Hopeless (Chestnut Springs Book 5)
: Chapter 11

“Should we practice before we go in there?”

My hands freeze on the seat buckle, and I turn to stare at Beau.

The man who moved my trailer and helped me reorganize everything inside.

The man who stayed with me all night when I was scared, who walked through dirty water when I needed him. Who is way older, way more experienced. And who asked me if I was wet like we were just having a casual conversation.

The man who is my new fiancé and is about to introduce me to his family. His nice family who loves him and wants the best for him.

“Practice what?”

“Well, I don’t know. You’re looking at me like I terrify you.”

I scoff. “You don’t terrify me.”

“Why do you have that deer-in-the-headlights expression all the time, then? You could barely get through telling Gary. You gonna flinch when I touch you? Kiss you?”

“Why would you touch and kiss me at a family dinner?”

“Because we’re engaged?”

I shake my head rapidly. “No. Just tell them we’re not into PDA.”

Beau glares at me. “We’re going to have to convince them a little bit. This is going to blindside them.”

I’m about to reach for the door handle to get the hell out of here, away from the super soldier who is turning this into some sort of top-secret mission shit, but I stop in my tracks.

“Hang on a second.” I turn back to face his chiseled jaw and stupid face. “Have you not told them at all?”

His expression is impassive. “No. I decided it would be best to just rip the Band-Aid off. They’re less likely to give me the third degree if you’re there. Which is why we need to sell it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is your plan? How many years in the special forces … and this is your plan?”

He blows out a breath and leans his head against the rest behind him. “Listen, what I want out of this deal is for them to leave me alone. You can use me to get a job, and I can use you to get them off my back. Maybe we’re both wrong and this whole thing doesn’t make a difference at all. Just act natural.”

“This makes me nervous. How am I supposed to act natural?” Because while I’ve come to feel comfortable around Beau, that feeling doesn’t extend to big family get-togethers.

The man beside me goes from agitated to lighthearted as he reaches out and pulls my hand up to his mouth. He kisses my palm so naturally that I almost forget we’re faking this relationship.

“Don’t be nervous, sugar,” he murmurs against my skin, with a coy glance out of the corner of his eye. Because we both know abbreviating that nickname doesn’t make it any better. “We’ve already slept together. This should be a breeze.” He chuckles, and it vibrates through the bones in my hand. Lips and stubble brush against my skin, and I bite down on the shiver that racks my body, tugging my hand back and rubbing at it like I’ve been burned.

“Okay! Fine. Let’s go,” I reply brightly, hopping from the truck with a bounce in my step that’s not a match for the dread growing inside me.

I barely spare Beau a glance. He overwhelms me. Looking at him will do nothing to quell the way my heart is racing in my chest.

I can feel him beside me, strong and tall, hovering just at my shoulder like a bodyguard.

He links his fingers through mine and casually opens the front door.

The show begins.

When we walk onto the back porch, everyone freezes. Conversation comes to a screeching halt. Eyes volley between me and Beau, then drop and stall on our linked hands.

To say I know everyone here would be a stretch. I’ve served drinks to most of them, or I’ve heard about them in the roundabout way you do as a bartender in a small town.

That is to say, I’ve overheard gossip here and there.

Harvey Eaton, the family patriarch, breaks the silence as he relaxes in an Adirondack chair on the wooden deck, beer in hand. “Bailey Jansen, how lovely to see you.” He stands up to greet me. “Beau didn’t mention you were going to be joining us. But there are so few true surprises left in life, you know? This is a nice one.” He winks at me, eyes twinkling with mirth.

My cheeks flame and I drop my eyes to my sandals. The pale-yellow sundress seems ridiculous on me now, as though I’m trying to fool everyone into thinking I’m the type of girl Beau would bring home.

At least the flowy skirt is useful for hiding my left hand, since concealing a diamond the size of the one Beau put on my finger is no easy feat.

“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling like I could collapse in on myself under the weight of their stares.

Everyone is here. Rhett and Summer, Cade and Willa, Jasper and Sloane, Theo and Winter—even Sloane’s mom, whom I’ve heard some whispering about. There are babies in arms and a little boy kicking a soccer ball in the field out back.

I’m going to kill Beau for doing this to me later.

He leans in close to my ear, lips brushing against the shell, and whispers, “You look fucking beautiful.”

Then he straightens, all casual and carefree, like he didn’t incinerate me with one simple sentence. “Well, I’m glad you’re in the mood for surprises,” he announces. “Because I have another one for you.”

Beau glances around, gaze snagging on the single free seat they must have saved for him. In the blink of an eye, he’s folding his massive frame into the sturdy wooden chair … and taking me with him.

I am sitting on Beau Eaton’s lap at a family gathering, with everyone watching. I feel made of stone.

I’m supposed to be selling this, but I’m having a mental freak out. Sure, I spent the night curled up against him, but that didn’t feel like pretending.

This does.

My back stays ramrod straight, and fire licks up my chest as I make a show of arranging my skirt to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

Beau hasn’t let go of my hand, and then his left lands on my lower back. Right on the waistband of the boy shorts I’m wearing under this dress. His palm drags up my spine, the pressure just enough to distract me. Just enough to relax my posture.

His eyes fixate on me, the weight of his gaze like a heavy foot on my chest. He has no business giving me all this panty-melting focus with everyone watching.

His gaze is so heavy that I barely sense all the others.

When I squirm in his lap, his broad palm squeezes at my neck, more of a warning than a comfort. It forces me to stare at him. It forces my breathing to come out short and labored.

“Is the surprise that you two are going to eye fuck each other while we all watch?” Willa asks casually as her fiancé, Cade, scrubs a hand over his face and groans beside her.

A few other people chuckle, but it sounds to my ears more like nervous tittering.

And me? I officially want to die.

Beau chuckles, deep and raspy, but he doesn’t look away. “No. The surprise is that Bailey and I are getting married.”

You could hear a pin drop. I swear the birds stop chirping.

Beau’s magic fingers massage the back of my head as he releases my hand, wrapping his thick arm around my waist and tugging me tighter against his chest.

I feel like an awkward rag doll.

Being held by a Ken doll.

“Well, no one can say you don’t love to keep us on our toes,” Harvey ventures, sounding shocked, not angry, like I expected.

The only person I manage to peek up at is Summer. She’s married to Beau’s little brother, Rhett. She has always made an effort to be kind to me, even going as far as hiring me to bartend at her recent wedding.

“Well,” she slaps her thighs and pushes to stand, taking a few steps across the deck toward us. “Let me be the first to say congratulations to you both.” She holds her arms out for … a hug? “Welcome to the family, Bailey.” She shifts to peer around me at Beau. “Let her go. You’ve already peed on her. No one is gonna take her from you.”

Her brown eyes gleam, and her lips are upturned in a knowing smile. I can’t figure out why she’d be smiling like that at me. Can’t she tell this is fake?