Beard Science (Winston Brothers Book 3) (10 page)

“I made sausage.” Cletus stepped in front of Beau. “That’s what Beau means. My sausage was for dinner and people ate it.”

“Yes.” Beau stepped forward again, bumping Cletus with his shoulder, adding with a smirk, “Cletus’s famous sausage is famous.”

Cletus’s eyes cut to the side and he glared at his younger brother. “You are exceedingly irksome.”

I shook my head, taking a step back and tossing my thumb over my shoulder. “No thanks. I don’t want to impose. My car is still running.”

“I turned it off.” This statement came from behind me.

I twisted at the waist and found Billy Winston walking up the porch steps. My heart jumped to my throat and I stumbled back a step.

Oh no!

I pressed my lips together and stared at him, because that’s all I could do without making an idiot of myself.

Don’t say anything. Don’t speak. Don’t even breathe.

He held out my keys and his handsome mouth curved in a slight, quizzical smile. “You left your driver’s side door open.”

“Planning to make a quick getaway?” Beau asked with a laugh.

I glanced dumbly between Billy and my keys. I stared for so long Billy’s smile morphed into a confused frown.

“Take your keys,” Cletus said sharply.

So I did. I snatched my keys from Billy’s hand and lowered my eyes to the porch. Good Lord, this was the worst.

A moment of excruciatingly uncomfortable silence passed, during which I stared at my tennis shoes. I felt Cletus’s eyes on me, burning into the side of my face.

“Well,” I croaked, “enjoy your sad cake.” I grimaced, shaking my head and covering my eyes with a hand. “I mean, don’t enjoy it. Just, eat it. Or don’t eat it. It goes well with milk.”

Another suffocating moment passed and I wanted to die. Instead, I turned awkwardly toward the steps and muttered, “I’ll just be going now.”

“No, wait,” Cletus said.

I turned and saw him unload the baked goods into Beau’s arms. “Take these and go inside. Billy, grab the sad cake. We’ll be in soon.”

Billy gave me a weird smile, like he was a little afraid of me, and I can’t say I blamed him. Meanwhile, Beau winked in my direction and disappeared into the house with a grin. 

As soon as the door closed, Cletus turned, his hands on his hips, his eyes large and watchful. “Tell me what just happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“With Billy. What just happened with Billy? What was that?”

I covered my face with my hands. “It was really terrible, wasn’t it?”

“Not terrible . . .” he started, but didn’t finish.

“Right. Not terrible compared to a plane crash.”

He was silent for a moment. And then I heard laughter.

I peeked at him from between my fingers. Sure enough, Cletus was laughing.

My hands dropped and I couldn’t help my smile or my chuckle. His laughter was contagious. Bright eyes captivated me, made even brighter by his pretty lashes, and an exceedingly pleasing mouth full of straight, white teeth. Cletus’s laughter sent a warm and rich something pumping through my veins; it made me think of Swiss chocolate, semi-sweetened, and whipped with cream into a thick, dark, luscious ganache.

“Yeah,” he wiped at his eyes and shook his head, “you’re right. That was pretty terrible.”

I sighed, still smiling because he was still smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s fine. You fancy Billy.” He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

I frowned and shook my head. “No. No, no. That’s not it at all. I don’t fancy Billy.”

Cletus straightened, his eyebrows bouncing high on his forehead. “Are you sure? Because that was—”

“No. I don’t. I mean, I’m sure he’s very nice. But that’s not why I can’t form sentences around him.”

He considered me for a moment, then scratched his jaw. “Okay. Enlighten me. Why do you lose motor function around Billy?”

“It’s not just Billy. It’s anyone my father approves of. I . . . I can’t help it. I get nervous, hoping to make a good impression, and end up speaking nonsense.”

“Your father approves of my brother Billy?”

I nodded once.

Cletus gave me a thoughtful frown and appeared to be confused. “You’re going to have to spell this out for me. I don’t understand. How do you mean your daddy approves of Billy?”

“I mean my father has identified a number of men in the area and, well,” I inhaled a magnitude of air, suddenly feeling out of breath, “he’s indicated to me that they’re appropriate, should they show interest. Men with whom I should try to . . . make . . . a good impression.”

My father had told me on more than one occasion how important it was for me to marry well. Growing up, he used to say things like,
You aren’t too bright, but luckily you’re pretty enough to catch a rich husband. Just keep your mouth shut and smile.
Being pretty and having a nice smile weren’t bad things, but I always found it difficult to reimagine my father’s insults as compliments.

Cletus was back to scrutinizing me; his eyes were clear, sharp and assessing. “Is that so?”

I nodded and rolled my lips between my teeth, feeling like a fool for some reason. My face grew hot beneath his gaze.

“This is fascinating.” He sounded truly fascinated. “Who else is on the list?”

I glanced over Cletus’s shoulder as I tried to recall the names my father had mentioned over the years. “Well, Billy comes up the most. That’s probably why I’m at my worst whenever he’s around. He also mentioned Hank Weller—”

“Hank Weller?” Cletus looked surprised, but not disapproving. “Well now, I guess he is good at fishing and has a fine head for business. Who else?”

“Um, Dr. Runous—”

“Drew?”

“Yes. But that was before he and your sister became involved. He hasn’t mentioned him in a while.”

“Anyone else?”

“Um, let’s see . . . Jackson James.”

“Jackson?” Cletus made a face, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “That ignoramus?”

I tried not to smile, but failed. Cletus looked positively aghast at the mere idea, affronted on my behalf.

“He’s not so bad,” I said, unable to help myself, wanting to see his reaction.

“Yes. Exactly. He’s not
so
bad. He’s just plain old
bad
. And he’s certainly not in the same stratosphere as Billy or Drew or even Hank. Your father has impaired judgment and can’t be trusted.” His gaze focused on some spot over my head, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it. I recognized that this meant he was deep in thought.

I took the opportunity to study his face, enjoying the view of him up close. Despite his attempts to mask his handsomeness with wild hair and a bushy beard, he was still remarkably attractive. Granted, he was also still dangerous. But I liked to think we’d formed something of an odd friendship. With that friendship came an equally odd affection.

It was true, I was beginning to feel affection for him. And I knew I was totally nuts—seeing as how I was blackmailing him, and I was still a little afraid of him, and he wasn’t acting out of the kindness of his heart—but there it was. Affection, plain and simple.

“I have an idea,” he announced, snapping the fingers of one hand. “And it’s brilliant.”

“Of course it is.” I grinned at him, enjoying my view even more now that his clever eyes were bright with excitement and pointed at me.

“Billy will take you on a date.”

I started, my grin immediately falling into a gaping frown of absolute horror. “Wait . . . what?”

“You and Billy. A date,” he said slowly and loudly, pronouncing every syllable, as though I was hard of hearing.

Unthinkingly, I smacked his arm and, leaning close, responded in a rushed whisper. “I heard you the first time, I’m not deaf.”

“Good. Just checking.”

“No. Not good. I’m not going on a date with Billy!”

Now he frowned. “Why not?”

“Because . . .” I waved my arms around to no purpose. “Didn’t you just witness that train wreck a minute ago?”

He nodded solemnly. “It was impossible to miss.”

A strangled sound escaped my throat. “How can you possibly think a date with Billy is a good idea?”

“Precisely because of how you reacted.” His tone was maddeningly rational and academic. “You want a husband, yes?”

“Yes,” I whispered, glancing behind Cletus unnecessarily to ensure we weren’t being overheard.

“And I’m guessing you want to marry someone your parents approve of, yes?”

I hesitated, then nodded tightly, realizing where he was going with this.

He was right. Of course he was right. If I could make it through a date with Billy, then I could make it through a date with anyone.

“I see your point,” I admitted miserably.

“Oh, now. Come on. Billy isn’t
so bad
.” Cletus nudged my shoulder, repeating my words from earlier.

I huffed an exasperated laugh. “Yeah. Not so bad. Except I think you’re forgetting one very important fact.”

“I never forget facts.” He shook his head quickly, both dismissing and teasing me. “Facts are my friends.”

“Oh yeah? You think so?”

“I know so. I send facts Christmas cards every year and they reciprocate with peppermint bark.”

“Well then, how about this fact: Billy will
never
ask
me
out on a date.”

And that was a fact.

Billy Winston was completely and irrevocably in love with Claire McClure. This information was not widely known, but I knew. I was a people watcher.

He’d been in love with her for
years.
Years upon years. They would watch each other, always casting cautious yet longing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It was both heartbreaking and frustrating to see two people so desperately in love guarding their hearts.

Therefore, I knew—
for a fact
—that Billy Winston would never, ever, not in a million years, ask me out on a date.

“Don't laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragic romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns.”

― Louisa May Alcott,
Little Women

~Jennifer~

When Billy Winston
asked me out on a date, it was terrible . . . and then it wasn’t.

Allow me to explain.

“Everyone, y’all know Jennifer, right?” Cletus ushered me into his family’s house, interrupting their conversations to introduce me.

I gave the room a tight smile and a little wave, unable to lift my gaze due to the pressure of twenty or so eyeballs moving over my person.

“I don’t.”

I glanced up, finding a tall, gorgeous woman with dark brown hair and smiling brown eyes standing from her place at the couch. I immediately recognized her as Sienna Diaz. I recognized her because she was a famous movie star and I’d seen all her movies. She was fantastic.

Sienna held her hand out to me and I stepped forward in a bit of a daze, not because she was a movie star, but because she had an aura about her, like a gravitational field with 4
th
of July sparklers.

“You know Jenn, Sienna. She’s the Banana Cake Queen,” I heard Beau explain.

My heart fell, but I salvaged my smile. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Oh. Yes. I know you by reputation.” She sounded delighted and gave my hand a little squeeze before releasing it. “I’ve had your amazing cake.”

“She’s not the Banana Cake Queen, Beau. She is Jennifer Sylvester and she likes to garden while wearing overalls,” Cletus reprimanded his brother. Then, before I could recover from his statement, he pushed me toward his sister. “Go talk to Ashley. She also likes to garden. Discuss.”

Ashley stood and gave Cletus a giant grin, then turned her attention to me, reaching for my hands. “Come over here and tell me all about your garden, Jenn.” Ashley tugged me forward and unceremoniously placed me on the couch next to her. “And then tell me if you canned any tomatoes this year. I have mine frozen in bags, but I’d like to do more canning.”

“Billy, come with me. We’ve got sad cake to cut and a butternut squash pie to sample.” Cletus motioned for Billy to follow, which I noticed Billy seemed to do with some reluctance.

With Cletus and Billy gone, the room fell quiet and I felt everybody’s eyes on me. I tucked my fingers under my thighs to keep from twisting them on my lap, and lifted my eyes to Ashley’s friendly expression.

“Well now, let’s see,” I swallowed, trying to ignore everyone and focus on Ashley’s question. “I did can tomatoes. But I used a pressure cooker this year for them and my other vegetables. I had some trouble last year with my beans, when I used just the pot.”

She patted my knee and turned to her other side. “See now, Drew. We need a pressure cooker.”

What? Drew? Oh no!

I lifted my eyes and, to my horror, found Drew Runous sitting on the other side of Ashley Winston. He was watching me with a wary expression.

And I knew why.

And I didn’t blame him. I’d be wary of me as well.

Mortification and panic had me jumping to my feet. I glanced around the room, searching for a way out and finding only a sea of eyeballs looking at me like I was an escaped mental patient.

“Jenn?” Ashley asked, concern in her voice as she gained her feet next to me. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Fine. Bathroom?” I asked tightly, keeping my gaze downcast.

“Um, just down the hall there. Second door on the left.”

I nodded once and bolted to the hall, my heart thundering between my ears. I walked to the end of the hallway, then realized I’d passed the bathroom door. But then I couldn’t remember which door Ashley had indicated—was it the second or the third? And was it the right or the left? This house was huge and the hallway had entirely too many doors.

I tried to quietly retrace my steps, testing the third door on my right and found it was a closet.

“Shoot,” I muttered under my breath.

My hands were sweaty, so I wiped them on my jeans and tried the next door. It was a study of some kind, or a library.

“Dammit.” I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall. This was the worst. I was the worst
. I never should have come here. I should’ve just—

“Jennifer? What are you doing?” Cletus’s question had me opening my eyes and straightening from the wall.

He stood in an open doorway, his hands on his hips, Billy hovering behind him and watching me with concern stitched on his forehead.

I glanced between the two men. “I’m looking for the bathroom.”

Cletus lifted an eyebrow at me, examining and dissecting me. “You don’t need to use the bathroom. You’re looking for an escape.”

I gathered a deep breath and the dam broke. “That’s right. I’m looking for an escape. Drew is out there. And—oh God—Cletus, I’m the worst. I’m so awkward, my awkward is embarrassed by my awkward.”

Peripherally, I noticed Billy step more completely into the hall, but I couldn’t stop talking, I needed to tell someone about my secret shame and Cletus was that person. I knew him better now. I knew he was weird and wouldn’t judge me. But also, he couldn’t turn me away. I was blackmailing him. He had to listen.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad—”

“It is. It was. You don’t know what I did,” I whispered on a rush. “Last year, in a misguided attempt to jump-start my search, I drove to the ranger station and gave Drew a banana cake. And then I kissed him.”

Both Billy and Cletus straightened, glanced at each other, then turned their eyes back to me.

“Actually, kiss might be the wrong word,” I lamented. “I had no idea what I was doing at the time, and clearly even less now. It was more of a-a-a lip collision.” I smashed my fingers together in a sloppy motion, wanting to demonstrate how truly uncomfortable and unfortunate of a kiss it had been.

Cletus rolled his lips between his teeth and stared at me. I didn’t realize at first, because I was lost to my humiliation, but Cletus was laughing. Nor did I realize Billy was also laughing.

I didn’t realize until Billy made an inadvertent sound in the back of his throat and covered his mouth with his hand. Then I looked at them. I looked at them both. Their eyes were watery and their shoulders were shaking.

I huffed a little laugh and shook my head. A new kind of embarrassment spread to my fingertips, the kind that accompanies being the butt of a joke. I knew this embarrassment well.

“I guess it is kind of funny,” I said, hoping I sounded good-natured and self-deprecating instead of brittle.

They both stopped laughing, and that made me feel even worse.

Tears burned in the back of my eyes, cinching my throat. I glanced down the hall, toward the front door, and bit my bottom lip. “I think—” I stopped, swallowed, then tried again. “I think I’m going to go now.”

I started forward, but found my way immediately blocked by both Billy and Cletus.

“Now, wait. Wait a minute.” Cletus held me by my upper arms, keeping me in place. “Just hold your horses.”

“Jennifer, please accept my apology. That was ungentlemanly. We shouldn’t have laughed.” This came from Billy, who hovered at my side. He lifted his hand like he wanted to place it on my shoulder, but instead pulled his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m very sorry.”

I glanced up at him and shrugged, a rigid smile on my face. “It’s no big deal, I’m used to it.”

I was used to it—being laughed at, being the butt of jokes—I didn’t know why I was acting so silly. It was no big deal. No. Big. Deal.

My words appeared to frustrate Billy because he frowned, his icy blue eyes warming as they moved over me. “You’re a nice kid. And you shouldn’t be
used to
people laughing at you. That’s not right.”

Cletus was holding very still, and was being uncharacteristically quiet, but his eyes were wide and watchful as they bounced between us.

I spoke without thinking, wanting to diffuse his guilt. “Oh, it’s fine. I’d rather make people laugh than make them cry.” Billy winced and I realized too late what I’d said: I’d made them laugh, and they’d made me cry.

“Ugh!” My face fell into my hands and now I was laughing. “I always say the wrong thing.”

“Maybe you just need practice,” Cletus said very carefully, his tone communicating that his words held more than one meaning.

I peered through my fingers and found Cletus and Billy looking at each other, something meaningful passing between them.

Billy sighed. Then he nodded. Then he turned his attention to me.

Cletus let go of my arms and took a step back, stuffing his fingers in his pockets. Billy, meanwhile, inserted himself in the space Cletus had just vacated.

“Maybe you just need practice,” Billy repeated Cletus’s words softly, his smile small and coaxing.

I studied him with bemusement, my hands falling from my face. I couldn’t think of anything to say, mostly because I didn’t understand what was happening. My gaze drifted to Cletus. He was leaning one shoulder against the wall and his eyes were studiously downcast, as though the hallway carpet was incredibly fascinating.

“Jenn,” Billy said, drawing my attention back to him and his earnest expression.

“Yes?”

“How about if I help you? I can help you practice.”

My mouth fell open and I’m sure my face communicated my alarm. “Why would you do that?” I asked before I could catch myself.

His smile widened and he looked at me like I was adorable.

Adorable.

Not a hot mess.

And that made my tender heart feel both more and less tender.

“Because you’re a nice person,” he said simply, shrugging and making me smile; but then he added with a glimmer of mischief behind his eyes, “And maybe, if you’re feeling generous, I’ll get a banana cake out of it.”

***

After having my
freak-show in the hallway, and reluctantly accepting Billy Winston’s offer of help, I assisted Billy and Cletus in the kitchen as they divided up the desserts. Under Cletus’s watchful eye, Billy and I traded cell phone numbers so we could make plans. Then the three of us carried slices of cake and pie out to their family.

Call it bravery or call it temporary insanity; whatever it was, I made a point to bring Ashley and Drew their pie and cake.

Drew accepted his warily—as he had every right to do—and Ashley accepted hers with a small, private smile. Then I sat myself down next to Ashley, looked at Drew straight on, and said, “Now, getting back to our discussion, there’s no need for you to procure a pressure cooker. You can borrow mine.”

Ashley’s smile grew. “Excellent idea. Don’t you think so, Drew?”

Drew’s silver eyes narrowed on me. I met his gaze, using mine to (hopefully) communicate repentance and make a plea to start over.

Still squinting, Drew finally said, “It’s not like we need a pressure cooker year round. If we used Jennifer’s then we could all do our canning together, make quicker work of it.”

Ashley turned her friendly smile back to me. “Fantastic. Let’s do that. When do you harvest your fall garden?”

The relief I felt was considerable, because I’d been avoiding Drew Runous for over a year. It would be nice, not having to run the other direction each time I caught sight of him.

All things considered, the rest of the evening was surprisingly nice. The Winston siblings, like their momma, were genuinely kind. And the people they chose as partners were also lovely. Duane and Jessica made a cute couple; Ashley and Drew fit perfectly together; and how Jethro fussed over Sienna warmed my heart.

The evening was surprisingly nice despite not typically enjoying large groups of people. In fact, I usually avoided groups as a rule. Being homeschooled probably had something to do with it. Not all homeschoolers are this way, but my momma didn’t see the need for me to socialize with kids my age. Now, in my twenties, group dynamics felt alien and intimidating.

But once I relaxed and just allowed myself to be, being a part of this group—the Winston group—was easy. They didn’t stare or expect me to perform. I didn’t have to say another word once Ashley and I finished our conversation about canning. An hour passed where I didn’t say anything at all. I just listened, and blended, and enjoyed myself.

“Let the record show, never say never to Cletus Winston.” Cletus nodded once at his assertion, a smugly satisfied smile on his features.

At present, Cletus was walking me to my car. I’d lost track of time and when I realized it was after 10:00 PM, I made my excuses. He jumped up from his seat and offered to see me out, and so here we were.

I glanced at him and rolled my eyes. “Fine. You were right. I’ll never say never to Cletus Winston.”

His smile widened briefly, but then he cleared his throat and wiped all humor from his features. “We have a lesson on Monday and you have new homework.”

“I do?”

Cletus opened the driver’s side door of my car. “You do. This week, and once a day for the next month, you are going to change one thing.”