“I made you something to eat. You’ll feel better with something in your stomach.”

“Can’t move. Dying. Send for help.” I ignore his chuckle and force my eyes closed. Maybe if I sleep some more, I’ll wake up not feeling like death.

“I am the help.” The blanket is ripped off me and I’m thankful I’m still wearing the clothes I wore last night and not my scandalous nightgown.

“Beau,” I complain, but before I can say anymore, Beau has me up and out of bed in his arms.

At first I freeze, but then I realize nothing is going to change, so I push hope out of my head and relax.

We’re just friends.

“If I puke on you, it’s your own fault.” I bury my head into his chest, still not ready to face the day. His shirt smells like pine and a hint of lacquer.

“If you puke on me, darlin’, you’re getting in the shower to clean me up,” he replies and my stomach does that dip thingy that happens just as you free fall on a roller coaster. “Shit, sorry,” he quickly adds, realizing his slip.

Ugggh, this is why it’s hard to move on when he oversteps the friend line.

“Why do you smell like pine?” I change the subject, not because I don’t want to shower with Beau, because I do. But talking about it anymore than I have to will only make things worse.

“Why do you smell like vanilla one day and strawberry the next?” he counters my question with his own.

“’Cause I use two different body washes,” I answer as he places me on the kitchen counter.

“Why do you have two different body washes?” He hands me a mug of black coffee, just how I like it, and refills his own.

“I like to keep it fresh. Spice things up.” He lets out a low chuckle at my answer but doesn’t comment any further.

“So why do you smell like pine?” I ask again, wanting to know why he really smells like he took a bath in lacquer.

“I re-varnished the porch swing.” He steps up to the stove and begins to fill up a plate with eggs and bacon.

“You did?” I slide off the counter and walk out to the front porch. I throw open the door and walk out to the swing. The faded peeled wood has been sanded back and now shines with new varnish.

“Came out good.” I turn back to see Beau standing at the door watching me.

“Yeah, it looks great. When will it be ready?”

“Tomorrow it should be good to go. I know how much you like sitting out here and reading.”

“You did this for me?” I spin back, trying to gauge his reaction.

“No, been meaning to do it for a while. Had the time today.” He turns and walks back inside like it’s no big deal.

He so fixed it up for me.

I follow him inside and take my seat back on the counter. I don’t push the swing, not wanting to make a big deal, but I can’t help smile about it. It’s a small gesture, but to me, it’s huge.

“What time did you come in?” I watch him carefully as he hands me my plate. I don’t bother moving to the table. My appetite’s coming back, so I dig in right away.

“You don’t remember?” He takes my plate out of my hands and brings it to the table. I only pout for a second before following the food.

He’s bossy even without words.

“No. I remember the girls leaving, Holly was last to go then I started to clean up. The rest is blank.”

“I got in around midnight. You were passed out on the sofa.”

“I was?” I look up, trying to remember. Shit, yes. I sat down when the room started to spin. I must have fallen asleep.

“You snore when you’re drunk,” he teases between mouthfuls of food.

“I do not.” I hide my face behind my coffee cup.

“You do. You even drooled a little.” He wipes his mouth, showing me how much I dribbled. My eyes must convey my horror because he starts laughing.

“You’re lying.” I don’t believe him. No way.

“I’m not lying, darlin’. You were snoring, drooling, and even mumbling in your sleep.” My head hits the table, as his laughter grows louder.

“Stop, just stop.” I look up and watch him enjoying himself way too much.

“Okay, so you don’t want to know what you proposed when I managed to put you to bed?”

I don’t answer, his laughter telling me it’s just as bad, if not worse. Instead of stressing about what I might and might not have said, I finish my breakfast, top up my coffee then take my ass to my favorite chair and decide to wallow for the rest of the day.

I’m never drinking again.

Sixteen

Beau

“So, how’s Mackenzie settling in?” Holly asks a couple of weeks later at a Friday night club BBQ. Nix had called a club meet earlier to discuss some shit with the Warriors and follow up on how Chad is still completely off the grid. Not one sighting. How the fuck it’s even possible I have no idea and I don’t want to get my hopes up, but it’s starting to look like he’s not going to make a move.

“She’s okay,” I answer and take another sip of my beer. I should probably be heading out, but tonight I’m finding it hard to go home. The last few weeks of having Kenzie in my home haven’t been easy. Especially after the night I told her just what I wanted to do with her.

The first few days after that evening were quiet, both of us treading carefully, but just like everything else, time has healed things and now it’s like we’re back to normal.