I can’t say how long we lie there as Beau cries, tears thick, chest heaving with barely restrained sobs.
“Can I take care ofyou, Beau? Tell me how I can do that.”
Beau presses his fingers into the small of my back, tugging me somehow even closer. “Just be here with me until it’s over.”
Brushing my lips across his forehead, I bite my cheek to keep myself from crying. Only the orange hue of light shining through the windows tells me the time. I leave Beau asleep on the sofa, and rummage through his fridge for food. The shelves are almost empty. What’s he been eating? From the state of things, it looks like he's probably not been eating well for the past few weeks.
A flier on the fridge door for a local pizza place catches my eye. That’ll be it. I place an order for delivery and give them thegate code I watched Colby enter earlier. Hopefully, Beau won’t mind. And then I get to work cleaning the kitchen. The place isn’t messy, but I don’t think it’s up to Beau’s usual standards. At least not from what I recall from my last visit.
The pizza arrives just after I finish cleaning. I give the delivery kid two twenty-dollar bills and close the door quietly behind me. Maybe it’s the sound, or maybe it’s the sweet smell of the pizza, but Beau rouses from his short nap with the heel of his hand pressed hard against his forehead.
He blinks at me a few times, then his tired gaze flicks between me and the pizza.
“I thought I dreamt you,” he says, voice dripping with exhaustion.
And that breaks my heart too. “Nope. I’m here. At least until after the funeral.”
Relief washes over him and the tension bleeds from his shoulders.
“Come eat?” I ask gently.
Beau quietly follows me into the kitchen. We don’t even sit down. We just stand around eating pizza slices out of the box. Tiredness radiates off Beau in a way I’ve never felt it radiate off of someone before. All my protector urges rise to the surface seeing Beau half-broken the way he is now.
After he’s eaten a few pieces of pizza, I manhandle him into the bathroom.
“Take a nice hot shower, then we’ll get you into bed to sleep.”
Beau doesn’t even try to argue. I shut the door firmly behind him so that he has privacy. The sheets have seen better days, so I change them after spending an odd amount of time trying to find new ones without violating his privacy. Clean sheets always make me fall asleep just a little bit faster and easier.
Steam floats through the door when Beau pushes it open. He’s in just boxer briefs, gracing me with the sight of his big barrel chest. Still just as beautiful as this past summer.
Gingerly tucking him into the bed, I rush through a shower for myself. The steamy air still smells like him, like blue skies, the outdoors, and everything beside the word strong in the dictionary. Digging around under his sink, I don’t know why I’m surprised to not find a blow-dryer. This is Beau Callahan. So, I forgo the blow-dry and instead haphazardly run Beau’s comb through my hair.
Beau is halfway asleep when I crawl into the bed beside him. He blinks those sleepy dark blue eyes at me and smiles just enough to make my world rotate on its entire axis. I’d do anything to keep him smiling like that. As if just my presence beside him soothes him, he promptly falls asleep.
Sleep eludes me as I watch him. Too wired from the absolutely wild day I’ve had, plus the long drive from Atlanta. My fingers have a mind of their own and trace his broad, expressive eyebrows. Then I scratch at his beard a little, just soft enough to leave him sleeping.
My eyes drift closed as I tenderly run my fingers through his still slightly damp hair. I snuggle up against him, smiling like a loon when he wraps an arm around my waist to tug me closer. With the weight of Beau’s arm around me, I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve had in years.
Gentle fingers combing through my hair wake me. When I blink my eyes open, I find Beau leaning over me, a soft, pleased smile tilting up his plush lips. Without thinking, I lean up toslide my lips against his in a tender kiss. Morning breath be damned.
“Morning,” I say, my voice still sleep husky.
“Morning,” Beau echoes.
“How are you doing?”
A sweet, shy smile tilts his lips up at the corners. His eyes are just shiny enough to worry me. “Better now.”
I can’t let this be about me. Everything needs to be about him. So, I build my walls up higher, so high that I know not even I can climb over them. I wrestle Beau out of bed. Breakfast will be the pizza and eggs that I scrounge out of the fridge. Tried-and-true breakfast of warriors.
We eat in silence on the back porch. Instead of the sweltering high heat and humidity of summer, the air is warm, less sticky. A light breeze washes over us, gentling the warmth of the day. Once Beau finishes his food, I carry it back inside to start on the dishes. Beau stares out into the forest with a contemplative look as I work.
Returning outside, his heavy gaze swings to me. Emotion visibly overwhelms him as he swallows thickly, throat working to hold back his tears. His fingers grip the chair tightly, knuckles white from his strength.
“It’s gonna be alright,” I tell him.
He nods tightly once, then slowly unfurls from the deck chair. My heart does a little skip in my chest as he makes his way over to me. Looping my arms around his strong shoulders, I let my hands hang loose at the nape of his neck. His eyes close in what I like to imagine is relief.
