Beatty & The Beast

THIRTY: Where the Beast is Haunted

The same night

Like they had done many days before, Keefe and Andie laid splayed on their backs staring at the luminous sky above their meadow. This time, the sky had changed from a periwinkle sea brushed with drifting clouds to a midnight ocean glittering with stars.

The teens couldn't decide which scene was better and thus opted to be enchanted by both equally.

Their star-gazing had not begun without some ceremony. Before Andie could even consider laying down she had to detach her bustle from the back of her dress and take off the voluminous underskirt. Then the wig was unpinned and removed followed by a slow and meticulous peeling away of her mask masterpiece. Finally, the sharp winged collar was detached and tossed onto the pile of dress scraps.

Once free of the frills, she could spread out on the grass, smiling as Keefe's arm ended up underneath her neck and his hand ran gentle fingers through her hair. As they watched the stars and fumbled to remember which constellation was which, they spoke in soft tones, respecting the lovely silence of the night.

They spoke mostly of their new summer venture, making millions of little plans and not caring how silly or small they were. With every plan and every possibility, their Great Escape only seemed more solid, more attainable, more real.

As they planned and dreamed and gazed, Keefe continued to stroke her hair.

Time ticked on and soon their tones began to get softer and their conversation sparse. The muscles in their bodies were at perfect ease and sleep was approaching.

"We should probably go," Keefe's voice came out muted, slow. His eyes were closed. He made no move to leave.

"No," Andie replied. "Absolutely not."

"But your uncle and Mrs. Featherstone," he argued weakly, stroking her hair and falling deeper into a daze, "they'll be worried."

"I told them I'd be out all night," she said, shifting closer to him, "they trust both of us completely."

"So you planned this," he made a sleepy gesture to the meadow. "You planned for us to end up like this."

"Actually, if we're to get technical, I planned for us to be having a whole lot of sex right now," she smiled against his chest. "So, it's not exactly what I planned but it works."

Keefe sighed. "I'm such a dream crusher."

"That you are." Andie continued to shift until she was pressed up against the length of his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm resting on his torso and her finger scribbling lazily on his chest.

"And if you're worried about your dad," she added, "don't be. You're eighteen for God's sake and Declan and Liam get to be out all night all the time, so he can't get mad."

Keefe smiled. His brothers had been spending their nights out way before they had hit eighteen, even when their mother was alive to disapprove of it. Cillian never blinked an eye when his elder sons disappeared for nights at a time, but it had always been different with Keefe. Cillian was always more protective, more worried, he always called if Keefe was later than he should be.

It was yet another reason for his brothers to resent him.

But Keefe knew the real reason Cillian fretted. He didn't want to lose the family caretaker. If Keefe wasn't around that meant he wouldn't be there to fix whatever problem came Cillian's way, and if he wasn't there to fix the problems then who would?

Keefe was glad he left his phone at home. At least he wouldn't have his father calling, wondering where he was and interrupting this night. The more he thought about it and the more she sidled up next to him, the more he wanted no interruptions, nothing to spoil it.