Mr. Wrong (23 page)

Sara
pressed her finger into the imprinted bumps. “I’ve always loved butterflies. I used to chase them all over the ranch. They just seemed so fragile and free to me. It was like the perfect contradiction: they could fly, but they could also get hurt so easily.”

Holding his fork in mid-air
. “I like that. Fragile and free.” His lip quirked into a half-smile. “It’s like someone else I know.”

Sara
puckered her brow. “No. That’s not me.” She shook her head for effect. And she really meant it. That did not describe her.

Looking up from his plate of food he snorted.
“You have no idea, do you?”

“Hey
, I am very hardy. I grew up in Montana. People there are hardy people.”

Beau grinned, taking another bite of food and clearly not agreeing with her.
He stabbed the air with his fork. “Stubborn maybe, I’ll give you that.”

She thought about all the times he’d had to help her.
“I’ll take stubborn, then.” They smiled at each other, and it was one of those moments that she felt like she was totally connected to someone. Like they completely understood each other.

Her phone buzzed
, and she looked up at Beau before hitting the talk button. Tim’s wife was supposed to be calling her back. She stood to move away from the table. “Hello.”

“How’s my girl?”
Jonathon’s voice sang happily into the phone.

“Hi.
Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving.” Trying to keep her voice even, she felt her cheeks flush.

Beau cleared his throat and their eyes met.

“Uh, yeah
, I’m here.” Turning away from him, she went to the window. “Uh-huh.”

The chair scrape
d the wood floor as he stood, the door shutting behind him quietly.

**

“Sara, you’ve been washing dishes for an hour, let me take over.” It was seven o’clock and all the guests were finally gone.

“No, Ellen, you seriously did all the cooking.
Please, let me do this.” Sara smiled at her. “It’s therapy for me, really.”

Beau walked in
to the kitchen with a bunch of plates and set them down next to the sink. “Mom, go. You outdid yourself, as usual. Get going before it ices up too much.” He hugged her to him. “Thank you, Mom.”

Ellen pulled back, looking a little exhausted.
She smiled. “It really was a wonderful day.” She stepped to Sara and gently touched her forearm. “You made it wonderful, dear. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.” She turned and took her coat and purse out of the closet.

Beau walked her to her car and
came back in shivering. His arms came around her waist, and he nuzzled into her neck. “You smell good.”

Closing her eyes she relished this feeling, of his strong arms holding onto her
. She could get lost in the tropical smell of him.

“
I’ve been waiting for them all to leave so I could have you all to myself.” He kissed her gently on the neck.

“Kissing!”
She said it like a kid tells on another kid.

Beau laughed and kissed her cheek, then her hairline.
He turned her in his arms. “Sara, I attended BYU and graduated, and I can honestly say that I never once cheated on their honor code but—” He brushed his lips to hers. “I cannot keep this rule.” He kissed her again, longer. Then, he pulled away and kept his arms around her. His face against hers.

She shook her head but didn’t resist him.
“I love the feel of your arms around me.” She snuggled into him.

“You never have to leave them, you know that
, right?” He kissed her cheek and then her hairline again.

She pulled away from him.
“We have lots of dishes to do, sir.” She turned for the sink.

“True.”
He went to the living room and brought in another pile of dishes. “I think that’s the last of them.” He pulled her apron strings as he walked by.

“I don’t think you can quit bothering me, Mr.
Hennings.” She happily started in on the huge mashed potato pot.

He laughed and pulled some
plastic bowls out to put the food in. “You don’t know the half of it, Ms. Fairbanks.” He methodically went through the leftovers, scraping them all out of their bowls.

“You’re going to have to come have leftovers tomorrow night after your shift at the University.”

Sara
cleared her throat.

Beau softly sang with the music coming from the
iPod speakers. He glanced up at her when she didn’t respond. “What?”

Averting her eyes
, she scrubbed the pot harder.

“You’ve had something to tell me all day, haven’t you?”

Sara really didn’t want to tell him. It had been such a nice day.

He stepped across from the sink bar and put his hands on top of her soapy ones.
“What?”

She sighed.
“Well . . .” she thought she should just rip it off like a band aid. “Jonathon’s coming to town tomorrow night. He wants this weekend for his weekend.”

Chapter 33

Beau’s eyes were steady. Sara could see him running different scenarios through his brain.

“I’m not a business that’s being taken over, Beau.”
Sara picked up another dish and dunked it into the water.

Beau looked at her sharply.

“I just mean, it’s not about a strategy to avoid takeover or anything.”

He touched her hand
, and she looked up at him. “No, Sara, you’re much more important to me than a business.”

Her heart picked up speed at his intensity.
She redoubled her efforts on the dishes.

Beau went back to putting everything away and wiping counters.
The singing and humming had stopped.

They finished the dishes
and she turned to him. “I think I need to get going.”

Beau leaned back against the counter.
“Okay.”

Sara
felt his annoyance at this whole situation but didn’t know what to do about it.

On the drive home he touched
her hand lightly but didn’t say anything. Sara wanted to call the whole thing off—wanted to just say she loved him and they should elope like he wanted. But at the back of her mind was Jonathon. He’d been there for two years. And she had to find out if things could work with them.

Beau
insisted on a walk-thru of her apartment, flipping on lights in the kitchen and her bedroom.

Sara
sat on the couch, feeling horrible.

Stopping abruptly in front of the couch he clapped
his hands together and said, “Well—I guess I’ll be going, then.”

Sara
stood. The apartment felt small compared to Beau’s cabin. “Beau, thanks for everything the past couple of days.” Tears were forming in her eyes, and her face felt funny, like it was made of taffy and she couldn’t form a proper goodbye face. “These past few days were really amazing.”

His eyes bored into hers, and his stance softened.
Stepping toward her gingerly he wiped the tears off of her face with his thumb and moaned a little. “How can you do this to me, Sara Fairbanks?”

Sara
felt herself relax. “I’m sorry, Beau. I just have to see this thing through. It’s really better that way.” She nodded, pulling away, feeling stronger again.

He laughed under his breath.
“Okay, I’m just going to ask: how is this better?”

She hesitated.

“Just tell me what you’re thinking, woman.” He whispered it fiercely.

“Okay
. . . I think I might love you.” She backed away from him and sat down, feeling all the angst inside of her exploding. “See, you really do have an effect on me.”

“Good.” He folded his arms and waited for her to continue.

“You have nothing to say to this revelation.”

His lip quirked.
“I’ve suspected it.”

Sara
sighed and rolled her eyes.

He laughed and sat next to her, taking her hand.
“You know I love you. I hoped that you’d possibly be feeling a little the same way.”

“But think about it.
If I never gave this thing with Jonathon a chance, if I never found out what was real . . . I know that sounds silly, but you know what I’m saying.”

Beau nodded crisply.

“Then I’d always wonder . . . for the rest of my life. Even if it is just a made up idea in my head . . . it’s in there, and I have to see what Jonathon really is. I have to see what we could be together.” Sara cringed and looked away from Beau. “I hate this. I hate that I’m hurting you through all of this, and I feel like we’ve grown so close these last couple of days.”

“I get it.”
His voice was quiet.

Sara
looked up at him. “What?”

“I get it.
It’ll be something that’s in the back of your mind, something that would haunt you when things were bad with us. ‘Did I make the wrong decision?’”

“Yes.”

Beau nodded.
“Okay.” His eyes were steady. He turned for the door. “So, I’ll see you, then.” He opened the door.

“Beau.”
She suddenly felt lost. Sara realized how much she’d gotten used to him, being with him constantly these past three days.

She gently touched his shoulder.
“I’ll call you?”

Beau didn’t move
. “You better.”

Sara
felt relieved. “Okay.”

He spun around and kissed her, drinking from her like a man that would be going off to war.

She couldn’t help it and let out a soft laugh.

Beau smiled.
“I have to leave you with something to think about. Goodbye.”

The door closed softly
behind him.

**

The office of Academic Affairs was empty. The manager, Mrs. Livingston, had run Sara through some basics of the job and then confided that Thanksgiving was usually dead and there would probably be no one calling or coming in.

“I was so relieved you could work this weekend
, that’s why you got the job, you know.” Mrs. Livingston smiled widely at her and paused at the door. “I’ll train you more next week.”

Sara studied for her finals
, secretly happy no one was around.

The morning hours
flew by. She got up and took a sandwich and water out of her backpack. Her nerves were acting up with Jonathon coming. Feeling a little out of sorts, she hadn’t eaten anything all day.

The large, circular clock loomed above her on the wall next to the metal curtain that opened and closed according to business hours.
Jonathon said he would be there around one.

The door across the entrance squeaked and
Beau walked in, dusting snow off of his jacket. He smiled and held up a drink. “I thought you might like some hot chocolate.” He quickly grabbed a chair from the hallway and pulled it up to her counter. “Even though it’s in a coffee cup,” he whispered conspiratorially over the counter, “it’s really hot chocolate.”

Sara
glared at him.

He laughed and leaned
over the counter. “I missed you last night.”

She
took the hot chocolate and smiled. “Good.”

He laughed and sat down.
“It is good.” He surveyed her face closely. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s com
ing soon.”

Beau shrugged.
“I know.” He took another sip and raised the cup to her in a mock toast. “Maybe it’s time we had a man to man.”

Alarm washed over her.
She did not want that. “No. I don’t think that would be good.”

Beau waved his hand in the air.
“It’ll be fine. How is work going?”

Sara
told herself—for the thousandth time—that she couldn’t control everything. Leaning back into her chair, she tried to relax. “Good. Not too busy. I’ve been working on your class.” She nodded to her laptop. “Is our relationship going to present problems for you? Are you really allowed to date students?”

He sighed, kicking his boot up on the chair opposite of him.
“Sara, quit worrying about that. I’ve told you, I am not a real professor. I don’t care. If they don’t want me to teach, I don’t need to teach.” He smiled reassuringly.

“But you’re such a good teacher.
I’ve learned so much this semester.”

Beau winked at her.
“Just marry me. That’ll fix the problem.”

Sara frowned at him and picked up the ringing phone.

A student asked about their graduation track and what classes they needed. She put them on hold and went to grab the file Mrs. Livingston told her all the information about graduation requirements was stored in.