Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

“What?”

Tucker shook his head. “Someone shit in your Wheaties?”

Beau scowled and said nothing.

Tucker glanced from Beau to Betty, who was suddenly quiet, her eyes on the floor and a light dusting of color in her cheeks.

“Okay,” Tucker said. “I’m going to grab a shower and then…hell, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He swung his gaze back to Beau. “We should probably discuss an exit strategy.”

“Exit strategy?” Beau repeated.

“Have you looked outside yet?”

Shit.

Beau’s scowl deepened as he crossed the room and looked out the window. Sure enough, he could see people milling about at the end of the driveway, but more disappointing was the gaggle of paparazzi. They’d grown by leaps and bounds over a few days ago.

His security detail kept vigil, but still, this wasn’t good.

“Jesus,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. It seemed as if his time in New Waterford was up.

“You guys are trending on twitter,” Tucker said, slapping him on the back as he tossed his coffee into the sink and leaned against the counter.

“Really.”

“Yep.” Tucker lowered his voice. “Mom’s called twice this morning.”

“Great.” Just what he needed. His mother on his ass over a woman. Eden Simon was a cultured, elegant throwback to an era long gone and she was about as different from Betty Jo Barker as salt was to pepper.

“It might be time for us to head back up north.”

Beau glanced at Tucker. He knew his brother was right—he’d overstayed his welcome. But the thought of leaving this place, of leaving Betty, didn’t sit too well. He swore as he looked back out at the crowd and turned around, eyes on Betty. She’d crawled onto the sofa and stared back at him in silence.

“Okay, I’m going to have that shower now,” Tucker said. “So you two can have some time to, ah…”

“Just go,” Beau said.

Tucker disappeared into the bedroom and Beau was left alone with Betty.

He took one last sip of coffee and set his cup onto the counter, his eyes never leaving her. She was pulling at some invisible thread, her mouth tight.

“So, we should talk,” Beau said quietly.

She nodded but didn’t look up.

Beau padded across the room and stopped an inch or so away from her. “Hey,” he said gently. “Are you okay?”

She nodded again.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“I’m waiting for you to put some clothes on.”

He grinned at that and glanced down at his naked torso. “This too much for you?”

She shrugged and glanced up at him. “You’re standing here in your underwear, Beau. That suggests an intimacy that we don’t have. An intimacy that we can’t have.”

Beau cocked his head to the side. “I hate to point this out, darlin’, but you’re wearing my T-Shirt.” He bent low until his mouth was near her ear. “And all I can think about right now is what the hell you’re wearing underneath it.”