My hands work his belt, breaking it free before flipping the button of his jeans and moving my hand down his front. My fingers find the base of his thickness instantly.

Jesus, he’s so fucking hard for me.

Hard and thick.

Before I manage a full grip around him, he freezes.

“Wait.” He steps back, breaking our connection. “Darlin’, we need to cool it down.” A pained look falls over his face and it’s like having a bucket of ice water thrown over me, dousing all need and want. I push my arms back through my straps to cover myself up.

“Are you kidding me?” I slide off the counter and rush past him. Rejection flows through me, the burning flame of need he just lit now doused by my insecurities.

Am I not enough?

I need the earth to open up and swallow me whole. How could I be so stupid? A seed of embarrassment starts to grow inside of me, and I know if I don’t get away from him, I will be flowering a new shade of red on my face.

“Kenz, wait!” he calls out, but I can’t bear for him to see me like this.

“No don’t, Beau. Just leave it,” I manage to say before escaping the kitchen.

“I’m no good for you, Mackenzie. This—”

“Is a mistake. I got it.” I stop, turning back to finish his sentence and holding the disappointment from my voice. The last thing I need to become is some desperate woman in an off and on sort of relationship.

“No, darlin’, I’m just looking out for you. You don’t need this kind of fucked up.”

I shake my head, done with his excuses. I’ve lived fucked up. I was married to it. Beau is not fucked up. I know it with everything in me. The totality of his commitment to me proves he is nothing like Chad.

He’s the one who gave me hope when Chad took it away. He’s the one responsible for giving me a life I never thought I could be worthy of. Because of him, it's as if everything has been wiped clean.

“Do you want to be with me, Beau?” His eyes close at my question as if it pains him to answer.

“So much it hurts, darlin’.”

“Then be with me, Beau. Be with me how you want to be with me.” I offer what I think he needs from me. Not because I want it, because the truth is I don’t know if I will, but because he does and I want him any way I can have him.

“Kenz, it doesn't work like that.”

“Why not, Beau? I need this as much as you do.”

“Because I don’t want you to give it to me, darlin'. I want to take it. And as much as you think you’re ready, you’re not.”

“How do you know I’m not ready? I’m willing to try.” I am. I’m willing to do anything for him. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s dangerous, but I trust him. Trust him more than I trust anyone in my life.

Beau would never hurt me.

“I know, darlin’, believe me I know, but I’m not prepared to push it.” The room falls quiet as we both process what is happening here. We both want the same thing, but in different ways.

“Then I can’t live here with you like this. I thought I could move past this, but I can’t. It’s too much. It hurts too much.” He looks up at my confession.

“You’re right. It’s not fair. I’ll stay at the clubhouse,” he offers, and it almost pains me as much as his rejection.

“No. I don’t want to be here. I’ll move out, find my own place. You’ve done enough for me since I came to you.”

“Don’t make any decisions tonight. We’ll talk in the morning.” He shakes his head, not setting anything in stone.

“Yep.” I sigh, turning to continue walking to my room.

Tomorrow we will talk. I will make it clear I’m not staying here. I need to be away from Beau. Away from everything that reminds me of him.

If it means leaving Rushford, then so be it.

Eighteen

Beau

“We’ll talk in the morning,” I tell her, knowing she won’t see any reason tonight. How can she after what I just did.

“Yep.” She turns and walks out. I want to call out to her, tell her to come back, but I don’t. I let her go.

Like you should have before you fucking touched her, asshole.

Grabbing another beer from the fridge and my cut off the floor, I decide to skip the rest of my dinner and call it a night. I know I just fucked up everything we’ve been trying to hold together, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure how we were going to come back from it. I had her, willing and ready, yet I froze.

Switching off the kitchen light, I make my way down to my room. Mackenzie’s door is to the left of mine and I force myself to pass it without a glance.

I open my bedroom door, walk inside and throw my cut across my bed.

Why did I pull away?

It’s not like I don’t want her. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone so much. It’s more about what I want to do to her. What I want to make her do to me.

I’ve tried to push her out of my head, tried to keep my mind off the small detail of wanting to bury myself balls deep inside of her, but everywhere I turn in this house, she’s there.

Her smile. Her laugh. Even the way she fucking smells.

“Fuck me dead.” I let out a puff of air and fall to the bed.

I know thinking of her this way is only going to make it harder for me. She’s everything I don’t need. I need control, something we both know she struggles with. Maybe with time she might be able to, but what if she never gets there. Would it be enough for me? Would my natural desire to control just fade away?