He chuckles and shakes his head. “Listen, Romy, my friendship with him comes first. He’s my best friend. My brother. I want him to be happy. I want him to have everything he wants. You make him happy, so that makes me happy. Will there be more bullshit to deal with as a result of this? You bet your ass. You and him and…” His gaze falls to my stomach. “Complicates a lot of shit. But I’ll do it with a smile because I love the guy.”
“Can I help with any of it?”
He smiles and shakes his head at me. “Yeah, I get why he fell for you. Just don’t argue about your security detail.”
“What? Oh my god, that’s not going to happen.”
He sobers and tilts his head. “Romy, you don’t know this world yet. You only saw a small percentage while you were on the bus. You’re important to him. Which means you’re important to me. So I need to make sure nothing happens to you.”
“But it’s just the ranch.”
With a sigh, he opens his arms. “Let’s take this slow, but don’t think for a second that I don’t welcome you into our pseudo family with open arms. That means as long as you’re with him, you’re stuck with me. I’m Uncle Beau. And good luck with him. He’s not the easiest guy to deal with, so if you ever need someone in your corner, call me.” He pulls me into a hug, and the warm feeling in my chest spreads further.
Zander leaves the dugout with the rest of my cousins and family.
Beau breaks away from me and slaps Zander on the back. “Way to go, buddy. Didn’t live up to your reputation today.”
I lean back, watching them laugh together, and I’m thankful that if Zander didn’t have an easy childhood, at least he had Beau.
Then Beau’s words echo in my head—security detail, a world I don’t fully understand. I think we’re in for a bumpy ride, but it’s all worth it to see that smile aimed at me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Zander
“We stick out like a sore thumb,” Beau mumbles in my ear.
I’ve never been to a farmers’ market in my life. I never thought I ever would. But I don’t hate it. Booths line the main street, and families are talking with other families. Kids run around.
“Did you pay them or something?” I mutter to Beau.
Not one person has approached us. I told Beau about wanting to go into town, so people know I’m with Romy, and here we are. It’s a coming out of sorts, but also because in order for me to feel secure leaving her when I go to edit the video, I want to experience the town a little more.
“No. You told me you wanted to come without any interference from me.” His voice still holds a small amount of agitation.
The paps hover at the edges, pretending to browse jam jars and homemade soaps while their shutters click slyly. Or so they think. My security detail fans out—four men in dark jackets who stick out more than blend in—but DeSoto’s the only one who stays glued to us, his gaze constantly roving.
And then there’s the entire reason I’m here.
Romy walks slightly ahead of me, hair loose, one hand brushing over a basket of apples, talking to the vendor as if she’s her best friend. Maybe she is her best friend. This is Romy’s element, where she lives and shops. I never want to take her out of this town. I want her to remain in her innocent Willowbrook bubble.
“Stop it,” Beau whispers, picking up a jar of carrots with a bemused expression.
“What?”
“She wants to be with you. And sure, she doesn’t know exactly what it all means, but she’s going to fight for you. So, wrestle those fucking demons and stop staring at her like she’s about to turn around and tell you she’s changed her mind.”
Romy waves, and someone crosses the path to flag her down. Beau and I stand to the side, taking in a scene neither of us ever thought we’d be part of.
“What am I supposed to expect? That she’ll be okay being chased down for a picture? That the shitty keyboard warriors?—”
“Yes. Because that’s part of being with you. It might take some time for you guys to figure it out, but you will. Stop feeling guilty about it.”
Romy glances over her shoulder and smiles mid-conversation, then eventually she hugs the person goodbye and nods for us to follow her.
“Go and keep your head out of dark places.” Beau slaps me on the back.
I head up to walk alongside Romy, and the crowd presses close near a stall selling candles. My hand skims over the small of her back, just a light brush, fingers spread wide enough that I feel the heat of her through her sweater. She relaxes into my touch, and her back rests against my chest as she picks up and smells a variety of candles.
