Beard Science (Winston Brothers Book 3) (27 page)

A flashlight moved through the trees, its beam passing over the car. But then it continued to move. They—whoever they were—hadn’t spotted us yet.

Then, Cletus’s phone rang.

He had it set to silent, so it buzzed and flashed. He lunged for it as though to reject the call, but then he stopped short, his frowning face illuminated by the small screen. His eyes lifted to the windshield, to the searching flashlight, then back to the phone.

He swiped his thumb across the touchscreen and brought the phone to his ear, whispering, “Hello?”

“Cletus It’s Jess. Where are you?”

I heard her voice in stereo, both dimly through the phone as well as distantly from outside the car.

He breathed out, switching the phone to his other ear.

“We see your flashlight. We’re not quite to the cabin, still on the side road.”

“We?” Her voice was still audible, and she made no attempt to lower it. The flashlight stilled, then moved in a slow, horizontal arc. “Who is with you?”

“We’ll come to you. Don’t move.” He removed the phone from his ear and ended the call, the screen fading to black.

“Cletus,” I fumbled for his hand, “I have to tell you something.”

The hand I searched for cupped my jaw just before he covered my mouth with a sweet, devastating kiss. His lips were amorous and cherishing; the slow slide of his tongue made me dizzy and breathless. I was reminded of drinking champagne two weeks ago at the talent show. Cletus left me fuzzy-headed and warm, wanting more.

Pressing our foreheads together, he said, “If you could just keep your thoughts to yourself for five minutes, I’d really appreciate it.”

“What? Why?” I asked automatically, covering his hand with mine.

“Give me five minutes to live the fantasy.”

I tried to see him, but it was too dark. His words sounded like a riddle and flooded my mind with questions.

Was I a fantasy? Or were we? Did that mean he wanted me? Or that we could
only
be together in a fantasy situation?

I cursed the dark, needing to see him to know better what he was thinking. My stomach fluttered with nerves, because—if we only had five minutes left in the fantasy—I wanted to kiss him again.

Before I could, I was blinded by the sudden beam of a flashlight shining directly into the car. I recoiled back and shielded my eyes, squinting at the shape hovering outside Cletus’s window.

“Dammit, Jess. I said we’d be right there.” Cletus released me and tugged his jacket out from behind him.

“What happened to your shirt, Cletus? And who is that with you? Are y’all making out? Did I interrupt?” The laughter in Jessica’s voice helped to ease my mortification.

Her light shone directly on him, dimly illuminating his body in high relief, and my gaze dropped to his naked torso. I felt my eyes widen, marking my surprise but also my appreciation.

I couldn’t help myself. I stared at him.

I don’t know what I thought he would look like without a shirt on, but the reality of his bare chest, arms, and abdomen affected me like another glass of champagne. He was . . . well, he was beautiful. I wanted to touch him again, and this time I wanted to do it in a well-lit room.

And I want him to lie perfectly still while I kiss and lick and touch and bite and do whatever I want to his gorgeous body.

“What’s wrong?”

The irritated edge to his words yanked me back to the present and I blinked at him, startled.

“Nothing is wrong,” I said too quickly.

Jess tapped impatiently on the glass of his window. “Come on, Cletus. Put the condom down and let me meet your lady friend.”

His gaze flickered to mine, then away, his expression grumpy but otherwise unreadable. “You’re going to pay for that, Jess.”

She laughed, the flashlight swinging away from the window. Actually, she cackled.

Cletus zipped his jacket to his neck and moved as though to exit. Remembering that I had on the wrong top, I reached for his hand.

“Wait. I’m wearing your shirt.”

“I know,” Cletus said, not looking me as he popped open the driver’s side door. “I wanted to see what you’d look like wearing it.”

***

“So . . .” Jessica was
beaming. Her big brown eyes bounced between Cletus and me. “Good to see you, Jennifer,” she gushed. Again.

She’d brought us to her cabin—or Duane’s cabin, I didn’t quite know—and Cletus sat on one of the chairs adjacent to a small table. She asked us to remove our shoes, so we did, placing my heels and Cletus’s boots by the front door.

I sat on the second chair, the table between us, and tried not to twist my fingers while I stared at the dichotomy of our shoes: my high heels and his muddy work boots. For some reason the image of them together sent a thrill through me.

Meanwhile, Jess was sitting on the bed. The cabin was one room and quite small. Just the aforementioned table, two chairs, a bed, and a fireplace. It was cozy and meant for two. I liked it.

“Thank you. And thank you for your help.” I returned her big smile.

“Has Duane called?” Cletus—who wore his red and black-checkered jacket zipped over his bare chest—glanced at his phone. “He should have called by now.”

“He texted me before I left to find you. He made it to the station.”

Cletus nodded once, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jacket. “Good. That’s good.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Why were those bikers chasing you?” Jessica’s gaze bounced between us.

“They were upset I switched their tampons with Depends.” Cletus sounded so serious and reasonable, I almost believed him. And I’d been there.

“Cletus.” I shook my head and wrinkled my nose at him, then turned to Jessica. “My brother was there and he—” I swallowed, the words catching in my throat, so I cleared it. “He was being unpleasant. Cletus appeared and things escalated.”

“I punched him in the face,” he explained, his tone pragmatic like he’d just admitted to clipping his toenails. “Also, Tina says hi.”

Jessica’s mouth dropped open and her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “You punched Isaac?”

“I did.” Cletus nodded. “In the face. And Tina says hi.”

“Cletus, I don’t care about Tina,” Jess sputtered for a moment, blinking and frowning. Her gaze moved to me and softened with concern. “I guess Isaac must’ve been saying some real ugly things?”

“He did.” Cletus’s jaw ticked, his eyes narrowing just briefly. “But he won’t be saying much of anything for a bit. I think I broke his jaw.”

“Oh my God.” Jess covered her mouth and addressed her next question to me. “Are you okay? That couldn’t have been easy to see.”

“I’m okay. Just a little,”
emotionally exhausted,
“tired.”

She gave me a sympathetic nod and sighed. “Well, if y’all want to stay here, feel free.” Jessica stood and reached for her coat on the end of the bed. “The sheets are clean and there’s plenty of firewood.”

Heat crawled up my neck. My cheeks flared at her words. I couldn’t decide if her assumption—that Cletus and I were sleeping together—inspired embarrassment or pleasure. Either way, I felt hot, oddly delighted, and agitated.

Cletus stood and I stood in unison. Jess turned to us with a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay and I’m glad you called Duane.” She gave him a tight hug. “Sorry for giving you a hard time.”

“You’re not sorry.” He lifted an eyebrow at her as she pulled away.

“You’re right. I’m not.” Jessica shrugged, grinning.

“Hmm. Well, regardless, thanks for letting me borrow Duane’s driving skills.”

“You know he loves to help.” Jessica turned to me. “I’m sorry about your brother saying nasty things, but I’m glad Cletus was there to break his jaw.”

A small burst of laughter tumbled from my lips. I didn’t know how to feel about Isaac or his broken jaw. The things he’d said . . .

Her eyes moved over me, then she
tsked
and gathered me into a snug hug. “Let me know when y’all are ready for Big Todd’s. Duane and I don’t mind going back, whenever.”

My expression was both a smile of gratefulness and a frown of confusion as she pulled away. “What’s Big Todd’s?”

Her gaze jumped to Cletus then to mine, her eyes wider than before and her voice an octave higher. “Uh, it’s a shop. And, when you’re ready to go, just give me a call. Cletus has my number.” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder and walked backward to the door. “I have to get out of here now, before I’m late for the thing.”

With that Jessica turned and fled, shutting the door firmly behind her, and leaving us alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

. . . yep.

After a full minute, I slid my eyes to the side and up to his profile. He was staring at the door with a thoughtful frown, and his gaze appeared to be unfocused. My attention dropped to his neck, where his jacket met his bare skin. I licked my lips. Now I knew what his skin tasted like.

The evening had been a turbulent ride of emotion and crazy. I was tired, but I was also wired. And sad, because of Isaac. And elated, because of what had happened in the car with Cletus. But then, sad again, because . . . what did it mean?

I thought about the words he’d said to Billy at the restaurant in Nashville, while everyone was pretending not to listen.
If it’s an empty, physical attraction, then there was no point in persuing a relationship with the person.
Paired with his comment in the car moments ago, about living in the fantasy, my heart hurt at the possibility that Cletus didn’t much like me.

He liked the way I looked, the thrilling grope-fest moments ago had made that fact abundantly clear; but how he felt—or didn’t feel—about me as a person remained a mystery.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. His words at the Piggly Wiggly were still on my mind, but I hadn’t had the time to process them.
Do you honestly think God would make a creature as lovely and talented and good as your sister, and then make the way she looks something sinful? Something to be ashamed of? No. He wouldn’t. If anything, your sister—her face, her body, her mind, and her heart—give glory to Him. And she shouldn’t be hidden. You don’t hide something that remarkable away from the world, like your parents have done, like you want to do. That’s the true sin.

Yet even though he’d said those lovely words in my defense, I wasn’t what he wanted. He’d made that abundantly clear.

Instinct and experience had me preparing my heart for rejection. But then a flare of anger surged and sent a spike of determination down my spine. I straightened, standing as tall as I could, and crossed my arms. I angled my chin, resolve chasing my fear away. I wasn’t going to twist myself into knots, try to be something I wasn’t. I wasn’t crying over him or anyone else.

I am who I am. I am who I’m becoming.

“I’d like to go home now,” I announced to the room.

Cletus flinched just slightly, as though I’d startled him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then turned to me. He didn’t touch me, just moved his eyes over my face as though it might’ve changed in the last hour.

“Jennifer,” he started, stopped, pressed his lips together, frowned, swallowed, then began again. “We need to talk.”

“Fine. Talk.”

He gathered a large breath and adopted his thoughtful frown, it was the face he used when delivering bad news. “Here are the facts: you and I aren’t suited, but I—”

“Fine. I’d like to go home now.” I lifted my chin higher, calm detachment permeating every syllable. My heart hardened further, growing cold in my chest. If he didn’t like me for who I was, then . . .
he can keep his bull, because the cow just died.

“Wait. I’m not finished.”

“I don’t care.”

“Hear me out.” His frowned deepened, looking more genuine, and his hand rose to my arm as though to hold me in place.

I shook off his fingers and took a step back. “No, I will not hear you out. I will not stand here and listen to you tell me that we were just practicing, or that we’re not suited, or that you don’t feel for me what I so clearly feel for you. So save the shit for your garden and drive me home.”

Something sharpened behind his eyes as they narrowed on me, and he gained the step I’d placed between us. “What do you feel for me?”

“None-none of your business,” I stammered, the look in his eye unnerving, “Now either you take me home, or back to my car, or—”

“I hypothesize that you’re in love with me.”

My mouth fell open. “Pardon?”

“You’re in love with me.” He nodded, like I’d said the words.

I stared at his handsome face, gawking. My mind now completely devoid of thought because he’d chased it away with his hypothesis.

“I’ll take your silence as an implicit agreement.” Cletus’s voice lowered an octave and he gained another step forward, his eyes on my lips.

“You-you-you will do no such thing.” I backed away. “I’m not in love with you.”

. . . am I?

I shook my head, scrunching my face with frustration. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to be having this conversation.