CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When Sunday rocked around again, Bea found herself back at the ranch, taking more riding lessons with Austin on a short trail where Buffy ambled along companionably beside Austin’s horse, Star. He pointed out aspects of the ranch as they worked to a bit of a trot and the sun warmed her through. After they returned, she and Austin sat on the rail again and observed Jill working a horse from a nearby ranch.

  She was so absorbed that she didn’t even hear Austin’s mom approach until she was hauling herself up the fence and swinging her leg over the top rail. “I could watch her all day,” Margaret said.

  “Me too,” Bea agreed.

  Which was exactly what they did, at least until Jill finished her set and Margaret invited them up to the big house for some afternoon drinks.

  “Thanks for the offer, Mom,” Austin said, “but—”

  “Actually.” Bea gave Austin’s thigh a squeeze. “We’d love to, Margaret.”

  Sure, she wanted to get him back to his cabin and have him follow through on his offer to massage liniment into her thigh and ass muscles to counteract the soreness he promised her she’d feel tomorrow. But she was curious now to meet the rest of Austin’s family.

  His mother beamed at her, and Austin returned her thigh squeeze with one of his own. He smiled at his mom. “We’d love to.”

  Margaret grinned at her son. “Good answer.” Then she performed a nimble half turn, swinging her legs to the other side of the rail. “Come on up when you’re done here,” she said, then scrambled down, landing with a little jump.

  “You don’t have to,” Austin murmured as his mom made a beeline for the house.

  Bea rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt warmed from the sun. “It’s okay. I want to.”

  “More than you want me to rub you down?”

  She grinned at the dirty, dirty emphasis he’d used. “You can do that later.”

  “You’ll be sorer later.”

  “Well, you’ll have to be gentle with me, then, won’t you?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I can give it to you however you like.”

  Oh yes. Yes, he could. “We’ll make it a quick drink.”

  …

  There was a magnificent view from the back porch and, despite herself, Bea felt the tug—the urge—to recreate it and the magnificent simplicity of the stone-and-wood house. To immortalize it in pastels as the sun sunk low in the sky and cast long shadows over the land. She ignored it, throwing herself into the lively ebb and flow of Cooper family conversation, instead, and the enjoyment of Margaret’s spiked iced tea.

  There were the inevitable questions directed her way, but, as if they knew to take a light hand, they didn’t probe too deeply, which left ample opportunity for her to ask a zillion questions about the ranch and the Cooper family and Credence.

  “So…you create greeting cards?” Brian Cooper clarified eventually as the conversation turned back to her.

  He was a handsome man in that weather-beaten-rancher kind of way. The kind who sold tractors and Levi’s. With his quick, easy smile and his low, rumbly laugh, Bea could see exactly what Austin would look like as he aged.

  Which was not a bad thing.

  Bea nodded. “That’s right.”

  After toying with the decision for a few days, she’d spoken to Kim on Wednesday and accepted her offer. Her brain had been exploding with ideas for Greet Cute and, like that dart in the board, she’d taken it as a sign.

  “I didn’t even know that was a job. I assumed that sort of stuff was all done on computer these days.”

  “It is,” she confirmed. “But it still requires design people. Some do it from scratch on a computer, using a bunch of different design tools and software packages. More bespoke companies like Greet Cute tend to use original artwork and convert that into a graphic.”

  “I see.” He nodded.

  “And can you do that from home?” Margaret asked.

  “Yes. They’ve hired me as a freelance designer. All I need is a laptop and access to the internet.”

  “And do you have some kind of brief as to what they’re after?” Brian asked.

  “Beatrice created her own line, Dad,” Austin said. “It’s called Cranky Bea.” Glancing at her, Austin said, “Show them the logo.”

  Bea dutifully found the logo on her phone and handed it over. Kim had been super thrilled with the image of the irate little bee and had suggested they call their new line of sarcastic cards Cranky Bea—with an a not two e’s—and that it be placed on the back, underneath the Greet Cute logo. She and Kim had gone back and forth on the font and placement of the two words until they’d come up with the design currently being passed around the Cooper family.

  “Looks like that’ll cause quite a buzz,” Brian said with a grin.

  Bea laughed, remembering Austin’s grumblings about his father’s penchant for puns. But many years in advertising had made her queen bee of wordplay and puns. “It’ll keep me buzzy.”

  He nodded gravely. “And on your best bee-havior.”

  “I’ll have to take my vitamin bee, for sure.”

  “I can loan you my Bee Gees albums if you need some creative stimulus?”

  Bea pretended to consider the offer while her brain scrambled for a snappy rejoinder. “I’m more a Bee-yoncé kinda gal.”

  Brian shook his head in faux disappointment. “Now you’re just pollen my leg.”

  Clay, who, along with the others, had been following their rapid-fire banter as if watching a grand slam tennis final, groaned out loud. He fixed Austin with a what-the-fuck look. “There are two of them?”

  Austin chuckled, clearly unperturbed. “That’s my honey,” he confirmed.

  Jill slid her palm onto Clay’s knee. “I think your brother has been bee-witched.”

  Clay gaped. “You too?”

  “Nah, son, that’s not the question.” Brain paused for dramatic effect. “To bee, or not to bee, that’s the question.”

  He really cracked up then, and Bea joined him because it was a truly magnificent addition to the pun fest. She’d never had this. This easy affection, this contentment in company, this feeling of family. And she loved it.

  “Oh God.” Clay rolled his eyes before appealing to his mother. “Can’t you make him stop?”

  Margaret shook her head. “You know your father, Clay. Best to just let it bee.” Her straight face lasted for about two seconds before she dissolved into laughter, which caused another round of hilarity. Even Clay, who’d clearly decided if he couldn’t beat them, he might as well join them, cracked a wry smile.

  And Bea’s heart was fuller than it had ever been. She could definitely get used to this.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Austin smiled as Beatrice’s laughter drifted across Jack’s to where he was seated at the stools. Since she’d said yes to Kim a month ago, Beatrice spent her days creating magic for Cranky Bea and her nights with him creating a different kind of magic. Except for Sundays. They spent Sundays at the ranch with his family.

  And on Wednesdays, she line danced.

  He was in the corner closest to the small dance floor, where there were currently about a dozen people following the line-dancing instructor. Pearl was in her sixties with high hair and low expectations.

  He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Beatrice since she’d walked into Jack’s tonight. He’d had to work back and had arranged to meet her here, and it was just as well, because if she’d been wearing that at the apartment, there was no way they’d have made it to Jack’s.

  It was a dress. A bright yellow dress. Big Bird yellow. A stark contrast to the vibrant red of her hair. And it was strapless with two ties that sprouted from the fabric at a point between her breasts, which she’d pulled up and crossed at her nape to anchor around her neck before being brought through to the front and crisscrossing under her breasts, and then winding around and around the bodice several more times, before they’d been tied at her waist at the back, their ends almost trailing to the floor.

  It was made from some kind of slippery fabric that draped lovingly against her body and disguised the fullness of the skirt. But when she spun around, the skirt flared out like a spinning top, flashing glimpses of bare thighs and those sexy red cowgirl boots she’d bought online especially for this class.

  It was a far cry from sweats and bunny slippers.

  But the thing that made the dress shine and made every person in the class with her—all of them at least thirty years her senior—smile indulgently and nod was that she knew, maybe for the first time, that she looked hot. It was in the way she swished around and put a little extra roll in her hips, and the way she flicked her hair and exaggerated the snappy little foot movements as she performed each heel dig.

  And then there was the way she kept sneaking glances at him as she went through the routines. A side glance over her shoulder, a peek from under the cover of her rich red hair as it swished around her face. The way she smiled all playful and secretive, her lips shining with a clear gloss that he knew tasted like bubble gum. She was bristling with sexual energy, and he felt its force all the way across the bar.

  Someone whistled quietly beside him, sitting on the stool next to his. “That’s some kind of dress.”

  Austin glanced to the side—Drew.

  “Yup,” Tucker agreed, also joining them, leaning his elbows on the bar, watching the dancers as they popped and locked it to Hoedown Throwdown. “Should be illegal in all fifty states.”

  “How’d you get so lucky, Junior?” Arlo added as he, too, joined the fray.

  Austin should probably be affronted at the way these guys were appreciating Beatrice. But he was just exceedingly fucking pleased that Beatrice had stumbled across him first.

  “Must be the uniform,” Drew offered.

  Arlo shot his friend a scowl. “I wear a uniform.”

  Tucker snorted. “Yeah, but you also wear yours to bed. Women do not dig that shit. Clearly, given how long it’s been since you’ve seen any action.”

  Drew nodded. “I bet your underwear even has police officer stamped across the ass.”

  Arlo flipped them both the bird. “Bite me.”

  “Face it, man.” Tucker shook his head, trying to control a smile as he attempted seriousness. “You have no idea how to turn that crap off.”

  “I know how not to be a cop,” he protested. “I can relax and…unwind.”

  Drew and Tucker laughed like Arlo’s statement was the most hysterical thing they’d ever heard. Austin joined them, and Arlo pierced him with a look he’d come to know well. A look that said he’d be doing paperwork tomorrow. “You don’t think I can, Junior?”

  Well, crap. Austin’s smile died. “I think you…” Austin chose his words carefully. “Take your role and responsibility in the community very seriously.” He nodded, happy with his response. Then he added, “Chief,” for good measure.

  Tucker and Drew cracked up a little more. “Man, you are such a suck-up,” Drew said when he’d drawn enough breath to form a coherent word.

  Which was true, but no way was he going with the real answer. Which was Arlo made RoboCop look like a bumbling British bobby. But Credence need never worry while Arlo was at the helm, which was exactly what the town demanded of him and, when Arlo finally hung up his handcuffs, would hopefully demand of Austin. In the meantime, there was a lot he could learn from his boss about being a small-town cop.

  Arlo clapped him on the back and announced, “This kid is going far.”

  Austin’s hackles suddenly rose as he shrugged away Arlo’s hand. He wasn’t a goddamn kid. He might not be near forty like the other three guys, but he wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears virgin, either. He’d grown up on a ranch where he’d fenced what felt like halfway around the planet, had delivered calves in the dead of night while a blizzard howled around him, and put down dying animals with a bullet.

  He’d trained as a cop, where he’d seen tragedy and miracles in equal measure. He’d seen the helplessness of poverty and the excesses of wealth and witnessed the depravity and the humanity of both. He’d arrested people and he’d dug holes looking for missing people and he’d held people who had collapsed during the dreaded death knock.

  Hell, he’d delivered a goddamn baby.

  “I’m not a kid,” he growled, glowering at his boss and the other two. “I’m not Junior. My name is Austin or Deputy.”

  The music cut out, and Austin glanced over at the dance floor to see Beatrice hugging her golden oldies—as she called them—goodbye. The elderly folks were beaming at her, obviously still infected by that special kind of energy she was pumping out.

  “Gotta go, bye.”

  He didn’t wait for a response to his previous statement or his farewell, just ambled across the bar and met Beatrice halfway. She went straight into his arms and up onto her tippy toes, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him in front of everyone.

  There was clapping and good-natured whistles and calls to get a room, but Austin was oblivious. He only had eyes for Beatrice in her yellow dress, red boots, and her bubblegum lips.

  “I hear my apartment calling,” she whispered as she finally broke the kiss.

  Austin’s whole body thrummed with the desire to get her out of that dress. But she was sparkling tonight, her eyes dancing, her body brimming with a vibrant sexuality. She was like a sunbeam, and hiding her away seemed criminal. She deserved to shine in all her glory, and he couldn’t help but think she belonged in nature right now.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured. “C’mon.” And he took her by the hand and led her outside.

  …

  Twenty minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot at the lake. At seven thirty, the harsh sunlight of the day was softening into rose golds and would soon be pink and purple.

  “It’s so pretty out here,” Beatrice said on a sigh as she looked out over the lake, which was also changing color from blue to slate.

  Soon it would turn silvery, and Austin couldn’t wait to see the siren yellow of her dress and the red of her hair streaking along in the twilight. “You want to go for a walk?”

  “You trying to get me alone, Officer?”

  Austin grinned. He hadn’t planned on there being anyone out here at this time on a Wednesday evening, but given that the days had turned suddenly warm and were getting longer and longer, he shouldn’t be surprised. There were several groups on the grassy areas leading to the lake. They mostly seemed to be packing up now, but Austin didn’t want to wait to be alone.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He made sure he added a little dirty to the ma’am because he knew how much it turned her on.

  “Ya know, we could have already been on round two by now.”

  Maybe, but tonight, the lake seemed like the perfect destination for the force of nature that was Beatrice.

  “You ever heard of delayed gratification?”

  She shot him an impatient look. “Only a twenty-five-year-old would think that was a good idea.”

  It was the first time she’d mentioned their age difference in a while, and with his irritation at the guys from the bar still fresh, it picked at the scab a little more.

  “Humor me,” he said as he reached across her to open the glove box and grab the flashlight for when it got darker.

  Hand in hand, they walked along the shoreline, away from the jetty and the few remaining people, following the arc of the narrow, rocky beach. To their right, a wide stretch of long grass delineated the beach from the woods that stood farther back. Tiny purple wildflowers that had sprung among the grass waved in a light breeze as dainty as the trunks of the nearby towering pines were solid.

  As they wandered, the grassy area started to narrow until it disappeared altogether, and the tree line thinned out as it merged with the shoreline. The road was visible through the woods in places, and the headlights of cars heading back to town poked through the trunks.

  They talked about inane things as they wandered. And all the time, the lake lapped against the shore and the last beams of sunshine faded from the sky and the pinks and purples fused to a dusky kind of mauve, which deepened and darkened, giving way to night and the first pinprick of stars overhead.

  It felt as if they were the only people in the world and, as a lone bird cry rang around the lake, Austin flicked on the flashlight.

  Suddenly the beach widened and became sandy. Patches like this were few and far between, which made them popular, as evidenced by the well-worn track through the woods to their right.

  Austin drew them to a stop, and Beatrice turned. “That is some dress, Beatriss.”

  “What? This old thing?” she demurred, a smile on her mouth as she let go of his hand and performed a little twirl. “You like?”

  “Oh yeah.” He shone the flashlight straight at her, pointing it at her feet and slowly raising it, his eyes devouring every inch of her body. “You still a rule breaker, Beatriss?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Town statute four three eight subsection fifteen,” he said, plucking numbers out of thin air.

  “Which would be?”

  Austin reached for his belt and undid it, pulling it through the loops and tossing it on the ground. “Public nudity.” He reached for the button on his pants next and undid it as he kicked out of a boot. “I seem to remember skinny-dipping was something you wanted to try?”

  He kicked out of his other boot as the suggestion floated between them. Her rule breaking seemed to have gone by the wayside this past month as she’d settled into her work routine for Greet Cute.

  Was she still interested?

  For a moment, he thought she might decline and he was going to have to go all WWDD on her ass, but then she smiled. “Is that why you brought me out here, Officer Cooper?”