Page 101 of Live for Me

After dinner, Beau asked me if I wanted to go into the sunroom and take a look at the canvases he’d brought over.

The sunroom wasn’t really a sunroom, not with the trees all surrounding us. It was built with that intention, but the second I saw it after mustering up the courage to take a peek two days ago, I knew it would’ve been my studio. There was one painting of mine that I wouldn't let Beau see and it was currently in the other bedroom, hidden underneath the bed. This cabin was meant to be our home, and now? Now, after the conversation Beau I had during dinner, I didn’t know what it was going to be. Everything was so complicated and messy and—

“Wildflower.”

I blinked, and slowly, everything came back into focus. Beau’s features had softened, understanding creasing his brow, and his eyes shined with what I could only describe as love. “Yes?”

“Need you to stay here, right here with me, when you’re talking like that,” he murmured. “Okay?”

I nodded, looking out the window, keeping my eyes on the moon as I continued. “I just…Beau, after you left me at Denver and Valerie’s, the only thing holding me together was that Valerie was in the next room. She’s a stranger to me and I couldn’t let her see me crumble like that. I asked for her phone so I could call my boss, and everything happened so quickly. For the first time in days, I had a purpose. I could be something—mean something to this world.”

He waited, but God, he waited.

When my eyes met his again, I asked the question that had been burning in my mind for the last four hours. “Did you kill those two developers?”

“They weren’t developers. They were investors,” he corrected, and I held my breath as he shifted his weight so he could bring a hand to my face, his finger trailing down the side of it. “The first one assaulted a fifteen-year-old girl. Chase filed the report and came out to Hallow Ranch the next night.”

“Chase?”

He nodded, his eyes scanning every inch of my face now, as if trying to memorize it. “He’s the sheriff now, Abbie. When he knows the justice system will fail, he calls us.”

I said nothing for a few long moments, remembering the night I was attacked at the rodeo.

“I didn’t kill him,” Beau whispered, his hand falling away. Then, he was gone, on his back once more, staring up at the ceiling with a hand tucked behind his head. “Hell, I didn’t kill either of them.”

“What happened to the second?”

His jaw jumped exactly eleven times before he answered. “He tried to rape Valerie.”

My hand went to my mouth, but it wasn’t quick enough to stop my gasp. Beau’s neck twisted, those blue eyes on fire now. “Denver rushed into town. Pop saw her at the bar that evening with that fucker bothering her. Pop, being Pop, he knew he wouldn’t be able to protect her. So he raced back here and told Denver. I was right behind him.” Beau sighed, looking back up to the ceiling again. “Denver put three bullets in him, just like the first, and I respected him for that.” He paused. “Because I would’ve dragged it out if either of those fucking bastards touched you.”

“So…you haven’t killed anyone since…” I trailed off, letting him figure out the rest.

“Told you, I didn’t kill those two, Abbie. Never said there wasn’t any more.” He looked over to me. “Told you—I’m a different man now.”

I shook my head. “No, Beau, I don’t think you are,” I argued, my voice timid. I sat up on my elbow, my fingers playing the edge of the sheet, and I dropped my eyes, focusing on that. “I think that man has always been inside you. Deep down.”

“That scare you?” he asked.

“Not if you’re only killing men like that,” I answered.

“As much as I’m pleased to hear that, I need you to say it again. This time, look me in the eyes,” he suggested, and I felt him move.

I found his face mere inches from mine when I looked back up, the heat of his eyes surrounding me again. “You don’t scare me as long as you’re killing monsters like that.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I scared you, Abbie. Every time I see fear in these gorgeous brown eyes of yours, a piece of me dies.”

“You can’t control—”

“I may have been a boy when I promised to protect you for the rest of my life, but I never intended on breaking it, no matter how much time passed,” he cut me off. “The second Mags came to the bunkhouse in the middle of the night, I knew—fuck, Wildflower, I knew deep in my soul that you were in danger.”

My heart skipped a beat. “The second I saw you standing on my porch in the rain, I wanted to jump into your arms and apologize for all the pain I caused you,” I crocked.

His forehead met mine. “I need you to let it go,” he urged, his hand cupping the back of my neck now. “I need you to let go of that guilt, Abbie. It’s only going to weigh you down.”

I jerked back. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

That jaw jumped again, and then, I was underneath him—again. “Listen to me now. I need you to hear me and let my words sink into that stubborn brain of yours,” he commanded, leaning down to put his forehead back against mine. “I forgive you.”

---