“You didn’t like the wine?” Peter asked, his glance at Beck showing a little bit of an edge.
“It was fine. I just don’t drink alcohol,” Ginger said, her cheeks tinted a little red as she glanced at Pete and gave him a smile. “No worries.”
“Wait.” Peter snapped his gaze back and forth between the two of them, his face screwed up in the universal expression for confusion. “You guys know each other?”
Biblically. Beck thought and clamped his mouth down to keep from saying it out loud.
“I just figured the hospital…” Peter’s voice trailed off as the air around them crackled with everyone’s concerted effort to not give away just how well he and Ginger knew each other. And in that instant, Beck knew that they all knew every dirty detail. Everyone except poor Pete.
“Beck and I knew each other briefly when we were in law school,” Ginger said, taking a deep drink from the club soda handed over to her by the waiter. “He was in medical school at UVA.”
“I don’t remember coming across many med students when we were there,” Peter said.
“I saw Ginger across the lawn one day and I made sure that I met her,” Beck said, locking eyes with Ginger and giving her a smile at the memory. “I made a fool of myself until she was forced to acknowledge that I was even alive.”
She rolled her eyes at his comment and took a sip to hide the hint of a smile on her lips. His skin zinged with pleasure at this tiny fracture in her wall of stone.
“And did she?” Peter asked, his glance bouncing back between the two of them. “Acknowledge you?”
Beck grinned at Ginger, remembering the afternoon she finally spoke to him. It was a great day. “Yes, she did.”
“I see.”
It was the tenor to his voice that sobered Beck, ripping him out of his memories and back to the present where he was doing one of the things he never did: hit on another man’s date.
Bad fucking form.
Even if he did know her first.
Even if he wanted to get to know her again. Up close and very personal.
Lucky rescued him. “Michaela and Beck.” He raised his glass and made a toast. “Congratulations on an amazing first year of DRAGON Slayers. You’ve done things with these kids, for these kids, that other people just talk about. You guys rock.”
Everyone around them copied his gesture and raised a glass to the two of them. Beck leaned over and pulled the blushing Michaela into a one-armed hug, kissing her cheek.
“Hey, keep your lips off my wife, Sutherland,” Jack grumbled, his grin making his threat completely useless.
“I can’t help it if your wife likes me better.”
Michaela ignored them both. “It’s not me, Lucky. I just added some of my father’s fat cat donors to the mailing list. Everything about DRAGON Slayers is all Beck. He created it, staffed it, begged for donations of time and money. This is all him.”
Beck shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at the group of people surrounding him and their faces full of undeserved pride for him, in him. He had a long way to go before he earned their toasts, their respect. Helping a handful of kids was not enough.
The band, a local favorite, started up behind him and saved him from this moment. Perfect timing. He’d make sure they got an extra tip at the end of the evening. Couples shifted around him, casting glances in his direction as they looked longingly at the dance floor. He might not be good at all this social stuff but he knew enough to understand that somebody had to get this party started and as one of the co-hosts, it was up to him.
Beck surprised himself when he put his glass down and extended his hand to Ginger.
“Dance with me?”
“What?” Ginger and Pete both spoke at the same time. She flushed a pretty pink on her cheeks and he went a deeper shade of get-the–hell-away-from-my-date red.
“Beck,” Ginger stammered out, her voice low and breathy but her glare was piercing. “I have a date…”
“Pete, if I can borrow Ginger for this dance, I’d really appreciate it. I’m stag tonight and as one of the hosts I really should kick off the dancing part of the night.”
He couldn’t refuse without looking like a dick and Beck knew it. Knew the moment Pete realized it, too. Poor guy. Pete had no idea that he’d stepped in the middle of something that hadn’t reached its shelf life. Hell, Beck didn’t totally understand it but he was compelled to find out where it went. He hoped that was in his bed. Or her bed. Just soon.
“Sure. Anything to support a good cause,” Pete said, releasing Ginger. The final say was hers, that much was clear as they stood looking at her. Her expression was thoughtful, as she considered them both, likely wondering what was the catch.
“Anything to support the cause,” she said as she gave one brisk nod and handed her drink over to Pete.
Beck reached out to put a hand on her lower back but she sidestepped him, weaving through the few couples in between them and dance floor. He found a spot for them and reached out, grasping her waist and pulling her in close. If it was possible for the human body to become an immovable statue, Ginger was making it happen.
“Relax,” he leaned down to murmur into her ear, inhaling the sweet scent of her and enjoying the quick inhale of breath she made when his lips brushed the outer shell of her ear. “We can’t get into too much trouble out here on the dance floor. Not like this afternoon.”
“I am not sleeping with you, Beckett,” Ginger hissed, low and urgent as she pulled back to shoot him her best death ray eyes.
“Well, not here, obviously.” He chuckled at her outrage, ignoring the warning signals of her nails digging lightly into his shoulder.
“Nowhere.” She glanced around to see if any of the other couples were listening to them. “This afternoon was the result of shock. Everything got out of control, but that won’t happen again.” She nodded her head in punctuation to her statement, as if she were closing out that conversation thread. He’d always thought it was a cute little thing she did, and he wondered if she did that in court or meetings. “I will not sleep with you.”
Ginger had no idea what she was giving away with her comments. She’d always thought that it was mind over matter in all things. She’d forgotten that he’d proven that wrong, over and over again.
“There are some things that even a woman as strong as you cannot control.” Beck tugged her closer, making sure that every inch of her felt every inch of him, especially the part that was responding to the memory of this afternoon. “But, I’ll let you control me, Ginger. Any way you want. Anytime you want. For as long as you want.” He moved his face in closer, diving in quick to press a kiss against her throat, savoring the shiver that ran through her. “And the sooner you accept it, the better off we’ll both be.”
Chapter Ten
She didn’t know whether she should kiss him or hit him.
Ginger pulled back, wanting to get a good look at his face, needing all the facts to figure out a plan of attack even though her best option was to continue to avoid and dodge the avalanche of questions and memories that seemed to follow them around. Beckett made her feel things, made her want to do things that terrified her while they excited her. He wasn’t good for her, she knew this.
He challenged her carefully constructed boundaries, her plans at every turn.
Changing the subject was the best option.
“DRAGON Slayers is a great organization. Michaela said you are doing amazing things in the community.”
He looked over her shoulder, his body tensing a little at her comment. “It’s not enough, but it’s a start.”
“Not enough?” She began naming all the things she knew about. “The mobile health clinic, tutoring, partnering with the local girl and boy scouts…”
“Okay. Okay.”
“DRAGON,” she ignored his discomfort. This was a side of Beck that was…unexpected. And intriguing. “What does it mean?”
“Each letter stands for a principle for the kids to follow.
Something for them to use as a compass.”
“Tell me.” He stared at her, his eyes searching her own with a “really” expression. She refused to break eye contact. “If you want me to write a modestly-large-for-someone-who-works-for-a-living-check…tell me.”
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Extortionist.”
“I’ve been called worse. I’m a lawyer, remember?”
Since Beckett had been thrown back into her life, her curiosity about who he was and why they’d imploded were always just under the surface. But the Beck who founded and ran this amazing charity? He didn’t answer anything for her. He just generated a whole new set of questions.
He sighed, maneuvering them as he navigated them through the growing crowd on the dance floor. “D is for dream big, R is for respect yourself and others, A is for achieve, G is for give of your talents, O is for open your mind, and N is for never give up.”
“Wow. Those are…really big words.”
“Underprivileged kids from around here need to dig deep to get out and make something of themselves.” His brown eyes were thoughtful, his jaw tight. “They need help, too. Just a hand, someone to believe in them.”
She nodded, trying to catch all the emotions that flickered across his face. It was impossible, his level of control was impressive and she knew what she was talking about.
“And someone helped you?” she clarified. “When you were a kid?”
“Yes.”
If his one-word answer didn’t tell her that the conversation thread was closed, his tone did.
“And DRAGON?” she asked, choking off the urge to lower her hand from his shoulder and touch the part of him covered by his tattoo. She stared at him, waiting out his silence, willing him answer her. She needed to understand him and then maybe she could figure out what had happened and what was going on between them now.
Because this guy? The guy who started this charity? The guy who saved people at the hospital? Who helped kids gunned down on the street? That guy was someone she wanted to know better. Someone who touched something other than her libido.
“Someone’s got to slay them,” he answered, his smile was almost too quick to capture and not quite reaching his eyes. Beck looked over her shoulder, nodding to a couple that passed by. He surprised her with the change in topic. “So, you and Pete?”
Ginger tried to pull away from his hold but he tightened his arm around her waist. She didn’t want to talk about her. Or Peter. Or them.
Because that is where this would be going. She knew it.
“I’m only asking because you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend before you put your hands down my pants earlier today.”
That got her attention. She snapped her eyes back to his. His face was harder, his eyes searching.
“Because I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a guy who gets in the middle of things.”
“Middle of things?” She let out a little of the anger that flared in her chest. “Am I the type of woman who would let you get in the middle of things?”
He paused, answering carefully. “No.”
“This is our first date if you don’t count the coffee we had the week before I moved here.”
“So you aren’t a thing?”
Ginger debated where to go with this. She’d worked very hard to construct a life for herself that was drama-free, steady, and calm. She was in control. It worked.
Nowhere did her plan have room for a Beck-sized tornado. She could lie but that wasn’t her.
“We could be. I don’t know.” She swallowed hard, needing to find that area that straddled reality and her dreams. “Peter is a nice man.”
Beck huffed out a scoff at her words but he didn’t break eye contact.
“He’s stable and normal. What you see with him is what you get,” she explained, rankled that she had offered any justification at all.
“He sounds like a good used car,” Beck drawled, his arms tightening on her and pulling her even closer. A little too close for a friendly dance between old friends. It made her body flush with heat, made her breasts grow heavy with wanting this man. Beck showing back up in her life now was the worst timing ever.
She ignored his comment. “He sounds like the kind of man I need in my life.”
“You mean he’s safe.”
“Yes,” she answered, making sure he heard the steel in her voice. She hoped to God that he didn’t hear the tremor that vibrated in her throat. “He is safe. I want safe.”
“You want to hide again, to put up the walls and shut out feeling anything because you can’t put it in a box and lock it down.”
So they were being honest? She could do that. “The last time I unlocked the box Pandora pretty much kicked my ass. I got hurt. Pretty badly if I recall.”
“That was…” he stumbled over the words, his gaze clouded now with regret. She was surprised to see it there, flinching when her gut twisted with the realization of how sorry he was. “I’m sorry for that. Hurting you.”
She cut him off, her anger mixing with the desire to dip her toes back into the whirlpool of their heady, sexual chemistry. This afternoon when she’d acted so rashly, so emotionally, she’d created a fracture in her protective shell that needed to be repaired. With the way that Beck had been looking at her all evening, she needed him to back off if she had any chance of keeping him at arm’s length.
“Beck, it’s what I need. Not reckless. Not over-the-top. Not breathless. Not surprising.” She sucked in a deep breath and tried to regulate her emotions. “I don’t need fireworks. I don’t need rollercoasters. I don’t need ambulance rides that require a police escort.”
He stopped in mid-step to the music. It was just a split second and didn’t even ruin their rhythm but she felt it with the impact of a car hitting a concrete wall. Like a collision on the freewayjarring and painful. His eyes were dark with his emotions. Hurt-lined understanding swam in their depths and made her want to look away but she dug down deep and maintained eye contact.
“It sounds like the thing you don’t need in your life is me.” He started their gentle sway again, letting his breath out in a whoosh and a shake of the head. “You don’t pull any punches.”
She gentled her tone. “I’m not trying to hurt you but you know what I need in my life. The kind of man I need.” Ginger swallowed hard, the next part was hard to admit. “And I know you know why.”
Another pause and then he nodded. “I do.”
Beck had seen firsthand what her home life had been like. Two people who loved deeply and ferociously but hurt each other at every turn. Her mother, fragile and leaning on the bottle and desperately in love with a man she could not pin down and was terrified of losing. Her father, non-stop energy, bravado, daring, and a personality that pulled everyone to him like a moth to flame. But he could also be selfish when it came to considering the people in his life who cared about him. He didn’t set out to hurt anyone but he didoften. In many ways, he was just like Beckett.
Yeah. She had daddy issues and the first step to dealing with them was acknowledging them and not following the path of destruction her parents had acted out on a daily basis. Especially when there was a part of her that reminded Ginger of her mother, the part that had fallen for Beckett all those years ago and then grieved the loss of him so acutely that she terrified herself.
“You’ve told me what you think you need, Ginger. You rattle them off like they are requirements on a checklist. But you haven’t told me what you want,” he said, low and intimate, as if they were the only two people on the planet. “Do you want the fireworks? Do you want the rollercoaster? Is that what you need to be happy?” He moved in even closer, his voice sliding over her flesh like a piece of raw silk. “What do you want?”
Oh, hell. She wanted him. He knew it but she couldn’t say it. The words were the last vestige of her defense. The last line in the sand that she would not cross.
But her body was a traitor and she found herself leaning in and he
moved toward her. His eyes slid down to her mouth and her lips parted slightly, an invitation in the tiny movement that he did not miss.
The end of the song, clapping for the band from the other dancers snapped them out of the crazy fog of each other. Ginger blinked, stepping back and out his arms with a little jump. Once the physical connection was broken she could breathe, her limbs waking up as if they had been asleep or under his spell. Beck rolled his shoulders, flexing his hands and fingers like a fighter prepping for the ring.
They stared at each other. On her part, she was unable to look away. He was so…mesmerizing.
“Beck, I’m going to claim my date back,” Peter said as he approached, interrupting the emotional eye fuck that was happening in the middle of the crowded dance floor.
Ginger fought off the automatic stiffening of her body as Peter slid his arm around her back. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Peter but standing here with desire for Beckett making her skin sensitive was disconcerting. She wasn’t the type of woman who played the field and even though there was nothing going on with Beckett, she felt like being here with Peter was wrong.
“Sure Pete,” Beckett said as he extended his hand to Peter with a smile. “It was a chance for us to get caught up. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. It’s good to know that my girl will have someone looking out for her here.”
Ginger’s gaze snapped to Peter and it took every bit of her control to keep her mouth from gaping open. His girl?
Beckett’s eyebrows raised a tiny fraction but the grin twisting his mouth couldn’t be missed. Peter had just done the absolute wrong thing, he’d given Beckett a challenge.
“I didn’t realize it was that serious.”
“Well…” Peter pulled her closer and smiled down at her and then returned his gaze to Beckett. “Like you said, it’s bad timing, but I don’t plan on letting her get away.”
Southerin Nights and Secrets (Boys are Back in Town) Page 8
