Chapter 12

12

Autumn

I stare at Beau. Okay, I get I had a few wines, but did he have his drink spiked?

Marriage?

For real?

He's lost his damn mind.

My mouth parts but no words come out. "I… I…"

"You… you?" He smirks.

Geez, since when did he have such pretty eyes? How have I never noticed them before? And his lips… so full for a man and so damned kissable. I like that scruff he's sporting, it's sexy… No! He's my friend. My best friend. Boundaries! I turn away. "You're not funny."

I hear the edge to his voice. "What do you mean?"

"You're trying to get me to admit something and then you're going to say, ‘Aha! Loser! Gotcha!' And then Peter Funt's going to jump out of nowhere and say, ‘Candid Camera!' And I'll look like an idiot."

"I'd never call you a loser, and no, I don't have Peter Funt hiding in Georgia's apartment." I peek around as he continues. "I don't think so anyway. So come on, give me one good reason."

I blink. "Uh, well, for one we're friends."

He makes a loud noise which resembles a buzzer. "Nope. Try again!"

"Okay. Well, it's a lie."

"Minor details. If it got you all the things you wanted and your family off your back, I will marry you, Autumn Leaf. You don't even have to sleep with me."

I don't know how long passes before I really digest that last comment. He says it like sleeping with him would be a chore. As if! He's a bonafide hottie hiding behind his geeky glasses, hoodies and fail-proof manners. I silently give his parents a round of applause because they really did raise a fine human being.

"Like, we'd live together, obviously, but we could have separate rooms," he goes on.

"So you'd have your own space still, we'd just have to act married to everyone else when we go out, like for show."

For show?

My heart drums so loudly I'm sure they can hear it in Alabama. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, maybe think about it when you're less… Uh… In the morning, I mean, when it's light… And you're feeling more like yourself."

I narrow my eyes. "I'm not drunk, Beau!"

"Okay, I didn't mean you were drunk."

"You're not abhorrent," I whisper. "You're amazing, Beau. But this is crazy, plus imagine how mad our parents would be when they find out what we did."

He shrugs. "They wouldn't find out we're pretending. We'd just make up a story and say we rushed into it, and for the sake of our friendship we're going to get an annulment and remain amicable."

Why does it sound like he's thought this through. "So you'd do all of that just to help me out?"

"Sure. We're friends, right?"

Just friends?

Clearly I was wrong. The flirting and the easy banter was just Beau being Beau. Not because he likes me. He's doing this to help me, probably because he feels sorry for me. Wait… Does he feel sorry for me?

"I'm not a charity case," I blurt out. Straight away, I regret it.

Beau wipes a hand down his face. "I know that. I didn't mean that you were. I just saw how distressed you were at the creek the other day, and I want to help. This is one way that I could do that; like I said, we both win. My parents get off my back, you get what you want and you can purchase all the equipment you need for the business, plus fix your house as well as securing your financial freedom…"

"But wouldn't it be a lie?"

"You're overthinking it. Your family are the ones with these stupid rules, you're just working your way around them. No harm, no foul. Don't worry about my parents, I'll deal with them."

"If it ever got out…"

"It wouldn't. It would be between us. Nobody would know, then our secret would be safe."

I take a breath. "I don't know. I need to think about this."

He nods. "I'm just sayin'. If you want a way out, I'm in."

My lips part. "Are you sure you want to be my husband, Beau?"

His eyes bore into mine and I feel weak in the knees. I blame Pinot Grigio for all of this. "I wouldn't be mind be married to you."

I think back to his earlier words. And you'd be my wife…

His voice sounds so gruff, so possessive, so freaking hot that my mouth feels like the Sahara desert and I can't form words.

The machine makes a sputtering sound, making me jump as I turn to see the mug full and the spray nozzle hissing. I clear my throat. "Wife." I thought I whispered it, but when I glance back at Beau, I can see that I didn't.

"It has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

I shake my head. "Beau, you're really serious, aren't you?"

He grips my chin and tilts it so I'm looking at him. "Like I said, we're friends, and friends help each other out."

"Yes, they pick up groceries for you or bring chicken soup when you're sick. They don't marry you and lie to everyone you've ever known!"

"Again. Details."

I warm my hands on the mug and try to think.

He leans toward the machine, setting his mug under the spout.

"What are you doing?"

"Since you're not making my milk or putting me to bed, I guess I'll do it myself." He gives me a wink. "I'm sure I've given you enough to think about."

That's putting it mildly.

I nod like a zombie, unable to form any more words.

He pours milk into the top of the machine and presses the button. "I think you should stay here tonight," he says. "In Georgia's spare room."

I quirk an eyebrow. "Getting all husbandly on me already?"

He snorts. "Is that a word?"

"I think it is in Europe."

"You're not driving home when you've been drinking, unless you'd like me to drive you?"

I shake my head. "It's late. I'll stay here."

He seems satisfied with that because he nods his head and I notably see his shoulders relax a little. "Well, you know where to find me when you've made your decision."

"Beau… I would never do anything to ruin our friendship."

"Neither would I." He takes his mug and gives me a small smile. "I just want to help. So think about it."

I nod, my mouth slightly open like a goldfish. I seriously need to go and sleep this off.

He thumbs behind him. "I better get to bed."

"Okay. Thanks, Beau…" I want to slap myself. "For everything."

His lips twitch. "Anytime, Autumn Leaf. Sweet dreams."

I watch as he turns and leaves the same way he came in, the door gently clicking behind him.

Marry Beau Bassett? Has he lost his mind? Have I? Or is this really the solution to all our problems? I can't work it out. I need to sleep then everything will feel better in the morning.

I pass by Georgia, still fast asleep as I pull out the soft blanket from the armchair and drape it over her.

I go to bed, my head swirling and my heart galloping at the very notion that I could be Beau Bassett's wife.

??

I wake with a pain between my eyes. I'm never drinking wine again. For one it makes you dehydrated, and secondly it makes you lose your mind. One minute I'm having dinner, enjoying the company of the Bassett family and friends, the next I'm making hot chocolate in Georgia's casita while I… Oh. My. God. Beau offered to marry me.

I squint, trying to remember if that part was just a dream. Was it? Did I just imagine this whole fantasy to make myself feel better about being thirty-three, broke and on the cusp of either making a real go of my own business, or seeing it tank before my very eyes. I rub my eyes and think back. Nope. He definitely did offer to be my husband, more than once.

He must have rocks in his head. I mean, I'm no diva or anything, but has he really thought all of this through? What does he get out of it? Just the pleasure of seeing me get what I want and keeping my family happy? Then there's the issue that they may not approve of Beau. I mean, everyone loves Beau, but are they going to feel the same? And there's a plus where Mom's concerned; he's one of the heirs to the Bassett Brothers fortune. That would go over well with my mother dearest, surely. No matter how I think about the dynamics of it all, I come up blank. We can't do this.

I lean over, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. I do not expect to see a text from Beau first thing, but that's exactly what's waiting for me. Scrambling to open it, I fumble, my cell clattering to the floor. It's almost out of battery and I have no charger. Damn it!

He's probably texting me to tell me that he's thought about it overnight and he's clinically insane. Retracting the offer would be the sane thing to do.

Beauster

Morning, Autumn Leaf. I trust you slept okay. I didn't want you to wake up and think I was trying to convince you of anything last night. That wasn't my intention, but it probably came off a little crazy.

I blink a couple of times, disappointment flooding through me before I read the next text.

Beauster

I've been thinking about it a lot overnight and I think you need to know that I meant what I said. We could do this. It solves a problem for both of us. But if you don't, I won't hold it against you ??

He gave me a winky face?

He sent me a text saying he still wants to go ahead with this hair-brained scheme and then inserts a winky face?

Just as I'm about to form my reply, my phone dies and switches itself off. Damn it! Now he's going to know I read the messages and didn't reply.

I groan.

Then I think about how freaking hot Beau looked last night and his ass in those jeans. The way his hair was slightly gelled back but the front kept dipping in his eyes. I close my eyes, imagining the hard wall of muscle of his chest when I leaned back against him and yes, I'm a hundred percent sure that I brushed up against his package.

You wouldn't even have to sleep with me.

Like that option is even on the cards. Disappointment makes my stomach churn. Oh, I've thought about rolling around with Beau in bed ever since that day he ripped his shirt off. He should not have this effect on me, yet I can't help it. The more I try to fight it, the stronger the feelings seem to get. I get flustered whenever he's around now; my cheeks heating like a teenager and my body throbbing under his glare.

The way his voice dropped. The way his eyes heated. Was I imagining that, too?

Who knows, I was a little drunk, but this is just like Beau; jumping to the rescue.

No matter what he says, I can't let him do that. Marriage is supposed to be a sacred union, not one built on a lie. And it would be a lie because I'm having feelings for him and that's just the tip of the iceberg. I can't marry him knowing that I have real feelings toward him without us exploring them first, but then I'll only scare him off and he might take my rejection to heart. I don't want to hurt him, but I also don't want my heart broken either. How did we get here?

This is what happens when you fall for your best friend. This is why men and women can rarely be friends, right? Because feelings get in the way. And then if Beau doesn't feel the same way, it would look pathetic, desperate even.

I still have my pride.

I need to roll out of bed and find a charger around Georgia's place so I can reply back to Beau saying he's off the hook.

Even if I don't mean it; he needs to know that this is no small thing. In his eyes, we'll just get an annulment and that will be that. But what about my smashed heart when that event occurs? How long would we live through this charade? Three months? Six months? A year? And where would we live? My place, or his?

I shake my head.

I don't know what's worse; Beau's offer, or me considering it.

I don't want to do this just for the money. It stopped being about that the minute I thought Beau may have true feelings for me.

Jesus, I need coffee, and I need it fast.

No matter what happens, I won't let Beau be hurt. He's a good man and an amazing friend, and I want to keep it that way. I never want to be the reason that he regrets anything.

So that's why I'll tell him thank you, but we can't. It's too much.

When all's said and done, he has his life to live, and I have mine.

Meeting in the middle was never planned. For both our sakes this is a very bad idea.

Wife. You'd be my wife.

I roll over and put my head under the pillow.

I have to try and erase that memory of him saying those words. Even if they'll stay in my memory bank forever, I have to find a way to forget.

It's better that way.