Beard Science (Winston Brothers Book 3) (40 page)

“I hope so.”

I shifted in my seat and switched on the blinker, pulling into her driveway. “Uh, by the way, I meant to tell you earlier at Daisy’s, I had a discussion with Repo and Catfish about Isaac.”

“Who are Repo and Catfish?”

“Two big deals in the Iron Wraiths.”

“You did?”

“Yes. The Wraiths aren’t looking for retribution for what happened last Friday. Not anymore. So that’s resolved.”

“That’s good.” She sounded relieved and I was pleased to remove any lingering concern about the episode from her mind.

“You said you wanted to know when or if I took action on your behalf, so I need to tell you something else.”

Her hand came to my knee, warm and comforting. “Oh? What did you do?”

“I requested Isaac pay you a visit, apologize for being hateful, and make an attempt to mend fences.” My eyes flickered to hers as I parked in front of Claire’s—now Jennifer’s—house.

She was staring in my direction, but I doubted she was really looking at me.

“If Isaac wanted to know me, Cletus, then he would have come to me before now.”

Her tangible grief made me want to beat the crap out of Isaac Sylvester. Again.

“Maybe,” I said, “maybe not. Maybe he’s lost and needs the love of a good woman to help guide him out of his foolish decisions.”

She cracked a smile, teasing, “You mean like you and me?”

“Exactly.” I covered her hand on my knee and slid it higher.

Lips parting in surprise, Jenn’s eyebrows jumped and she grinned, visibly delighted.

“Let’s go inside.” Her voice was husky. I liked it.

“Sounds like an excellent idea.” I bolted from the driver’s seat, the sound of her laughter chasing me, and jogged around the hood to her door.

I helped Jenn from the car, stepped forward, and swept her into my arms.

“Cletus.” She both scowled and smiled at me, shaking her head and winding an arm around my neck. “My feet are fine.”

Jennifer’s feet had mostly healed, but I still planned to use them as an excuse to carry her everywhere, whenever possible. Holding her in my arms was one of my favorite states of being.

“I don’t want to take any chances. Get your keys out.”

She pulled her keys from her purse and rested her head against my shoulder as I climbed the stairs.

“This certainly was an interesting evening.”

I nodded my agreement, but said, “It isn’t over yet.” I bent slightly so she could unlock the deadbolts.

Door unlocked, we crossed the threshold; I shut the door with my foot and she flipped the locks, kicking off her shoes.

“Where to now?” I asked, turning left, then right. “To the kitchen? Or to the living room?”

“I think I’d like to lay down.” Jenn snuggled closer, wrapping both arms around my neck and placing a kiss on my neck. “How about the bedroom?”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

I carried her up the stairs and to her room, flicking on the light. She sighed, placing more kisses on my neck, one of her hands moving to the buttons of my shirt and undoing the first three. She was wearing a blue dress that looked like a long sweater, except it wasn’t baggy. It hugged her curves just right and had been driving me crazy all night.

“This dress,” I said, placing her gently on her feet in front of her bed, “it wants to come off.”

“Does it?” She grinned up at me, continuing her work on the buttons of my shirt.

“It does.” I frowned at the material, not certain how to proceed because I hadn’t spotted a zipper.

She placed a kiss on my collarbone, pushing off my jacket and encouraging it to fall to the floor. Then she tugged at my undershirt.

“Cletus, I miss your touch,” she whispered, pressing her body to me and brushing her lips against mine. “Won’t you touch me?”

I nodded, entranced as usual by this woman. I slid my hands under her skirt, relishing the silky skin of her thighs. Jennifer lifted her arms and I took the hint, removing the dress as one would remove a sweater, pushing it over her head.

This left Jenn standing before me in her bra and underwear, a sublimely luscious temptation.

Before explicitly telling my brain to do so, I’d unhooked her bra and bent to savor her breasts, filling my hand with one and my mouth with the other. I kneaded and massaged her flawless skin, tugging and twisting her nipple. She moaned and her breath hitched, the sounds driving me mad. Jenn slid her fingers into my hair, pressing on the back of my head, arching to get closer.

We were alone. In her home. And I wanted her. Very badly.

My lungs burned and my veins throbbed with how badly I wanted her, this woman. My woman.

Times like these, it was difficult not to take advantage. Times like these, my baser instincts fought to seize control, pushing me to tease her, leverage the advantage of my experience until she begged me to ease and fill her ache.

I wanted every inch of her perfect body. As my control slipped, I convinced myself I needed it. I needed her, to possess her, to claim her. The need gripped and suffocated me . . .

“I love you,” she whispered as her hands slipped under my shirt. She smoothed her palm from my chest to my stomach, curling her fingers into the waistband of my pants.

Her words, her confession of love, sobered me. I stilled my movements, waiting for the frenzy of recklessness to recede.

Her home was not yet my home. She wasn’t ready. Not yet.

I may have wanted to possess her, but I didn’t need it. I needed to love her, not possess her. And she needed my love, not my trickery. Not my control.

So I breathed out. I did not possess her. I did not push her.

Instead, I eased her back to the bed, drawing the only remaining scrap of fabric down her legs, leaving her naked and vulnerable and stunning and shivering.

Lifting my greedy stare from her body—this body I coveted with raw desperation—I met her extraordinary eyes. On the floor before her I knelt, spreading her legs, and witnessed the beauty of her trust.

And then I loved her.

“Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.”

― André Malraux

~Cletus~

It was a beautiful
ceremony.

Jethro, unsurprisingly, wasn’t nervous. My oldest brother wasn’t the nervous type. But he did choke up when Sienna walked down the aisle.

Heck, I think we all did.

She appeared at the edge of the wildflower field, gussied up in a white cloud of a dress, looking like an angel. Sienna was beautiful, made even more so by the way she looked at my brother.

She took three steps toward the altar and my eyes cut to Jenn.

My Jenn.

My Jenn wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at Sienna with a big, happy smile on her face, so she didn’t see me as I stared at her, and imagined our wedding day. I imagined the moment she would appear, gussied up in a white cloud of a dress, looking like an angel.

Or maybe we would elope, just the two of us. Maybe to Alaska, where we’d have a private ceremony under a surprising sky.

Honestly, I didn’t care.

Virtuous fortitude,
I reminded myself.
Patience.
The reminders made me grumpy, so I focused on the beautiful ceremony and my brother’s happiness.

After the
I dos
were over, the festivities started. I sought Jennifer as soon as the wedding party arrived at the reception site.

A large tent had been erected at the back of the property with a huge dance floor, covering a giant area both inside and outside the temporary structure. Traditional Mexican dishes and traditional Tennessee home cooking were side by side on the buffet, with vegan options also available for those lunatics that didn’t eat meat.

The good news was I found Jenn almost immediately. The bad news was she was talking to Jackson James.

My grumpiness returned and intensified.

I plotted an intercept course but was stopped by a hand on my elbow. Irritable, I turned, prepared to shake off this usurper’s fingers.

But it was Claire.

So I didn’t.

Instead, I returned her smile.

“Claire McClure, we meet again.”

Her grin widened and she laughed, pulling me into a hug. “Hello, Cletus. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m perfectly adequate.” I leaned away and captured her hand, tucking it in the crook of my elbow. “Will you stay and dance with me?”

“Only if you sing a song with me.”

I shook my head. “I guess we’re not dancing then.”

Her mouth pressed into a frustrated line. “Come on, come sing with me. You deserved that recording contract just as much as I did, and yet you insisted on playing second fiddle.”

“That’s because second fiddle gets all the Banana Cake Queens.”

“Good.” She nodded once, ardently. “I was planning on harassing you about her today, but I’m glad you finally came to your senses. You two are perfect for each other.”

“We are, aren’t we?” My eyes automatically sought Jennifer and I frowned. Jackson James had said something to make her laugh.

Itchy britches.

But then I caught myself smiling as my attention snagged on her mouth. I’d take her smile in any form, for any reason, even if Jackson had been the one to put it on her face.

“So there’s nothing I can say to convince you to sing with me?” Claire pressed.

“No.” I gathered a deep breath, turning to Claire and removing her hand from my arm, but keeping our fingers hooked together. “I aspire to different achievements than worldly success, and I know you do as well. But, Claire, I’m glad you finally saw reason and accepted the record deal. Your star is too bright to hide in plain sight.”

“You just rhymed, Cletus. I might have to steal that for a song.”

“Go ahead. I ain’t using it for anything profitable.”

Claire’s eyes moved over my features as though I were precious to her. I guess I was, in a way. I suspected we all were, even Billy.

As though reading my mind, her smile waned and her eyes fell from my face to my bow tie. She removed her fingers from mine and straightened my tie, smoothing her hands down my lapels, then lifting to her tiptoes to place a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you for believing in me, Cletus. I’ll pay you back one of these days.”

I nodded, considering—studying her—then took a chance and suggested gently, “If you want to pay me back, go ask Billy to sing with you.”

A flash of pain burned bright behind her eyes and her smile dropped, falling into an anxious frown. She shook her head, saying softly, “He doesn’t want to sing with me.”

Her denial had me huffing a laugh. “Oh, Claire. He
only
wants to sing with you. No one else. Never anyone else. Just you.”

My words did nothing to ease the anxiety in her expression. In fact, it seemed to heighten it. Her eyes darted away, searching, and she pasted a forced smile over her features.

“I think Jennifer is looking for you.” Claire pointed to my right and I followed her gaze.

Sure enough, Jennifer was looking at us and grinning. She waved at Claire happily, then her gorgeous eyes moved to me. Her smile grew.

“Tell her I said hi.”

I felt Claire squeeze my arm, but when I turned back to my friend I was met with the sight of her back, walking away. I scowled at her, at her wrong-headedness. I didn’t understand her.

Stubborn woman.

Clearly she was in love with my brother.

But there was nothing I could do about her. At least, not yet. Maybe later.

I turned my attention back to Jenn and Jackson, and continued my original course, meandering with purpose toward my woman.

“Jackson,” I said as I pulled even with them, ensuring my voice was as flat as the tires of his car.

They aren’t flat yet, but they will be.

He turned his smiling brown eyes to me and they dimmed as I wrapped my arm around Jenn’s waist and pressed a kiss to her neck.

“Hey,” I said, ignoring him.

She smiled up at me, wrapping her arm around my waist as well. “Hey.”

“How are you?”

Her smile grew and her eyes lowered to my lips. “I missed you.”

She missed me.

Life is good.

I mirrored her smile, about to suggest we sneak off, but then Jackson cleared his throat.

“Hello, Cletus,” he said, drawing our attention back to his irritating face. I’d ignored him so well I’d forgotten he was still there.

“That was a nice ceremony,” he offered benignly. 

“It was,” I admitted, still flat.

He scratched his neck. I followed the movement with my eyes while Jennifer gave me a sharp squeeze.

My grumpiness flared because I knew what that squeeze meant. She wanted me to
talk
to Jackson James, that’s what the squeeze meant.

Oh good Lord.

“I’m going to grab a drink and let you two
talk
,” she said meaningfully, pulling out of my grip while issuing me a big, encouraging smile. “Do you want anything?”

I mouthed the word
you
and she narrowed her eyes, shaking her head subtly and glancing at Jackson. Again, with meaning.

“I’ll grab you both a beer,” she said. “Stay here.”

Jenn left, drawing my eyes to her departing form as she walked away. I followed her movements until she disappeared in the throng.

And then I turned my attention back to Jackson and I frowned at him. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking out over the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces of the wedding guests.

“I don’t know most of these people, but I think I recognize a few,” he said, apropos of nothing, as though we were on friendly chitchatting terms.

My frown deepened and I was ready to rebuff his familiarity, but then I thought of Jennifer and how she’d asked me to give peace a chance.

Dammit.

Straightening my spine, I crossed my arms, and also scanned the crowd. “That’s because lots of these folks are movie stars, friends of Sienna’s and such.”

He nodded absentmindedly, his attention snagging on a tall brunette. “I’m not going to point, but I think that’s Raquel Ezra.”

He was right. The tall brunette was Raquel Ezra; she was the latest Hollywood bombshell. I glanced away, instinctively finding myself searching for Jenn again. I found her loitering by the bar, glaring at me, with her hands on her hips.

Her message was clear.

I rolled my eyes.

Resigned, I turned to Jackson. “Here’s the deal, Jack.”

His eyes cut to mine and I saw either my tone or my words had surprised him.

Ready to put this farce behind me, I launched into my complaint. “I don’t like you pulling me over for no reason, wasting my time. And I don’t like you pulling over my brothers either. And I don’t like the way you treated my sister in high school, but I guess nothing can be done about that now. So, moving forward, you need to stop abusing your power and start acting more like your father.”

He peered at me, turning his face slightly to one side. “More like my father?”

“Yes. More like the sheriff. You know. Like a badass officer of righteousness and awesome.” I nodded once, considering the description, then added, “And humility. He’s good at the humility, too.”

Unexpectedly, the side of Jackson’s mouth hitched and his eyes—instead of dimming and growing sullen, as I’d expected—warmed with respect.

“Fine. I’ll stop pulling you over and wasting your time.”

I squinted at him, at this Jackson James person who did not behave as expected. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“And what about my brothers?”

“Duane is leaving with Jess this week, so I won’t be pulling him over anymore.” He shrugged. “But I do maintain it was my prerogative to harass Duane as I saw fit, since he is dating my sister.”

I considered his logic, but before I could decide if I agreed with it, he continued.

“But since Duane is leaving, there’s no reason to pull over Beau,” he added thoughtfully, his attention moving back to the movie star Raquel Ezra. He lifted his chin in her direction. “What do you think my chances are there?”

I glared at him, suspicious of his easy acquiescence. Then I glared at Ms. Ezra, automatically sizing up the situation.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I’d overheard Sienna tell Jessica that Ms. Ezra was extremely open with her sexuality and was notorious for her proclivities involving handcuffs and sex toys. I decided not to share this information with Jackson. “She doesn’t appear to have a date, so you’ve got that in your favor.”

He stared at the woman, then—again, apropos of nothing—said, “You’re a lucky man, Cletus. Jennifer is a beautiful woman.”

I nodded my agreement, but said, “You’re right and you’re wrong.”

Jackson’s eyes searched mine. “How so?”

“Well, you’re right. Jennifer is a beautiful woman. But you’re wrong, because that’s not why I’m lucky.”

His eyebrows jumped, clearly not expecting my response, and I clapped my hand on his shoulder, giving him a small shake.

“Good talk, Jack.”

“It’s Jackson,” he corrected, stepping out of my grip but giving me an amused smile.

“We’ll see,” I said, then turned, walking straight for Raquel Ezra, debating the perplexing events of the last few minutes.

I didn’t trust Jackson much, but he’d seemed sincere. And if he was sincere, then Jenn had been right. And if Jenn was right . . . well then, that just proved how amazing she was.

“Excuse me,” I said, tapping Ms. Ezra on the arm.

The woman flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder. Her gaze made a quick perusal of my form and features, then finally lifted to mine.

“Yes?” she asked, a smile curving her painted lips; she stepped closer.

I retuned her smile. “I’m Cletus Winston, Jethro’s brother. Sienna has spoken of you with great esteem.”

“Sienna is the best.” Raquel said, with feeling.

I turned, pointing to Jackson James. “My friend over there is a police officer, local law enforcement.”

Her attention moved to Jackson and I saw his eyes widen, bouncing between Ms. Ezra and me.

She conducted the same swift once-over of Jackson that she’d employed on me. “Oh? Is he?”

“He is. And he’s got handcuffs with him.” I gave her an even smile. “Just FYI.”

Her lips twisted to the side and her brown eyes danced with laughter. “Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem. Have a nice evening.” I administered a short bow and turned for the table where I’d spotted Jennifer last.

I was determined to kiss her. We hadn’t kissed properly since the night before. Then maybe we’d dance. And then maybe I’d whisk her away and tell her she was right. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of telling her she was right.