EveryDayLove!: A MyHeartChannel Romance

by Lucy McConnell

  He worked to grab onto one of the thoughts blowing past his head at light speed. The one that finally dropped out of warp speed was that Daisy was a good person. Not just good, she was the best. Kind to a fault, she looked for the finest in people. And the way she complimented Kelly, making Kelly feel like the big star, was selfless. She lived like success and happiness and goodwill were unlimited currencies. He knew better, but he liked that she didn’t. Her humanity was her most attractive quality.

  “Hello?” called someone from his phone.

  “Hello?” he asked. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts he forgot who he was talking to.

  “Can you hear me?” asked Kelly.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Beckett put his hand on the wall to steady himself as he walked. “What did you need?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you what a great job you’re doing there—we’re all very excited about the results.”

  “Yeah—they’re good.” On some level, he was aware that he sounded like an idiot, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it when his mind was befuddled by Daisy’s touch.

  “We’re doing a lot of brainstorming here for future projects. I’ll get back to you when we figure it all out.”

  “Sounds good.” He dropped onto the couch and turned off the phone. It was a good five minutes before he realized he hadn’t said goodbye.

  Beckett was hyper aware of the heat Daisy created with one touch. He could still feel her hands on his skin, and it warmed him all the way to his bare toes. He wasn’t seeing Daisy as a kid sister; she was … more. If he wasn’t careful, he’d leave his heart behind when he left. Because he was leaving. There were projects that needed to be done and people who needed him. He’d chosen his place in the world and he loved it. How many people in the world woke up knowing they were going to make someone’s life infinitely better that day just by showing up to work? FreeWater was his calling, his mission. He couldn’t turn his back on all that. He just couldn’t—not even for someone as brilliant and superb as Daisy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  EveryDayGlam! Beauty Tip

  It’s time to switch things up! Most beauty regimes follow this order:

  Clean

  Exfoliate (twice a week)

  Moisturize

  Protect with sunscreen

  While that may work with store-bought products, when you’re making your own facial cleanser, scrubs, and moisturizer, try switching up the order and exfoliating first to remove the pollutants on the skin that would block cleansers from getting to your pores.

  “Welcome to X-Designs! Is there anything I can help you find?”

  Daisy gripped her purse straps until her knuckles turned white as the perky salesgirl flaunted her pushed-up breasts at Beckett. She’d aimed her question at him and hadn’t spared a glance at Daisy. The little tramp.

  Daisy physically jolted at her thoughts. She wasn’t one to call people names—even in her head. They were in a trendy men’s boutique; of course the woman would talk to Beckett first. He was her target audience.

  She put her hand on Beckett’s forearm. The move was meant to grab both of their attention and managed to at least secure Beckett’s. When she glanced his way, she found him looking at her like one of the lost puppies in Quin’s kennels. He had no idea what he was in for today.

  “I’m doing a fashion makeover on this guy. We’re just starting our day but have several stores to stop in, so we’d like to make this quick. Can you direct us to loose jeans, preferably boot cut?” Beckett wasn’t a slim pant guy. His shoulders were too wide and if he wore slim jeans, he’d look like a tall triangle—or a popsicle.

  The tension seeped off Beckett. Daisy held back from laughing at his obvious relief. He probably thought she’d dress him up like a ringmaster.

  “Why don’t you and your sister follow me.” Little Miss Retail glanced over her shoulder at Beckett with a set of bedroom eyes.

  Daisy’s mouth dropped open. “We’re not related,” she set the woman straight. Though why it mattered what she thought, Daisy didn’t know.

  “Oh?” She batted her hands around. “I’m sorry. You two have a very familiar—sibling thing going on.”

  Daisy didn’t like the tone she used when she said sibling, as if it were a cut to her somehow.

  Beckett’s arm dropped across Daisy’s shoulder. He smelled good, like the new tea-tree shampoo she’d bought and soap and something that was just him that made her head swirl. “You were close, though. We grew up together.”

  “How cute.” The words dripped with sticky sweet honey and hostility.

  Anywhere Daisy’s body touched Beckett’s her skin tingled like she’d just been scrubbed with a loofah, which made it hard to come up with a good response to the snarky salesgirl. She wasn’t a snarky girl by nature and her mind went completely blank. She ended up tripping along with Beckett’s arm across her shoulder all the way to the jeans section.

  “Here’s our latest,” said retail princess. Her tattooed eyebrows arched. “If you’d like to try something on, just let me know.” She lifted her shoulder and applied those bedroom eyes to all parts of Beckett. The woman’s gaze rivaled a spray-on tan, covering every muscle, valley, dip, and crevice with equal attention.

  “My friend should be here any minute. Will you let her know we’re here?” Daisy didn’t understand where the steel edge in her tone had come from. She placed her hand on her neck and lightly cleared her throat.

  “Sure.” The saleswoman flipped her hair over her shoulder and left without another glance Daisy’s way.

  Daisy stared after her. Mean girls had their place in high school and the comment section of her channel, but they hardly ever appeared in person anymore. Most women were happy to chat with Daisy when she convinced Quinton to shop for something other than scrubs. Of course, she didn’t usually take issue with someone flirting with Quinton. He was her brother; she liked seeing him get out of his daily grind and loosen up around the ladies. She didn’t necessarily have those same feelings for Beckett. Not that he’d flirted back with the duchess. Thank goodness.

  There she was, calling people names again. She shouldn’t care who Beckett flirted with—he was a grown man. An oh-so-handsome man. Even with all his facial hair, Beckett was attractive.

  The salesgirl wasn’t the only one who noticed. Her comments section was filled with requests for more Beckett. She planned to give viewers exactly what they wanted. Her mom had sent over the scrapbook images just that morning. She could already picture the video montage complete with classic pop hits from 1999. Her subscribers were going to love it.

  Beckett reached for the darkest pair of jeans. They were made from denim so thick the fold creases would never wash out. Daisy grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  He quirked his cheek in a half grin. “I was going to try these on.”

  “Why?”

  “They looked sturdy.”

  “They are. You could build a house on top of them.”

  “Good. I might have to build a house while I’m in them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I get that, but for the sake of fashion, will you try these on too?” She lifted out a washed denim in size 33x36. She held the waistband and let the legs fall to the floor. Decorative stitching zigzagged across patches of leather on the pockets and there was twice-thick thread on the seams.

  Beckett made a face. “They’re pretty-boy jeans.”

  “That’s what we’re going for.”

  He searched her face becoming as serious as a skin care routine. “Is that what you want? A pretty boy …” He gulped. “With a desk job?” The intensity in his pale blue eyes pulled the air right out of Daisy’s lungs.

  It took a moment for his question to register, and suddenly Daisy thought her brother might know a thing or two about Beckett and his feelings. He looked invested in her answer, which made her palms moist. “I’m not that specific,” she replied. She moved to a rack of distressed shirts and dismissed them quickly.
>
  Beckett followed. “Surely you must have some idea of what you’re looking for in a guy?”

  She kept her eyes on the clothes even as the list wrote itself in her head.

  Tall.

  Size 33x36.

  Piercing blue eyes.

  Brown hair with naturally lighter tips.

  Sleeps on my couch.

  “A list? Pft. Who keeps a list?” She swished hangers back and forth, pretending to look at polo shirts while she used the movement to fan her face.

  He placed his hand over the top of hers and said quietly, “I didn’t say anything about a list.”

  “You didn’t?” she rasped. Why was this store so hot? She’d have to complain to the manager or the trampy saleswoman if she dared show her face again. She’d better not. Daisy was not in her right mind. In fact, she was floating somewhere out of her mind where Beckett’s thumb brushed the back of her hand over and over with spine-tingling regularity.

  “Nope.” He moved closer, making her tingle all over and fading everything in the store to some other dimension. Or maybe they were in the alternate dimension. That would explain why Beckett was looking at her with bedroom eyes. Although, his eyes were less hungry than the saleswoman’s had been. They were full of yearning rather than lust. A yearning for her? Did Beckett really harbor some feelings for her from years gone by, or was this something new? Either way, it was all new to her.

  “There you are!” Vivian huffed as she fell into the chair next to the changing rooms.

  Beckett jerked his hand away and stuffed it in under his arm. He moved to the other side of the clothes rack. The temperature dropped dramatically, cooling Daisy’s cheeks to normal color in record time. She ducked her head, letting her hair curtain off her view of Beckett. “What took so long?” she asked Vivian.

  “Jason called from school; he forgot his lunch. I had to talk him into eating school lunch.”

  “Why’d you have to talk him into it?” asked Beckett. He’d had a quiet conversation with Vivian when she came in for work the day before and then spent all afternoon playing basketball with Jason after school. Not because he was trying to win Vivian over, but because he was a good guy. Still, it had thawed Vivian’s impression of Beckett immensely. The way to a man’s heart may be through his stomach, but the way to a woman’s heart was through her kid.

  “They’re serving fish sticks. He’s convinced they make them out of fish brains because they’re soggy.”

  Daisy exchanged an amused look with Beckett. His attention went back to Vivian as she recounted the conversation with Jason. She kept her eyes on him while aimlessly flipping through clothes. Whatever universe his touch took her to, she seemed to be the only visitor. Beckett didn’t show any signs of the charged moment they’d shared. She could have sworn he’d taken her there, but he was cool and collected as if he hadn’t set her skin afire.

  “Should we ask someone to open a door?” Vivian said.

  Daisy started back to reality. The thought of calling that woman for help gave her the sensation of sleeping next to a snake. “No. I’ve got it.” She dropped to the floor and checked for feet, then crawled under the door of an empty dressing room, popped up, and unlocked it.

  Vivian stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. The tips of Daisy’s ears warmed as she motioned Beckett inside. He nodded appreciatively at her resourcefulness as slipped past her, his arm brushing her hair and sending delightful shivers down her back.

  The door shut behind Beckett and Vivian grabbed her arm, giving her a good shake. “What’s gotten into you?” she whispered.

  Daisy pulled her arm free. “What?”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  Daisy glanced at the closed door and pulled Vivian farther away. “The salesgirl was all over him. It was so uncomfortable.”

  Vivian refreshed her buttermilk lipstick. “For him or for you?”

  “For him, of course.” Daisy twisted a lock of hair between her fingers.

  Vivian waited expectantly.

  Daisy shoved her arm. “What?”

  “Nothing. I just think that, maybe, you have a little crush on Beckett.”

  “What?!” Daisy shoved her harder. “Stop it.” Heat began to spread from her chest all the way to the roots of her hair. She cursed her fair skin, hating that her emotions played out like a movie in HD.

  “You are so totally busted.” Vivian shook her head.

  Daisy did her best to summon her dignity with a lift of her chin. “I may have thought he was attractive when we were younger.”

  “And now?” prodded Vivian.

  “And now, I can see why some people may find him good-looking.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes. “Deny it all you want, but you’re living in Crushville right along with your 11 million viewers.”

  Daisy chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have put him on my channel.”

  “Are you kidding? This is the best idea. You need to play it up for the camera, get a little cozy with the guy.”

  “I can’t do that!” The whole idea gave Daisy a huge case of the butterflies.

  “Sure you can. You’re a woman, he’s a man. Let the math add up.”

  “I hated math.”

  “But you liked chemistry.” Vivian bumped Daisy with her shoulder.

  Daisy did a “wha wha,” but she couldn’t stop hold back her giggles.

  When Beckett stepped out of the changing room in the best pair of jeans on the planet, she sucked in air through her teeth and her laughter floated away.

  “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Vivian pulled out her camera and began filming.

  Daisy approached slowly, worried Beckett had heard what they said while he changed. Even if he’d heard half of the conversation, she’d have to find a place to rent until he moved out, because she’d never be able to show her face in her home while he was there.

  Vivian had him turn in a slow circle with his arms held slightly out to his side while she videoed. He obliged, being un-Beckett-like in his cooperation. He smiled easily. “I actually like these. They’re comfortable.”

  Daisy stepped forward. “The best clothes feel good to wear and they make you feel good. Let’s get started.”

  Beckett shrugged.

  Daisy smiled and waved at the lens. “Hello, friends. Thanks to your generosity, we’ve raised more than enough money for this guy to get a head-to-toe makeover.”

  Beckett cupped his hands around his mouth and mimicked the sound of a crowd cheering. Daisy’s nerves calmed. Having him as an active part of the video instead of a reluctant makeover-ee lifted a worry. She made a heart shape with her fingers and placed it over her chest. “Thank you so much, friends. You’ve gone beyond yourself, your circle, and even your country to help women and children—moms—have a better life.”

  Beckett placed his palm on her back, and she paused. “I can’t tell you what this means to a person to have accessible, clean water.” He swallowed hard. “You became a hero in their lives—they don’t take the gift lightly.”

  Daisy watched the sincere gratitude swirl across his face. His gratitude to her subscribers was real and true. She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand, feeling the soft beard beneath her palm as she turned his face towards her. They paused for a beat, not for the camera’s sake, but because the air between them became too heavy to talk through.

  He smiled down at her and said low, “Thank you.”

  She nodded, willing herself to turn back to the camera. “Well, now it’s time for the payoff.” She smiled, feeling giddy because she was the one who got to spend this time with Beckett. “Every pair of jeans is different. I’ll bet I could pull two pairs of the same label and size off the rack and find small discrepancies that change the way they fit.” She hooked two fingers inside Beckett’s waistband.

  He jumped to the side. “Hey.”

  She laughed. “Don’t be squeamish.” She tugged him closer. “A good pair of jeans will sit on the hips. You
should be able to fit two fingers comfortably between then skin and the fabric. Any tighter and even a man can develop a muffin top—any looser, and he risks showing the world his boxers.”

  “Hey—that look was in when I was in junior high,” Beckett protested.

  Daisy widened her eyes in mock horror. “I remember.” She made a mental note to attach a picture of Beckett from seventh grade to the video. “But you’re all grown-up now.”

  “I’m so glad you noticed,” he drawled.

  “I didn’t—someone pointed it out to me,” she teased.

  He grinned mischievously, and Daisy heard the click-click of new subscribers in time with her rapidly beating heart. She used her hooked fingers to propel him to turn around. With a devious smile of her own, she said to the camera, “Let’s talk pocket placement.”

  The more Daisy joked with Beckett for the camera, the easier it became. They took all day to outfit him with a wardrobe she deemed sufficient for a normal American male before heading back to her house.

  She dropped the bags in the front room, ready to head to her room and crash for the night.

  Beckett stared around him in a state of frozen horror. “This is too much, Daisy. We have to take most of it back.”

  She shook her head emphatically. “This was part of the deal. Your personal payoff for participating in the makeover.” She held up her fingers and began to tick items off: “FreeWater gets exposure, a donation, and credit; I get to try something new for my channel and increase my subscribers; you get new clothes.” She smiled wide. “Win-win-win.”

  His face softened with a new tenderness. “It is a win, but it won’t fit in my backpack.”

  She twisted her lips as she thought of the bag on a shelf in her garage. “I hadn’t thought about that. Umm … I guess you can leave what you don’t need in my closet.”

  He quirked a grin. “Really?” His hand went over his heart. “I like that—it would make this the closest thing I’ve had to a home in years.”