CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The footsteps Bea had come to know so well clomping up her stairs made her smile at just after four o’clock. She’d been on and off the phone with Kim all day and was already underway with some preliminary work for Cranky Bea’s advertising strategy, and she couldn’t wait to tell Austin.
The key turned in the lock, and Bea glanced up from where she was sitting on the couch, the laptop placed in front of her on the coffee table as Austin pushed the door open and stepped inside. His big grin of greeting died a quick death as he looked around him.
“What the hell happened in here?” he asked, removing his hat, clearly taken aback.
Bea laughed at his shocked expression. “I tidied.”
“Tidied?” He glanced around again at the spotless floors and the gleaming, uncluttered surfaces of the kitchen. At the cleared coffee table and couch that had been relieved of layers of junk and the beautifully made bed. Even Princess sitting regally square in the middle looked like she’d been spruced up. “I could have my tonsils out in here.”
Smiling, Bea stood and crossed to him—a process much simpler now that she didn’t have to dodge the wastebasket in the middle of the floor and the paper that hadn’t quite made it or the discarded clothes.
Slipping her arms around his waist, she beamed up at Austin. “I thought it was time.”
She kissed him then, and he kissed her back with the kind of hunger that still felt special even as it also somehow felt familiar. She’d been busy today, but not too busy to miss this. To miss Austin and the way he made her feel like the only woman in the world.
His hands slid to her ass, and the kiss broke off abruptly as he pulled away a little and glanced down her body. “You’re…” He frowned. “Dressed?”
Bea laughed again. “If you call cargoes and a T-shirt dressed, then yes.”
Austin tossed his hat on the gleaming dark wood of the coffee table, then took a step back, shoving his hands on his hips. “Who are you and what have you done with Beatrice?” He softened the question with a slight smile on his mouth, but he was clearly nonplussed as he looked her up and down. His frown deepened. “You’re wearing a bra.”
She shrugged. “I can’t work with boob sweat.”
He laughed, and Bea breathed a little easier. All that frowning was concerning. “You seem to have managed pretty well this past month.”
Bea dismissed his statement with a casual flick of her hand. “That’s creative work.”
Being braless and lounging in bed, surrounded by uneaten pizza crusts and a giant, slumberous cat, or sometimes driving out to the lake, was for the fanciful life of an artist. Advertising was business. And for that, Bea needed ruthless order. Everything in its place.
He was frowning again. “Are you doing other work?”
Trying not to dance a little jig on the spot, Bea grinned as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yes.” And she stepped right in and kissed him again. She kissed him hard, moaning as he kissed her back just as hard, his hands sliding back to her ass and pulling her in close, squeezing and kneading.
When he finally pulled away, Bea’s pulse was trippy and she was seeing stars as well as a hazy aura around his head. He looked so damn good, and she was so damn content.
She slipped out of his arms and headed for the fridge. “You want a beer?”
“Thanks,” Austin said with a nod and caught the can Bea tossed to him, giving it a few beats to settle before popping the tab.
She grabbed one for herself and headed for the couch, sitting side on and crossing her legs. Austin looked down at the couch like he’d never seen it before. “The couch is blue?”
Bea grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Just sit.”
He sat in that sprawled, easy kind of way of his, all long-legged and loose-limbed and so damn masculine as she launched into her exciting news, gabbing away about Kim’s job offer. Princess deigned to join them at some point, and there they sat on her blue couch, a large purring cat jammed between them as Bea relayed the content of every phone call and email.
Austin, for his part, was encouraging and clearly pleased for her, nodding and smiling and making all the right noises, but when Bea finally ran out of steam, he was a bit too quiet, his gaze speculative.
It was her turn to frown. “What?” She swiped her hand across her face. “Did I have a booger on my nose this entire time?”
He laughed and placed his beer can down on the coaster. He glanced at her in surprise. “You have coasters, too?”
“I found them in one of the kitchen drawers.” Was that a problem? “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. Then he reached for her beer can and set it down on the other coaster before taking both of her hands. “It’s just… Are you sure this is what you want? I thought you were done with advertising? You were kinda burned and burned out by it when you first got here.”
Ah. Okay. He was worried about her health, her sanity. God…this man was so freaking thoughtful.
“I thought so, too.” She slipped her hands from his, then stood to make her case, maybe as much to herself as to him. “I thought I was done. I thought it was Credence or advertising and there was no in-between. No middle ground. But I think what Kim’s offering is the middle ground. It’s just one campaign—selling my product—that’s it. One and done. And I can do it all from here. I think this is the best of both worlds. And, Austin…the ideas floating around in my head! I’d forgotten what a buzz it could be.”
He smiled and reached for her hand, and she let him drag her closer until she was standing between those sprawled thighs—a most delectable view. His hands slid to the backs of her knees. “You’re really excited about this.”
“Yes. I am.” She could feel the heat of the buzz in her cheeks. “I know my current lifestyle will have to change for the next few months. I’ll be juggling the Cranky Bea card design stuff with the Cranky Bea advertising stuff, but don’t worry, I have no intention of letting it take over my world again.” Bea stepped in closer, and he took advantage, dropping a kiss on her belly as she funneled her fingers through his hair. “There’ll still be Wednesday night line dancing at Jack’s and the ranch on Sundays.”
He shook his head and flicked his gaze up. “I’m not worried. It’s your life, your career; you gotta follow your heart.”
“Mmm.” Bea ran her fingers through the scruff at Austin’s jaw. “Good answer.”
Smiling, he said, “Like I told you already—you do you, and I’ll keep bringing the pie and orgasms.”
Bea laughed. “Even better answer.” Her heart broke open a little at how easy it was to be with Austin. How low drama it felt. How natural it felt. For the first time, she considered that maybe having a relationship and a career didn’t have to be mutually exclusive.
“I think we should go to Jack’s and celebrate,” he murmured, planting his chin just above the waistband of her pants and looking up her body, capturing her gaze. “You should wear that yellow dress again.”
She smiled. “Oh, I think we should definitely celebrate.” And she leered at him in a way that could leave him in no doubt as to her immediate need.
He grinned. “So that’s a no to Jack’s?”
Bea slid her hand to Austin’s chin, taking it in a firm grasp. “That’s a no.” Then she pushed him until he was sprawled back against the couch, looking as hot as the Mojave in August.
Reaching for his hat, she placed it on her head, smiled, and straddled his lap…
…
Over the next month, Austin got used to seeing Beatrice dressed and at her desk—yes, she’d bought a desk from IKEA and had it shipped to Credence. It was the opposite of how she’d been that first day in her stained sweats with crazy hair and ice cream dripping down her arm, but that was fine. He’d liked all the faces of Beatrice, from the sweats to the day-of-the-week underwear to the yellow dress and now the businesswoman.
Actually, the businesswoman was kinda hot. He knew from that rambling speech her first day that this wasn’t the LA version of Beatrice, but all that ruthless efficiency—from the way she kept things on her desk just so to how she wrote lists on Post-it notes and got excited when she checked everything off—was a surprising turn-on.
He always brought pie as promised, and she always stopped and shut her laptop down and joined him on the couch or the bed, devouring whatever was in the packet as they chatted about their respective days. He laughed at her latest Cranky Bea designs—although she seemed less invested in them now than the actual campaign itself—and she laughed at whatever tale he had to tell from whatever zany incident he’d had to deal with during his shift.
It was a rare day in Credence when some kind of zany wasn’t going down.
They went to Jack’s for line dancing on Wednesday nights and to the ranch on Sundays. They’d watched all of The Walking Dead now and had moved on to watching Friends. And he was still supplying her with all the orgasms she wanted.
Ostensibly, nothing really changed. To an outsider, it probably just looked like they were settling into a groove. Which should have made Austin happy. But…things were shifting, he could feel it, in the little moments. Like, Beatrice had stopped drinking beer for breakfast. Okay, that was probably wise and advisable, and she was still eating all the pie, but now she brushed off all the crumbs immediately and scooped them into the trash. After sleeping with almost constant crumbs the last couple of months, it had apparently become a problem.
She took a lot of phone calls—a lot. Which of course she would now that she was working on a big project. He understood. No biggie. He could adjust. But the entire time they’d been together, Beatrice had been 100 percent focused on whatever they were doing, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of her wavering attention.
And that sat like a lump of lard in his belly.
As did her insistence last week, during his stint of three night shifts, that he slept back at his cabin afterward. Because she was worried she’d disturb his sleep with her phone calls and, he supposed, her key tapping? He’d seen her for a sum total of about six hours those three days and they’d been intimate only once in that time.
The most telling of all, however, was that Beatrice was now wearing the correct day-of-the-week underwear.
He tried not to let any of it bug him. The last thing she needed was a spoiled, whiny man-baby lamenting her lack of attention. Austin wasn’t that guy. He didn’t want to be the guy standing in front of her opportunities, making everything about him and his needs.
Because that was total bullshit.
He just wished that he and Beatrice had talked about the state of their relationship prior to this, instead of studiously not putting a name to it. He’d deliberately never broached it because he hadn’t wanted her to bolt. But it did leave him unsure of where he stood now, and damn it, he’d never been that guy—the insecure one.
And he didn’t like it at all.
All those things weighed on his mind as he made his way up the stairs to her apartment on Wednesday. He’d had to work late to finish off a stack of paperwork that had been building, which had made for a very long day, and he was tired. But he knew, the second he saw Beatrice, that would all lift, and it was line dancing night. They could get out and socialize for a while—kick back, have some fun.
But when he opened the door, she was still sitting at her desk, in her shorts and T-shirt, her glorious red hair he’d last seen loose and tangled and spread over his pillow caught up in a neat little knot at the back of her head.
“Hey,” she threw over her shoulder as she stabbed at the keys on her laptop.
“Hey,” he returned as he dropped a kiss at her nape. “Mmm.” He nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.” She always smelled good.
“So do you,” she murmured, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
It was tempting to stay right here, to slide his hands down the front of her shirt, cup her breasts and feel her nipples harden beneath the brush of his thumb. But if they didn’t shake a tail feather, Beatrice would miss the start of her class. “You wearing that to Jack’s?” he asked as he reluctantly straightened.
“Oh.” Her fingers stopped tapping on the keys, and she looked up at him over her shoulder. “Do you mind if I take a rain check tonight? This has got to be done by Sunday night, and I’m really down to the wire now.”
Austin forced himself to casually shake his head. “Of course not.” Then he forced himself to drop a casual kiss on her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him and slid a hand over his where it rested on his shoulder. “But you should still go and catch up with the regular crowd.”
Austin opened his mouth to decline, then shut it again. Actually, getting out would be a distraction from the bubbles of anxiety that simmered in his gut and demonstrate he had interests outside of…whatever this was. Plus, he didn’t want Beatrice thinking he was looming over her shoulder, impatiently waiting for her to finish so he could have some him time.
“Yeah. Think I will.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll just get dressed.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, but she was already turning back to the keyboard. And when Austin dropped another kiss on her neck and said goodbye fifteen minutes later, she didn’t even look up. She just murmured, “Bye,” and kept typing.
…
When he got back from Jack’s at just after nine, Beatrice was still at her desk, on the phone. She smiled at him and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” as he entered the apartment.
Austin returned her smile as he crossed to her and kissed her on the head. “It’s fine,” he whispered. “I’m going to bed; I’m beat.” Which was the truth. He really was tired.
She nodded and mouthed, “Okay,” then replied to something somebody—Kim, he assumed—had said on the other end.
By the time he’d shucked his clothes and shooed Princess off his pillow, Beatrice was saying her goodbyes. She hung up just as he flipped off the bedside lamp and slipped between the sheets. “I’m sorry,” she apologized as she strode toward the bed, putting one knee and then the other on the mattress and crawling up it. Austin spread his legs to make room for her, and within seconds she was settling herself against him. Suddenly parts of him weren’t feeling so tired anymore.
“I thought I’d be done by now.”
Her lips landed on his, and Austin slipped his hands onto her ass and held her close. “Mmm, beer,” she murmured against his mouth before she continued the kiss. The sweet intoxication of her scent filled his senses. His breathing roughened and his heart slugged against his rib cage as the kiss deepened.
Christ—he could do this all damn night.
Too soon, though, she broke off the kiss with a sigh, and he knew she was going back to her desk. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I’ve got to get back to it. I’m nearly done.”
Austin ran his fingers down her forearm. “It’s fine,” he assured. It was fine, damn it. This was what happened in relationships—even if they weren’t calling it that—after the initial heady stuff.
She glanced down at the bulge under the sheet. “I could”—she waggled her eyebrows—“help you with that real quick if you want?”
Austin wasn’t opposed to the idea of a quickie hand or blow job as a general rule, but Jesus, what sort of an asshole would he be to agree to that when she was clearly trying to get this done?
He didn’t need a pity orgasm no matter how much his cock disagreed.
“Thanks.” He grinned. “It’ll survive. Wake me when you’re done and you can have at it.”
She grinned. “Deal.” Then she wriggled off the bed.
Austin chuckled as he pulled up the sheet, and she made her way back to the desk. God, he’d missed her at Jack’s. He’d quickly grown used to having her at his side, and when she wasn’t, it felt like he was missing his other half. And what that meant, he didn’t want to think about, because if he slipped and voiced any of this stuff around Beatrice, this thing they were doing, might all come toppling down...
…
When Sunday came around, Austin went to the ranch by himself. Beatrice’s proposal was finished and she’d been looking forward to getting on Buffy but then the phone had rung. Kim. Something had come up to do with Monday’s presentation requiring a major rework and Beatrice had begged off accompanying him.
Which was fine. Of course she had to deal with whatever crisis had arisen. Couples just didn’t spend every waking and sleeping hour in each other’s pockets. But he got the feeling she was pulling away—if only subconsciously—and a trickle of unease had run down his spine.
None of his family thought anything of it when he arrived without Beatrice, and Austin did his level best to be chipper all afternoon. He even stayed for dinner to give her more time to work things out.
Still, he was relieved when dinner was over and it was time to leave.
“Everything okay with you?” his mother asked as she walked him out to his pickup.
He nodded. “Yep.”
“You seem a little…distracted today.”
Austin wasn’t surprised his mother had sensed his unease. She’d always had a strong mom radar. “I’m sure.”
She nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. “Everything okay with Bea?”
“Yeah…she’s just busy with the campaign..”
“Okay,” she said with a smile, then fell silent for a beat or two. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
He glanced at his mother swiftly, shocked at the suggestion, rejecting it immediately. “Mom…no. That’s ridiculous. It’s only been a few months.”
She gave him one of her wise old smiles. “Some people know within a few hours, Austin.”
He snorted. “That’s lust, not love.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “Oh, to be young and know so much,” she teased.
Austin gritted his teeth at the reference to his age. A month ago, it hadn’t been an issue for him—it had never been an issue. But a lot had changed recently, and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to being anxious that Beatrice’s issue with their age difference could, once again, become a thing.
Bugging his eyes at her, he said, “Good night, Mom.” Then he leaned in and pecked her on the cheek.
“Night, son,” she called after him.
Austin departed, glad to be away from the shrewdness of Margaret Cooper’s wildly pinging radar. Still, her question turned over and over in his brain as he drove into Credence. He liked Beatrice—very much. He liked her more than any other woman he’d been with. He’d never laughed so hard or enjoyed himself so much. Did he lust after her? Hell fucking yes.
But love…?
He shied away from it. From its enormity. From the sure and certain knowledge that Beatrice would reject it and him, outright, if it was even uttered. They needed more time before declarations were made. Time to become so much a part of the fabric of each other’s lives that not being together was simply unbearable.
And that’s where he needed to keep his focus.
Austin felt much better about their direction as he climbed the stairs to Beatrice’s apartment twenty minutes later. She was here with him in Credence and that was all that mattered. Okay, she was no longer a woman of leisure and her new job was demanding a lot of her time, but his job was demanding, too.
The first thing he noticed when he stepped inside the apartment was that Beatrice wasn’t at her desk. The second was the small suitcase sitting ominously on the couch. And all his bravado and mental pep talks crashed to the ground into a fiery death spiral.
“Hey,” she called from behind him.
Austin turned to find Beatrice sitting up in bed, her red hair a vibrant splash against the dull gray of the wall. With one hand, she was petting Princess, who was sprawled across her thighs, and with the other, she was holding a sheaf of papers.
“Did you get things sorted?” Austin asked, trying to sound normal while all the time the suitcase loomed in his peripheral vision like a loaded shotgun.
She grinned and held up the papers in her hand. “Finally, yes.”
Austin nodded, his gaze wandering to her suitcase. He swallowed against a mouth that was suddenly dry as Eastern Colorado dust. “Are you…” He returned his attention to Beatrice. “Going somewhere?”
“Yes. To LA. In the morning. Gotta leave at five to make my flight in time.”
There was no hesitation, no tentativeness, no apology in her voice. No, hope you don’t mind. Of course, she didn’t need his permission. But it did put his position in her life squarely in place. This, he realized suddenly, was the downside to avoiding any relationship tags.
If nothing was official, there wasn’t any need to consider the other person’s thoughts/feelings/opinions about decisions that, while up to the individual, could impact the other person.
“Oh…when did that happen?”
“Kim and I were talking on the phone and we decided it’s so much better to pitch these things face-to-face. Teleconferencing is fine for a lot of things, but for something like this, being in the same room is so much more advantageous.”
“Right.”
She gave a half laugh. “You’re looking a little weird. It’s just for Monday. I’ll be back Tuesday.”
Austin’s relief was like a cool breeze blowing through his system as he forced the muscles in his face to smooth out and smiled. He sighed with faux-dramatic intensity. “Except if you’re dazzled by all those big city lights and we’ll never see you again.” He kept his voice light and teasing, but that right there was his absolute worst fear.
“Not freaking likely,” she said with vehemence. “I’m a country girl now.”
Her words were comforting, and the tension across Austin’s shoulders eased.
“I don’t know,” he continued to tease, because he would act like this was no big deal if it killed him, “all those guys in suits.”
She smiled and shook her head, her gaze taking a very thorough wander over his body. “Give me a guy in jeans and a hat who knows how to do a burnout any day.”
“Oh yeah? I know somebody just like that.” Austin threw his hat on the bed as he toed off his shoes.
Her gaze dropped to his crotch. “Lucky me.”
Princess, who by now had some uncanny feline intuition when it came to their sexual signals, sat herself up with an irritated meow. Rising to her feet, she walked off the bed, leaving them to it, her paws hitting the floor about the same time as Austin’s belt.
He pulled his shirttails out and started on the buttons. “You sure you want to do this? You have an early start.” And right now, he just wanted to be with Beatrice, even if it was just curled around her while they slept.
In the blink of an eye, she’d whipped off her T-shirt. Her bare breasts, the nipples hardening before his eyes, were as tempting as ever. “What do you think?”
Think? The rush of blood to his dick from his brain left Austin incapable of thinking anything other than boobs. He closed the distance between them with more speed than grace, settling his body on top of hers. Their mouths fused, her arms wound around his neck, her legs wound around his waist as she kissed him deep and hard, and he almost lost his mind. It felt good. It felt perfect. Like everything he’d ever wanted was right here in his arms.
So why did it also feel like goodbye?