Beau nods.
“But he’s still the manager.” Jake is from the city and has always been nice to me, didn’t know or care much about my background.
“I hired him back, but I’ve done it all through a lawyer to keep myself anonymous. I’m totally hands-off. Except when I go in and fix the odd thing. I fixed that tap for you the other day. But I still wanted to be able to go to my favorite bar with my friends and family and just be a regular joe patron. A regular small town guy in a regular small town bar.”
“I … I don’t even know how to make sense of this. Why buy it at all?”
The smile that touches his lips is sad. “I watched you that night. I saw how hard you worked. How nervous you were. And I … ” He scrubs his hands down over his face. “I don’t know, Bailey. I guess I’ve always been impulsive where you’re concerned. Because I walked into the back and made Fred an offer on the place that he couldn’t refuse. It just didn’t feel right. Knowing what he was going to do to you.”
“That’s insane. Of course it’s not right! For a man who’s been through some shit, you’re awfully idealistic, Beau. Bad things happen to good people. You don’t need to be a hero every time. You don’t need to save everyone.”
He shrugs. “You’re not everyone.”
I stare at him, slack-jawed. I want to hug him, and I want to hit him. All at once. He is infuriating. My teeth grind as I watch him. “I’m so fucking mad at you.”
His eyes drop, but not before I see the shame there. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I wanted to. Fuck.” He wipes at his mouth and paces. “I wanted to. Jasper told me to. He’s the only person I ever told. But I knew we were too far down this path for it to not hurt you or make you feel like I was maneuvering behind your back. And, god, Bailey. The very last thing in the world I ever want to do is hurt you.”
My throat aches, constricts on itself until I’m almost nauseous.
“I actually felt like I was your partner, Beau. Like you respected me. I really felt like I was integral to you somehow. I wasn’t a project. Not some deep-cover mission. Not a pawn in you playing super soldier to scratch an itch or fool your family.”
“I do respect you. And you are integral to me. I fucking love you, Bailey.”
Love.
Whoever said love hurts wasn’t fucking lying.
“And that job? That job has always felt like proof I did something for myself, despite where I come from. Proof that I don’t need anyone’s pity. That I’m strong enough to rise above it all. That if I had the chance to show people how hard I work, they’d reward me. And you just tugged the one thing I thought I’d done with my life right out from under me. I’m utterly dependent on you, and that terrifies me. And it’s even worse because first you made me fall in l—you know what?” I wave a hand dismissively. “I need some time to get my bearings so I don’t say anything I’ll regret.”
Beau blinks rapidly, standing tall and proud. Like he’s prepared to face the consequences head on. He doesn’t tell me it’s okay, or that I’m overreacting. “That’s understandable.”
He takes all my frustration and swallows it. Like a man.
Like the flawed but good man that he is.
Like a flawed but good man who loves me.
Hold onto that.
I nod and go to close the door on him, but he stops me, stepping up and wrapping his hand around the edge of it, his fingers brushing against mine. “How long?”
My gaze bounces between the swirling metallic pools in his eyes. “As long as it takes for me to not be this mad at you.”
His lips press into a flat line as he bites down on whatever he was about to say. And then, after a beat, he repeats what he’s already told me. “Sugar, I am so sorry.”
I smile sadly and draw away from him. “I know,” is all I say as I lock myself into my lonely little trailer. And then I head back to the bed, where I lie awake all night long, analyzing my life from every angle and wondering how the hell I got here.
And how the hell I’m going to fix us so I don’t spend the rest of my life feeling like Beau Eaton’s pet project.
40
Beau
Beau: Gary wants me to tell you he’s on your side.
Bailey: He fucking better be.
Beau: I’m on your side too.
Bailey: You fucking better be.
I knock on Bailey’s door.
She said she needed time, and I don’t blame her. I’d want a break from me too. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with myself—hating myself—and obsessing over how to make this right. Last night, I went back to the bar to help out. Came back just in time to watch her swim in the river by herself from the top of the bank like a total creep. Then went to bed, where I didn’t sleep a wink and laid awake despising myself instead.