“Can I come in?”
After confirming she could, I sat up and brushed my hand over my hair to smooth down the craziness that came from lying on my hair while it was wet.
“What is it?” I asked as she walked through the door and her concerned gaze fell to me.
“Beau just rang in a panic and wanted me to check on you.”
“Why?”
Her mouth screwed up. “He was worried about you because you didn’t answer your phone.”
I narrowed my eyes because her words didn’t entirely make sense. “Why would he be worried because I didn’t answer once?” The night before hadn’t had any hitches, and he had no other reason to worry. It wasn’t like there were any major issues he could have anticipated. There had been other times I hadn’t answered my phone, and he hadn’t worried so much that he’d sent someone to check on me.
She grimaced. “I might have let him know about your mystery phone call.”
“Why would you do that?” She’d deliberately worried him? As if he didn’t have enough on his plate right now trying to deal with everything between us.
“I was worried about you.”
“So you chose to ring Beau and worry him as well?” I jumped up and searched for my phone. “I can’t believe you’d do that.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that Beau asked—”
“Beau asked what? For you to be my watchdog? My babysitter?”
She stepped away from me. “He just wanted to know that you were okay.”
“So he asked you to spy on me?” It was the same old thing, proof that I couldn’t trust everyone in my life to not talk about me. Not to laugh about my screwed up mind behind my back.
“No. It’s not—”
“I thought you were supposed to be my friend, not Beau’s nanny-cam.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything; I was only trying to help.”
“Just get out.” I curled up on my bed, unwilling to talk to her any longer. I would only snap at her if I did as irritation burned away my fear.
Angel didn’t issue another word before leaving the room. Once the door had shut, I called Beau.
“Darlin’, ya worried me.”
“No. Angel worried you. For no reason, I should add.” It was hard to fight the bitterness in my voice. “She shouldn’t have called you. You two shouldn’t be talking about me behind my back.”
“Don’t take it out on Angel. She was worried about ya.”
“I don’t appreciate the two of you ganging up on me. I know things aren’t always easy for me, and I have bad days, but knowing that the two of you are chatting about those, making comments to each other about how screwed up I am on a day by day basis, it doesn’t help me. It makes me feel like you’re talking behind my back—and it’s taking away the little power I do have.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I don’t want ya to feel that way.”
I sighed. I couldn’t stay mad at him, or Angel for that matter. Not really. “Just promise it won’t happen again.”
“I jus’ want ya to be happy, whatever that takes.”
“I know.”
“What was botherin’ you this mornin’?”
“You mean Angel didn’t fill you in on all the gory details?”
“She jus’ said you got a phone call that upset ya. Who was it?”
I explained the details of the call, and we spent a couple of minutes trying to figure out who might have called, and how she might have gotten my number, but without more information, we were both a little lost.
Once I’d finished on the phone with Beau, I dressed into some normal clothes again and went in search of Angel. I wanted to apologise and ask her whether she still wanted to try for the movie. Only, I couldn’t find her anywhere. I even knocked on her bedroom door, but there was no answer.
I had no idea where she might have gone, but I did know I’d driven her away.
BY THE TIME Beau got home, Angel had appeared again. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was a little distant, even after I apologised.
After dinner, I called Mum and Dad to discuss the plan for me for the Gold Coast 600. I disappeared to Beau’s room to get some privacy while I did. When I came back out, I found Angel and Beau in the kitchen. She had her face buried against his chest, and his arms were wrapped around her. Her body shook a little as sobs rocked her.
I dropped my head knowing I was responsible for the scene.
Before either of them could spot me, I headed back to the bedroom Beau and I shared. Although I wanted to break down, I didn’t. I didn’t make a single sound to pull Beau away from comforting Angel. She deserved it, and I couldn’t give it to her. She wouldn’t let me, and I had no right to ask for that either.
Things should have been great between the three of us, but they seemed to get worse every day.
When Beau came to look for me, I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want to deal with the guilt that would twist around me as he offered his gentle words. He wouldn’t be cross with me, even though I deserved it. He would remind me of all the good times Angel and I had shared, and reassure me that we’d get that back one day. That we were special.
I was certain my deception was revealed seconds later when he climbed in bed. I was purposefully stiff and ready for his touch so I wouldn’t flinch away. His hand found my hip and then he whispered my name again. I couldn’t do it any longer. The damn broke, and my tears started again. Beau didn’t ask what was wrong, didn’t offer any words, just held me while I cried until I fell asleep for real.
The next morning, Beau was still in bed with me. His arms were still wrapped around me.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
His presence in the morning on a weekday was unusual lately. He’d been spending so much time in the office strategizing and getting ready for the Gold Coast 600. Even though he was on the comms because of me, he was working together with Dad and Matt—the existing race controller. From what Dad had told me, Beau had brought some great new ideas to the team but had also learned a great deal about the format that would come in handy for his own turn in the cars—both in the production car and the ProV8.
“I was fixin’ to spend the day together,” he said, nuzzling against my neck.
“And this has nothing to do with what happened yesterday?”
“I’ve been missing ya too. Everythin’ has been focused on the races, and I think we need some wind-down time to reconnect.”
“I actually like the sound of that. I should probably apologise to Angel again first though.”
“Ya can’t, she’s gone to her mama’s.”
I scowled at the mention of Lydia. The foul woman was the cause of so much trauma in Angel’s childhood, but Angel went back again and again because she was family.
We rolled over so that I was tucked up against him as he spooned me. “She ain’t stayin’ there, she promised me she’d be home by two, or I could go rescue her.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t happy, but I’d lost my place to say anything when I was the one making her cry. “So what’s the plan?”
“I dunno. What makes you happy?”
“You.”
He chuckled. “What else?”
“Being in the car. At least, it used to.”
“Let’s try this ag’in, shall we? What’s one of your happiest memories from when you were li’l? Something that makes ya smile.”
“I remember making cookies with Nana Dawson.”
His smile turned nostalgic. “Mabel and Abby used to do that together.”
I traced my fingers over his smile. “Did you help?”
His laughter was everything. “I used to help ’em with the eatin’.”
“Considering the way you fed me when we were in Georgia, that doesn’t surprise me. What’re your favourites?”
“Ya can’t beat a good chocolate chip cookie, ‘specially when they’re warm.”
By the time we’d finished the conversation, we’d gone online to get a rec
ipe and made a shopping list of the things we’d need.
“What d’ya think, darlin’, d’ya feel like headin’ to the store?”
It was something I would have to do eventually, especially if I was going to be living away from home. “I think I can do that.”
We made a quick trip to the local Coles and grabbed all the things we needed to make a double batch of chocolate chip cookies. We figured we could take some over to share with my family later that night.
When we arrived home, we worked in tandem to get everything set up and measured. Together, we moved around the small kitchen in almost perfect sync. It was so utterly normal. Domestic. It proved that I could have some normal days.
It didn’t take us long to figure out that all the bowls in Beau’s house were too small to make a huge batch, so we decided to do the recipe as it stood and just make two lots. I creamed the sugar and butter for the first batch.
Beau dropped the eggs in one at a time while I continued to beat it all together. He added the vanilla and a few other ingredients while I kept mixing. We were halfway through the recipe when his mobile phone chimed. After checking that I was okay to continue on my own, he rushed off to check the message. I set the bowl down on the bench and then reached for the cup of flour Beau had measured and sifted before disappearing.
Beau returned just as I was adding the chocolate chips. “Angel’s leaving her mama’s now, but she has a few errands to run for school before she comes home.”
Once upon a time, it would’ve been my phone she called to let us know that sort of thing. It would’ve been me she communicated with and who held her when she was upset. I needed to find a way to fix us. She’d made so much effort, and I’d thrown it all back in her face.
No more.
I would be the friend I used to be again. The friend she deserved.
The thoughts stole my attention, and I got lost in my own mind.
“Is it ready, darlin’?”
I jumped when Beau spoke. “Huh?”
“You’ve been beatin’ that dough for almost a minute.” He stepped forward and grabbed the bowl from me before setting it down on the counter.
“I guess I’m just a little distracted.”
He stepped forward and brushed his hand through my hair. “I’ll tell ya the same thing I told Angel last night. Things’ll get better between the two of ya. You’re too good together for ’em not to.”
A sardonic bark of laughter left me. “How did we get to the place where you have to play piggy in the middle between me and my best friend?”
His gaze travelled over my face before meeting my eyes, but he didn’t answer my question. It was mostly rhetorical anyway. I knew the how, and the why, what I didn’t know was how to fix it.
“I hope we did an okay job on this batch,” I said to break the tension of the moment. “It’s been a while since I’ve done any baking at all.”
A grin tipped his lips and something sparkled in his eyes. “Only one way to find out.”
Before I could do anything more, he ran his index finger through the batter and stuck it straight into his mouth. He hummed around the digit, and his eyes flashed with mischief, it made him look like a young boy ready to get into trouble.
“You can’t judge the final product on the dough,” I said.
He washed and dried his hands. “Now that ain’t true. A bad dough ain’t ever gonna bake a good cookie.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Is it good?”
“Delicious, but I expected nothin’ less.” He dipped his finger into the mix again. This time he lifted his finger to my lips. “Why don’t ya try it?”
I stared into his eyes for a few moments and then grabbed his hand and brought his fingers to my lips. With our gazes locked, I sucked the dough off his finger. I tried to live in the moment, and hoped to God he didn’t think it would mean I was ready to . . .
Maybe I’d gotten to the point where I was comfortable having sex with Beau again, but there were certain things I couldn’t contemplate doing, even with him. Acts forever tainted by what I had endured at Bee’s hands.
My stomach dropped, and I pushed my tongue against Beau’s finger to expel it from my mouth as fast as possible. Clearly sensing that something was bothering me and that I needed a moment to myself to recover, he reached forward to grab the baking tray and the flour to dust the surface. Only the bag wasn’t sealed properly and when he lifted it near his face, giving it an accidental squeeze, a plume of flour shot into the air.
Watching as the white powder settled on one side of his face and into his hair, I had to laugh. It was just the distraction I’d needed. He raised a brow at me. “Are ya sure ya wanna laugh at me?”
The sight of him, and the serious tone of his voice, made me laugh harder. I doubled over as the tension from the last few days was forced from my stomach by the heaving cackles.
Hiding a smile, he brushed the flour off the counter and into his hand. I thought he was going to put it into the bin or wash it off in the sink, but with a smirk, he blew it in my direction.
I cringed out of the way but still copped a face-full.
“Told ya not to laugh.”
“You arse!” I laughed as the words left me. As I said them though, an idea for payback struck. I dug my hand into the cookie dough and sent a glob of it in his direction. It landed on the front of his shirt, hung there for a few seconds, and then fell away to the floor.
“Oh, darlin’, now you’re gonna pay.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he reached for the bowl.
Because I was a little closer to it than him, I yanked the dough away and hid it behind my back, running backwards away from the kitchen. “No, you don’t!”
Halfway out of the kitchen, I twisted so the bowl was in front of me and huddled over it as I made a break for the bedroom. While I ran, I scooped another handful of dough up, ready to use it as a projectile.
Because I didn’t hear Beau behind me, I spun to see where he was, only to find him closer than I expected. I pressed the hand filled with dough towards his face, smooshing it over his mouth. He captured my hand in his, causing a jolt of memory to rush through me. Before I could fall into the past though, he changed his hold so that he was only guiding my hand. Wondering what he was doing, I paused long enough for him to act. His tongue slipped forward to lick his lips, and then he captured my fingertips with his mouth, sucking them clean.
My eyes half-closed at the sensation, and he struck when I was at my weakest—reaching for the bowl behind me.
“No!” I squealed, twisting the bowl out of the way and tugging my hand free of his hold. I leapt away from him and raced to the living room.
Beau was right behind me as I ran. He reached for the bowl on my right side, so I held it out to my left. He rounded on me, reaching for it on my left, but I swapped hands again. A moment later, he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me over his shoulder. I squealed again, and a barrage of giggles left me at the same time. I held the bowl out as far as I could behind him, not willing to risk him getting hold of it with a quick snatch. He set me down on the table and reached for the bowl. I passed it quickly between each hand before centring it and pushing it as far back as I could, ready to protect the dough with everything I had.
As I sat panting from a combination of the short runs, the fear, and the laughter, Beau’s gaze darkened and focused on my lips and my chest. Before I could recover enough to process the shift, his lips were on mine and his arm was around my waist. He loosened his hold a little as my body naturally flinched to the speed of his touch, but didn’t back away because I wasn’t pushing him off.
The taste of the cookie dough lingered on his lips and tongue as he kissed me.
While I was distracted by his kiss, he pulled the bowl closer to him and scooped up some dough. Instead of tossing it at me, he fed the small amount to me before kissing me again. His appreciative hum sent my body wild.
He made short work of my shirt, lifting it over my head, and then
pulled my bra off too. I’d barely prepared myself when his lips were on my chest. It took everything I had to stay balanced and not fall back against the table top.
Moving lower, he unbuttoned my shorts and tugged them off with my panties when I lifted my hips off the table. He was like a man possessed, and I wasn’t going to complain. The instant I was naked in front of him, he pushed me gently down to the table and ran his hands across my body.
He grabbed a chair from beside him, setting it down so he could sit between my legs.
“Oh, darlin’. I think you might be the favourite thing I’ve had at this table.” The instant his words were free, he kissed my inner thighs one at a time.
“Fuck, Beau. Fuck.” The last word was drawn out of me in a long moan as he sucked my clit between his teeth before running his tongue back and forth over the nub.
One of his long fingers slipped inside of me, joined shortly after by another. I was just about at the limit of what I could take without falling apart when he stopped and stood. The flour still clung to his hair, and a smear of chocolate still stained his cheek.
I made a vocal complaint about him stopping that made him chuckle.
“Relax, darlin’, I’ll make sure ya feel real good before we’re done.” It was his version of dirty talk, and it got me hotter than any swear words and innuendo ever would.
He unfastened his jeans and pushed his boxer-briefs down just far enough to free himself. With the hand he’d had inside me, he ran his hands through the cookie dough left in the bowl and took a scoop in his fingers. He sucked the chocolate-chip cookie mix off his fingers. Even as he made that move, he used his other hand to line himself up with me.
When he pushed inside me, he brought his mouth to mine. He tasted sweet and sinful all at once. As he thrust his hips, he alternated between kissing me and feeding me bits of the dough. It was like the s’mores around the campfire taken to the ultimate level.
Feeling bold, I took a scoop of dough too, feeding him a little off my fingers before running my hand down his chest. With an impish grin, he copied the movement. I was certain his intention had been to lick the dough off, but when my mouth found his earlobe, and I breathed across his neck, his thrusting grew more erratic, and his arms rushed underneath me to circle around my waist and pull me to a sitting position—holding me close to him. His hand pressed the dough that remained on his fingers against my bare arse cheek, but I could barely concentrate on that as he took me closer to the edge.
Phantom (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #5) Page 9
