Page 75 of Live for Me

Chapter Eighteen

Beau

Being in this house felt like I was being pulled under dark water.

It was different this time. When I was here earlier with Denver, I could still fight for my life, could still keep my headabove water and sneak in a breath or two. Now, with Abbie sitting in the living room, I could practically feel the chain around my ankles attached to the heavy boulder of love, ready to drag me into the depths. I didn’t stand a chance of coming back up for air.

I braced my hands on the counter top and dropped my head, my body aching from the last three days.

This was my own personal hell.

“Beau?”

Her sweet voice filled my ears, making me grind my teeth. “Yes?”

“Could I have my phone please?”

My head shot up, and I looked over my shoulder, finding her eyes on the other side of the couch. “Why do you need it? Ash said it would be a risk for you.”

Earlier this morning, Ash warned us Abbie using her phone could be a risk on the off chance that her stalker had been monitoring her location. She gave it to me just to be safe and hated doing so.

“Yeah, I know that,” she said softly. “But I need my hot spot for work and—”

“Work?” I cut her off, my brows coming together.

What the hell was she doing working?

I turned to face her, folding my arms over my chest. “What are you talking about?” I demanded when she didn’t answer my first question.

She tucked some of her hair behind her ear, the movement distracting me and bringing up memories. Good memories. Memories filled with so much happiness and pleasure, it had almost been too good to be true.

And in the end, it was.

“Well, a hot spot is like your own personal WiFi—”

“—I know what a damn hot spot is, Abbie,” I all but growled. I dropped my hands from the counter, leveling her with a cold glare. “Not a fuckin’ idiot.”

Her lips thinned. “Never said you were, Beau,” she replied, that sweet voice of hers even softer than before.

God fucking dammit.

We’d been in this house all of three hours, and I was fairly certain I’d left my sanity out in the fucking truck. I tried to ignore her presence, but the second her eyes landed on the cabin, a small gasp came from her, a gasp I’d hoped to hear years ago, when I’d gotten down on one knee. It was too much to bear, and when her eyes met mine underneath the pine trees outside, I nearly lost all control. It took everything in me not to grab her face, take her sweet mouth, and claim her against a tree. Then, she stepped inside the house meant to be our home, and I watched her take it all in, wondering if she was envisioning the same life I pictured for us.

Did she see the same beauty in it that I did?

Did she picture us on the couch?

Or laughing in the dining room?

Slow dancing in the kitchens on Sunday mornings?

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, clearing her throat and bringing me back to the present. I forced my gaze from her, focusing on the window above the kitchen sink. The sun was gone now, leaving nothing but darkness outside. This shit day had come and gone before either of us had time to process it, which meant there was no work to be done on the ranch, and if I were to go anywhere, everyone would know it was because of her presence.

I didn’t need anyone to waste any more time worrying about me because of her. The guilt on my shoulders was heavy enough already.

The shrill ring of my cellphone cut through the air, and I fished it out of my jeans, swearing softly under my breath at the name on the caller I.D.

“Marks,” I answered.

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