by S. E. Lund
“You are crazy,” I said, making a face.
“We’re going to Milano’s,” she said, her voice firm. “There’s a convention of Wall Street money managers and brokers at the Yacht Club for a retreat. You might meet a millionaire who likes his women with a bit of flesh on her bones and all your problems will be solved.”
Steve turned and watched us. “More likely to meet some hustler if they’re from Wall Street,” he said, disgust in his voice.
Leah shot him a look that could kill. Then she turned back to me and waved Steve off. She seemed so hopeful, as if Lady Luck was going to shine down on her any time.
On the other hand, I wasn’t so sure that something more in line with Murphy’s Law was more likely to be my fate. Besides, I couldn’t imagine meeting anyone more attractive and desirable than Beckett Tate. He said he was staying at the Yacht Club and was going to give a talk to a group of investors. Maybe he’d be at the club.
I thought of a little black number that hugged my curves and displayed my boobage, and decided to suck it up. I doubted I’d meet a millionaire that night, but I might have a dance or two and a drink on Leah’s credit card.
Beckett might even be there, but I didn’t say anything about him. Leah seemed to forget him and so I needed to as well.
Leah grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the bar. When we were out of earshot of Steve, she squeezed me.
“Seriously, Mira, you should just hook up with Beckett. He was seriously into you and would probably be really hot in bed.”
“I don’t know...”
“Oh, you!” She crossed her arms and stood her ground. “Honestly, Mira. The longer you wait to have sex with someone, the harder it’ll be.”
“I want it nice and hard,” I said and snorted at the look on her face.
She laughed with me for a moment but then turned serious. “Find someone. Get rid of your new virginity. Free yourself and move on. You know you have to do this eventually. If you pick up someone you’ll never see again and have really hot but meaningless sex, it won’t be such a huge deal when you do meet someone you like.”
I took in a deep breath. There were days when I craved feeling a man inside of me, but it was so hard to imagine being with anyone. I fantasized about faceless men in my bed, making me come, and frequently woke up in the middle of the night, my body convulsing from the dream alone.
I needed a man. Bad.
Leah was right.
But Beckett? I wasn’t so sure he was the right one. Despite being hot as hell, he was far too close to what I was used to.
He was too much like Dan.
We arrived at Milano’s late, and the party was already in progress, the laser lights flashing, the dubstep blaring. People danced in clusters on the dance floor and the tables were packed with well-dressed and well-heeled men and women in their mid-twenties to late thirties. Waitresses in black miniskirts and white tops threaded their way through the tables to deliver drinks, and the VJ danced to his music on the far wall.
The music got to me right away and I wanted to dance and celebrate but we had to get a drink first and the only thing I drank at these places was beer or vodka coolers. I’d heard too many stories about women getting roofied to drink anything else.
I stood by the bar while Leah ordered and paid for our drinks. I ordered a local craft beer and she had a Bud Light. While I waited for her, I glanced around the bar and was startled when I saw Beckett. I recognized the dirty blond hair but instead of being unruly as it had been earlier, it was combed back and looked stylish instead of wild. Instead of wearing faded jeans and a leather bomber jacket, he wore an impeccable black suit, crisp white shirt and silky black tie. He looked like a million bucks and was deep in conversation with two other well-dressed men. When he turned and glanced over in my direction, Holy Mother of God…
He looked stunning, his blond hair tucked behind his ears and touching his collar, dark blond scruff on his very square chin and jaw, and those blue-grey eyes... I almost drooled, but succeeded in holding it in and when he smiled at me, I managed to smile back without giggling.
But it took a great deal of effort.
If he was going to be there, and if he was going to be even half as determined as before, I didn’t know if I could resist.
At the same time, I glanced over and saw that Steve was there as well. He must have called in and got Kent to work at the last minute, because I could swear he had been on the schedule for the late shift.
He saw me and came right over, leaning in close.
“You look really nice tonight,” he said and glanced over me. “I don’t get to see you all dressed up very often.”
“Why are you here?” I said in confusion. “I thought you closed tonight.”
He shrugged. “I asked Kent to take my shift. He needs the money, so…”
I nodded. “Since I got accepted into the Intern program with the FBI,” I said, grinning, “Leah and I are out celebrating.”
“That’s right. I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you,” he said and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek, his lips lingering a bit too long. He pulled back and held onto my shoulder. “That’s amazing. Will you be in Manhattan or will you go to Virginia?”
“Manhattan,” I said and forced a smile. I pulled away, uncomfortable that he was still holding onto me. Luckily, the bartender returned with our drinks. I glanced over and saw that Beckett reached for his own beer from the table. We each picked up a bottle of the same brand of artisanal beer and when he noticed, he smiled and came right over, nodding to me and Steve.
Steve visibly bristled like he was angry that Beckett came over.
“Excellent taste in beer as well as bourbon,” he said to me in a very warm, sexy voice with just a hint of that Cajun accent. A grin cracked one side of his mouth and I wondered how it would feel on my various body parts, one in particular, which was currently perking up.
I held my beer up and we clinked the necks together. Leah was busy leaning over to speak to the cute Tall Dark and Handsome next to her.
“We meet again,” he said, looking at me and then at Steve.
“You’re back in town?” Steve said, his voice low.
“Yeah,” Beckett said and stood up a little straighter. Not only was Beckett taller than Steve, he was also bulkier. “I’m holding a retreat for my staff and Topsail Beach is a very nice place to be.” Beckett looked into my eyes and raised his eyebrows.
Steve said nothing. On my part, I felt a little thrill in my gut because of the way Beckett was looking at me. We stood smiling at each other, and I wished Steve would get a clue and leave us alone.
“It’s like Fate is pushing us together,” Beckett said. “Who am I to argue with Fate?”
Steve harrumphed at that and finally turned away.
“What are you doing here?” I said, glancing over him, noting his impeccable suit and tie. “I thought you were at a retreat…”
“Like I said,” he said and smiled. “I’d tell you but I’d have to kill you.”
I laughed and took a sip. “Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll give up on the interrogation.”
“Just kidding,” he said, as if thinking better of his Mr. Mysterious ploy. “Our session for the day was over and we have the evening off. I’m here with a few of my staff,” he said. “But I’m glad to see you here. They want to talk shop and I’m fed up to my craw with work. I need a pleasant distraction. So tell me,” he said and leaned his elbow against the bar. “What are you doing in Topsail Beach?” He leaned a bit closer to me, his gaze moving over me.
“It’s a long story,” I said, not really wanting to explain.
“I have all night.” He tilted his head. “Want to go somewhere quiet? We could…talk.”
I couldn’t help but snort at that. “Talk…” I said in disbelief while my mind went through all the delicious possibilities.
“I’m serious,” he said, putting on an innocent expression. “Why would you doubt me? There’s a coffee shop
down the street where we could sit and talk. And of course, it’s incredibly convenient because the Yacht Club is just a half block away and my room is upstairs…”
“I just got here,” I said in protest, although leaving with him right then and there sounded fantastic. “I came to dance and have fun. Besides, I’m here with Leah.”
At that, he frowned. “She can’t look after herself?”
When I didn’t respond, he stepped closer. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” I said and was almost going to tell him about Dan, but I stopped myself.
“Whew,” he said and wiped his brow dramatically. He grinned. “For a moment there I thought it would be sabers at dawn.”
I laughed out loud at that. One thing was certain – Beckett was not shy about indicating his interest in me.
He was definitely interested.
“So, Miranda,” he said and leaned closer. “Since you’re here to dance and have fun, care to dance?”
I held up my beer. “Just got this,” I said. “Don’t like to leave a drink around just in case. You know,” I said, then grimaced internally at my scintillating conversation, which hinted at anything but being fun.
He nodded. “Tell you what,” he said and took the beer out of my hand. “You dance with me now, and I promise I’ll buy you a fresh one.”
I glanced over at Leah, who was busy flirting with her man.
Steve was standing beside us, staring at the bar like he was interested, but I was sure he was listening in.
“Sure,” I said and Beckett took my hand. He led me to the center of the dance floor and when we arrived, I saw that Steve was watching us, leaning against the bar, his brow furrowed.
We danced, the music blaring, the laser lights bouncing around like crazy.
“I won’t ask you if you come here often,” Beckett said, leaning down to speak into my ear. “I have to come up with better conversation than that.”
“I don’t come here often,” I answered back. “Leah does.”
“Are you from this area?” he said, staying close, leaning in. His eyes roved down my face to my cleavage. “North Carolina, I mean.”
“No,” I said. “I’m from Queens, New York.”
“Queens?” he said and made a face. “How did you end up here?”
I sighed. I really didn’t want to have to relate the whole business. “Circumstances,” I said and smiled.
“Okay. You don’t want me to know.”
“It’s a sad story, and I’m finished with sympathy and condolences.”
He nodded and touched my arm sympathetically. “I get it. So, how about I ask you your future plans.”
“Just got accepted as an intern for the FBI starting in January,” I said, unable to keep a huge smile off my face. “When I finish my degree, I hope to join the FBI if they’ll take me.”
“Wow. A woman of substance as well as looks. Why aren’t you taken?”
I shrugged. “I was.”
“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot for letting you slip away.”
I smiled but didn’t say anything.
“No one new on the horizon?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been a bit of a bookworm for the past year.”
He nodded. “Finishing your degree, huh?” He smiled. “Beauty and brains. My favorite combination. What are you studying?”
“Forensic Psychology.”
He nodded but said nothing more and I was out of small talk – thank God. My small talk needed work big time. I’d been out of the dating scene for… well, since I met Dan during my first year at CUNY when he was on leave and on a trip to visit his uncle in Manhattan. We were together from then on, with Dan spending every weekend he could with me or I’d travel down to his parent’s place in North Carolina. Before Dan, I’d been with my high school sweetheart who I met in my freshman year and dated until I started at CUNY.
Dating was not something I looked forward to.
I focused back on Beckett. What a gorgeous man… He was obviously interested in me and I felt a thrill of excitement go through me. I started classes in a few weeks, but I was going to have fun tonight. Serious research would commence then so until then, I was free.
We danced with nothing else being said for the music was really blaring now and I thought fuck it. When he put his hands on my hips and danced really close and sexy, swaying his own hips in time with mine, I put my hands on his shoulders and didn’t complain. I was definitely feeling it, my mind moving to where I’d like those hands to go next.
We danced for at least five songs and I was starting to get really heated, not only from the dancing, but by the incredibly sexy way he moved in closer, leaning down so his face was beside mine, his lips at my ear, his breath warm on my skin.
Then, out of the blue, Steve appeared at our side and leaned over to me.
“Care if I cut in?” he said to Beckett.
Beckett glanced at my face, but when I said nothing, he stepped back and bowed.
“Be my guest.” He shot me a meaningful glance and then turned back to the bar.
On my part, I turned to Steve and was frustrated. You didn’t cut in on people anymore. That was so antiquated. You waited until the person finished dancing and then you asked them to dance the next song. You didn’t cut in.
Unless you thought you had rights…
Did Steve somehow think he had rights to me?
Steve and I danced in silence for a few moments, and I wondered what the heck he was up to.
“Was there a reason you interrupted us when we were dancing? Some kind of important message or something?” I said, trying to keep the acid out of my voice.
“I don’t like him,” Steve said, leaning closer to me. “You know nothing about him.”
“I’m not marrying him,” I said. “I’m dancing with him.”
He sighed. “I care about you, Mira. I don’t want you to be hurt. That’s all.”
“I’m a big girl,” I said and glanced away. When the music shifted to another song, I was happy to stop dancing. I turned and went back to the bar, unsure if Steve was even following me.
Beckett was standing by himself at the bar, a fresh beer in his hand for me. I joined him and took the beer and we tapped bottles together lightly. He smiled while we each took a sip.
“Is he keeping watch over you?” Beckett said lightly.
“He thinks he’s my big brother,” I said and rolled my eyes.
Then, I forgot about Steve and stepped closer to Beckett. He also moved closer as well, his face just a few inches from mine.
“You’re a good dancer,” he said.
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
We smiled into each other’s eyes.
Damn… There was nothing about this man I didn’t like.
“Why not leave with me tonight?” he said, his elbow on the bar. “I promise to take you away from all this and make sure you don’t regret it.” Then he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over my bottom lip, bending down and then kissing me, his mouth warm on mine.
We kissed for a long moment and my knees were weak with the prospect of finding out what he meant. When he pulled back, ending the kiss, I looked around for Leah, but she was on the dance floor with her tall dark and handsome stranger. Steve was standing a few people down at the bar. I caught him watching us, and he quickly glanced away.
When I turned back to Leah, she caught my eye as the song ended and came back before I could respond, laughing, her man trailing behind her, hand in hand.
“Hey, Mira!” She pulled him over. “This is Brandon. Brandon, this is my best friend Mira.”
I smiled at Brandon “Nice to meet you.” I turned to Beckett, who was watching me from over the top of his beer. “This is Beckett,” I said and pointed to him.
“Mr. McNeil and I are old friends,” Brandon said.
I glanced at Brandon and then at Beckett. “McNeil?” I said, frowning. My back stiffened. “Strange how I thought you were
Cajun, not Irish...”
Had he lied to me? I saw his ID…
“I’m American. First Generation,” Beckett said. “Father was born in Northern Ireland, and I was born in Hell’s Kitchen. My parents separated when I was ten and I used my mother’s maiden name, which is Tate,” he said to Brandon, who nodded. “I use it for my business even though my legal name is McNeil.”
“Of course,” Brandon said and hit his forehead. “I forgot. Beckett Tate.” He turned to me almost pointedly. “We knew each other in the Marines.”
After a round of hellos, we stood there in silence. I didn’t know what to say. Had he lied? Or was it a case of using his mother’s name the way he said? He did say he had too many names…
Brandon took Leah’s hand and pulled her back towards the dance floor. “You said you wanted to dance your head off. Let’s go.”
She winked at me and the two left Beckett and me alone.
I didn’t know what to think but at that moment, I felt a sense of hesitation about any plans to go back to Beckett’s hotel to ‘talk.’
As if he sensed this, Beckett leaned in and whispered in my ear. “The music’s too loud. Want to get out of here and go someplace quieter? More … intimate?”
Steve’s warning came back to me. “I don’t know what to believe about you. CEO? DEA? McNeil? Who are you – really?”
“I told you I have too many names,” Beckett said. “I use Tate now, for my business, but back when I was in the Marines, I went by my legal name, which is McNeil. I didn’t mean to deceive you. It’s just complicated…”
He smiled and he looked so damn desirable and so hot in that expensive suit.
I’d been scoping him out when he wasn’t looking and admired once more his nice broad shoulders and how they pulled at the fabric of his jacket. I also noticed his nice narrow hips when he slipped a hand in his pocket and his jacket fell open. He smelled great. He was all man.
There was nothing about him that wasn’t appealing but still I hesitated. I had no idea who he really was, and I was planning to work with the FBI... They expected discretion from their employees. When I’d applied to do a paid internship with them in the spring, I had taken a polygraph test and answered a series of questions, which seemed to focus on whether I engaged in risky behavior in my personal life. I had answered no, truthfully. So here I was, contemplating hooking up with Beckett.
