I heard Beau let out a long, slow breath beside me. The truck rumbled along the empty road, and I could feel his eyes on me for a moment before he turned his attention back to the asphalt.
“Marcus,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
My hands clenched into fists on my thighs. “I’m not lying.”
“Yes, you are.” His voice was still gentle, but there was a firmness to it now. “And you know how I know? Because I spent years lying to myself too. Telling myself I wasn’t interested in men. That what I felt was wrong or sinful or just... temporary.”
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. My throat felt tight, like someone had wrapped a fist around my windpipe and was slowly squeezing.
“I’m not judging you,” Beau continued. “I’m just saying... I recognize the signs. The trips to Austin. The way you tense up when Xavier’s around. The way you avoid looking at him directly, like you’re afraid of what you might see. Or what he might see in you.”
“Beau—”
“And the way you ran out of my house today? That wasn’t embarrassment over a natural bodily function. That was panic. Fear.” He paused. “Fear of being seen for who you really are.”
I stared out the window, watching the fence posts blur past. My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t get enough air despite the AC blasting in my face. He was right. God help me, he was right about all of it. But admitting it out loud, saying the words I’d been swallowing down for years... that was something else entirely.
“It doesn’t matter,” I finally said, my voice rough. “Even if I was... even if I felt that way, it doesn’t change anything. I’m the sheriff. I have responsibilities. A reputation to uphold.”
“Your father’s reputation, you mean.”
My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack. “He was a good man.”
“He was,” Beau agreed. “But he was also a product of his time. And his expectations for you... Marcus, they’re not yours. You don’t have to carry that weight forever.”
I wanted to argue with him. Wanted to defend my father’s legacy, explain that being sheriff meant something in this town, that generations of Webb men had held this position with honor and dignity. But the words stuck in my throat because deep down, I knew Beau was right. I’d been living my life according to someone else’s rules, someone else’s idea of who Marcus Webb should be.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, hating how defeated I sounded. “Just... come out? In Sagebrush? You know what that would mean? I’d lose my job.”
“It might mean some changes in your life,” Beau said carefully. “But it might also mean finding yourself. And finding people who accept you for who you actually are, not who you think you have to be.”
I turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw nothing but understanding in his expression. No judgment. No pity. Just... acceptance.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I admitted quietly.
“You don’t have to decide everything today,” Beau said. “But Marcus? That thing with Xavier back there? That’s not going away. And the more you try to run from it, the worse it’s gonna get.”
I let my head fall back against the seat, closing my eyes. He was right. Of course he was right. But knowing something and being ready to face it were two very different things.
We drove in silence for a while, the hum of the engine and the rush of the AC were the only sounds between us. My mind was racing, replaying the moment over and over. The way Xavier had looked up at me, the shock in his eyes, the flush spreading acrosshis cheeks. The way his lips had parted slightly, like he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words.
God, I wanted to kiss those lips. Had wanted to since the moment I’d first seen him in Dolly’s diner, all attitude and confidence and unapologetic sexuality. He was everything I’d trained myself not to want, not to need, not to even acknowledge. And yet here I was, half-hard just thinking about him despite my shame.
“I’ll officiate the wedding,” I said suddenly, opening my eyes.
Beau glanced over at me, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “You were right. I’m not gonna let you down. You’re my friend, and this is important to you. So, I’ll do it.”
A smile spread across Beau’s face, genuine and warm. “Thank you, Marcus. That means a lot.”
“But I need Xavier to finish the fitting,” I added, my stomach clenching at the thought. “And I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone what happened today.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Beau said. “All of them.”
I nodded, grateful for his discretion even as anxiety twisted in my gut. I was going to have to face Xavier again. Going to have to stand there while he touched me, measured me, probably made some smart-ass comment about what had happened. The thought made me want to jump out of the moving truck.
We pulled into town, and Beau drove straight to the sheriff’s office. Mrs. Baxter was standing outside, her arms crossed and a worried expression on her face that melted into relief when she saw me.
