Page 129 of Entangled

“I’m so sorry. I thought I was alone.”

Beau’s hand finds my face, his fingers firm and strong against my skin as he tilts my chin up. His woodland eyes are full of safe glens. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

My tears spill over.

“No, damn it. Not again!” I wail, swiping at them. Useless, miserable things they are. I glare up at his bewildered expression and pull my trembling chin free. The kindness in his face nearly sets me off again, and I point at him. “No! Don’t be nice to me.”

Beau eyes my tears, a bemused cant to his head. “Just talk to me, darlin’. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Why is his voice sosoothing? A raw, broken sob escapes, and I retreat toward the bathroom. “Stop it!”

Is he incapable of following simple instructions? Is this a dominant thing?

“I’m not doing anything. Hey.” He catches my arm and turns me around, then raises his hands at my tearful scowl. A worried crease appears between his brows. “Do you want me to make you some tea? Is it something else? Who do I need to beat up?”

Tea?!

I stare at him as my battered, broken heart swells.

“You aresuchan asshole,” I whisper. His eyes widen incredulously, and I storm into the bathroom and slam the door behind me. “Go away!”

Beautiful, considerate, wonderfuljerk.

The tears are running freely now, and I clumsily take off my glasses, my breaths coming in enormous, quaking gasps as I bend over the sink. I can’t make them stop.

No.Nomore crying, I glare at my rumpled, red-faced reflection. Stop it, Eden. You’re a rock. You’re a blade.

I’m safe at Bristlebrook—it’s ridiculous to crynow. And, God, crying aboutfeelingsof all things. I should know better than that. I never used to be a crier.

Why do these men seem to have direct access to my tear ducts?

Fat drops flood over my cheeks in defiance of my glare.

The door opens and closes behind me, and I spin to see Beau leaning against the door, one leg kicked over the other. He gives me a patient look.

“Darlin’, I don’t usually think of myself as a slow man, but you’re going to have to catch me up here. Is this about Jayk?”

Jayk.And Dom, Jasper, Lucky...

I bury my forehead in my hands as my heart rips, and another sound escapes me, like a wounded animal.

“For the love of God, Beau,stop,” I beg on a hitching sob. Is that snot coming out of my nose? Why is being sad so disgusting? “I can’t get this”—sniff, sob—“under control”—sob, wail, cry—“while you’re being nice.”

His pretty eyes roll up in exasperation. “You want me to bemeanto you?”

I wipe uselessly at my traitorous eyes again. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Beau scrubs a long-suffering hand over his too-tempting face, then he scowls. “Your hair is a mess and your breath smells like something died in your throat. Happy now?”

I stare at him.

“Why would yousaythat?” I keen, as a raw, hacking sob shakes my whole body.

Beau straightens off the door, looking nothing short of panicked. “No—no, no, no. I was just doing what you said!”

“I said be mean, notcruel.” I touch my hair, unable to stop the way my whole body is wracked with tears. My lip trembles. “What’s wrong with my hair? Dom said it was nice.”

“Itisnice. Eden— Don’t cry, darlin’. I— No, okay. That’s enough of this.”

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