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I hesitate before saying anything, taking in the scene in front of me. There’s a half-diced tomato on a cutting board along with a couple bottles of dressing scattered around the countertop that I assume Mac had been using for entertainment before I walked in.

I feel like I should help or something, even though that isn’t part of the plan. In fact, it’d be pretty damn counterproductive if I lent her a helping hand. I should keep as much distance between us as possible. Both physically and emotionally.

“I, uh… I should probably give you and Mac some privacy. I know you’ve both had a long day. In fact, I just remembered that I left something at the coffee shop. I’m going to go pick it up and grab a quick bite to eat, then I’ll be back. Sound good?”

Her face falls slightly, and I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been paying attention, but it’s Mac’s reaction that hits like a wrecking ball.

“Sit. By. Me,” she states with authority while crawling over the counter and reaching for me to pick her up. Her actions seem to turn me into a marble statue, gluing my feet in place and making me second guess what I should do.

Shit.

She pulls out the big guns by peeking up at me through her thick, dark lashes and sticking her bottom lip out for good measure.

“Hold you,” Mac reaches up with her chubby little arms, begging me to pick her up.

I look over to Beau, who watches the interaction with a guarded expression. I don’t think she knows what to do about Mac, either. When she notices me assessing her, she snaps out of her stupor and walks around the counter.

“Sorry, sweet pea. Noah needs to go pick somethin’ up, but we’ll see him later, all right?” Beau steps between Mac and me, nudging me out of the way before picking her up. Mac doesn’t put up much of a fight because I’m still practically a stranger, and wraps her arms around Beau’s neck, squeezing tightly.

“Awww… that’s my baby girl. Now let’s walk Noah to the door, then we’ll start eatin’, all right, sweet pea?”

Mac nods enthusiastically before they lead the way to the front door. Grabbing my duffle bag, I follow after them. When Beau sees my shit, she shifts Mac to her hip and reaches for my luggage.

“Here. Since you’re a guest and all, I’d be happy to take it to your room. I’ll leave the key on the entry table, too. Sound all right? No need to knock,” she reminds me. “Just come on in. We’ll be here.” She smiles warmly at me, looking damn near edible in her red apron and matching red lips.

She has no idea the effect she has.

I shake my head, trying to keep my head on straight. “You don’t need to do that. I can handle my own luggage. Thanks, though. I’ll be back in a bit. Enjoy your dinner. It smells great.” I’m rambling. What the hell? Pretty sure I haven’t rambled since I was in middle school. I gotta get out of here. Maybe Shane can talk some sense into me.

Her cheeks heat as she nibbles on her lower lip. “Thanks. Drive safely, now.”

I nod, basking in her concern, though I have no idea why. “I will. See ya, Mac.”

She waves her chubby little hands at me with that same contagious smile plastered on her face. Beau turns to Mac and says, “Can you say, ‘Bye, Noah’?”

“Bye. No-ah,” she repeats in her sweet little voice.

I grin in return. “Bye, Mac. I’ll see ya later.”

And with that, I turn on my heel, escaping to the confines of my truck before the guilt eats me alive and I apologize for being such a selfish bastard.

Chapter Seven

Beau

I ain’t an idiot. Somethin’ spooked Noah last night. I dunno if it was my invitation or Mac’s forwardness, but it really don’t matter, anyway. He still hasn’t made an appearance.

There are five bedrooms up top with a small suite for Mac and me to share. She still sleeps in her crib tucked in the walk-in closet. I know I need to upgrade her to a room one of these days, but I ain’t ready for that step. She’s patient as can be, so I don’t think it bothers her.

I'm lyin' in bed when I start to hear a hushed voice outside my window by the front door.

I can only assume it's my recent tenant who disappeared on me earlier. I know it'd be wrong to eavesdrop on him, but my ears perk up anyway, as if they have a mind of their own.

My breathin' is shallow and my restless legs stop wigglin' as I listen in, suddenly feelin' particularly grateful that I left my bedroom window open.

Hallelujah.

“Wait. You said Beau’s a chick, right?” an unfamiliar voice asks through the phone. By some miracle, I can piece together what he’s sayin’.

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