“Security Pass, please.”
Okay. What?
Billie stared at the guy and shrugged. “Um, I don’t have one.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t open the gate.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, Miss. I’m not.”
Billie thumped her fingers along the top of the steering wheel and tried her best to sound as if she wasn’t pissed the hell off.
“Do you know who I am?” Okay. She winced at that because A) it sounded lame and B) more than a little desperate.
“No,” he replied. “I don’t. If you had a security pass we wouldn’t have a problem.”
“Well that’s not working for me and I’m not going anywhere so you may as well let me in.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t deviate from my orders and my orders are not to allow anyone in without a pass.”
“Unreal,” she muttered, spying Matt Hawkins in the distance. She honked her horn, which drew a heavy frown from the security guy.
“I’m going to have to ask you to turn your vehicle around so that the service trucks can make their way inside.”
Okay. Take a minute. Billie had a temper and at the moment it was taking everything she had to keep a level head.
“Look, Mr. Security Dude. That house belongs to my sister. The girl who’s getting married here later? She’s my sister too. I need to get inside, because in addition to all of that, my son is in that house and I haven’t seen him since last night, so I suggest that you open that gate or we’re going to have a problem.”
Indecision crept into the man’s eyes and he glanced back at the house.
“Oh my God!” Billie exploded.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I was instructed not to let anyone enter without a pass.”
“Hold on,” she retorted, reaching for her cell.
It rang three times and she set it to speaker so the security guard wouldn’t miss anything.
“Hey,” Bobbi said, finally answering. “I thought you’d be here by now.”
“I would if I could get past security. Apparently you forgot to give me a pass or something.”
“I gave them to Logan. Where’s he?”
“He had to swing by his shop for a few hours and then he’s bringing Gramps out.”
“Oh. Okay. Gotcha.” Billie heard someone yelling in the background. “It’s crazy town around here right now. Matt’s finally got the PA working so we’ll actually have music to dance to, and the florists are here though the damn roses are still nowhere to be found. And Duke’s been here since—“
“I don’t care about any of that. Let me the hell in!”
“Holy. I wasn’t expecting you to be such a grump. Not after a night of hot sex.” Her sister giggled. “I heard you and Logan went at in The Grill. Seriously, Billie? You guys? I expect that from Betty not you.”
“Bobbi.”
“Gotta give it to you girlie. Shane and I have had sex in a lot of weird places but never in a public bar. Did anyone see you?
“What? Eeewww. No, of course not.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time Shane and I had sex in the basement of the church?”
“Bobbi, you’re on speaker.”
“Oh, shit.”
Billie glanced up at the security guard and offered a small smile.
“Carson,” Bobbi said. “I’m calling your radio right now.”
His device lit up and less than a minute later Billie was parking her vehicle. She waved to Matt and ran inside, anxious to see her son. She pushed open the door and yelled.
“Abel! Mommy’s here!”
She heard her son before she saw him and was just slipping out of her boots when he came out of the library, chubby legs moving as fast as they could go. Billie scooped him up into her arms and kissed him all over, loving the sound of his giggles.
When she had her fill, she let him squirm out of her grasp, aware that she wasn’t alone any longer. A tall man with dark, closely cropped hair and equally dark eyes leaned against the doorframe, watching the two of them. Dressed casually in faded jeans, his T-shirt looked as if it had been washed many times over. Green Day was the insignia across his chest and Billie thought it suited him.
The guy looked like a rebel and more than a little dangerous.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Billie.”
“So,” he replied, shoving away from his perch and taking a step toward her. “There really are three.”
She smiled. That was a line she’d been hearing her whole life.
“It would appear so.”
He offered his hand and Billie took it. “Nice to meet you. I’m Beau’s cousin, Maverick. But you can call me Rick.”
Maverick. That rang a bell. Partly because he’d written a hit song with Donovan James and they’d performed it at the CMA’s, but mostly because he was dating Elle Mason, a Hollywood wild child who was always in the tabloids.
“You look different,” she said, studying him carefully. Geez, were all the Simon men this hot in person?
“It’s the hair,” he said with a grin. “Lost a bet and most of it came off a few weeks ago.”
“Oh. That sucks.” Shit, Billie. Stop talking.
“Nah. I lost the girlfriend at about the same time and the truth is, I don’t miss either one.”
“There you are.”
They both turned as Betty Jo walked into the foyer, and to say that Billie was shocked was a bit of an understatement. First off, she hadn’t been expecting her sister until later in the afternoon. And secondly, well, there wasn’t any other way to put it.
“Jesus, Betty. You look like shit.”
“Nice to see you too,” Betty replied.
Billie frowned. “When did you guys get here? Did you sneak into town early?”
Betty Jo opened her mouth to answer and then held up her hand. “Shit,” she managed to say, before turning to the table beside her, and tossed her cookies all over the large red poinsettia.
Wow, thought Billie. Shit is right.
Chapter Eleven
Beau Simon stared out at the cars that lined the driveway and filled the temporary parking lot behind the converted barn. In about an hour, he was going to make Betty Jo Barker his wife and damn, but he was going crazy with the need to see her. A smile crept over his features as he slicked his blond hair back. Who knew she’d be such a stickler and insist that they not see each other twelve hours before the big event?
“It’s snowing again,” his cousin Cooper said, joining him at the window.
Beau nodded. “I think it’s going to snow most of the night.”
“I like it,” Cooper said taking a sip from his tumbler. “Reminds me of when we were kids and we’d head up to your family’s place on the lake. Spend the entire day playing hockey and building forts in the trees.”
“We used to use Maverick for target practice,” Beau chuckled.
“Yeah,” Cooper replied softly. “Those were good times.”
The men were silent for a few seconds, both seemingly lost in thought.
Beau sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tux. He glanced across the room, to where his father Noah, was having an animated conversation with Herschel Barker. The two had a passion for all living things, one of the reasons the Simon Foundation spent huge amounts of dollars on the preservation of wildlife. At the moment the two men were discussing the plight of the honeybee. Besides Logan Forest and Shane Gallagher, his brother Tucker, and cousin Maverick were gathered around them as was his older brother Jack. Seeing all the Simon boys together, especially at Christmas, had Beau feeling more than a little emotional. Partly because it had been a while since he’d seen them all in one place, but mostly because there should have been one more.
“Any news of Teague?” Cooper asked, eyes still on the view outside. It was as if he was a mind reader.
Beau shook his head, mouth tight. “No. he’s gone dark and no one’s been able to get hold of him for over a week. We thought…
” He had to pause. Had to work hard to keep his emotions in check. “I thought he was going to be here, you know? Last time we talked, he was looking forward to coming up for the wedding and spending the holidays with us.”
“He’s where exactly?” Cooper asked.
“Syria, I believe.”
“Shit.”
That was an understatement. “He was offered an assignment but it’s under the radar because it’s being run by the guy who ran his old Seal unit.”
“So he’s not there working for a magazine or paper.”
Beau shook his head. “No. I’m not sure what it’s all about, but he seemed determined to go. Said that it was a good thing that he was doing and not to worry.”
After a brief stint as a Navy Seal, his brother had pursued two passions—writing and photography. And like the adrenaline junkies that the Simon men were, in the span of a few years he’d become one of the worlds most celebrated photojournalists because he would go anywhere for a story. The more danger there was, the more interested he became. It’s what set him apart from the pack. It’s what made him a Simon.
Beau was all for following a dream and living your passion, Lord knows he’d done it in his own life, but the last time he’d seen his brother, something was different. It felt as if a piece of Teague had gone missing. As if he’d left it behind in one of the many hell holes that he’d been to. It had bothered Beau so much, he’d mentioned it to Tucker, but if Teague’s twin knew anything, he wasn’t giving it up.
“Teague said there would be times that he wouldn’t be able to get in touch with us, so we’re not raising any red flags just yet. Jack’s got his ear to the ground as well, but still, it’s hard.” Beau watched his father and thought of his mother. “Mom’s putting on a good show, yet I know she’s worried.”
“That’s normal. It’s her kid. And Syria is a dangerous place to be,” Cooper replied, with a sidelong glance. “But Teague wouldn’t want you thinking about this, wouldn’t want you worrying about him on your wedding day.”
“I know,” Beau replied.
“So how’s about you come with me and I’ll pour you a scotch.”
The men were gathered in a small private room that Shane Gallagher used as an office. A temporary bar had been set up and Beau thought that maybe a shot of something stronger than water would help settle his nerves.
He accepted a Scotch from Cooper. Herschel Barker raised his own glass and tipped his head to the side.
“First off, the twins don’t need to know that this is not apple juice. We’re clear on that?” He glanced at each and every one. “I don’t need them fussing when I’m on the wrong side of eighty and don’t care all that much that whiskey and my medication don’t mix.” His face opened into a wide smile. “Truth be told, this here apple juice is making me feel pretty damn good. Merry Christmas and cheers.”
Everyone raised their glass and took a sip of ‘apple juice’ though the room grew quiet when Herschel cleared his throat, his laughter fading, his eyes serious as they settled on Beau.
The old man squared his shoulders and refused help from Shane as he struggled to his feet. Leaning against the desk, Herschel took a few moments, his knee, obviously painful as he moved a bit until he was comfortable. When he spoke, his voice was low and Beau had to concentrate in order to hear him properly.
“These last few years have been hard on us Barkers. With Trent failing and my twins at a crossroad, there were nights when I couldn’t sleep from worry.” Herschel glanced to his right. “Logan and Shane, you two are part of our family, the girls are truly blessed to have such fine men by their side. I’m not surprised that they chose well. I never worried about Billie or Bobbi. I always knew they’d find their way, but Betty…”
Herschel’s eyes got misty and Beau decided that he didn’t much care for the lump that was now in his throat. Christ, he needed to keep it together at least until after the ceremony.
“My Betty was the one I worried about the most when it came to her personal situation. Not always, mind you. This girl was the fearless child. The child who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘boundary’ or ‘no’ for that matter.”
“She still doesn’t,” Cooper piped up, drawing a few chuckles.
Herschel smiled. “That may be, and I’m glad to hear it because there was a time when the light that made her special, the one that made her different…well that light was snuffed out and I was scared that it would never come back.”
Herschel raised his glass once more and tipped his head. “Beau, you brought her light back to us. You’ve helped her become the woman I always knew she could be. Out of the three girls, she is the most like her mother, Chantal and it’s an absolute joy to see how she lights up when you’re around. Thank you for loving my granddaughter, but more importantly, thank you for believing in her and for bringing her back to us. I appreciate it more than you can know and Trent does as well.” Herschel paused, as if trying for some kind of control. “I have to believe he knows it,” he said fiercely.
“Here, here,” said Logan. “To Betty and Beau.”
“Guys,” Shane said, after setting his tumbler on the bar. “It’s about that time. We should head out.”
Logan helped Herschel back into his wheelchair and the men filed out of the room. His father stopped and gave Beau a bear hug that could have crushed a smaller man and when Noah Simon shook Beau’s hand, he tried to speak, but that damn lump had him mumbling a bunch of crap that didn’t make any sense.
“You’re almost there, son,” Noah said with a chuckle. “You did good.”
Beau watched his father slip out and then turned to his brothers, Tucker and Jack.
“This is it,” Beau said. He was ready. Hell, he was more than ready to make an honest woman out of Betty. Ready for the entire world to know she was his in every way that mattered.
Jack handed each of them a shot glass. “One last drink for a Christmas to remember, another wedding to celebrate, and to Teague, wherever the hell he is.”
The three men stared at each other and then clinked their shot glasses together before downing them whole. Beau savored the sensation as the fire worked its way down his throat. He let Jack straighten his tie, fix his pocket square and then nodded to Tucker, who had a big grin on his face.
“What?” he asked, as they headed for the door that would take them out into the main room of the converted barn where the ceremony was to be held.
“I find it amusing that a guy who’s played in the World Series, a guy who’s been to the Oscars for Christ sake is shitting bricks right now.”
Beau reached for the doorknob. He would have answered his brother with something smart—maybe something sarcastic. (Hell, why would Tucker bring that up at this moment?) But since he was more nervous than he could ever remember being, including the game he’d pitched during the World Series, he kept his mouth shut.
Because his brother was in fact, correct.
Chapter Twelve
Betty Jo Barker stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried like hell not to cry.
Oh God, keep your shit together.
She thought of puppies and rainbows and the most decadent chocolate peanut butter ice cream that there was. She tried to envision Beau in the morning, half asleep with his hair ruffled and that smile that she adored. She even thought of Prince William (okay, so she had a thing for the Royal Ginger), but nothing worked.
She tried everything that she could think of to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. The damn mascara was going to have to be re-applied.
“Shit,” she muttered, reaching for a tissue. The last twelve hours had been so hard. Anything that could have gone wrong did. The worst being that her custom-made, haute couture wedding dress was nowhere to be found. It’s a wonder she hadn’t lost her mind along with most of the food she tried to eat.
“Are you okay?” her sister Bobbi asked. “Feeling better?”
She nodded, studying herself in the mirror. Her stomach was
finally settled, thank God.
“The flu run its course?” Bobbi asked
“Yep. I’m good.” I hope.
Betty bent closer to the mirror and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “Mother-trucker,” she whispered fiercely, trying her best to clean up the mess.
“Mother-trucker?” her sisters asked at the same time.
Betty shrugged. “Beau bet me a new Louis Vuitton bag that I couldn’t get through the day without swearing. Mother-trucker is my way of getting around that and still being able to collect.”
Billie giggled. “Only you.”
Betty took a step back and exhaled, glad that her stomach had settled a bit.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Bobbi said, coming up behind her and resting her chin on Betty’s shoulder.
For a moment Betty couldn’t say anything. The three girls stared at their reflection in the mirror—her sisters in pale champagne, and Betty in their mother’s wedding gown.
The dress had been handed down from their grandmother, a woman who’d been a huge fan of Jackie O, and this dress had been her homage to her idol. Raw silk, it was a strapless A-line that fell in a gentle line to her feet. The bodice was beaded and a little snug, but Betty didn’t think Beau would mind.
She smiled at the thought. Besides, her breasts nearly falling out of her dress should give some of the old biddies her gramps had insisted she invite something to talk about. It’s the least they expected from Betty Jo Barker, and Betty was all about pleasing people these days.
“I don’t know what I would have done without this, Bobbi. Walk down the aisle in a damn nightgown I guess.”
“It was weird timing, really. I was cleaning out the attic last week and came across some old photos and clothes. The dress box just happened to be on top and for some reason, I grabbed it and brought it home with me.”
“It’s like Mom knew, you know?” Billie said, softly. “It’s like she’s here with us.”
Throat tight, Betty nodded. She’d been thinking about her mother a lot lately. Wondering what the woman would have been like if she’d lived past her twenties. Would they be friends?
A Barker Family Christmas Page 7
