Page 59 of Hopeless
I laugh against his palm and nod my head.
When he removes his hand, I hold his gaze and shrug. “I think it’s nice he has someone.”
Beau scrubs at the back of his neck, clearly trying to work his brain around the familiar way Cordelia and Harvey had held hands at dinner.
“I guess. Kinda weird that it’s my mom’s sister.”
“Is it? Maybe it makes perfect sense it wouldn’t threaten her. Maybe it’s okay for your dad to still love her because they both love her? Or like,” I shrug. “Maybe it’s nice for them to have her in common?”
Beau winces. “She died a long time ago. It’s just weird. He’s never brought someone around. And he hasn’t told us anything.”
“It’s almost like you don’t need to tell your family every single thing that happens in your personal life, huh?”
He points at me and says, “Fair,” while walking closer.
I thought the heat coming from the front of my truck was uncomfortable to lean against, but the way Beau is stalking toward me has me pressing back against it like it’s the more comfortable option.
His black sneakers come almost close enough to stub my toes through the tips of my sandals.
“Nice shoes, soldier. They look fast.” I toss him a wink and cross my arms, trying to be casual.
Probably failing.
“They are.” His eyes assess me. “How’s the trailer treating ya?”
I swallow. “Great. Wonderful. I love my trailer.”
“Pretty hot these days.”
Again, his breath is a cool breeze.
“Sure is.”
“Still holding out on my AC offer?” He quirks a brow and mirrors my crossed arm position. And he oozes … promise.
I don’t know how else to put it. He’s not even touching me, and in this moment, I know exactly what he’s promising.
Touch. Pleasure. Experience.
He said he wouldn’t have sex with me, but what about everything else? It seems improbable. Looking at him, he’s like a big, cocky Adonis.
It seems like a bad idea.
But he’s also your fiancé. You trust him. He’s so damn good to you.
I’m ovulating. That’s the only reason my brain is rationalizing this to me.
I let my gaze slide down his thick body and land on the crotch of his shorts. They’re fitted … ish.
Maybe that’s why I can see a bulge so clearly. The really big bulge.
It’s just the clothes. Not a real boner.
That would be absurd.
“Please let me know what I owe you for the set of tires.”
He ignores me. “Just you alone, up sweating all night. I can imagine it.”
