Page 45 of Hopeless
At least the flowy skirt is useful for hiding my left hand, since concealing a diamond the size of the one Beau put on my finger is no easy feat.
“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling like I could collapse in on myself under the weight of their stares.
Everyoneis here. Rhett and Summer, Cade and Willa, Jasper and Sloane, Theo and Winter—even Sloane’s mom, whom I’ve heard some whispering about. There are babies in arms and a little boy kicking a soccer ball in the field out back.
I’m going to kill Beau for doing this to me later.
He leans in close to my ear, lips brushing against the shell, and whispers, “You look fucking beautiful.”
Then he straightens, all casual and carefree, like he didn’t incinerate me with one simple sentence. “Well, I’m glad you’re in the mood for surprises,” he announces. “Because I have another one for you.”
Beau glances around, gaze snagging on the single free seat they must have saved for him. In the blink of an eye, he’s folding his massive frame into the sturdy wooden chair … and taking me with him.
I am sitting on Beau Eaton’s lap at a family gathering, with everyone watching. I feel made of stone.
I’m supposed to be selling this, but I’m having a mental freak out. Sure, I spent the night curled up against him, but that didn’t feel like pretending.
This does.
My back stays ramrod straight, and fire licks up my chest as I make a show of arranging my skirt to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
Beau hasn’t let go of my hand, and then his left lands on my lower back. Right on the waistband of the boy shorts I’m wearing under this dress. His palm drags up my spine, the pressure just enough to distract me. Just enough to relax my posture.
His eyes fixate on me, the weight of his gaze like a heavy foot on my chest. He has no business giving me all this panty-melting focus with everyone watching.
His gaze is so heavy that I barely sense all the others.
When I squirm in his lap, his broad palm squeezes at my neck, more of a warning than a comfort. It forces me to stare at him. It forces my breathing to come out short and labored.
“Is the surprise that you two are going to eye fuck each other while we all watch?” Willa asks casually as her fiancé, Cade, scrubs a hand over his face and groans beside her.
A few other people chuckle, but it sounds to my ears more like nervous tittering.
And me? I officially want to die.
Beau chuckles, deep and raspy, but he doesn’t look away. “No. The surprise is that Bailey and I are getting married.”
You could hear a pin drop. I swear the birds stop chirping.
Beau’s magic fingers massage the back of my head as he releases my hand, wrapping his thick arm around my waist and tugging me tighter against his chest.
I feel like an awkward rag doll.
Being held by a Ken doll.
“Well, no one can say you don’t love to keep us on our toes,” Harvey ventures, sounding shocked, not angry, like I expected.
The only person I manage to peek up at is Summer. She’s married to Beau’s little brother, Rhett. She has always made an effort to be kind to me, even going as far as hiring me to bartend at her recent wedding.
“Well,” she slaps her thighs and pushes to stand, taking a few steps across the deck toward us. “Let me be the first to say congratulations to you both.” She holds her arms out for … a hug? “Welcome to the family, Bailey.” She shifts to peer around me at Beau. “Let her go. You’ve already peed on her. No one is gonna take her from you.”
Her brown eyes gleam, and her lips are upturned in a knowing smile. I can’t figure out why she’d be smiling like that at me.Can’t she tell this is fake?
12
Beau
Bailey goes rigid when Summer cracks her joke and stands for a hug.
