Page 81 of Breaking All The Rules
He nodded gravely. “And on your best bee-havior.”
“I’ll have to take my vitamin bee, for sure.”
“I can loan you my Bee Gees albums if you need some creative stimulus?”
Bea pretended to consider the offer while her brain scrambled for a snappy rejoinder. “I’m more a Bee-yoncé kinda gal.”
Brian shook his head in faux disappointment. “Now you’re just pollen my leg.”
Clay, who, along with the others, had been following their rapid-fire banter as if watching a grand slam tennis final, groaned out loud. He fixed Austin with a what-the-fuck look. “There are two of them?”
Austin chuckled, clearly unperturbed. “That’s my honey,” he confirmed.
Jill slid her palm onto Clay’s knee. “I think your brother has been bee-witched.”
Clay gaped. “You too?”
“Nah, son, that’s not the question.” Brain paused for dramatic effect. “To bee, or not to bee, that’s the question.”
He really cracked up then, and Bea joined him because it was a truly magnificent addition to the pun fest. She’d never had this. This easy affection, this contentment in company, this feeling of family. And she loved it.
“Oh God.” Clay rolled his eyes before appealing to his mother. “Can’t you make him stop?”
Margaret shook her head. “You know your father, Clay. Best to just let it bee.” Her straight face lasted for about two seconds before she dissolved into laughter, which caused another round of hilarity. Even Clay, who’d clearly decided if he couldn’t beat them, he might as well join them, cracked a wry smile.
And Bea’s heart was fuller than it had ever been. She could definitely get used to this.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Austin smiled as Beatrice’s laughter drifted across Jack’s to where he was seated at the stools. Since she’d said yes to Kim a month ago, Beatrice spent her days creating magic for Cranky Bea and her nights with him creating a different kind of magic. Except for Sundays. They spent Sundays at the ranch with his family.
And on Wednesdays, she line danced.
He was in the corner closest to the small dance floor, where there were currently about a dozen people following the line-dancing instructor. Pearl was in her sixties with high hair and low expectations.
He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Beatrice since she’d walked into Jack’s tonight. He’d had to work back and had arranged to meet her here, and it was just as well, because if she’d been wearing that at the apartment, there was no way they’d have made it to Jack’s.
It was a dress. A bright yellow dress. Big Bird yellow. A stark contrast to the vibrant red of her hair. And it was strapless with two ties that sprouted from the fabric at a point between her breasts, which she’d pulled up and crossed at her nape to anchor around her neck before being brought through to the front and crisscrossing under her breasts, and then winding around and around the bodice several more times, before they’d been tied at her waist at the back, their ends almost trailing to the floor.
It was made from some kind of slippery fabric that draped lovingly against her body and disguised the fullness of the skirt. But when she spun around, the skirt flared out like a spinning top, flashing glimpses of bare thighs and those sexy red cowgirl boots she’d bought online especially for this class.
It was a far cry from sweats and bunny slippers.
But the thing that made the dress shine and made every person in the class with her—all of them at least thirty years her senior—smile indulgently and nod was that she knew, maybe for the first time, that she looked hot. It was in the way she swished around and put a little extra roll in her hips, and the way she flicked her hair and exaggerated the snappy little foot movements as she performed each heel dig.
And then there was the way she kept sneaking glances at him as she went through the routines. A side glance over her shoulder, a peek from under the cover of her rich red hair as it swished around her face. The way she smiled all playful and secretive, her lips shining with a clear gloss that he knew tasted like bubble gum. She was bristling with sexual energy, and he felt its force all the way across the bar.
Someone whistled quietly beside him, sitting on the stool next to his. “That’s some kind of dress.”
Austin glanced to the side—Drew.
“Yup,” Tucker agreed, also joining them, leaning his elbows on the bar, watching the dancers as they popped and locked it to Hoedown Throwdown. “Should be illegal in all fifty states.”
“How’d you get so lucky, Junior?” Arlo added as he, too, joined the fray.
Austin should probably be affronted at the way these guys were appreciating Beatrice. But he was just exceedingly fucking pleased that Beatrice had stumbled across him first.
“Must be the uniform,” Drew offered.
