The Goodbye Guy (The Men of Lakeside)

by Natasha Moore

  Bud brought them their beers, but they didn’t have time to enjoy them. He could tell the instant she changed, when she turned on that Rachel Bradford persona. A few people at the bar had pulled out their phones to take pictures of her. She straightened her shoulders, tossed her hair, and flashed a bright smile. Her body shifted away from him, no longer touching his.

  It was just as well. He’d never act on his attraction to TV-star Rachel. That kiss last night was just a moment of weakness. She wasn’t a normal everyday Lakeside resident he could build a relationship with, and there was no sense in pretending or wishing things were different. She was here to do a job and so was he.

  …

  For one stupid moment, Rachel had let herself forget. Let herself believe she could share a moment with Beckett without her celebrity interfering. Which was doubly stupid because the only reason she was here with him at all was to take advantage of her celebrity. To grow it. To be seen and photographed and talked about.

  Right now she’d rather be anywhere else. In fact, right now she could appreciate his attitude toward cameras. Stupid.

  She took a deep drink. Hopefully half the people who’d taken the photos would post them online and Stu would be satisfied. She wanted to get back to Beckett’s and talk design. But before she could suggest they leave, Beck groaned. “Ginny is waving us over.”

  “What?”

  Beckett nodded to the dining room. Ginny was waving her arms, a huge grin on her face. She liked Ginny, but she wasn’t alone at the table. Besides two guys she didn’t recognize, there was a woman she did. Rachel hadn’t seen Lucy Park since their fight on graduation night, but she was sure that petite redhead wearing a frown was her.

  “I know we have work to do,” Beckett told her, “but we should at least go over and say hi.”

  She wanted to say they didn’t have time. She wanted to be a coward. But she hadn’t gotten to where she was now by hiding from confrontation. And comments like Rachel Bradford thinks she’s too good to eat with us or Rachel Bradford ignores old friends posted on social media weren’t the kind of drama Stu was looking for.

  A confrontation with a local who’d told Rachel she hated her—that probably wasn’t what Stu had in mind, either.

  She groaned and grabbed her glass. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

  Rachel pasted a smile on her face as the eyes of everyone in the dining room followed them across the floor. But when they reached the round table, her lower lip trembled from Lucy’s hard expression. She supposed it was too much to hope she’d been forgiven.

  She cleared her throat before she could speak. “Hi, Luce.”

  “Well, look who showed up,” Lucy said with a sneer. “If they didn’t know better, someone would think you cared.”

  “Oh, stop, Lucy,” Ginny said. “Come on, guys, sit down.”

  “Just for a minute,” Beckett said. He introduced Rachel to Sam Hernandez, the local small animal vet, and Todd Sherman, who worked on one of the Colburn and Sons crews.

  They’d pulled in a couple more chairs to the table and made room for Beck and Rachel. The remnants of chicken wings and pizza littered the table.

  “You hungry?” Sam asked them.

  Rachel shifted awkwardly in her chair. “No. We can’t stay long.”

  “I was telling them all about you filming an episode of The Rachel Touch in Lakeside,” Ginny told her. “Are you going to film inside Colburn and Sons, too?”

  “Probably.”

  Ginny squealed. “I might get on TV?”

  Rachel couldn’t help but grin. “Probably.”

  “Sweet!” Todd chimed in. “Think they’ll want to film a salvage? Make sure I’m on the crew. I’m very photogenic.”

  Everyone around the table groaned.

  Todd frowned. “Everyone says so.”

  “They’re not coming here to film a salvage,” Beck said. He turned to Rachel with a look of horror on his face. “Tell me they’re not going to film a salvage.”

  “No clue. My producer makes those calls.”

  Lucy crossed her arms. “Your producer,” she said, sarcasm dripping from the words. “You know there are many more important careers than fancying up houses on TV.” Rachel’s jaw dropped, but Lucy went on before she could say anything. “My husband was a pediatrician. He saved babies’ lives. He died last year, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Because you haven’t been here.”

  “W…wow.” Rachel stuttered, her stomach sinking. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Not many of us can become doctors,” Beckett said firmly. “Rachel is talented and she’ll be helping me get my business up and running. But owning a bar isn’t up there with saving lives, either, is it?”

  Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes. Rachel shouldn’t have come tonight. She didn’t belong here. She glanced around at all the interested diners nearby. Rachel Bradford made widow cry. This wasn’t the kind of drama Stu had in mind. And it sure wasn’t the kind she wanted, either.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy said. She locked her gaze with Rachel, but she’d dropped her hands to her lap. “That wasn’t fair of me. To any of you.” She started to rise. “I should just go home.”

  Ginny stopped her. “Stay a little longer.”

  “It’s hard to see you again,” Lucy told Rachel. “You hurt a lot of people when you left.”

  “I didn’t think anyone would care,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

  “Well, you were wrong. So now you’ll use us for your show and then ignore us for another twenty years?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Rachel hated that her old friend could be right, and that she never even realized she’d hurt anyone. “I’m sorry.”

  Lucy shrugged and sat back. At least she didn’t say she hated her. But it didn’t matter. Rachel wasn’t coming back to Lakeside again. She was here to do a job, not to reunite with old friends. Time to get back to work. “Hey, Ginny, why don’t you take a few pictures?”

  “Sure.” Ginny took out her phone and started taking pictures of Rachel and her former friends.

  Beck frowned at Rachel. “Why do you want her taking photos now?”

  Ginny frowned back at Beck. “Everyone else in town is doing it. Might as well get a little promo for the business.”

  Rachel shrugged. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,” he murmured while Ginny gathered everyone together for a group selfie.

  Rachel found herself pressed against Beckett, cheek to cheek. He smelled so good, his beard soft against her skin. She pulled away as soon as she could, before she longed to linger.

  Raucous laughter burst out from one of the tables nearby. A loud voice carried easily to their table. “Hey, isn’t that the famous Rachel Bradford over there? You guys think she’s still stripping for the Colburns?”

  “Fuck,” Beckett cursed.

  Rachel glared at him. “Are they friends of yours?”

  “Former friends,” Beckett ground out. “The loudmouth is Clint Fowler, over there with his twin, Brent. They think they’re still eighteen.”

  She remembered them. “So everyone hasn’t forgotten,” she muttered. What would Stu think about that story? He’d probably love it, but he’d no doubt spin the story to put Beckett in a bad light.

  “Hell, that’s probably how she got that TV show.” That was Clint’s twin, Brent. “Bet she stripped her way to the top with that Rachel touch.”

  Rachel turned cold. Not that she hadn’t heard talk like that before, but not in front of people she grew up with. Beck started to rise, his face red with anger, but Rachel caught his hand. “Don’t.”

  “Ignore them,” Lucy said softly. Then raising her voice, she added, “They’re ignorant jackasses.”

  Rachel was moved that Lucy stood up for her, but she wanted to g
et out of there before things got out of hand.

  “Hey, maybe that’s where Beck disappeared to.” Clint laughed. “Looking for more of those touches.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Rachel asked.

  Before anyone could answer her, she recognized Herb McNabb, the former postmaster for Lakeside, approaching. He had to be eighty-five if he was a day. He stopped at the Fowler brothers’ table. “If you boys are going to start trouble, you can get the hell out of here. There are a lot of people trying to have a nice meal in here.”

  “We’re just having a little bit of fun,” Clint whined.

  “No, what you’re having is a whole lot of mean. You boys are old enough to know better. So keep your mouths shut or leave.”

  They grumbled but turned back to their beers and burgers.

  Rachel sent a grateful look Herb’s way. He tipped his head as he walked by their table.

  “Assholes,” Ginny murmured.

  “We have to go.” Rachel pushed her chair back. But as they said their goodbyes and walked out, she wondered how many comments on social media would be spreading the rumors of what happened that night in the fire station. And what kind of drama that would add to their lives.

  Chapter Seven

  “Another reminder why I stayed away from Lakeside.” Rachel stopped in front of the display window of Helen’s gift shop, next door to Bud’s, and stared at nothing. “That’s the kind of publicity we don’t need.”

  There had to be a way to make a bigger splash, a bigger buzz. Something that would drown out the gossip of the past.

  Beckett came up behind her. He put his warm, strong hands on her shoulders and caught her reflection in the window glass. “I wish I’d never said anything that night. Then Clint Fowler wouldn’t have opened his big mouth tonight.”

  “He said you disappeared?”

  He made a lazy shrug and dropped his hands. “Traveled around for a while. I sure never told the Fowlers where I went.”

  Huh. She didn’t know why she assumed Beck had never left Lakeside. She wanted to ask him where he went and why, but she didn’t need to know. She might want to, but there was no drama there. Stu needed drama.

  The sun was setting, the sidewalk dappled with shadows from the trees and the rooflines from the buildings behind them. She turned around to face him, and the attraction she’d felt since she came back to town wrapped around her and gave her a nudge, an idea of how to put a little drama into their evening.

  “Truth or Dare?” The words flew from her mouth before she could talk herself out of it.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. Truth or Dare.”

  “Didn’t you get into trouble playing that game before?”

  “Lucy’s the one who gave me the dare that night. But now I’m the one asking the question.”

  He frowned. “Then go back inside and play it with her.”

  Rachel wanted to feel in control again. She didn’t like feeling she had no control when she was around Beckett. “You have to choose. Truth or Dare.”

  He sighed. “I don’t know…dare.”

  “Kiss me.” She didn’t know what she would have said if he’d chosen truth, but she’d never considered they’d ever be completely truthful with each other.

  Beckett glanced around them. “Right here? Right now? There’s probably someone out there with a cell phone waiting for you to do something outrageous like kiss the guy you’re going to be working with.”

  That’s the whole point. Drama.

  Now that she’d demanded his kiss, her mouth watered and her lips tingled with anticipation. She curled her fingers into his shirt. “Kiss me.”

  He didn’t move, studied her for a moment.

  “I dare you,” she whispered. She wished she could see his eyes, but the sun had dipped below the horizon. The streetlight was behind him and his face was in the shadows.

  “Rachel…” He slipped one arm around her waist and tugged her close. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she moaned from the tasty mix of yeasty beer and hungry man. His beard was soft against her skin. Her fingers tightened on his shirt and she parted her lips because she needed to taste him even more, needed the added sensation of his tongue tangling, rubbing with hers.

  She pressed against him as the tingles shooting through her body grew, pulsed. Before she knew it, she was straddling one of his hard thighs, rocking against him, upping the friction as she throbbed between her legs.

  A car beeped its horn and they jumped apart. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. Why did she keep making mistakes with him? A kiss was one thing. The last thing she should be caught doing was humping Beckett Colburn’s leg.

  “Let’s get back to your house. The tablet’s in my car or I’d show you the design right now and get it over with. I’m ready to call it a night.” She strode toward Beckett’s car, then looked over her shoulder. Beckett hadn’t moved. “What’s the matter?”

  He shook his head, then started her way. “Nothing. Just a little hard for me to walk at the moment.”

  “Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Her face heated. “I don’t know what got into me.” She could never let him know she’d kissed him in the hopes that the pictures went viral.

  It didn’t take long to get to Beckett’s house. Rachel couldn’t help but remember that there was no daughter to play chaperone for the two of them tonight. Her body was still buzzing from the desire that had built while they kissed. It had been only a few seconds, but that’s all it had taken. To be attracted to the guy she’d hated for so many years was unexpected. Unbelievable.

  They’d agreed last night that just because there was some sort of attraction between them, it didn’t mean it was a good idea to act on it. What if they did have sex and it became a distraction? She had to keep her focus on this project. The make-or-break episode.

  Anyway, what if the sex was awful? She wasn’t going to be there that long, but it could make the situation extremely awkward working together. Again, a distraction she didn’t need.

  And what if they had amazing sex and things were great…and then they weren’t? The camera would pick up the tension. That would be the worst kind of publicity. Embarrassing. No, some public affection to build buzz was one thing, but it was better to keep things strictly business.

  She grabbed her tablet from her rental car and followed Beckett into the house. His tight butt and long legs caught her notice. The dog barked for attention as soon as they stepped through the door. He picked up Mocha and the sight of his large hand cradling that tiny dog made her tremble. Awful sex? She couldn’t imagine that ever being the case.

  Focus. No distractions. This is business.

  They sat on the sofa again, elbows rubbing, thighs touching. She pulled up the Salvage Station folder on her tablet and passed it to Beckett. She wanted to shift away so she wasn’t touching his tempting bod, but she needed to see what he was looking at and be able to comment, so she leaned against him, like she’d been aching to.

  “Give it time to sink in before you say anything,” she told him. “I took what we’d talked about yesterday and added some other things I found online. I located a source for the old fire helmets. I think they’d look great hanging on the wall at the end of the bar.”

  “What do you have planned for the wall by the restrooms?”

  “I’m sure I can find something in the showroom to hang there.”

  “The restroom entrances are opposite the pole, next to the stairs. Be fun to have the fire helmets there.”

  “Good idea.”

  She took back the tablet for a moment and made a note. Then she pointed out where the ducting would go. The seating she’d planned. And where they’d hang the recycled industrial lighting.

  He studied the entire plan then glanced at her. “You’re going to put in landscaping, too? And the sign out front?”r />
  “All part of the service.”

  “Everything is handicapped accessible?”

  “Of course.”

  He went back to studying the plan, as if he were looking for something to complain about.

  “I told your family I’d bring the design in tomorrow so they can check it out.”

  His expression darkened. “What? You already talked to them?”

  She leaned away. “They wanted to be kept in the loop.”

  His fingers tightened on the tablet. “This is my bar. You need to go through me. Not my family.”

  “Stu told me the agreement was with Noah. I technically should be going through him for all of this.”

  He shoved the tablet into her hands and surged to his feet. “I’m the one in front of the damn camera, right?”

  He towered over her but she didn’t feel threatened. She knew this was difficult for him. “Right.”

  “Then I’m the one to make the decisions.” He slapped his big hand onto his chest. “Me. And I want to be there when it’s discussed with anyone else. Got that?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. I got it.”

  “Good. I want to be there when you go over everything with them in the morning. Can you come in first thing?”

  “Of course.”

  His tone softened. “Look, it’s a sore subject with me. I’m the youngest, and the rest of the family still treats me that way.”

  There was that chip on his shoulder she’d noticed earlier. “When I talk with your family, they speak of you with respect. I don’t get the sense that they don’t trust you. They just want to know what’s going on.”

  “You didn’t grow up with them.”

  She raised a brow. “No. I grew up with parents who just outright told me what to do and how to do it.”

  He sent her a wry smile. “Point taken.”