“Shit,” she said hoarsely.
Mick was on the ground, cursing like a trucker, his nose obviously broke.
“What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll sue your ass.”
He tried to stand but Beau smashed his fist into Mick’s face again. Betty started to run over, but Matt grabbed her just in time, holding her close and whispering fiercely into her ear.
“Let him, Betty. Just let him have at it.”
Beau grabbed Mick’s shirt and smacked him once more, his face set in stone, the look in his eyes dangerous.
He dropped him and stood over him, chest heaving as he wiped blood from his hands. “If you come within 100 feet of her again, I will make sure that you end up in the hospital. If she even smells you, you’re done.” He leaned down. “And if you so much as think about her, I’ll hurt you. You got that?”
Beau turned around and headed for her, his eyes on no one but Betty.
In that moment, she knew that he knew what h
ad happened to her.
He grabbed her close and hugged her, kissing the top of her head.
“Thanks,” Matt said roughly. “Thanks for doing what I didn’t have enough strength to do because I knew I would have killed him and she needed me. She needed someone.”
Betty spied Logan and Shane along with her sisters and the few dozen partiers gathered around. It was too much.
“Can we go?” she said into Beau’s neck.
“Damn right we can.”
Beau grabbed her hand and they marched through the crowd, not stopping until they were inside his black SUV.
She was shaking and he helped her with the seatbelt and then slid behind the wheel. The motor roared to life but for a moment, he stared straight ahead, his chest still heaving, his hands so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white.
“How did you know?” she asked carefully.
Beau reached over, his hand on her neck, his thumb running over the three tears inked into her skin. Three tears that were there to make her remember, to make her stronger. “Does it matter?” He turned to her and the love that sat in his eyes took her breath away.
“No,” she replied. It didn’t matter at all.
They’d been together for weeks and every single day, there was something about this man that called to her. Some new facet that told her he was the one. There would never be another man for her.
Betty Jo Barker could live to be three hundred years old and Beau Simon would always be the love of her life. She thought that maybe it was time he knew it.
Carefully she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“What are you doing?”
And moved toward him.
“Betty, let’s just get out of here.”
“In a minute.”
“Careful, I’ve got blood on my clothes.”
She was pressed into him. “I don’t care.”
Betty slipped her hands into his hair and pulled him to her. She kissed the corner of his mouth and then brushed a feather light kiss across him lips.