Page 64 of One to Watch

Duncan [2:01pm]: Tim, you ready to do your thing with Nash and Cooper?

Tim [2:01pm]: Hell yeah. I just need to go find Mom.

“Hey, Bea—you haven’t seen Nash and Cooper, have you?”

Lauren’s tone was casual, but Bea could see she was somewhat frantic.

“Sorry, I haven’t.” Bea shook her head. “Did you check around the side of the house, where the maple grove is? The property extends further than you think over there, maybe they went for a walk?”

“I’ll check that out—thanks!”

Lauren headed that way, and Bea closed her eyes. Great. As if it weren’t stressful enough bringing ten men home to meet her family, now two of them had taken off entirely? And unlike the first night, this wasn’t Lauren’s doing; this was just Nash and Cooper deciding they’d had enough of even pretending to be interested in dating Bea. Not that she was remotely interested in either of them, obviously—but it still stung to know their disappearance (and the producers’ subsequent search for them) would certainly be yet one more humiliating plotline on this week’s episode.

Add it to the list, Bea thought, mentally ticking them off: The man who walked off on the first night. All the men who didn’t, but who were shocked and horrified to meet her. The myriad horrors of the boat. And worst of all, Asher lulling her into believing, just for a second, that any of this could be real.

But what about Sam? a small voice fired back. What about Wyatt?

Bea scanned the yard and saw that Sam and Wyatt were both embroiled in a high-stakes game of capture the flag along with a couple other guys and several of the older kids. Sam broke into a grin and waved to Bea when he saw her watching—she felt a pang in her gut as she waved back. She wanted so badly to believe that this was possible for her, that she could have a husband and children and easy Sunday gatherings like this one.

But everything inside her told her that she couldn’t.

“Bea, may I steal you for a moment?”

Per usual, Bea felt an involuntary lurch of attraction when she saw Luc, who looked perfect in strategically rumpled slacks and a white button-down. He had two glasses of rosé in hand—the man knew how to make an entrance.

“Of course.” Bea smiled, trying to shove aside her stormy thoughts and enjoy her time with a man who might not be genuinely interested in her, but who at least seemed to genuinely take pleasure in her company.

Bea hadn’t spent any one-on-one time with Luc since the night of the crème brûlée and their kiss—she remembered how comfortable she felt with him as they walked over to a patio area near a tall oak tree, where they sat on an outdoor loveseat. Bea’s fuchsia Mara Hoffman sweater dress was warm and soft, the wine was cool and fresh, and everything felt tactile as Luc slid his arm around her waist.

“I have missed you,” he said softly. “Is that ridiculous to say? I know it hasn’t been long.”

“It feels like it’s been a long time.”

“Ah, but for you it feels long because you have seen so many men, done so many things. For me it feels long because I have thought only of you.”

Bea rolled her eyes. “Come on, that’s not true.”

He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, his lips lingering near her ear. “You have no idea how dull it was in that house.”

“Hey! How’s it going?” Bea’s brother Jon broke the moment as he plopped down in a chair across from them.

“Good.” Bea cleared her throat. “This is Luc—Luc, meet my oldest brother, Jon. Luc is a chef from France.”

The two men shook hands. “France, huh? Hope you’re not too bored here in unglamorous Ohio.”

“Where I come from, in Normandy, is not so different from this.”

“Is that true?” Bea asked. “You come from the countryside?”

“Yes, I grew up near a city called Rouen, north of Paris, not far from the coast? You may know it as the city where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.”

“Oh, so you guys have cool progressive ideas about women.”

“Exactement.” Luc laughed, and Jon looked brightly from him to Bea.

“You two seem to be getting along. You like each other?”

Bea flushed red and shot her brother a dirty look.