I wouldn’t dare speak to her,
I don’t have the brains.
The way people speak and write nowadays makes my head hurt.
–Cyrano de Bergerac
Beast’s anxiety is a grey cloud circling the air around us.
“Take a deep breath,” I tell him. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t get some oxygen.”
He complies, big shoulders moving up and down as he inhales and exhales.
We arrived fifteen minutes early and thankfully, Caroline hasn’t shown up yet.
We commandeered a couple of empty booths near the back. I’m taking the one in the corner, where I can sit with my back to the diner and use the mirror overhead to get a view of the action.
To alleviate the burden of ordering using his phone or sign language, we already ordered coffees and water. The waitress is being tipped substantially to not mention that I came in with him.
“It will all be fine. Be yourself.” I pat him on the shoulder, only a possibility since he’s sitting in the booth and I’m standing next to him. I check the front window periodically for Caroline to appear.
He picks up his phone from the table in front of him. “That’s a terrible idea,” it drawls. Grace changed the voice and now instead of a robotic female, it sounds like Morgan Freeman.
“You’re yourself with me.”
“That’s different. I like you.”
I know he doesn’t mean it in a romantic way, but a zing zips down my spine anyway, followed by an immediate internal admonishment. I’m here to help him date someone else.
Outside, a small blue Honda pulls into the lot. A blonde steps out, adjusting her purse and tugging at her short skirt as she walks to the entrance.
“She’s here. I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
I pull up the hood on my sweater and sit in the booth directly behind him, our backs facing each other, my eyes on the mirror in the corner.
I fiddle with the plate of food in front of me, an attempt to not appear suspicious despite the hood covering the back of my head. Thankfully the diner has their AC pumping, otherwise I might be sweltering with this disguise.
Caroline immediately spots Beast from the front door and walks over to his booth, sliding into the red vinyl booth seat across from him.
“Hi! I’m so happy to finally spend some time with you outside of your work.” Her voice is peppy, upbeat, with a slight Southern twang. Her outfit is more modest than what she wears to Bodean’s, the neckline higher, only exposing slight cleavage. Church cleavage, if you will. A row of demure pearls decorates her neck and her hair is in flowing golden waves. She smiles and she has two perfect dimples, one in each cheek. She really is adorable.
Damn her.
“I am happy as well,” Morgan Freeman’s voice says.
Caroline giggles and her hands cover her mouth. “Well, if that isn’t the sweetest thing. You’re so smart to figure out how to use your phone like that.”
“It was a friend’s idea,” the phone spits out a few seconds later.
“Oh.” Caroline nods and smiles, and then the conversation stalls. “So, um.” She picks up the mug. “Thanks for the coffee.” She grabs some sugar from the side and stirs it in with her spoon while they sit in silence.
A text lights up my phone.
What do I say?
I type quickly. Ask her questions about herself. What she likes to do, what she’s majoring in at school.
And he does.
And it’s not too bad. It’s a little stilted, but they manage to move the conversation along. Caroline grew up in Blue Falls. She likes to scrapbook and knit. She’s majoring in early childhood education because she wants to be a preschool teacher. I can’t even make this stuff up. Hell, I want to date her. The more perfect she is, the more my stomach heaves.
“What do you like to do for fun?” she asks him.
“I like cooking. I’m majoring in culinary science.”
In the mirror, Caroline’s eyes brighten and she leans in, crossing her arms and resting her elbows on the table. The move pumps up her cleavage.
It’s so natural, like she’s not even aware of it. She is good.
“You like to cook? You should cook me dinner sometime.” She trails her fingers over her pearls and watches him from under her eyelashes.
Beast’s ears go red.
He rubs the back of his neck and picks up his phone.
What do I say?
Do you want to cook her dinner? If so, just say you’d be happy to.
Fingers flying, he tells her he does.
Caroline beams at him.
And just like that, I’ve been rendered useless. I’m like the eye holes in Daredevil’s mask. He doesn’t need me. Envy claws at my insides. Caroline is confident. She knows what she wants and she goes after it. She might be putting out this whole Suzy Homemaker vibe, but it works for her. I can’t even make out with someone at a party when we’re both boozed up.
I shake my head and try to focus on the conversation playing out behind me. This isn’t about me.
“You’re so sweet. And that voice. It’s so sexy.”
He rubs his neck. I know he’s not sure how to respond. I text him before he can ask.
Tell her thank you. I hit send and then sigh and type some more. And if you think anything of hers is sexy, respond in kind.
He reads my text and a few seconds later, Morgan Freeman speaks. “Thank you. I like your voice, too.”
Hmmm. Maybe we’re not quite ready for the sexy talk.
But it’s still rather endearing. And Caroline seems to agree because she’s looking at him like she wants him to be her next meal.
My screen brightens with an incoming text. Am I screwing this up?
You’re doing great. Relax.
He takes a visible breath and his shoulders lose a half inch of tension.
Her smile deepens, eyes sultry even in the reflection above me. “We can go somewhere else and do less talking. You won’t even need your phone.” And then she puts her hand on his and bites her lip with perfect seduction.
She must practice the move. When I try stuff like that in the mirror, l look like a piranha.
Life is so unfair.
His giant shoulders are bunched again. He’s frozen.
I send him a text, forcing my thumbs to key out the words. If you want to go, then go. I can get a ride.
His head twitches to the side, a denial.
Why wouldn’t he? She’s cute. She’s damn near perfect and she’s throwing herself at him. She’s all but begging for it. My teeth grind. My hand clenches on the butter knife sitting on the table. I will not turn around and throw it at her head.
Then he’s typing and Morgan Freeman’s voice fills the air again. “I can’t today. Maybe next time?”
Caroline sticks out her out bottom lip in a pretty pout. “I’ll be out of town for the next two weeks. Family trip to Florida. We’re leaving day after tomorrow.”
He types. “When you get back then?”
She’s all dimples. “That sounds great. I should get going. I have a lot of packing to do.” She stands and after a brief hesitation when he remains seated, she leans over, kisses him on the cheek, and leaves.
Five minutes later, we’re back in Fitz’s truck. We waited until she pulled out of the parking lot to leave the diner together.
I expect Beast to want to chat, but apparently, he needs a minute to process because without a word, we’re on the move. We’re almost to the road that leads to the ranch when he pulls off onto the dirt shoulder and stops under a tree.
He puts the truck in park and rubs his face.
After a few minutes of silence, I have to ask. “What is it? Why didn’t you go with her?”
His head lifts and his gaze cuts to mine.
His mouth opens and for a second my heart stops, thinking he’s actually going to speak, but then he pulls his phone out of his pocket and slides to the middle of the bench seat.
I scoot in his direction to better read what he’s typing.
I’ve never . . . the words stop.
I stare at his profile. “You’ve never what? Had sex?”
No. Yes.
He stops again.
“What is it? You’ve what, never been kissed?” I laugh.
He’s not laughing. I glance up at him in the silence and find him watching me, dark eyes wary, brows low.
“Oh.”
He looks away.
“No, Beast.” I put a hand on his arm but he won’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny, but it’s also not a big deal.”
That gets his attention. Eyes wide, brows up. He’s incredulous.
He types on his phone. I’m nineteen.
“So what?” Another thought makes my stomach drop. “Beast. Oh my god. When I attacked you with my mouth, is that why you stopped me?”
He rolls his eyes so hard, his head circles with the effort. You didn’t attack me. But kind of. I was nervous. I don’t know what to do. I’m probably bad at it.
“So.” My brain is trying to put all this together. Beast. This giant, hunky man has never kissed anyone? It doesn’t compute. “You’ve never ever even . . .” I trail off since he starts typing.
His thumbs fly over the screen. I’ve never so much as held someone’s hand. You put two and two together.
“I get it, I’m just surprised because you’re so—”
He continues typing. It’s not like I’ve had opportunities. Not until we moved here.
We stare at each other for a second and then he types again and my eyes fly to his fingers—the large digits flowing across the small phone.
Women will look at me but once they figure out I can’t speak, they move on. It’s too hard, and I’m not worth the effort.
No wonder he was so empathetic about my own feelings of worthlessness. He knows what it’s like.
“Beast, you’re worth every effort. If women can’t see that, it’s their loss.”
He shakes his head. If I kiss Caroline, I’ll be terrible at it and she’ll tell everyone and I’ll never date again.
“I get being nervous about it. But if she likes you, and it’s pretty obvious she does, she won’t care. It won’t matter.” And actually it’s kinda hot, him being all huge and handsome and untouched. Does that make me a pervert?
Is that how it was with you and Jack?
“Yes.” I shrug. “Sort of. We were both young. So there were a lot of mutual nerves happening. But then we got comfortable and . . . well, it was never that great, actually. But Jack and I are not you and . . . Caroline. Or anyone else. We were not good together. Jack wasn’t good in general. With Jack, sex was about him getting off and not much else.”
I should have seen the signs.
It seems like Jack was kind of a dick.
I nod. “Kind of being an understatement.”
He frowns down at his phone, no longer typing. I scan out the window, giving him a little space to collect his thoughts.
He taps my arm and I turn back to him.
He’s holding up his phone in my direction.
We could kiss.