When I Fall
Page 40Everyone is wearing dresses and suits, but none of the women here look close to as good as Beth looks.
Tiny black dress without straps, exposing more of her skin to me than I’ve seen up until this point. Those fucking boots, looking like she’s had them for years, all tattered and scuffed up, but still somehow sexy as hell. She looks like she’s ready to enter a damn pageant, then kick the asses of the other women in it after she takes the crown. Beauty and badass rolled into one hot little package. Fuck the chicks here in heels. Fuck Molly, wherever she is, no doubt wearing something worth more than my truck. Nobody is holding my attention like Beth is.
“You wanna get a drink?” I ask her, spotting the bar at the far end of the tent. My eyes land on Mr. McCafferty, Molly’s dad, standing by a table talking to a few other guests. I’ve always liked him.
“Okay.” Beth starts walking toward the bar. I let go of her hand and touch the small of her back, guiding her to go on without me.
“I’m going to go talk to someone real quick. I’ll meet you over there.”
She looks at me like she might protest leaving my side, but it’s brief. After a simple nod, she moves fluidly between guests in the direction of the bar.
I turn and make my way across the dance floor to the other side of the tent. Mr. McCafferty meets my eyes briefly as I get closer, then recollection lifts his chin. He says something to the man seated at the table, sets his tumbler down, and steps forward with a hand extended.
“Reed, it’s good to see you. How’s the construction business going?” He shakes my hand, keeping his gray eyebrows pinched together. Silently asking what the hell I’m doing here.
I give him a look, I have no fucking idea, and he breathes a laugh before running a hand over his short beard.
I stick my hands in my front pockets. “It’s good. Busy right now. We just started a job over at St. Joseph’s putting in that new wing.”
I nod as my eyes find Beth across the room. Her back is to me while she stands alone at the bar. Shit. I need to make this quick. I don’t want her feeling like I’ve abandoned her.
“How’s your grandfather doing? Is he still working?”
I look back at Mr. McCafferty. “Yeah, he’s still working. We can’t keep him away from the shop.”
“How old is he now? I’m surprised he’s not retired.”
“He turned eighty-six two months ago. My grandmother keeps begging him to retire, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. He doesn’t know how to sit still.”
He laughs through closed lips, stepping aside to allow a caterer to pass. “You tell him I said hi when you see him.” He offers his hand again, concern settling on his face. “I don’t need to worry about you breaking up an engagement, do I?”
“No, sir. Your daughter invited me.”
I spot Beth in her same spot, but now being engaged into conversation by the bartender. A lot of conversation. The asshat apparently doesn’t have a shit ton of other guests to serve.
Fucker.
He says in return, “you too” or “take care” or something. I’m halfway to Beth before he finishes whatever the hell it is.
She’s holding a drink in her hand, sipping through a straw. Asshat behind the bar can’t stop looking at her.
“Hey.” I get as close to her as I can without knocking her over.
She looks up at me, still tasting her drink. I slide my hand along her back to her hip, pulling her a little so her shoulder hits my chest. I look up at the guy still staring at Beth, not registering my presence at all. My stomach churns with a foreign possessiveness as my fingers flex against her hip.
Can you not fucking see me with her?
Beth makes a noise in the back of her throat that grabs my attention. Her nose wrinkles as she swallows, pulling the drink away from her mouth. She shakes her head. “No, I definitely don’t like that. It’s a little strong.” She sets the drink on the bar and slides it away from her.
“Aw, come on. I pegged you for a girl who liked sex on the beach.”
My head snaps in the dead man’s direction. “What did you just say?”
He smiles, amused at himself as he picks up the glass. “Sex on the beach. The drink. I thought she’d like it.”
He holds up his free hand, palm out, and takes a step back. The drink Beth didn’t like is still in his other hand. “Easy, man. She didn’t know what she wanted. I was just letting her try it.”
I feel Beth’s hand on my chest. When I look down, she’s giving me the most puzzled expression, like she can’t understand my reaction. I can’t understand it either. I’ve never wanted to rip someone’s arm out of their socket and beat them with it, but I sure as hell want to now.
I pinch my eyes shut, take a deep breath to calm the rage boiling inside me, and open my eyes to look at her.
“What do you like? Fruity stuff? Like strawberries?” A part of me wishes I already knew this answer.
“I like strawberries,” she says, tilting her chin up.
I acknowledge her with a nod before looking over top her head. “Make her a daiquiri. And don’t make it that strong.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">