But we both know better. When we leave this shed, it’s back to reality.
She smooths her hair, rubs at the corner of her eyes, and shimmies her shoulders back. “How do I look?”
I stare at her for a few beats. What a woman.
What an incredible fucking woman.
She deserves the goddamn world.
And I’m going to be the one to give it to her.
“Like mine,” I say with a firm nod.
Then I reach for her hand and lead her back into the bar, straight into the fire. Because the minute we step through the front door, I see her brothers leaning at the bar, impatience practically dripping from them. As though they couldn’t wait five fucking minutes for a beer.
“Hey, Bails. If you’re done playing the Eaton’s whore, we need another round,” Aaron, the younger of the two, calls out loudly through the busy bar. He’s trying to show off by embarrassing her, and it works.
She tugs her hand from mine and shrinks beside me as all eyes turn to her.
I watch a woman who was so alive and so sure of herself mere moments ago turn back into the girl she’s trying so desperately to grow out of.
She didn’t want a scene, but I think a scene is what she needs to break free of this place.
I know I’ll pay for what I’m about to do, and I should have come clean a long time ago. But if it means Bailey comes out ahead … then so fucking be it. Haven’t left a man behind on a mission so far in this life, and I have no plans to start now.
“You three!” I point in turn at her brothers and then at her dad in the corner, all lean muscle and shrewd eyes.
“Beau,” she hisses through her teeth and tugs at my shirt. “Don’t do this. It’s not your place.”
I tilt my head and gaze down at her, memorizing the little freckle beside her upper lip just in case I never get close enough to see it again. “Yeah, it actually is.”
Confusion flashes on her face, and I turn back to the now mostly quiet bar where every set of eyes in the place is turned on me. Then I project my voice, so every single person hears me loud and clear. “You three, get the fuck out of my bar! Or I’ll have the cops come remove you from my property this time.”
Bailey gasps, but I don’t stop there. “And anyone else who plans to treat my fiancée and my staff with anything less than the utmost respect, you can get out too.”
I turn to the woman I love to see if I can gauge what kind of damage my secret has caused. All it takes is one beat spent in her eyes for me to see the damage might be more than I can repair.
39
Bailey
My bar. My staff.
Shouts ring out around me and a dull song I’ve heard a million times plays over the speakers, but all I hear is the pounding of my heart, the blood rushing in my ears.
I stare at the polished wood floor. It used to be more scuffed. The chairs? They used to look dated. Brass chandeliers replaced dingy hanging lamps. The Railspur became country chic somewhere along the way …
Under new ownership was the town gossip, but I never cared much. I had a job that paid reasonably well. I kept my head down and worked. Management never changed, and the company signed my checks. The story was that there was a silent investor. Someone hands-off.
I pull my eyes back from the floor, catching on Beau. All I can do is shake my head. “No.”
His features are stone as he stares back at me, giving nothing away—except the vein that runs down over his temple is pulsing.
One, two, three.
His heart beats.
My heart beats.
He stares at me while I try to catch up.
“Since when?”
“A few years now.”
A few years.
God.
The ache in my chest has me gasping for breath. It could take me to my knees if I let it.
“Trouble in paradise, sissy?” Aaron taunts, the stench of his breath filling the air around me as he leans in close.
It’s the swat of my dad’s grizzled hand that pulls him back. My dad was always swatting us. Sometimes harder than others.
My own father says nothing to me as he passes by; instead, he mutters to my brothers, “You fools trying to get me sent back to the clink? Get out.”
I erupt.
“Yes! Get out!” My voice is loud and strong and brimming with years of frustration. My hand doesn’t even shake as I point at the door. “Go to jail. Go to hell. Go dig a hole six feet deep and stay there. I don’t fucking care. But go away. Far, far away from me and my life. I am done!”
I can feel every goddamn eye in the place on me. Like people are confused by the fact that I don’t seem chummy with my family.