to be over was made even worse by the anticipation of meeting that girl. Once in a while, I could hear her giggle. I promised myself I wouldn’t look back, but I repeatedly failed. She was gorgeous with huge green eyes and wavy long hair, like she’d just been in the ocean and let it air-dry in the sun. The harder I listened for her voice, the more ridiculous I felt, but there was something about her, even since that first glance, that had me planning ways to impress her or to make her laugh. I’d do anything to get her attention, even for five minutes.
Once we were given our packets, and the campus layout, meal plans, and rules were explained ad nauseam, the Dean of Students, Mr. Johnson, dismissed us.
“Wait till we’re outside,” I said.
Darius nodded. “Don’t worry. I got you. Just like the old days.”
“In the old days, we chased high school girls. She is definitely not a high school girl. Probably not even when she was in high school,” I said, following Darius out. “She’s confident. She looks experienced, too.”
“Nah, man. She looks like a good girl to me.”
“Not that kind of experienced,” I snarled.
Darius chuckled. “Calm down. You haven’t even met her. You need to be careful. Remember Anya? You got all tangled up with her, and we thought you were going to die.”
“Hey, fucker,” Travis said from under a shady tree, about a hundred yards from the entrance. He blew out a last puff of smoke and pinched off the cherry, mashing it into the ground with his boot. He had the satisfied smile of a man post-orgasm.
“How?” I said in disbelief.
“Her dorm room is over there,” he said, nodding his head toward Morgan Hall.
“Darius is going to introduce me to a girl,” I said. “Just … keep your mouth shut.”
Travis arched a brow and then nodded once. “Yes, dear.”
“I mean it,” I said, eyeing him. I shoved my hands in my jeans pockets and took a deep breath, watching Darius
make small talk with Finch.
The brunette had already left, but thankfully, her friend seemed to be interested in sticking around.
“Stop fidgeting,” Travis said. “You look like you’re about to piss your pants.”
“Shut up,” I hissed.
Darius pointed in my direction, and Finch and the blonde looked at Travis and me.
“Fuck,” I said, looking to my cousin. “Talk to me. We look like stalkers.”
“You’re dreamy,” Travis said. “It’s going to be love at first sight.”
“Are they … are they walking over?” I asked. My heart felt like it was about to claw through my rib cage, and I had the sudden urge to beat Travis’s ass for being so flippant.
Travis scanned with his peripheral vision. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” I said, trying to suppress a smile. A stream of sweat escaped my hairline, and I quickly wiped it away.
Travis shook his head. “I’m going to kick you in the balls. You’re already freaking out about this girl, and you haven’t even met her yet.”
“Hey,” Darius said.
I turned and caught the hand he held out to me in a half high five and half handshake.
“This is Finch,” Darius said. “He lives next door to me.”
“Hi,” Finch said, shaking my hand with a flirtatious smile.
“I’m America,” the blonde said, holding out her hand to me. “Orientation was brutal. Thank God we’re only freshmen once.”
She was even more beautiful up close. Her eyes sparkled, her hair glowed in the sunlight, and her long legs looked like heaven in those frayed white shorts. She was almost as tall as me, even in sandals, and the way she held her mouth when she spoke, coupled with her full lips, was sexy as hell.
I took her hand and shook it once. “America?”
She smirked. “Go ahead. Make a dirty joke. I’ve heard them all.”
“Have you heard, ‘I’d love to fuck you for liberty’?” Travis asked.
I elbowed him, trying to keep a straight face.
America noticed my gesture. “Yes, actually.”
“So … are you accepting my offer?” Travis teased.
“No,” America said without hesitation.
Yes. She’s perfect.
“What about my cousin?” Travis asked, shoving me so hard that I had to sidestep.
“C’mon,” I said, almost begging. “Excuse him,” I said to America. “We don’t let him out much.”
“I can see why. Is he really your cousin?”
“I try not to tell people, but yes.”
She scanned Travis and then turned her attention back to me. “So, are you going to tell me your name?”
“Shepley. Maddox,” I added as an afterthought.
“What are you doing for dinner, Shepley?”
“What am I doing for dinner?” I asked.
Travis nudged me with his arm.
I shoved him off me. “Fuck off!”
America giggled. “Yes, you. I’m definitely not asking your cousin on a date.”
“Why not?” Travis asked, feigning insult.
“Because I don’t date toddlers.”
Darius cackled, and Travis smiled, unfazed. He was being a dick on purpose to make me look like Prince Charming. The perfect wingman.
“Do you have a car?” she asked.
“I do,” I said.
“Pick me up in front of Morgan Hall at six.”
“Yeah … yeah, I can do that. See you then,” I said.
She was already saying good-bye to Finch and walking away.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “I think I’m in love.”
Travis sighed, and with a slap, he gripped the back of my neck. “Of course you do. Let’s go.”
America
Freshly cut grass, asphalt baking in the sun, and exhaust fumes—those were the smells that would remind me of the moment Shepley Maddox stepped out of his black vintage Charger and jogged up the steps of Morgan Hall to where I stood.
His eyes scanned over my pale blue maxi dress, and he smiled. “You look great. No, better than great. You look like I’d better bring my A game.”
“You look average,” I said, noting his polo and what were likely his dress jeans. I leaned in. “But you smell amazing.”
His cheeks flushed dark enough to show through his bronze skin, and he offered a knowing smile. “I’ve been told I look average. It won’t deter me from having dinner with you.”
“You have?”
He nodded.
“They were lying. Just like me.” I passed him, heading down the steps.
Shepley hurried past me, reaching the door handle of the passenger side before I could. He tugged on it, opening the door wide in one motion.
“Thank you,” I said, sitting in the passenger seat.
The leather felt cool against my skin. The interior had been freshly vacuumed and polished, and it smelled like generic air freshener.
When he sat in his seat and turned to me, I couldn’t help but smile. His enthusiasm was adorable. Kansas boys weren’t so … eager.
By the golden tone of his skin and his solid arm muscles that bulged every time he moved them, I decided he must have worked outside all summer—maybe baling hay or loading something heavy. His hazel-green eyes practically glowed, and his dark hair—although not as short as Travis’s—had been lightened by the sun, reminding me of Abby’s warm caramel color.
“I was going to take you to the Italian place here in town, but it’s cooled off enough outside to … I … I just wanted to hang out and get to know you instead of being interrupted by a waiter. So, I did that,” he said, nodding to the backseat. “I hope it’s okay.”
I tensed, turning slowly to see what he was talking about. In the middle of the bench seat, secured with a seat belt, was a covered woven basket sitting on a thickly folded blanket.
“A picnic?” I said, unable to hide the surprise and delight in my voice.
He breathed out, relieved. “Yeah. Is that okay?”
I flipped around in the seat, bouncing once as I faced forward. “We’ll see.”
Shepley drove us to a private pasture just south of town. He parked in a narrow gravel drive and stepped out just long enough to unlock the gate and push it open. The Charger’s engine growled as he drove down two parallel lines of bare ground amid the acres of tall grass.
“You’ve worn down a path, huh?”
“This land belongs to my grandparents. There’s a pond at the bottom where Travis and I used to go fishing all the time.”
“Used to?”
He shrugged. “We’re the youngest grandkids. We lost both sets of grandparents by the time we were in middle school. Besides being busy with sports and classes in high school, it just felt wrong to fish out here without Papa.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I still had all my grandparents, and I couldn’t imagine losing any of them. “Both sets? You mean, all three sets?” I said, wondering aloud. “Oh God, I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“No, no … it’s a valid question. I get that a lot. We’re double cousins. Our dads are brothers, and our moms are sisters. I know. Weird, huh?”
“No, that’s pretty great actually.”
After we cleared a small hill, Shepley parked the Charger under a shady tree ten yards from a five-ish-acre pond. The summer heat had helped grow the cattails and lily pads, and the water was beautiful, wrinkling in the light breeze.
Shepley opened my door, and I stepped out onto freshly mowed grass. As I looked around, he ducked into the backseat, reappearing with the basket and a quilt. His arms were free of any tattoos, also unlike his heavily inked cousin. I wondered if there were any under his shirt. Then I had the sudden urge to remove his clothes to find the answer.
He spread the multicolored quilt with one flick, and it fell perfectly to the ground.
“What?” he asked. “Is it—”
“No, this is amazing. I’m just … that quilt is so beautiful. I do
n’t think I should sit on it. It looks brand-new.” The fabric was still crisp and bore creases where it had been folded.
Shepley puffed out his chest. “My mom made it. She’s made dozens. She made this for me when I graduated. It’s a replica.” His cheeks flushed.
“Of what?”
As soon as I asked the question, he winced.
I tried not to smile. “It’s a bigger version of your childhood blankie, isn’t it?”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
I sat down on the quilt and crossed my legs, patting the space beside me. “C’mere.”
“I’m not sure I can. I think I just died of embarrassment.”
I looked up at him, squinting one eye from the beam of sunlight escaping through the tree leaves above. “I have a blankie, too. Murfin is in my dorm room—under my pillow.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he sat down, placing the basket in front of him. “Blake.”
“Blake?”
“I guess I tried to say ‘blank,’ and it turned into Blake along the way.”
I smiled. “I like that you didn’t lie.”
He shrugged, still embarrassed. “I’m not very good at it anyway.”
I leaned in, nudging his shoulder with mine. “I like that, too.”
Shepley beamed and then opened the basket, pulling out a covered plate of cheese and crackers and then a bottle of zinfandel and two plastic champagne flutes.
I stifled a laugh, and Shepley chuckled.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s just … this is the cutest date I’ve ever been on.”
He poured the zin. “Is that a good thing?”
I spread Brie on a cracker and took a bite, nodding, and then a little sip of wine to wash it down. “You definitely get an A for effort.”
“Good. I don’t want it to be so cute that I’ll be friend-zoned,” he said, almost to himself.
I licked the cracker and wine from my lips, looking at his. The air between us changed. It was heavier … electric. I leaned toward him, and he made a failed attempt to hide the surprise and excitement in his eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked.
His eyebrows shot up. “You wanna … you wanna kiss me?” He looked around. “Right now?”