Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(40)

“New socks are making all the difference. Got some of these double-lined ones to reduce friction and a super thin wool pair. See?” He stretches a foot out toward the end of the table, but his monologue about shoes and socks is barely registering. “Come onnnnn.”

I think it’s sweet how he’s trying to save his dad from this moment. For a guy who wanted his family to stop paying him so much attention, he sure is happy to throw himself center stage.

Beau crosses his arms and gazes away from everyone dramatically. “Why is no one asking me how fast I can run in my new shoes? Being an adult sucks.”

And it’s Luke who comes to his rescue, drawing a few chuckles. “I’ll race you, Uncle Beau!”

“Do you really think my dad is hooking up with my dead mom’s little sister?”

It’s the first thing Beau says to me when I pull up beside him at his house and step out of my truck. We met at the main house for dinner and drove back separately.

“Yes.”

“But like … how?” He slams his door and rounds his truck, meeting me at the front grill of mine. His eyes are wide, and he looks … adorably naive.

“I—” My head quirks at him. “Well, I don’t have any first-hand experience with how it works, but I’ve done extensive video research. I think the basics are that he would put his—”

His hand covers my mouth. “Whatever you do, never finish that sentence. We’re talking about my dad.”

I laugh against his palm and nod my head.

When he removes his hand, I hold his gaze and shrug. “I think it’s nice he has someone.”

Beau scrubs at the back of his neck, clearly trying to work his brain around the familiar way Cordelia and Harvey had held hands at dinner.

“I guess. Kinda weird that it’s my mom’s sister.”

“Is it? Maybe it makes perfect sense it wouldn’t threaten her. Maybe it’s okay for your dad to still love her because they both love her? Or like,” I shrug. “Maybe it’s nice for them to have her in common?”

Beau winces. “She died a long time ago. It’s just weird. He’s never brought someone around. And he hasn’t told us anything.”

“It’s almost like you don’t need to tell your family every single thing that happens in your personal life, huh?”

He points at me and says, “Fair,” while walking closer.

I thought the heat coming from the front of my truck was uncomfortable to lean against, but the way Beau is stalking toward me has me pressing back against it like it’s the more comfortable option.

His black sneakers come almost close enough to stub my toes through the tips of my sandals.

“Nice shoes, soldier. They look fast.” I toss him a wink and cross my arms, trying to be casual.

Probably failing.

“They are.” His eyes assess me. “How’s the trailer treating ya?”

I swallow. “Great. Wonderful. I love my trailer.”

“Pretty hot these days.”

Again, his breath is a cool breeze.

“Sure is.”

“Still holding out on my AC offer?” He quirks a brow and mirrors my crossed arm position. And he oozes … promise.

I don’t know how else to put it. He’s not even touching me, and in this moment, I know exactly what he’s promising.

Touch. Pleasure. Experience.

He said he wouldn’t have sex with me, but what about everything else? It seems improbable. Looking at him, he’s like a big, cocky Adonis.

It seems like a bad idea.

But he’s also your fiancé. You trust him. He’s so damn good to you.

I’m ovulating. That’s the only reason my brain is rationalizing this to me.

I let my gaze slide down his thick body and land on the crotch of his shorts. They’re fitted … ish.

Maybe that’s why I can see a bulge so clearly. The really big bulge.

It’s just the clothes. Not a real boner.

That would be absurd.

“Please let me know what I owe you for the set of tires.”

He ignores me. “Just you alone, up sweating all night. I can imagine it.”

“I’m climatized,” I squeak, actually spinning and rolling myself against the hood of my truck to escape him.

“Bullshit.” He chuckles, watching me flee.

“Love the heat,” I toss over my shoulder, dreading how hot my trailer will be when I open that door. I’m exhausted from poor sleep and easily agitated from being so hot for so many days.

“Why are you running from me?” he calls, and I can detect the smug note in his voice. He knows what he does to me. How could he not? I showed him my hard nipples the other day. What am I supposed to do now? Deny it?

“You scared, sugar?”

Dick.

“Have fun doing more extensive video research.”

Fucking dick.

“Might do some of my own tonight too.”

I trip. My flip-flop jams into the grass, and my cheeks flare as I finally reach for the door handle, fiddling with the keys.

“Back door’s open if you need some AC! Or live inspiration!”

I throw myself into the most unbearable heat I can imagine.

But somehow, even the unbearable heat is more bearable than having to face Beau after that toe-curling invite.