He pulls back. “But you’re Virginia Sawyer’s granddaughter, and that guy was looking for trouble.”
“Pretty much,” I say, my heart thrumming as we look at each other.
“You can press charges, Gemma,” he says.
I shake my head. “I just want to forget about it.”
He nods. “It’s your call.” His brow knits slightly, then his nose twitches.
“It’s you,” I say. “You smell bad.”
He brings his shirt closer to his nose and sniffs. “Nah. Not me. Must be you.” He winks.
Xena’s yelps get louder as she paws at our legs, and Beau looks down at her. “Okay, okay! Xena, Warrior Princess is getting jealous.” He bends down and picks her up, and shestarts attacking his face, licking it feverishly. “It’s good to see you too, Z. Let’s get me out of this shirt, though.”
Yes!
For a split second, I’m worried I said that out loud, but Beau gives no indication he heard it. I have no idea why he’s suddenly here like a knight in shining, beer-soaked armor and how Miami went. Is his being back early a good sign for me?
We head for his house as he tries to keep Xena’s frenetic energy under control. She charges through the front door, stopping about ten feet in to make sure we’re still following behind.
“Ugh,” Beau says. “I smell awful. Why didn’t you say something?” He takes off his shirt, and my breath along with it.
I catch sight of the scar on his stomach again just before he disappears into the laundry room.
“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I call, taking a seat at the island in the kitchen. I’m burning with curiosity for the reason of his early return, but I sound casual enough.
He doesn’t answer my question. All I get is the sound of him rifling through things in the other room.
Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe he and Miss Miami are on the outs, and he’s gutted inside.That’swhy I saw a peek of his angry side tonight—all of his emotions are just below the surface.
He emerges a few seconds later, still shirtless.Good grief, that’s a beautiful torso.
“Tristan must’ve moved my clean laundry to my room,” he says.
I smile, but it’s forced becausewhat about my question?
“I’ll be right back.” He disappears again—to find a shirt, I presume. Which is a real shame.
If he doesn’t want to talk about things, I don’t want to force it. I should probably just give him the update on Xena and leave.
He reappears a few seconds later, pulling on a black V-neckT-shirt. “There,” he says, satisfied. “How’d Xena do? Was she good for you?”
“The best,” I say. “She actually slept at my place yesterday. In my bed.”
Beau’s brows go up, and I smile, clenching my teeth. “Hope that’s okay,” I say.
“Yeah, of course. Did she whine a lot?”
“No, I just…felt bad leaving her here since Tristan wasn’t home much.”
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I meant did she whine at your house? She’s pretty attached to her bed. She doesn’t like traveling, which is why I didn’t take her with me.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “No. No whining at all.”
Beau looks impressed. “She must like you a lot.”
Take that, Miss Miami.“Told you I’d win her over. How was Miami?” I play with Xena’s leash sitting on the counter.
