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“I will, I’m sure she says hello back.”
He finally snuck a glance at Becca. She was watching him, chewing on her bottom lip. The combination of concern and disappointment still obvious on her face.
Dammit, he hated letting people down. Anyone really, but especially the people he loved.
Becca and his mom were the top of that list. And right now he was literally having to choose between the two of them.
Except it wasn’t really a choice. Beccawantedhim here and he wanted to be with her, but she didn’t need him. Heather did. His life in Autre did.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” Beau finally said to Hannah.
“Drive safe.”
Finally, Beau turned back to Becca. “I have to go.”
She just nodded.
“Bec, please,” he said, not even sure exactly what he was asking. To not make him feel bad? To understand? To not be disappointed in him?
She leaned over and turned on the bedside table lamp. “It’s okay,” she said. “Of course you have to go.”
He took in the sight of her in the light. Her hair was mussed, she had the soft look of sleep about her, she’d pulled on a simple t-shirt, and he knew she had nothing on underneath. She had whisker burns from him along her neck and cheek.
She looked sexy as hell and suddenly the knowledge slammed into him that she was going to be waking up in the morning, her first true morning after, alone.
“This is not how I planned this to go,” he said. He blew out a breath. “I feel like I say that to you a lot.”
She frowned. “Maybe you need to quit making plans. Everything’s okay.”
“Last night…” He told off for a moment, not totally sure what he was going to say. “Last night, some things changed. It was amazing. But it was a little rough. You’re probably gonna be sore.”
Her cheeks got a little pink, but she smiled. “I thought that was the goal.”
He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “Yeah, if I was here to take care of you. To tease about it. To maybe rub some sore muscles.”
She laughed. “Rubbing those muscles is what made me sore, right?”
He shook his head. “Not what I meant.”
She lifted her hand to cover the back of his. “I know. I’ll be okay.”
He really hated this. A moment ago, he’d realized that his mother needed him more than Becca. But after everything from last night, he wasn’t so sure.
Heather definitely needed him. This was a big deal for the bed and breakfast—for their business—but physically, and even more so, emotionally, he felt very weird about leaving Becca suddenly. If they hadn’t slept together it would be different. If this was like all the previous weekends it would be easier. But things had changed between them last night.
They’d definitely taken another huge step. He wanted to be with her the day after to see how she felt. Not just physically. Again, the lack of romance was bugging him. If things had gone according to his plan, if everything had been sweet and loving, he might feel better about this. Instead, he’d acted like a possessive caveman at a party in front of all of her friends, dabbled with exhibitionism on the way home in the truck, and then actually taken her virginity roughly over the back of the couch.
He frowned. Dammit.
She lifted her hand and rubbed her index finger between his eyebrows. “Stop. You need to go back to Autre.”
He did fucking have to go back to Autre.
Right now, in the middle of the goddamn night.
He was going to have to climb out of the bed of the woman he loved, leave her after making love to her for the first time, and go back and deal with a bunch of bullshit-headache-adult-responsibility stuff.
This really sucked.
