Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(40)

I ground my teeth. “Scarlet and I are never going to happen, Cletus.”

He shook his head firmly. “I’m disappointed in your lack of ambition, Billy. I thought we’d be on the same page. But I see now, I’m going to have to take a tough love approach.”

“Cletus—”

“I’m going to give you one chance,” he said, then pushed the rest of the cookie in his mouth and spoke around it as he continued, “One more chance is all you get. I’ve waited long enough for this and you know my feelings on delayed gratification.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s overrated.” He took a gulp of milk and picked up another cookie.

“No, Cletus. One chance on what?”

“I’m giving you one chance. One.” He pointed the cookie at me. “Tomorrow, you’re going to go find her, apologize to her for whatever that kerfufflefuck was I walked in on. Tell her you were suffering from temporary insanity, hopped up on illicit drugs, abducted by asshole probing aliens, whatever. I’m giving you one chance to make this right, and if you don’t take it, you are not going to like what happens next.”

“Are you threatening me?” I asked steadily. I would’ve been amused if the subject matter had been different.

But Cletus knew. He knew my history with Scarlet. He knew what happened when she left the first time and how I’d struggled when she returned. He’d been the one to send her away when she came visiting, looking for me, wanting to be my friend.

But, then again, he didn’t know. He didn’t know I’d tracked her down on her college campus, hoping to convince her to leave Ben. He didn’t know how I’d met her week after week, pushing her to leave her fiancé—who I’d found out later was already her husband—pushing her to change her major from education to music, pushing her to grow wings and fly instead of willingly living her whole life in a cage built by Ben McClure. Cletus didn’t know how I’d fallen in love with her all over again, but grew to deeply resent her too.

He did, however, know that I’d tried to seduce her the night before her wedding. He’d driven me to her house and dropped me off, and he’d found me drunk on our family’s roof the next morning with a tattoo of a goat on my shoulder after she’d told me she’d rather sleep with a goat than with me.

“That’s right, I’m threatening you. I’m threatening you with your own happiness, so don’t give me your brown note stare-down face,” he said calmly, like I was the crazy one in this room and his words were meant to soothe.

“Cletus.” Equally as calm—outwardly—I leaned against the desk, half sitting, and gave him a tight smile. “Let it go. How many times do you have to learn the same lesson? You can’t control everybody. You can’t control every single situation. Scarlet and I are never going to happen. I’m finally starting to let it go, really and truly, and Lord knows Scarlet has been pushing me away for years. Let us both move on.”

Cletus narrowed his eyes on me. Watching me the whole time, he dunked the second cookie into the milk, took a bite, chewed, and then said, “Twenty-four hours. And if you don’t make matters right in twenty-four hours, then it’s on. It’s on like a hippy bong.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s on like a twelve-year-old mowing the lawn.”

“Are you—”

“It’s on like a prawn who yawns at dawn.”

Saying nothing, since he was in a mood to interrupt, I scowled at my brother. He scowled back. I opened my mouth, intending to ask if he was finished.

He held up a finger. “I got one more. It’s on like a Shaun White wearing a thong in the Yukon. Okay, go ahead.”

Despite myself, despite how deeply and thoroughly irritated I was, I fought a smile. “You’re not going to like what happens if you make another it’s on statement.”

“And you’re not going to like what happens if you force my hand. Yet, I reckon you’re also really going to like what happens if you force my hand. I figure it might cause a rift between us for a while, but that’s okay because in the end Scarlet’s happiness is what matters and your happiness is what matters. And with that, I bid thee a good night.”

He shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth and picked up the plate with the remainder. Turning on his heel, he strolled to the door. I watched him go, knowing there was no talking him out of mischief once he set his mind to it. I’d just have to do my best to avoid the traps he sets. That’s all I could do.

“I hope you brought your knee pads,” he said, glancing over his shoulder once he reached the top of the steps. “You’re gunna need them for all that groveling.”





Dinner the next evening took place on the big stone terrace behind the house. Big planters with red flowers that bees liked were set along the porch, and white jasmine grew up lattice set against the stone exterior of the villa. Every door to the house was open as the heat of the day had yielded to a mild evening and slight breeze. Between the food, night air, and the flowers, it smelled close to heaven.

Like all the tables in this place—in the kitchen, dining room, and this one here on the terrace—the massive piece of furniture accommodated all of us with three seats left to spare.

“For Jess’s brother, Roscoe, and Simone,” Ashley said, lifting her chin to the empty spots. “Next time.”