Well then.

Beau let out his own huff of frustration, as his hand reached up to scratch his beard. Nothing in his statement was intended to imply she was a child, but only to ensure she wasn't falling in with him because her heart was once again broken. It was a rational, logical question to raise given the state she'd been in only a few weeks prior. How was she too dense to recognize that?

"You're anything but a child, Eva, though right now you're surely acting like one," he rebutted, his own temper flaring. "Just weeks ago you were in my bed crying because of another man, you cannot blame me for wonderin' if your feelins are sincere." Beau's American accent was noticeably heavier as he spoke, his frustration evident with every word. Fletcher was getting pummelled the next time Beau laid eyes on him, he didn't care if the attack was seen as random or not. Months of suppressing his thoughts towards Eva and it was all going to be ruined by an idiot too stupid to realize what he lost.

Beau huffed again in a futile attempt to simmer down. "You say you know what you want. I've yet to see anything proving otherwise."