I couldn’t relax. Not yet. But it felt good, knowing Waylon would find his ruin.
It didn’t damage my masculinity that I wasn’t going to be the one to do it, not even a little.
I knew it was a woman’s job to ruin a man. And a woman would do it better than I ever could.
seventeen
HANNAH
“Let’s go.”
I looked up from my laundry, finding Beau leaning against the doorframe.
My complicated feelings for the man had been twisted further by the tender way in which he had listened to me the previous night. By the lack of judgment I’d been bracing for. And the fury that shook his entire body as he’d looked at the red mark on my arm. Rage. For me. Notatme.
He’d protected me from Waylon. Banished him from the doorstep while keeping me behind him. He’d kept me safe.
I’d tossed and turned all night, trying to decipher what exactly it had all meant. I’d cried a bunch too.
Maybe it meant nothing more than Beau Shaw was a halfway decent man who was also an extremely good listener, when he wanted to be.
As complicated as it made things between us, it made me feel lighter. The secret of Waylon had been coiled in my insides, eating away at me like a predator waiting to strike.
It felt nice that someone else knew that part of my life and hadn’t looked at me any differently. It helped that the person was Beau, who had rarely looked at me fondly anyway.
His words weren’t harsh or cold this morning either. Nor was his expression. Though it was currently pointed at my hands.
Which were holding a lacy, hot-pink thong.
I nearly drowned in shame as I quickly shoved it under the pile of laundry I’d been folding.
It was just underwear. Everyone wore them. So why did it feel like the room was a hundred degrees, and I was suddenly aware of my nipples?
Beau exhaled loudly before his eyes met mine. He looked composed. Calm. He was a grown man, not unnerved by panties.
And I was a grown woman, not unnerved by her hot employer looking at her panties.
I forced myself to hold his gaze.
“We’re going to the police station.” I didn’t miss how his voice sounded thicker then.
“We are?” I asked. “For what?” Worry crawled up my spine. Clara was out with her grandfather, and I knew Beau wouldn’t be this calm, leaning by my door if there was anything going on with her.
His jaw was iron. “For you to put a restraining order out on your husband.”
I flinched. Of all the things I expected, that was nowhere near close. I suddenly wanted the earth to crack open for a different reason. Because of Beau taking on my problems. Because he felt duty-bound to do that. And in a small town, no less. I didn’t doubt that the police here were honorable, but it didn’t mean word wouldn’t get out.
Hot shame crawled up my throat. “That’s not necessary.”
He folded his arms. “I disagree. We’re going.”
My back straightened at his command. His tone. Authoritative. Telling me what to do. It was annoying.
And … hot?
Oh, how I craved someone to take over. To make decisions for me, take all the pressure off my shoulders. I’d been taking care of myself since middle school, worrying about household bills, food, where I’d get money for clothes that fit, if my mom’s new boyfriend would try to sneak into my room at night. I wanted to feel safe. To be taken care of.
Beau was not going to be the man to do that, I reminded myself. His reason for taking me to the police station pertained to his daughter.
