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“I didn’t bring a book to karaoke night,” I said in a flat tone.
“Very convincing. Now, tell me the truth.”
With a sigh, I lifted the wrist that held the strap of my clutch and brought it between us, unzipping it to reveal my Kindle tucked safely inside along with my ID, a couple cards, and some cash. It only had room for the essentials, after all.
Beau’s eyes crinkled gorgeously around the edges as he let out a low laugh, then he shook his head and looked at the ceiling. “You didn’t bring abookto karaoke night, you stuffed a library in your wallet.”
“Yeah, well, if you were as observant as you think you are, you wouldn’t be so surprised,” I said with a lifted chin.
This only made him laugh again, though. “This is my shocked face. Anyway, like I was saying, I’ve seen you talk to people. And the more I talk to you, the less convinced I am that you’re bad at it. And I’ve seen you be good with people, too. So why do you keep saying this stuff?”
Good question.It wasn’t usually something I led with. But for whatever reason, I felt comfortable enough with Beau to admit it.
“Maybe you don’t know what you’re seeing.”Or maybe it doesn’t feel all that good to me. Maybe it feels like I can’t say anything without overthinking it first, and by the time I figure out the right thing to say, the conversation had already moved on.
Or maybe it felt like after talking a lot I had to go hide somewhere quiet, because talking and laughing drained me in a way it didn’t drain my sister. She seemed to be energized by interaction. She sought it out after a long day so she could refuel. But me? I sought out solitude most of the time. Unless you counted the cast of characters in whatever book I was reading.
Beau stepped forward, his jaw clenching slightly as he peered down at me through his thick lashes. “Lyndi, you’re not listening to me. When I say I’ve seen you, I’m saying Iseeyou. You have a habit of not giving yourself enough credit.”
I gulped, my mind growing loud again despite the quiet around us. It wasn’t noise that wreaked havoc on me now. It was the combination of his nearness, the scent of his cologne—spicy yet somehow sweet—and the way he looked down at me in a way that made me feel like he reallycouldsee me.
“Okay, well, I guess I didn’t realize you paid this much attention,” I said, working to keep my voice even.
He stepped back, leaning against the brick wall on one side of the hallway. “Neither did I, I guess. But maybe it’s because of my job.”
“As a Marine?”
“Um, yeah. I’m pretty sharp on the range. Gotta keep an eye out for squirrely recruits holding loaded guns for the first time. But I meant my other job.”
“As Mr. Fake Date?”
He pursed his lips. “Yeah. I don’t know. I have to be pretty good at reading the room.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s up to me to play my part. I figure out how I’m supposed to act based on what my clients want from me, so I guess I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people so I know if I’m hitting the mark.”
Slowly, I faced him with my back against the opposite wall. “Sounds a little manipulative.”
“Fair. But it’s the job.”
I considered this for a moment. Beau could really see me because he got paid to see his clients. He got paid to see their wants and needs, and then attend to them. So the fact that he seemed so attentive with me was probably a reflex. He’d practically said it himself. No use letting my tummy get all fluttery over a guy who probably just saw me as another puzzle to solve.
Though, one question remained, and I considered not asking it. But as we’d already established, I had a thing for puzzles, too. “When you’re not acting a certain way, who are you?”
One corner of his mouth quirked up automatically, and it felt like an eternity before he answered. “I don’t know.”
A loud crash sounded from the bar area, making me jump. The resulting laughter and cheering told me someone had fallen off the karaoke stage and had me ready to squirm out of my skin.
Okay, we get it, someone’s clumsy. Shut up about it, already.
When I met Beau’s eyes again, he was no longer leaning against the wall, but standing straight with one hand in the air between us. He let it fall and studied me for a second, then jerked his head toward the patio door. “Hey, do you wanna sit outside for a while? It’s… quieter.”
Wow. Yeah, he saw me, all right. He saw more than most. But unless it was all part of his act, he also seemed to care more than most, too. And I reallycoulduse a break from all the noise—despite the turmoil Beau himself caused.
Though, for better or worse, I was starting to think I kinda likedthisparticular kind of turmoil. I nodded once. “Sure.”
“That is, of course, unless you really did need to use the restroom.”
