The connecting door cracked open. Beau peeked out, hair wild, shirt inside out. "Did he say the walls are thin?"
"Yes." I groaned.
"So he heard..."
"Everything."
Beau paused, considering. Then he grinned—a shark-like, satisfied thing. "Good. Let him know I’m taking care of you."
"Get out!" I threw the other pillow at him.
Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. My hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, but there was no hiding the glow on my skin. Or the mark on my neck.
I leaned in closer. A bruise. A dark, violet, undeniable love bite right on the sensitive cord of my neck.
"That possessive asshole," I whispered, touching it gingerly. A thrill shivered down my spine. I should cover it with makeup. I should wear a scarf.
I didn't. I left it right there.
I walked into the kitchen to the smell of frying bacon and strong coffee. The morning sun was streaming in, making dust motes dance in the air. Elise was already at the table, scrolling on her phone, looking chic and city-ready in her blazer. Pops was at the stove, flipping pancakes.
Beau was sitting at the table, looking entirely too innocent. He caught my eye as I walked in, his gaze dropping instantly to my neck. His eyes darkened, a flash of pure heat, before he winked.
"Morning," I mumbled, sliding into the chair next to him.
"Morning," Elise said, not looking up. Then she paused. She looked up. She looked at me, then at Beau, then at the mark on my neck. Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. "Well. Someone slept well."
"Like a baby," Beau said cheerfully, stealing a piece of bacon off my plate before I could even sit fully.
I kicked him under the table. Hard. He didn't even flinch.
"So," Pops said, bringing a platter of pancakes to the table. He sat down, eyeing us both. "Elise is off to Denver. Some merger thing."
"Client emergency," Elise sighed, putting her phone down. She looked at me, her expression softening. "I hate to leave early, Win. But duty calls. I wanted to see you ride today."
"It's okay," I said, reaching for the syrup. "Bandit and I are just doing drill work. Boring stuff."
"I'm helping," Beau announced.
Pops snorted into his coffee. "Helping? Or staring?"
"Both," Beau said shamelessly. His hand found my knee under the table, his thumb rubbing firm circles into my jeans. "I'm multi-talented."
"Yeah, I heard," Pops muttered.
I choked on my orange juice. Beau patted my back, his grin wide and wicked.
I looked around the table—at Pops teasing us, Elise smiling with that knowing glint in her eye, and Beau, whose hand was anchoring me to the earth. A few weeks ago, I was stubborn as hell, convinced I could keep this strictly professional. 'He's a client,' I’d told myself. 'He's temporary.'
God, I was an idiot.
"You good, Win?" Elise asked, watching me.
"Yeah," I breathed, feeling the warmth of Beau’s body next to mine. "I'm really good."
We walked Elise to her rental car an hour later. The sun was fully up now, baking the dew off the grass. It was going to be a scorcher.
"Take care of the place," Elise told Pops, hugging him tight. Then she turned to me. "And you." She pulled me into a hug, whispering in my ear. "He looks at you like you hung the moon, Winnie. Don't overthink it. Just ride the wave."
