Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(51)

“Coexisting is a good first step.” I faced forward again, my attention moving over her. Walking arm in arm with Shelly, her step light, Scarlet hadn’t stopped smiling all day.

She smiled as we walked to the Uffizi. She smiled as we meandered about the great museum, pointing things out she thought were wonderful, asking me what I thought. She smiled when—mindless for a moment and overcome by the brilliance of her spirit and smiling eyes—I reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. She also blushed.

Then she smiled all through lunch, helping Ashley and Drew with Bethany by entertaining the little miss while they ordered and used the bathroom. Now we were walking back to the train station and she was still smiling. To me, therein lied the real progress. A happy, carefree Scarlet was the ultimate goal, and I’d do whatever it took to keep her happy.

“I don’t want y’all to coexist. I want y’all to co-ha-bi-tate.” Cletus threaded his fingers together as though to illustrate his meaning, earning a quick glare from me. And then, as though his only goal in life was to make my blood boil, he made a circle with his thumb and index finger. I stopped his other index finger before he could complete the lewd hand gesture.

“Cletus. Stop.”

He dropped his hands. “If it were me, I’d try the caveman carry again. There’s a time for yielding and there’s a time for charging, and this is definitely the latter. You should see the way she looks at you, like you’re one of my sausages.”

“I appreciate your efforts, Cletus. But now you need to let us figure this out on our own.” Nothing was simple. Maybe we were inching toward each other, but there still existed an entire universe of reasons to proceed with caution, not the least of which was the FBI investigation waiting for me back in Tennessee.

I didn’t think they had enough to charge me. If I kept quiet, they had no case, his word against my silence. And yet, I hadn’t decided whether or not to be silent, even if it meant giving up the senate race and everything else. Part of me wanted to confess.

But if Scarlet were to give us another chance—no. I would not make my decision her responsibility.

Cletus gave a short huff. “No.”

“No?”

“No. Nein. Negatory. Nada. Niet. Nee. Voch.”

I grimaced, mostly because my hip hurt. I’d walked too far today.

“You can’t be objective about this, Billy. I’m telling you, toss that woman over your shoulder and lock yourselves in one of those giant suites upstairs, she’d be thrilled. Why do you think we put y’all on that level together? You don’t think I wanted one of those big, nice rooms for me and Jenn?”

“Why you think you have a say in this, I don’t understand.”

“Why you think you don’t need my help, I don’t understand. For example—” he tugged on the sleeve of my shirt, bringing me to a stop “—when are you telling her the truth?”

We’d already stopped, but his question felt like walking into a wall. Silently, we regarded each other, the rest of our family continuing down the block, and I worked to wipe all hint of dread from my features, burying it behind indifference.

His eyes searched mine. “I’m talking about you taking her punishment when she ran away at fourteen, and about what happened to Razor’s—”

“I know what you meant.” My pulse quickened.

If Scarlet found out, that window would slam shut and I’d be the one to close it. She thought Ben had saved her. For years, she’d built a shrine to him with bricks fashioned of gratitude and obligation and guilt. But now she’d finally knocked it down and was finding her own way. Good. Great.

I didn’t want any shrines. I just wanted her, guilt-free, wanting me.

“Well?” he pushed, his stare searching. “When?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

His eyes narrowed, his mouth a flat line. “You’re not going to tell her, are you? You’re never going to tell her.”

I turned from him, struggling to keep the limp from my gait. “She doesn’t need to know.”

“Billy. Lord knows I love you something fierce. But you’re as wise as you are stupid, and this is why you need our help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Well, too bad. She needs to know who her real savior was. It’s on like—”

“Listen.” I stopped, placing my hand on his chest to stop him. “Just listen to me. The last thing I need or want is her feeling a sense of duty toward me. I was never her savior, and neither was Ben. I did what I did because I loved her. I love her. She doesn’t owe me a damn thing, but she’ll never see it that way, it’s not how she’s wired. Everything is in trade, everything is a debt to be paid. If she feels indebted, I can’t trust her to make clear-headed decisions based on what she actually wants. This truth will not set her free. Can you understand that?”

Cletus slid his jaw to one side, glaring at me. “All I heard was, Blah blah blah I don’t trust her. Did you say something else?”

“Fine,” I ground out. “Fine. You told Duane, Beau, and Ashley. I need to know, who else did you tell?”

Watching me with hawkish eyes, Cletus slid his hands into his pockets, saying nothing. For once.

“Cletus. Who did you tell?”