The Vincent Boys (The Vincent Boys #1)(10)
Author: Abbi Glines

Chapter 9

Everyone in the town somehow managed to pack themselves into the church in order to pay their respects to my Grana. I hadn’t been able to talk myself into going up and looking at her lying there all still and pale. They wouldn’t have done her make-up right. She was a make-up expert and always had herself fixed up pretty. I’d liked knowing I had the prettiest seventy-year-old Grana in the world. When Mom and Dad hadn’t wanted me to start wearing make-up yet, even after my begging and pleading with them, Grana spirited me off to stay the weekend with her so she could teach me the technique of ‘putting your face on’ as she called it.

Another tear trickled down my cheek and I reached up to catch it with the Kleenex someone had handed me earlier. So many times I’d stood on the third row with Grana while Dad preached. We’d write notes back and forth until Mom would cut her eyes over at us with a sharp warning glare. It always made us giggle. Grana would act like we were putting the paper away. In reality she’d just get sneakier. Grana was a lot like Beau in the fact she embraced the bad girl inside me. Thinking of Beau caused another lump to form in my throat. I was starting to depend on him so much. Sawyer would be home soon and everything would change.

Thinking about how I’d let my own selfish desires come in between Beau and Sawyer made the guilt in my stomach thicken. Beau made everything feel better. I craved him. And without question he gave in to me. He said he loved me. He wasn’t supposed to love me. I couldn’t come between Sawyer and Beau. Ending this was the only way to keep from hurting everyone.

“Hey.” Beau’s deep voice startled me and I lifted my head to find him standing in front of me. I hadn’t expected him to come tonight. Besides the fact he never stepped foot in the church except on Easter Sunday and Christmas Eve, I figured he would spend his night free of me with friends . . . or Nicole.

“Hi,” I replied in a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t expect you to . . .” I stopped myself from saying more.

He raised both blonde eyebrows then tilted his head slightly to the left as he frowned at me. I noticed his short blonde hair that normally had the messy sexy look was neatly brushed. My eyes drifted down over his broad shoulders and chest, taking in the pale blue button-up dress shirt I was positive he’d never worn until tonight. The shirt was tucked into a pair of tan slacks I’d also never seen him wear. When I lifted my eyes back up to meet his I smiled for the first time in hours, enjoying his obvious discomfort.

“You dressed up,” I said quietly, not wanting to attract attention to us. He shrugged and glanced around as if seeing how many more people noticed his attempt at cleaning up. When his eyes settled back on me he leaned closer.

“Have you gone up to see her?” His soft whisper caused tears to spring back into my eyes. I shook my head and took a deep breath to keep from breaking down and hurling myself into his arms for comfort in front of the whole town. His warm hand covered mine and he stepped closer to me as he laced our fingers through together. Confused, I quickly glanced around the church this time to see who was watching us.

“Come on, Ash. You’ll regret not going to see her one last time. You need to do this for closure. Trust me.” There was a sadness in his eyes as he stared down at me pleadingly. “I didn’t go see my dad. I regret that. Even to this day.”

His admission caused the ache in my chest to throb harder, not just for me and my loss but for the little boy who had lost so much. Somehow he needed me to do this. I let him gently pull me up the aisle toward the open casket holding the woman I’d always depended on to be there no matter what. We’d talked about my wedding and how she would fix my hair and make-up. We’d planned the colors of the bridesmaid dresses and the bouquets of flowers she would arrange. We’d talked about her making the christening gown for my children to wear the day they were dedicated in this church. So many plans were made. So many dreams were cast sitting on her front porch drinking sweet tea and eating sugar cookies.

The casket was a lovely marble white with pink lining. She would have loved it. She loved pink. The massive spray of white and pink roses that lay over the bottom half of the casket would have delighted her. Those rose bushes she babied and cooed over every spring and summer had been one of her life’s joys. I wanted to thank everyone who had sent her the large flower bouquets lining the church walls, especially the ones with roses.

A warm trickle fell from my chin and splashed against my hand. I reached up with my free hand and wiped at my face, but it was pointless. Tears were streaming down my cheeks now. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

“I won’t leave you but you need to go on up and say your goodbyes. I’ll stand right here behind you,” Beau whispered from beside me.

Since I’d walked into those familiar double doors tonight I’d had a tight knot in my chest, making it hard to breathe deeply. Now, as I stood here getting ready to say goodbye to the woman I loved so dearly, a peace settled over me. I released the tight grip I had on Beau’s hand and stepped forward.

She was smiling. I was glad she was smiling. She smiled a lot. They’d used her make-up. I’d know that color of ripe raspberry lipstick anywhere. The smell of roses was thick, reminding me even more of the afternoons we’d sat outside her house talking.

“They dressed you in your favorite dress,” I whispered as I stared down at her still body. “And they used your make-up. Although you do a better job putting it on. The eye shadow is a little too dark. Whoever put it on apparently doesn’t know about the less is more rule.”

It was odd talking to her like this. She would have chuckled at the make-up comment. We’d have concocted a scheme to give the morgue beauticians or whoever put make-up on the recently deceased a lesson in the art of ‘putting on your face’. The corners of my mouth lifted.

“Remember when we talked about how we hoped we got to hang around earth long enough to be at our own funerals? Well, in case you convinced God of this idea and you’re here somewhere listening,” I paused and swallowed the sob threatening to escape, “if you’re here . . . I love you. I miss you. I’m going to think of you every day, and all those plans we had, I’m going to keep them. Just promise you’ll be there. Promise you’ll convince the big guy to let you come back down to visit.”

This time a sob made it past my lips. I covered my mouth and dropped my head as the memories washed over me. Knowing this was the last time I’d ever see her again tore through my chest. A comforting arm wrapped around me and pulled me up against his hard chest. Beau didn’t say anything to comfort me. He just let me get this last goodbye out the only way I knew how. When the tears subsided and the ache in my chest seemed to ease I lifted my head to stare up at him.

“I’m a firm believer God doesn’t snatch you right up and haul you off to heaven. I think he lets you say your goodbyes. And your Grana wouldn’t have gone anywhere until she got this goodbye in.” I let out a small laugh and nodded. He was right of course. Even God couldn’t have moved her if she wasn’t ready.

“Bye, Grana,” I whispered one last time.

“You ready?” Beau asked, lacing his fingers through mine.

I turned and walked back down the aisle while nodding and speaking to others who were making their way to pay their condolences. Beau stood quietly and patiently beside me. I noticed several people flick their gaze curiously up at the town’s black sheep stationed beside me. This would be all over town before the night was over. Somehow that didn’t matter right now. Beau had been my friend since he’d pulled my hair on the playground and I in return grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. After the preschool teacher corrected us both and threatened to call our parents Beau had looked over at me and asked, “Want to sit by me and my cousin at lunch?”

They could all talk. Beau had come to my rescue when I needed it the most. He might not be the perfect citizen but Grana always said perfect was boring. She would love that I’d snubbed my nose at the gossiping betties at her funeral. I glanced back over my shoulder, smiling. She was here somewhere and I could almost hear her laughter as I walked out of the church holding Beau’s hand.

Beau

“I don’t know that they will ever recover from that,” I said as I held open my truck door and helped Ashton inside.

“What?” she asked, frowning down at me.

Did she really not know what I was referring to or was she trying to act like it was no big deal? Because it was a big deal. My showing up tonight was a step I’d taken knowing Sawyer would find out about it. I hadn’t cared about the repercussions. I just couldn’t stand the idea of Ashton having no one but people who had no idea what she was going through or feeling surround her. She had needed me.

“They’ll talk, Ash,” I said carefully, waiting to see if she’d just been so broken over her Grana that she hadn’t thought about the statement we had made walking out of the church together.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So. That’s what they do, Beau. They talk. They’ll get over it.”

Damn if I didn’t want to crawl in and press her back against the worn leather seats and kiss her until we were both begging for more. But even I didn’t do it in the church parking lot. Closing the truck door I made my way around the front of the truck and climbed inside.

I didn’t ask if she wanted to go home. I was taking her to my place instead. Mom was working tonight and I wanted Ash in my room. I wanted to see her in my space. Know what that felt like. Smell her close even after she’s gone.

Ashton scooted over until she was up against my side. “Where we going?”

“Does it matter?” I asked instead of answering her.

She let out a small, sad sigh. “No. Not really. Just so I’m with you.”

My chest thumped against my chest and the possessive beast inside me roared with pleasure. She was mine, dammit. I had to fix this. I couldn’t give her back to Sawyer.

“I want to see you in my room. I want my pillows to smell like you. I want to have the image of you laying back on my bed imprinted in my memory.”

Ashton tilted her head back to look up at me. I glanced down at her big green eyes before looking back at the road. “When did you get all sweet and charming?”

Since I’d been buried deep inside the only girl I’d ever loved. I didn’t tell her that though. She wasn’t ready for me to repeat my feelings again. She’d frozen up on me the last time I’d told her how I felt. “Don’t tell me you are just now figuring out how charming I am?”

She snickered and pressed her mouth against my arm to keep from laughing louder. I loved hearing her laugh. Especially after seeing her fall apart and listening to her weep earlier. That had torn me apart. I didn’t want her sad. I didn’t want her to have to feel any pain. I just wanted to protect her from everything. I knew it sounded ridiculous but I couldn’t help the way I felt.

Pulling my truck in between the oak trees that led into the trailer park where I’d lived my entire life, I leaned down and kissed the top of Ashton’s head. This was the way it should have been all along. Ashton beside me. It was meant to be this way.

“So what are we going to do in your room?” Ashton asked.

I opened the door and slipped my hand over her thigh and pulled her to me as I moved to get out.

“Monopoly?” I replied with a smirk.

Ashton put her hands on my shoulders and I pulled her against me and lowered her to the ground. “I stink at Monopoly. You know that.”

She sucked at Monopoly was more like it. Sawyer always let her beat him when we’d played as kids. Not me. I always took every dollar she had. Ashton didn’t like things to be easy. She liked the challenge. I recognized that even back then.

“Yeah, you do,” I agreed and put my hand on the small of her back, directing her to the front door. “We could play strip poker.”

Ashton laughed and shook her head. “You always beat me at that too. Well, poker at least. I’ll be nak*d in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, you sold me. We’re playing strip poker,” I interrupted.

“If you want me nak*d you don’t have to beat me at cards,” she replied teasingly.

Hell, yeah. That was my girl. “Deal. Strip,” I demanded as I closed the door behind us.

Ashton threw her head back and laughed. The sadness lurking in her eyes was gone now. That’s what I’d wanted to accomplish. Well, I wanted her nak*d too, but it hadn’t been my top priority. That came in second.

“Can I have a drink first?” Ashton asked, running a hand up my chest.

“I guess if that’s what you really want,” I replied, lowering my mouth to drop kisses along her jawline before nuzzling the soft skin behind her ear.

Ashton’s hands slipped behind my neck and she arched against me. We might not make it to my bedroom if she kept this up.

“I changed my mind,” Ashton whispered, before slipping her hand down to my jeans and tugging on the button.

“You sure?” I asked, nipping at her earlobe.

She shivered in my arms and nodded.

This could never be wrong. It felt too right.

“I want these off,” she whispered as she unfastened my jeans and started tugging them down. I wanted them off too, but not in my living room. I wanted her back in my bedroom. On my sheets. So when she was gone I could smell her.

“To my room,” I replied as I kissed a trail down her neck. The small shiver that ran through her only excited me more. I reached down and grabbed the hem of her short dress and pulled it up so I could cup her ass. Both soft cheeks were bare. I froze and stared down at her while I slipped my hand down and found the thin strap.

“Holy shit, baby. You’re wearing a g-string?” I needed her dress off now. The sweet little pastor’s daughter was naughty as hell, and I loved every inch of her.

Ashton only nodded and pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her amused smile. She loved knowing that she could drive me crazy.

“Off. I want this dress off,” I demanded. I didn’t wait for her to help me. I found the zipper and slid it down to the curve of her h*ps then pushed it off her shoulders. The forgotten fabric fell to the floor as I stood taking in the sight of Ashton in a black lace bra and matching barely-there panties. I didn’t see the point in wearing panties that covered so very little but I wasn’t complaining. They were doing very good things for my imagination.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t make it to my room,” I apologized as I picked her up and pressed her against the wall in the hallway.