For the Love of Beard Read online

  “What if, say, you know that at one mall entrance, there’s not a no guns allowed sign,” she said. “But you know that there are signs on other entrances to the mall, there just isn’t one at the entrance that you use. Are you still allowed to take it into the mall?”

  My lips twitched.

  “Yeah, I guess, technically, you’d be allowed to,” I conceded. “But you’re going to have a hard time proving to me that you’ve never, not once, gone into another entrance.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Which entrance are you saying is the one that doesn’t have the no guns allowed sign?”

  “There’s not one at the Dick’s entrance or the Sears entrance,” she answered quickly. “Though there are ones at the Dillard’s entrance and the entrance at the main part of the mall.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t go to the mall so I can’t verify this right off the top of my head. Is there a sign on the wall at the entrance to the mall?”

  She shrugged. “Not one that I can remember seeing.”

  “The rule about the no guns allowed sign is that it has to be visible. It has to be on contrasting backgrounds, and it has to be posted somewhere that it will be clearly visible as you enter the building,” I explained. “So this would be a question for the mall owner, and once you made him aware of these disparities between the businesses, he’d likely fix them anyway.”

  Her mouth twitched, and I had the oddest urge to drop a kiss on top of her upturned lips.

  “Once you get your license, you can carry anywhere that doesn’t have this sign posted…unless the owner of the establishment verbally tells you that he or she doesn’t want you to carry there.”

  I droned on, stopping periodically to answer questions, most of which came from Audrey.

  Her latest question, though, had me stopping in my tracks.

  “What happens, say, if you go into a restaurant and someone has their gun drawn and starts shooting,” she questioned. “What should I do? Can I just pull it out and shoot?”

  I thought about her question for a moment.

  “Yes,” I said. “But you need to consider what’s in the background behind your target. You have to weigh the possible consequences of shooting. Also, what makes you think that the guy shooting is the bad guy?”

  Her mouth opened, and then closed.

  “Well,” she hesitated.

  I grinned. “You’re not sure now, are you?”

  “I was at a class a few weeks ago,” I started. “During the class, the instructor gave a PowerPoint presentation. There was one particular slide titled ‘What would you do?’ that stuck with me.” I leaned against my desk and crossed my feet out in front of me. “The scene unfolds like this: a girl is out with her friends. A group of them exit the mall, six or so in total, and they’re all giggling and laughing.”

  “So they’re just about to step into the parking lot from the front exit when a van pulls up. Two masked men get out, take hold of a girl who was with the group. She is kicking and screaming, but despite that they force her, bodily, into the van.”

  Audrey’s eyebrows rose in interest.

  “What would you do?” I asked. “If you were there watching that happen, would you act?”

  She thought about it. Then shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  My mouth formed into a grin.

  “What about you?”

  I asked the guy in the front row.

  He was an oil field guy, and the little nametag I’d given him earlier declared him as ‘Dayton P.’

  “I’d act. I’d take the van’s tires out. Anything I needed to do to get that girl out of the van.”

  “And you’d have been in the wrong,” I told him.

  His eyes narrowed, and I clearly saw the anger on his face.

  He was one of those guys that I had a feeling would get a hero complex when he finally got that concealed carry permit. He thought he was invincible, and he’d be the type of guy who would act before thinking.

  “Why?” he barked.

  I stared at him for a long moment and then turned my attention back to the rest of the class.

  Today’s class had fifteen students total, the majority of whom were men from the volunteer fire department one town over.

  Each of them was looking at the guy in the front of the class. The one who’d been spitting dip into a clear plastic bottle for the last hour of class.

  I looked away from that bottle.

  It really grossed me out.

  There was this one time, as a kid, that my father left his dip spit cup out on the counter. Thinking it was mine, I’d taken a big swig, realized instantly that it wasn’t mine and had promptly blown chunks all over the kitchen, which my father had then made me clean up.

  “What you don’t know is that the girl was a runaway, and the two masked men forcing her into the van were her brother and her father. By law, the two men did nothing wrong, but you would have been in the wrong for pulling your gun out on them and discharging it without just cause,” I answered. “So yes, there can be multiple things playing out at once. If you don’t have the full picture, then it’s possible that you could be acting without cause.”

  “Plot twist,” Audrey grinned.

  She then raised her hand.

  I raised my brow at her.

  “I have to use the bathroom. Can we have a break?”

  I rolled my eyes to the clock, my eyes widening slightly. “It’s only been an hour.”

  She shrugged. “I had coffee. And you didn’t let me go before we left.”

  Goddamn, she was cute.

  “Yeah, we can take one,” I agreed with a sigh. “Everyone, take ten minutes.”

  The room emptied of everyone except Audrey.

  “I thought you had to pee.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Then why aren’t you going?” I pushed.

  She stared at me.

  “I want you to take me to the nice bathroom. Not the one you let guests use,” she ordered.

  I cocked a brow at her in question.

  “That man just came out of there, and he spent a good ten minutes in there while we were talking about where we could and could not take our guns. I don’t want to go into a stinky bathroom.”

  I just rolled my eyes and jerked my head. “This way.”

  We passed by the front door on the way, and I saw the people who had left the room loitering outside, smoking.

  “What did you do?” she asked as she followed closely behind me. “Hit up some smoker’s anonymous group to get them to come to your concealed weapon class?”

  My lips twitched. “No.”

  She stopped when she saw a picture of my mom and me.

  “Is that your mom?”

  In order not to answer her, because I knew she’d have questions if I told her that it was, I said, “And to answer your question about the group, they’re the volunteer fire department.” I gestured to the empty bedroom. “The bathroom’s through there, just hang a left once you go through the door.”

  She eyed me warily.

  “Is this the master bath?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay.” She left without saying another word, and I was left wondering what it mattered if it was the master bath or not.

  She’d told me to take her to the nice one, and other than the one that was in the horse barn outside, this was the only other one there was beside the one she refused to use.

  Though, now that I thought about it, I’d left the lube out on the counter I’d been using this morning before heading out to get the complicated girl who never strayed far from my thoughts.

  I absently lifted my hand up to run it over the scar that was now a magnet for my hands when I was stressed.

  It was an ugly scar.

  A few months ago, I’d been going to Ghost’s house to help him when I was shot in the neck. Some men had been after Ghost and his wife, and I’d
never seen it coming.

  I probably should have, of course.

  I was a fucking LEO—law enforcement officer—after all.

  But I hadn’t.

  I’d been so freakin’ focused on looking around for Audrey that I hadn’t been paying attention to my back.

  My inability to pay attention nearly cost me my life.

  “You’re gross.”

  My gaze found hers.

  “Why?”

  She lifted her brows.

  “As if you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she sniffed, pushing past me.

  I grinned at her back.

  “I really don’t,” I lied. “How about you tell me what has your knickers in a twist?”

  She stopped and turned. “My ‘knickers’ aren’t in a twist. In fact, I’m pretty sure my knickers are none of your business.”

  I winked at her and moved past her, making my way back to the large screened-in back porch where I was holding today’s class.

  I could hear Audrey’s hurried footsteps behind me, but she wasn’t quite tall enough to keep up with my stride that took me out into the sunny February day.

  “Everybody good?” I asked.

  I received nods from the rest of the class, and a grunt of annoyance from the woman who’d passed me on her way to her seat.

  “Now,” I pointed at the man who was going to be the annoying avenger. “Tell me. Can you take a concealed handgun, even with your license, onto a college campus?”

  Four hours later, I was picking up the trash that was left after today’s class.

  Audrey was sitting on the back of my side-by-side off road vehicle, swinging her legs, watching me do all the work.

  “You could come over and pick up some of this,” I gestured.

  Before she could answer, the sound of a truck pulling into the back pasture of my property caused me to look up, and I frowned.

  Handing the trash to Audrey as I moved past her, I walked to my brother’s truck, and stared at him when he rolled down his window.

  “What’s up?” I asked him.

  Normally, my brother announced himself, but today he hadn’t.

  I could tell instantly that something was wrong.

  “I need your help.”

  My brows rose.

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s up?”

  He pointed to the seat beside him, and I saw the familiar boxes.

  “I don’t want any,” I told him.

  He grinned. “I’ll tell your niece that you’re not willing to help her.”

  I growled. “Fuck you.”

  His smile was contagious, and I shook my head. “How many do I need to buy?”

  He shrugged. “I think she really wants to sell them, but I was called into work, and I really, really don’t have time to do it. Do you think you could take her around my neighborhood tomorrow and do it?”

  There was nothing I wanted to do less than walk around my brother’s neighborhood selling stuff, but then Audrey caught my brother’s attention, and I realized that maybe there was a silver lining in it for me.

  “Who’s that?” he asked.

  I grinned. “That, brother dear, is a badass.”

  His chin jerked. “Looks like she wants your attention.”

  I grunted. “She wants nothing to do with me. Really, she just wants to go home.”

  He hummed. “Well then take her.”

  I shrugged. “I fuckin’ plan on it.” I eyed him speculatively. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here to ask me this.”

  My brother shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “I really just wanted to know what was keeping you distracted enough that you weren’t answering your phone.”

  I glared at him, but wisely chose not to say anything.

  My brother didn’t need any more ammo than he already had.

  Somebody had been talking.

  My eyes went to Audrey, who was still swinging her legs.

  “Who called you?”

  He shrugged.

  “Can’t drive through my neighborhood, bro, and not expect me to know,” he said, winking. “Just you remember that.”

  Which meant one of two things.

  He’d seen Audrey in my front seat when I’d left with her this morning, or old Mrs. Shoe did.

  My guess was that it was Mrs. Shoe.

  She had nothing else to do with her life but to sit and watch others living theirs, and it was likely that when I pulled into Audrey’s driveway to pick her up, Mrs. Shoe had been watching.

  The moment I left, Mrs. Shoe was probably already on the phone with my brother.

  “Anyway,” my brother put the truck into reverse. “You enjoy the rest of your…class.”

  I flipped him the bird and returned to picking up the trash.

  The entire time, I could practically feel the inquisitiveness prickling Audrey’s tongue.

  She surprised me, though, and never said a word.

  The only thing I got out of her the rest of the day, in fact, was a ‘thank you’ when I dropped her off.

  But tomorrow, I’d be back.

  She could count on that.

  Chapter 3

  Please don’t snort cocaine in the bathroom.

  -Things I never thought I’d have to say to houseguests

  Audrey

  I opened the door and looked down.

  “Hello,” the girl said. “I’m with the Girl Scou…”

  “Thin mints,” I blurted.

  She blinked.

  “That’s…”

  “Oh, and give me four boxes of those Trefoils,” I ticked off my fingers. “Three thin mints.”

  Her mouth gaped.

  “How much?”

  She gaped some more.

  “That’ll be thirty-five dollars.”

  I looked up to find my archnemesis, Tobias Hail—don’t ever call me Fender—jerk wad on my front step.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gestured to the girl.

  “My niece,” I said. “I knew you’d buy some. She’s having some trouble selling them.”

  My mouth pursed.

  “I used to be in the Girl Scouts,” I told her sympathetically, instantly feeling terrible for this little girl that looked like she’d be eaten alive by the go-getter Girl Scouts that hustled the people of Wal-Mart. “Where have you hit?”

  “Hit?” she stuttered.

  “Hit. Where have you gone?” I asked. “You can get some door-to-door, but the best places to go are where the hormonal women and hungry men are.”

  “Where would that be?” she asked hesitantly.

  I pushed the door open wider and then gestured her in. “Let me go get my shoes and we can go.”

  I didn’t miss the smirk that lit Fender’s—I refused to call him Tobias because that’s what he wanted—face. The fucker.

  He knew that I’d go with him…that girl, well she was freakin’ adorable.

  I didn’t know that he had a niece!

  Then again, I didn’t know much about him at all. Only his name and that he gave me the chills—and not in a bad way.

  In a way that I wasn’t quite sure about just yet.

  I was sure, given time, that I could get used to those chills—and that’s what scared me.

  “Where are you going?” Mina asked from the couch.

  She was laying there, her arm up high over her head, with her daughter asleep on her belly.

  “I’m going to help Fender’s niece sell Girl Scout cookies,” I said. “Do you…”

  “Does she have any?” Mina sat up, her arms placed protectively over her daughter’s back and head.

  I hid my grin as I walked to my shoes and slipped them on.

  It was eighty degrees out. In February.

  But, that was the way of the South.

  I didn’t much care. I loved wearing flip-flops and shorts. The hotter, the
better, in my opinion.

  Tunnel, my brother, who’d been asleep in the recliner when I went to answer the door, cracked open his eye and stared at his wife as she deposited his daughter into his lap.

  He’d been gone all night due to a case he’d caught a break in late yesterday evening, and he’d just gotten home an hour ago.

  “Weren’t you just telling me yesterday that you wanted to fit into those pants…”

  Mina shot him a withering glare.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I thought you said you wanted me to remind you of your promise to lose weight…”

  She hissed at him. “I told you this when it came to me eating out. This isn’t eating out. This is eating in.”

  Her logic was strong. I agreed with her there.

  The execution…well, that could use some work.

  “If that’s what you want to tell yourself…” he grunted, then closed his eyes, moving his daughter up until she was tucked just beneath his chin.

  His daughter didn’t even make a peep, and I found myself grinning.

  My newest niece was a doll, and she was one of the best babies I’d ever had the pleasure of being in the presence of.

  I turned to find Fender standing in the middle of the living room. He was looking at Mina with amusement as she handed over forty dollars. “Give me the Thin Mints.”

  “She just bought all the boxes that I have,” the girl said weakly.

  Mina’s head whipped around. “You bitch!”

  “Language!” I pointed at the little girl.

  Mina’s face colored. “I’m sorry, Fender.”

  He shrugged. “Her dad’s an oil hand. Trust me, she’s heard worse.”

  The girl started nodding.

  “I bought them for you, anyway,” I said, pulling out my wallet and fishing out the cash that I had. “You can help me pay for them, though. I only have twenty-five.”

  After learning what else was owed, Mina handed over the cash, and then took the boxes of cookies from the girl, who’d pulled her little red wagon into the living room behind her.

  “You need to have her carrying way more than that,” I said. “Where are the extras?”

  Tobias looked down at the girl.

  “Are they at your dad’s, or your mom’s, Leida?”

  Leida shrugged. “I think that they’re at Mom’s. But she was supposed to take them over to Dad’s today while I was at school.”