Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(82)

“Not until I finish what I was trying to say back inside the house.”

“You dumped me. What more do you want to say?”

Intensity paints every inch of his stupid, handsome face while his eyes dance back and forth between mine.

I wait for him to say something.

But he doesn’t.

“Did you forget what you wanted to say, Beau? Because I think I can’t do this anymore sums things up, don’t you?” I spit the words out, steeling myself. Trying to inflict pain. Though I think repeating his words out loud hurts me more than anyone.

His hands tighten on my body, gripping me as he pushes his knee between my legs, pinning me in place. Tears stream down my cheeks, clumping my eyelashes, and my chest aches so heavy and deep that simply breathing hurts.

The hand on my waist moves up, wiping away another tear before pushing back a lock of my carefully styled hair. “What I meant to say, Bailey … ” He emphasizes my name in a way that sends a shiver down my spine. His hand cups my head so I can’t look anywhere but straight at him. “What I meant to say is … will you go out with me?”

Everything around me comes to a screeching halt. Not only is the sentence juvenile, but it’s also just plain confusing.

“You just broke up with me.”

A boyish smile curves his sinful lips. He kisses my temple and goes back to staring me down. “If you had let me finish, I’d have told you I couldn’t keep doing it anymore because pretending this thing between us is fake is fucking killing me.”

“What?”

God, that’s what I blurt out? What?

“The only reason you got this far is because I went back into the house for the ring.”

He reaches down and pulls the teardrop-shaped diamond from his pocket, holding it between us.

“I’m done pretending to be head over heels in love with you because I’m legitimately head over heels in love with you. And acting like I’m not tears me up.”

I grip his wrists, squeezing so I can assure myself that he’s real. That this moment is real. Because it feels distinctly unbelievable.

“Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe this is impulsive. Maybe you don’t love me back. But I’ll wait. I don’t care. I’ll take my time with you. So long as I know you’re really mine, I can be patient.”

“Beau … ” My chest heaves as my brain struggles to catch up.

He doesn’t give me a chance to say any more before he’s pulling my hand down and sliding the engagement ring back onto my finger. “This belongs here,” he murmurs.

“Maybe we should just date for a bit?” God, I’m not firing on all cylinders right now. I should tell him I love him back. I should kiss him.

“Call it whatever you want, sugar. But the ring stays here.”

We both stare at the diamond, the back porch lights flitting off every brilliant facet. Our breaths come out ragged. We’re both amped up. Confused, excited, frustrated.

“Feels like bad luck to wear it when we’re not really engaged.”

“We are really engaged.” His response leaves no room for debate.

“I mean, if we’re taking our time, testing this thing out for real, you probably shouldn’t waltz around pretending you intend to marry me when you don’t.”

I swear he growls at my response. A deep rumble in his chest. A narrowing of his eyes. The vein at his temple throbs.

I hate myself. Why am I arguing with him and poking holes in his logic when this should be a dream come true?

It’s because it doesn’t feel real. Good things like this don’t happen to Bailey Jansen. Not with men like him.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking. Stop pretending this isn’t real.” He bends slightly and lifts me, picking me up easily and carrying me back toward the house. “Stop telling me what I intend to do,” he whispers against my ear. “Because I do intend to marry you. And I want you to wear that fucking ring while I show you that it’s true.”

Then he kicks the door open. Marches me up the stairs to his room. Drops me to my feet at the foot of his bed, and says, “Strip.”





34


Beau


Bailey’s eyes have widened to unbelievable size, and her lips pop open as she stares back at me. Shocked? Confused? I’m not sure, but I can tell the events of tonight have thrown her for a loop.

“Was there a part of that order you didn’t understand, Bailey?”

I step closer to her, chin tipping down to keep my gaze fixed on hers. Her tongue darts out over her bottom lip and my eyes follow it hungrily.

“Okay. So, let me get this straight.”

I nod, biting down on a smirk. She’s having a hard time accepting this. In hindsight, I should have started this conversation differently.

“We’re not faking anymore.”

“That’s right.”

“Because we both want this?”

“It seems that way.” A deep chuckle rumbles in my chest as I watch her work it out in those coal-black eyes. A darkness I actually want to get lost in.

“How do we do this? Like, we just carry on? I … ” One of her hands grips her throat. “Beau, I have all these plans.”

I skim a hand up and down her rib cage. “We’ll work it out. We don’t have to have all the answers right this second.”