Chapter 16

16

Autumn

The minute my hand touches his I know there's no turning back, and I can't let my fears take over what could go wrong in this scenario. Especially when Beau is telling me all the reasons why this is so right.

The man has gone insane… And now I'm right along there with him for the ride.

Facepalm of the century.

But even I have to admit the reasons are pretty compelling, and I definitely don't hate the thought of being married to Beau at all. It's just… different .

My new found feelings for him are new and exciting, and being in close proximity to one another if we get hitched, could pose a whole array of different problems. Because the truth is, I like Beau. I really like Beau. And I've just agreed to marry him!

"So we're doing this?" I can't believe the words leave my mouth.

"Yep. We're doing this." His knuckles brush across my hand and I try not to let the feeling skitter across my skin, as well as every cell in my body, which reacts to him in a nuclear way.

Beau is going to be my husband.

"And when our families find out we lied to them?"

He gives me a reassuring smile. "They won't. Whatever happens, we're gonna be friends no matter what. Even when this ends."

I hate those words, they sound so final. But I still find myself nodding. "Okay. So when and where do we do this?"

"I haven't exactly looked into it, but I think we should go to a registry office out of town."

I swallow hard, hanging on his every word. "Okay."

His lips twitch. "Are you gonna say anything else other than okay?"

I lower my voice once more. "Sorry, husband, but excuse me if I'm just taking all of this in. Marriage vows mean something, it's like we're lying to God or something."

"Say that again."

"Marriage vows mean someth?—"

"Not that. The husband part."

I feel an instant heat spread over my cheeks as I flush. "Beau."

"What? I'm acting the part of a doting soon-to-be-husband in the making, right? Our homework can start right now; project acting flirty. In front of Dolly Simpson?" He flicks his eyes over toward the counter where Dolly is still loitering around talking to JJ. "It'll be across town in no time."

Our hands are still touching.

"I just wish I didn't feel so guilty."

"Hey, the only thing you need to worry about is how to keep your husband happy."

I narrow my eyes and he laughs. "I'm just kidding."

"I really hope you're not a slob to live with," I sigh.

He balks. "A slob? You've been in my house, and bonus points; I know how to use the washing machine and I can cook a couple of dishes really well as long as I can disguise it with cheese. Impressed yet?"

"I'm falling over from anticipation." I want to laugh, but I'm also freaking the hell out. "Maybe we need to discuss boundaries and what's expected."

"Maybe we need to do that in a more secure location?" he suggests. He has a point. Discussing our upcoming nuptials at the busiest diner in town can only spell trouble.

"You're probably right. We should both get our bearings and maybe write down any questions we have, then we can meet up later at your place or mine and go through it all."

"Sounds perfect. I've gotta help Brook with the horses in half an hour, so I can come by your place after that?"

I look down at my hands as Beau removes his. Goddamn, should it feel so cold without his touch? We're in the freaking diner and I'm already pining for him.

This is bad.

This is very bad.

I nod. "Sounds good."

He reaches over and I feel him brush my chin with his gentle fingers, forcing me to look up to meet his eyes. "If you change your mind, Autumn Leaf, you don't have to go through with this. I never want you to think you don't have options."

My heart warms in my chest. "I know, Beauster." But is he still Beauster anymore? "I'm just up to my eyeballs at the moment, and I hate asking Anton for any more money. Not that this is all about money," I quickly amend. "I mean, I wouldn't just marry anyone."

He chuckles. "Glad to hear it."

I reach down to the seat to grab my purse and pick up my coffee cup, taking a last swig as we go to stand. Beau's hand is warm at the small of my back as we walk and then I hear his low voice. "Permission to touch you?"

I smile. "Permission granted. But you don't have to keep asking. To make this thing work, we do have to pretend we're dating, so touch away." I turn my head to look up at him and he grins down at me, clearly pleased. "I mean… not touch at your leisure or anything… Just like, in public… to make people think we're into each other… You can uh, put your hands on me… God!"

He rumbles with laughter and I slap his arm. "Stop laughing at me!"

"You're funny when you're nervous."

I straighten my shoulders. "Who says I'm nervous? Are you forgetting that I'm older than you, Beau Clarence Bassett?"

He glances around, his hand on my back steering me to the counter so we can pay. "Don't remind me." The tone in his voice, deep and rumbly. The stir of it has my heart beating ten times faster than it was before. Did it sound like he liked that idea? God. Not only am I marrying this man as a complete lie to get my inheritance, he's also eight years younger than me. I'm a cougar… Wait… No. Cougars are only really hot women who have younger guys, right? I don't consider myself that. And Beau being my boy-toy just sounds cringey. What's the new freaking word for a man who's younger than you that's not either of those things? Do I make up a new word? These are all things to take note of before we say ‘I do'. "You keep sayin' my name like that, Wifey, and I'll have to show how seriously I'm taking these wedding vows."

There goes the thud of my heart again. Heat is creeping up my neck. "You hate being called Clarence," I try to deflect.

Is there heat in his eyes? I can't tell. I'm in some kind of caffeine induced Beau-husband coma and I can't think straight. I haven't even thought one iota about my poor car that's probably still stranded on the side of the road.

"Not when you say it." Good lord. The hand on my back feels so possessive, and I never knew until now how much I liked it. I've never had a guy do that. Michael would always want to be front and center, entering a room before me so people could greet him first. He was a big hot-shot after all. We couldn't have anyone thinking that his girlfriend was above herself. Asshole .

"Are you dialing up the flirt right now?" My voice is breathy, I'm practically panting. "Like, have we started the plan?"

"We've started, Wifey. We've definitely started."

Oh.

We reach the counter and Beau smiles at JJ. Dolly is still at the register chatting away to him.

"That'll be fifteen twenty-seven."

Beau passes him a twenty. "Thanks, JJ." He casually slings an arm around my shoulders. Of course, Dolly's eyes follow his movements.

"Uh, you're welcome. Have a great day y'all!"

He turns to smile at me. "Ready, pumpkin?"

Oh, lord. Kill me now.

I smile back up at him. I hope I don't look like a cardboard cutout of the good housewife, because I feel like I'm failing already. "I'm ready. Thank you for the coffee." Before I can stop myself, I lean up and kiss him on the cheek. "That was so sweet of you, can't wait to do it again."

Beau goes rigid, his face falters for a split second before he recovers. "You're welcome. How about Friday?"

I bat my eyelashes. "What did you have in mind?"

He turns to look at a gaping Dolly. "Keep the change, thanks, JJ." We leave the counter as I babble about Moose's and happy hour.

When we get outside I immediately facepalm myself with a groan. "I suck at this."

"Nope, you're doin' great. Just keep up the pretense, she's still watching."

I dare not glance back in case I get caught. "Okay, so tonight. I can order some pizzas and we can raise any concerns we have… Why are you smirking?"

He rubs his chin. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"I'm not flustered!"

He gives me a wink. "Not affected by me even a little bit? Wait till I really turn on the charms."

My heart feels like a runaway freight train. Holy crap.

Play it cool, for heaven's sake. "Maybe you're not as charming as you think you are?" I challenge.

He slides his eyes back to the window, then to me. "We're off the hook."

"I'll bet Dolly's spreading the word as we speak."

He laughs. "Oh well, the sooner we're ‘dating' the sooner we can make it official."

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to enjoy torturing me about this for the rest of my life? When we're old and gray you'll be like, ‘remember that time when we—' Wait, not that I meant we'd be old and gray together… Just like, we'll laugh about this one day…"

He laughs again. "You worry way too much." He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "See ya later, Wifey."

I purse my lips and give him narrow warning eyes. He doesn't seem to be paying attention. Meanwhile, my body nearly caves when his fingers brush the side of my cheek. "Try not to get into too much trouble until I see you later." I smile pleasantly. "You are younger than me, and a little wet behind the ears."

"Oh, really? You wanna play like that?"

I start to walk backwards. "I am technically the older party."

"Hey, wait. Where you're walking to, you have no car, remember?"

My smile falters. "Shit."

He laughs. "Jump in my truck, I'll drive you home."

My feet waste no time in walking back toward him. "Spoken like a true husband."

??

I've been a nervous wreck all evening going over and over everything in my mind. This isn't like me. Before Beau and Carrie's ridiculous idea, I lived my life in a little bubble. That bubble has now burst and there are no rainbows in sight. If I didn't like Beau so much, I'd curse the ground he walks on. I know he's trying to help me, and for that I'm grateful. But this whole thing has me really pent up with a combination of excitement and nervousness.

Plus, him acting so sexy at the cafe wasn't helping. His hand on the small of my back isn't a huge deal, but the way he was making sure everyone in the cafe knew I was his without words, sends fire through my veins. My core has been throbbing and I even contemplated having a little fun with my bullet before he came over. But knowing me I wouldn't hear him knocking, and then Beau would barge his way in and catch me in the act. Heat floods my cheeks. I'm thirty-three years old! I need to get a grip.

A little later, when the pizza guy's been and gone, I hear Beau's truck pull up.

My car is out of action until tomorrow, so I'll have to go collect it from Stoney Autos.

I've been sitting on the floor on a cushion, my back against the couch as I made a list of all the pros and cons to why this hair-brained idea has its flaws, or could work out for the two of us. The idea of just doing this for money still rattles around unsteadily inside me. I don't do things that cause me to lie, so I'm having a hard time with all of that. I don't like being dishonest to anyone, especially my family, as much as I think their rules are outdated and ridiculous. And try as I may to talk to them and my grandma about it over the years, they've always told me that family tradition cannot be broken, and that if I had any sense of solidarity, I'd understand my mom and Grandmother's wishes. They only want to see me happy, after all. And rich and successful with a house full of children; of course they didn't exactly speak those last words, they didn't have to.

I know in my family, a woman's place is in the home raising children and cooking her husband dinner; or in my mom's case, she has a cook do it. I've nothing against women who want that way of life. Hell, I like the idea of taking care of my future husband, but not at the expense of my hopes and dreams. Shouldn't those things all work in tandem so there's an equal balance?

Wait. My future husband? Holy shit… That's Beau.

Beau Bassett is going to be my husband and I'm about to lie to my family and friends just to get what I want. I don't know if I can go through with this.

A rat-a-tat on the door knocks me out of my reverie. I smooth my hands down my YALE sweatshirt. I'm not fancy when I'm at home, despite what people think. And sweats are my comfy go-to, like most people.

I suck in a breath.

It's just Beau, you can do this!

When I slide my hand on the doorknob and twist open the front door, he's standing there in jeans and a Star Wars hoodie, his hair still wet from a recent shower. And there's that scent again. What did he say it was again? Sauvage ? Jesus, it should be illegal. Beau Bassett should be illegal.

I realize I'm gaping at the same time he says, "Are you okay?"

I smile. "Yes. Sorry, I've had a million things going on. Come in."

He steps in, running a hand through his dark hair and I do not check out his ass. The same way I absolutely do not check out how filled out his shoulders are and how I've never really noticed he's quite brawny. And I refuse to give in to the wayward smile he gives me when he turns and catches me checking him out.

If I'm going to get through tonight, I think I need a shot of something strong. Then again, the last time I did that, I wound up agreeing to marry my best friend!

No alcohol.

We have to do this completely sober.

We can't have any outside factors influencing our decision making, aside from the fact we're both completely nuts. That part I'm fully aware of.