Chapter 7

7

Autumn

I'm puffed out with heat flushing my cheeks from exertion and I can't stop the thrumming of my heart while I struggle to breathe.

I know Beau let me win, but it's not just the adrenaline rush that has me in a tailspin.

Have I only just realized how adorable Beau Bassett really is? Have I been living under a rock all this time? Why am I noticing all the little details about him like the dark, blue color of his eyes, the way his hair flops down over his face even when he brushes it back, and how cute his butt is when he's running…

I need to tamper down those thoughts, but I can't deny that my core is well and truly throbbing after that hug. I mean, I could be just imagining it but I'm pretty sure I felt his dick pressing into me. And it was hard. It was very, very hard! Nothing about Beau Bassett is small, but I've never really given much thought to his package.

Now I feel like he's a hot geek under those glasses and hoodies he wears. The Clark Kent visual comes to mind once again and I stifle a groan.

Beau's hot.

And I'm realizing all of this in real time.

Not only is he hot, he's fucking amazing.

He always knows the right things to say, and he genuinely cares about me. He'd do anything to make me smile — and did — and I don't know, but he seemed pretty peeved when I joked about Only Fans. The idea makes me heady when I think about posing for him… Wait… Posing for him?

What the heck ? —

"You let me win." I press my hands to my knees as I bend forward, trying to catch my breath. "That's cheating."

"Well, I couldn't have you labeled a dirty rotten loser who stinks like a pig rolled in mud, could I?"

I slap a hand over my mouth. "Sometimes I have no filter."

He laughs. "Man, you can run fast." A sheen of sweat covers his brow and from his short, sharp breaths I see he's just as puffed as I am.

"I was in the relay when I was in high school," I pant. "I was pretty good."

"Are you two okay?" Hudson cocks a brow when he appears out of the bar doors.

I wave a hand at him. "We had a race, now I'm about to have a heart attack from running so fast."

"Me too," Beau says. "But I don't want CPR from you if I pass out, H, no offense."

He shakes his head. "Crazy kids," he mutters, walking back inside.

My cell rings, vibrating in my back pocket and I pull it around to see who's calling.

Georgia.

With a swift finger I swipe the screen. "Hey, G. I'm back at the barn."

"Hey, woah woah, why are you panting like that? Did I just catch you in the middle of something?"

I snort a laugh. "No, I'm with your brother."

"Uh, ew."

I have an urge to slap my forehead. "No, I meant, we just had a race from the creek to the barn. Anyway, what's up?"

"If you're done there, I'm taking Trudy to lunch if you want to join us?" Trudy is Callan's little sister.

"Sounds like a plan, I just have to get some shots now the archway is up."

"I saw it earlier, they did a great job, even though GP called me annoying."

I can't help but laugh. "Clearly he doesn't know the real you."

"That's what I told him. Anyway, how long will you be?"

"Give me twenty minutes."

"I'll come get you on the ATV."

"Sounds good."

We hang up and when I lift my head I find Beau watching me. He looks away when our eyes meet, and I sag against the barn door, my back pressing into the wood. "Holy shit, I think I am out of shape after all."

His lazy grin rolls right off him. "Nope, looked pretty good from where I was running."

I feel the jolt of my heart in my chest. "That's because you had a clear view of my derriere, duh."

He does not deny any of it, thumbing behind him. "I better get back to work before Gabe calls out a search party. If I'm gone for too long, they'll think I ran away when they don't find me in my bat cave."

I smile. Ever since I saw his gaming room, I renamed it his ‘bat cave,' and he's called it that from then on. "Well, we can't have that." I take my camera in hand and remove the lens. "I'll see you later then, if we're still on for the roof thing?"

He nods, backing away as he still faces me. "I'll bring my tools."

"Do you know the meaning of the word?"

"Hey, I can fix things… Okay, usually it's computer hard drives, but the mechanics are still the same."

"Whatever you say, Beauster." I give him a wave as he takes off.

I swear to God my heart does not stop beating like a runaway freight train until I get home, hours later. And it's all thanks to him.

??

I wasn't sure about Beau clattering around on my roof, and I'm concerned about his safety more than anything, but when Hudson arrives with him, I feel even more guilty because he's been working all day. To top it off, a few moments after they arrive, Brooklyn sidles up in his truck, ready to lend a hand.

My heart swells when I think about Beau having to ask them to come and check things out. I know he won't have told them how broke I am because one thing I know for sure is that my secrets are safe with Beau. He's close to his sister, but he doesn't tell her anything that we discuss. I know because she never brought up anything related to my problems during lunch, we just idly chatted.

It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to know my secrets are safe with him. Not to mention the way my body responded today when he came to check on me.

There was no mistaking the throb between my thighs all afternoon. I had to sit through lunch with the memory of Beau chasing me back to the barn. He has absolutely no clue just how sweet he is, and hot to boot. I guess that's why I really like him; he never acts showy or like he knows everything. He doesn't have to prove he's the smartest guy in the room by showing off or putting someone else down to prove a point. He's just… Beau.

"This really isn't nec—" I start, but Beau won't hear of it. He's already lining up a ladder and some safety equipment and kinda taking charge. I've never seen this side of him before. I always thought he was just a computer nerd who didn't really like getting his hands dirty. Maybe I misjudged him? Maybe I've misjudged a lot of things about him without realizing it?

"Hey, sweet cheeks." Brooklyn gives me a tip of his cowboy hat.

"Hi Brook, what are you doing here?"

He thumbs up to the roof. "My brother wants to try and impress you by cleaning out your gutters." He gives me a gentle elbow toward the ribs. "If you get my drift."

My lips part and my eyes go wide at the same time.

Beau slaps Brook upside the head, tipping his hat over his brow as he laughs. "Very funny, asshat."

Holy moly. I've only just realized Beau is wearing a fitted tank… When did he get so ripped? His shoulders and arms look different in a tank; he's more filled out than his normal clothes give him credit for.

I realize I'm staring and quickly look away. "Thank you for coming." I tuck my hair behind my ears. "But I really didn't want you to go to any trouble."

"It's no trouble," Beau answers as Brook hollers up to Hudson, who's already on my roof. "Nobody wants to see your house flooded, better to be safe than sorry."

"I should get you guys some coffee or something?"

"That would be great." He smiles, running a hand through his hair, which immediately flops back down like it usually does. I can't help but watch the movement. His bicep. His freaking underarm hair. And his scent… I remember it from our hug earlier. Goddamn, has he always smelled like this?

"White with two sugars?"

"Yep, cause' I'm not sweet enough." He grins.

"We both know that isn't true." I head inside before I make an even bigger fool out of myself. Why am I a dithering mess all of a sudden? It's like I can't string two words together. Enough already!

I go about making the coffee, unsure how Brook and Hudson take theirs, but they'll get what they're given.

I wish I could be more help, but all I can do is listen to them stomping around on my roof while Bruiser sits on high alert on his cat run, wondering what all the fuss is about.

"No, we're not going to fantasize about a certain someone. We are not." I say out loud. "Especially when that certain someone smells like a Dior advert and sprouted muscles and a package that leaves little to the imag?—"

"You got a wrench?" Beau's deep voice rumbles across the kitchen. When did he come inside?

My eyes widen and I freeze on the spot. I slowly turn, my cheeks already flaming red. There is no way in Hell he didn't just hear me.

I clear my throat. "Uh." I frown. "Do I look like the kind of girl who knows if she has a wrench?"

He stares at me for a moment, a smirk on his lips. Oh, he definitely heard me alright.

Shit.

Abort mission… Wait, what mission? Mission to sound like a complete lunatic? Mission accomplished.

"Where's your toolbox?"

He. Did. Not.

Why does everything we say now sound dirty?

"I… I don't really have one." I think for a second. "Wait! When my brother was here, he was fixing my leaky washing machine last month, so he probably left some tools out in the garage."

He's still smirking at me. "Great. Lead the way."

He knows the way to the garage. He freaking knows.

"Umm."

There's amusement laced in his voice, "You good, Autumn Leaf?"

With my back to him, I set the cream down. "I'm fine, Beauster." Somehow, his old nickname doesn't seem enough. "I'm just grateful you guys came over."

"What are friends for?"

Is it just me, or does he accentuate the word friends. God, now I'm hearing voices.

I shake it off. I need to clear my head, but at every turn, Beau's there, smelling like a freaking Greek God and looking like the cat who got the cream. "Can I pet Bruiser?"

I love how he still asks. "If you want your hand bitten off, go for it."

By some miracle, he manages to get my cat into his arms and… Bruiser purrs like a kitten as Beau tickles his stomach, calling him a good little kitty.

Good little kitty?

Every single thing he says touches a nerve deep down inside me.

"He likes me," he says.

Of course my cat likes him. Anybody on the planet would like him.

"You got him on a good day," I mutter.

"Nope. Cats can sense these things. I'm a kitty guy, what can I say?"

Holy crap, I'm so going to Hell.

"You know what they say? Men who like cats are apparently willing to put the work in…" What the hell is wrong with me?

He cocks a brow. "Put the work into what?"

I clear my throat. This is Beau. The same old Beau you've known and adored for years. SNAP OUT OF IT! "Relationships. Friendships. Cats make us work for their trust, love and affection more than dogs do." Great save, weirdo.

He keeps tickling my cat as I move past them toward the garage entry from the other side of the kitchen. "I would agree with that. Cats also have that sixth sense, so if I wasn't a good guy, I bet Bruiser would scratch my eyes out and leave me for dust while he protected your honor."

I laugh. "He did chase the delivery guy a couple of times, the poor man was terrified."

I switch the garage light on and see the toolbox on the shelf inside the empty space.

Beau whistles low between his teeth. I turn to look at him. "What?"

"I've never seen a garage before with just a car parked inside."

I roll my eyes. "Sure you have."

"I'm serious. Usually everyone has their old junk up to the ceiling. You have a dusty shelf with a solitary toolbox and some engine oil."

"I'm kinda minimal."

"I'm just realizing that about you."

He takes over, opening the toolbox — all while still holding my cat — and then pulls the wrench out. "Got it."

"What's the wrench for?"

"I need to try and get a gutter loose."

"What? Why?"

He passes Bruiser to me."Don't panic, your gutters are full of leaves. Cleaning them out will only help the water draining and it'll be less pressure on the roof."

"Makes sense."

"I'm not just a pretty face." He waggles his eyebrows. "Anyway, I'd better get back to it before Hudson blows a gasket."

I nod, following him back out. I plop Bruiser down on the lounge and continue to make the coffee. As I head out with everything on a tray, including some of Verne's lemon bars I picked up from the bakery on the way home, Brook, Hudson and Beau are all on the roof. It makes me nervous but they seem to know what they're doing.

Then all of a sudden, Brook is doubled over laughing his ass off as Beau gets doused in a whole load of mud and leaves from the end of the gutter.

"Shit!" Beau yells. "Brook! You're not supposed to tip the crap all over me."

"I didn't mean to!" Brook defends, holding his palms up. "There were leaves stuck in the middle, must've been a build up of sludge…" That Beau's now wearing.

Oh, no. I feel terrible he just got covered in mud, but he does look kinda funny and I have to work to hide my smile.

To his credit, they finish cleaning the gutter and Brook wastes no time in hooking it back onto the side of the roof, all the while Hudson is hammering nails into some shingles he found on the farm. These dear boys. I'll never be so grateful.

Beau climbs down the ladder, his tank completely soaked and mud all over his arms and even some on his face.

I wipe my hand over his chin, trying to get some of the mud off but he doesn't seem fazed about it.

"Here I was thinking you were the precious princess all along," I muse.

He shakes his head. "See, I told you getting my hands dirty was second nature, and I wasn't lying."

I screw up my nose. "You smell."

He leans toward his tank, pulling the fabric up slightly and sniffs. "Yep, dirty old water stinks like smelly feet. Mind if I strip this off?"

Why would I mind?

I shake my head, trying to act normal.

His strong hands reach for the hem of his shirt and peels it off his body.

And I'm shook.

Holy crap. Beau is stacked.

He has abs. He has pecs. He has the whole damn package. He really is Superman under those clothes. The muscles you can't quite detect underneath are deceiving and I'm wondering when he finds the time to work out? I didn't know he went to a gym. I can't be sure, but I may hum in semi-silent appreciation.

"My eyes are up here." His voice has also dropped an octave.

My eyes flick to his, embarrassed I've been caught gawking. "I should get you a towel."

"That'd be great."

I tear my eyes away from him and head inside. Panic hits me from all sides as I enter the house.

What is this?

Do I have a crush on Beau?

I mean, he's been flirty this past week, but he's always poking fun at me and having a joke at my expense. That's nothing new. Is it just my imagination, or is he different somehow?

I can't work it out.

I groan, the frustration coursing through my body only means one thing; I have a date tonight with my battery boyfriend. Courtesy of Beau Bassett.