“I thought you said you weren’t sleeping with anyone,” he bit out as Gemma wiped the blood off Bradley’s chin.
Zipping her head up, she pinned him with an angry glare. “You asked if I was sleeping with any of the Graysons. I’m not. I’m…I’m sleeping with him.”
Cursing under his breath, Beau bent and lifted Bradley into his arms. “Then you’d better go open the front door so I can put him in your bed.”
“But…but I wanted you in my bed tonight.”
“What you want and what you’re gonna get are two different things.”
Gemma glared at Bradley still passed out and bleeding in Beau’s arms. “Why did you have to come over and ruin everything?”
“You can ask him when he wakes up. Now if you’ll please open the front door, he’s a lot heavier than he looks.”
“Fine.”
With a mournful howl, she hurried to the house and opened the lock. Gemma directed him down the hall and to her bedroom, where Beau tossed his unconscious body on her pretty pink comforter.
Certain that Bradley would need to see the dentist, he arched a brow at Gemma. “You might want to take him to see Doc Hubbard in the morning.”
“I’ll take care of him.” She sighed sadly. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have—”
“Save your apology. Things happen for a reason. Fate might be telling you to stay out of the Hangover and spend your evenings watching movies with him.”
“God, I hope not. He’s boring as hell,” Gemma muttered as Bradley groaned.
Beau wanted to ask why she was with a man she didn’t want to spend time with but dismissed the question.
Not my circus. Not my monkey…thank god.
He had no desire to be around when the prick came to. Beau tipped his hat to Gemma, then turned and strode to his truck. Thankful the jealous idiot hadn’t pulled up close enough to block him in, Beau whipped his truck into the grass and backed out onto the street.
Cursing under his breath, Beau headed home. After parking near the barn, he stepped out into the inky darkness and peered at the house. Not wanting to go inside, he strolled to the cement bench beneath the big oak tree and sat down, then gazed at his mom’s headstone.
“I miss you so much. You were the only person on the planet who understood me. I hate being alone…hate that you’re not here. I’m tired of being on the road, Mom. I want to come home to stay, but…it’ll never work out. Dad’s growing more and more stubborn by the minute. We’d be at each other’s throats night and day. I…I’m not sure what to do or where to go anymore. I’d give anything to talk to you again, to have you here helping sort out all the shit that’s going on in my head.”
A gust of wind rattled the leaves, sending one spiraling down and landing on the headstone.
Though unshed tears burned his eyes, a melancholy smile tugged his lips as a bittersweet chuckle spilled from his lips. Beau wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt as his cell phone rang.
After tugging it from his pocket, he checked the ID, cleared his throat, and answered his agent’s call. “Hey, Phillip. What’s up?”
“You, hopefully. I got a rider up in Casper out with a broken leg. Bull stomped him. You interested in filling his spot?”
Beau knew he’d pretty much worn out his welcome at home. He had the chance to pack his bag, hit the road, and still save face.
It’s a triple win.
“Hell yeah,” he replied. “I can be there in a couple days.”
“Great. I’ll get your hotel suite booked, then text you with all the details. Thanks, man, you just saved my ass.”
You just saved mine, too.
“Happy to help out.”