All? What else was there but this?
Her hips swirled beneath his; she was talking with her body. Showing him what she wanted.
“I won’t hold back,” he gritted the words out as he thrust into her. His muscles tensed as she cried out his name. It was so much better than anything else she could have said, so much more powerful than any long-winded declaration. Any dirty talk. Any whispered demands.
Just his name, the edges cut with desire.
“Beckett,” she groaned again and that final sound pushed him over the edge.
…
They’d lain, tangled in one another, until a sound broke the quiet of their even breathing. A rumble from McKenna’s stomach.
“Hungry?” He propped himself up on one arm and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.
The gesture was so intimate that McKenna blushed. Which seemed a little silly given what they’d done, but she wasn’t used to hearts and romance around sex. Her ex had always immediately gone to shower afterward. Alone.
“Yeah. Someone distracted me.” She couldn’t help a blissful grin flaring across her lips. “It’s okay. I’ll consider this fasted cardio.”
Beckett leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “What do you want to eat?”
“Is it terrible if I say I want awful, so-bad-it’s-good junk food?”
“Okay.” He nodded and pushed up from the bed.
Naked, Beckett was even more glorious than she’d imagined. He was lean, athletic. Not chunky and built like a gym bro, but sleeker. Honed. An efficient machine. Pale golden hair dusted his legs, and made a trail from his belly button stretching down. He had a light smattering on his chest, too.
“You’re staring,” he said, cocking his head.
“Sure am.” She grinned and made a move to get out of bed. But he stopped her, pushing her back down with a firm hand and a firmer kiss.
“I’ll get it.” He jerked his head toward the window. “It’s raining.”
Damn if her heart didn’t melt into a puddle. A man who was incredibly unique and thoughtful in bed, and who was willing to brave crappy weather alone to get snacks…she’d stumbled across Mr. Perfect.
Instead of reveling in bliss, an uneasiness settled over her. She never found Mr. Perfect, let alone managed to convince him that she was Miss Perfect. Why would Beckett be any different?
He stepped into his jeans and pulled them up, tugging his belt tight at his waist. When he was fully dressed, he planted a kiss on her head and left without a word. Quiet, as ever. McKenna sighed and ran her hands over the embroidery on her bedspread, trying to ease the churning in her gut.
This was exactly what she wanted—a guy who was kind, sexy, intelligent. It seemed too good to be true. And he hadn’t explicitly said that he was over his ex, had he? She bit down on her lip, trying to think back. He’d told her to “screw the plan” but that was it. Well, other than saying words were inadequate to describe her.
“Ugh.” She thumped a fist down onto the bed. Why did this all have to be so complicated?
Her phone buzzed next to her bed, a message flashing up on the screen. It was darker now, silent except for the pitter-patter of rain, and the screen illuminated her bedside table.
Kayla: Hi McKenna! I would love to book you for my wedding makeup and for our rehearsal dinner, too. I’d love to treat my mother as well. Let me know if you’re open to that and I’ll send the details through.
Her heart leaped into her throat. Two jobs! This was even better than she could have hoped for. The money would be great, but more importantly, the potential exposure would be huge. She squealed and hugged her phone to her chest. This was it. Her big break.
By the time Beckett returned with their food—an assortment of calorie-laden goodies from a local burger joint—she was filled to bursting with excitement.
“Kayla wants me to do her makeup,” she said, bouncing up and down on the couch as she not-so-patiently waited for him to extract all the food from the plastic bags, which were spotted with water. Much like Beckett himself. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I can. But it’s so exciting. Now I can put something on my website for…for, whatever those things are. Recommendations? Or are they accolades? Like those quote things, you know? Anyhow, do you think she’d want to give me one of those? I hope does. Oh, I’m so excited.”
Beckett smiled and dumped a small paper bag of fries onto a plate that he’d collected from her kitchen. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She reached for a fry. “I have been holding back on this for way too long. But no more! I’m going to make this business work and then I can finally quit working at CAM-Ready and work for myself. Just like you do.” She looked over the food options and selected chicken nuggets and a cheeseburger. “What exactly do you do, anyway? I know it’s computer programming and business stuff. But what are you working on now?”
He looked up at her, a brow raised. “You want to hear about my app?”
“Sure.” She munched on a nugget. “I’m interested.”
“Oh.” He looked almost…confused. “Well, it’s a wealth management app.”
“What’s it called?”
“WealthHack.” He settled on the couch next to her and grabbed a burger for himself. “You sync the app to your online banking and investment accounts and it gives you reports on spending habits. You can set up alerts to help with budgeting and it provides daily reminders of your financial goals.”
“WealthHack.” She bobbed her head. “I like it. So it’s basically a robot financial adviser?”
He chuckled. “Basically. The aim is for it to become something that financial institutions recommend to people for building better investing habits. But it can also be useful for people who are trying to work their way out of credit card and other types of bad debt, because the app is built to focus on habits. It learns how you spend to provide customized advice on where you can save money to then invest in something that will help you grow your wealth long term.”
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk about anything,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes, but didn’t look upset.
“Seriously though, it’s incredible.” She placed a hand on his knee. “You’re going to make millions. I can see so many people wanting an app like that.”
He chewed, the excitement evaporating from his expression. “That’s if we even see it to fruition.”
McKenna concentrated on her meal, unsure whether to let on that she knew Sherri’s father was supposed to be financially backing the project. But she didn’t want to get Kayla in trouble for spilling the beans. “What do you mean?”
Moment of truth. Would he lie to her?
“Lionus Aldridge, Sherri’s father, was planning to invest in WealthHack.” He cleared his throat. “But he pulled out when Sherri and I broke up.”
“Right.”
It was so hard to tell what Beckett was thinking. He managed to hide his emotions away behind his clear, blue eyes and perfect mouth. There wasn’t a telltale crease between his brows or a downturn of his mouth. Just a mask of neutrality.
“What happens now?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Without that money, there’s no way I’ll get it to market by the date I’d set. I won’t be able to pay the app developers or do any marketing activities. I’ve already lost the office space, because I wouldn’t sign the lease without knowing if I had the funds to pay for it.”
“Can’t you find someone else to invest in it?”
“By then it could be too late, someone might beat me to the finish line.” He sighed. “This business is so competitive and time sensitive. Losing funding at this stage is basically a death sentence.”
It looked as though he was about to add something else, but instead he bit down on his burger. Her heart contracted for him. She couldn’t even imagine how tough it must be to potentially wash so much work—and a fabulous idea—down the drain.
“Is that
why you wanted to get back with Sherri?” The question popped out before she could stop it.
She expected him to bite back, to look hurt or upset. Or even to give her nothing. But he surprised her with a guilty twist of his mouth. “It certainly wasn’t the whole reason. I did care about her and I wanted to marry her. At least, I thought I did. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I needed her father’s money.”
“That’s not a reason to be with someone.” She put her food down, her appetite suddenly waning. “I don’t know where this is going, but I can’t promise—”
“Stop.” He set his plate down and turned to her. “I’m not asking you for that.”
She wanted to feel relieved. But uncertainty hung like a cloud overhead. This situation was messy. And emotional mess was not her forte, judging by how she handled her parents and their attitudes toward her. Her stomach twisted and turned.
But she’d asked a lot of Beckett already. And he hadn’t held anything back. Maybe she should enjoy his company and take it slow with the personal stuff. Figure out what her next steps were before potentially jumping in with a “what do we call this?” conversation.
The silence strangled her. Beckett seemed to have retreated into his own head, and had abandoned his food also. Dammit. Why did she have to go and ruin a perfectly good evening with her questions? Maybe she did talk too much.
“Why don’t we watch a movie?” she suggested, flashing him a bright smile. “I’m in the mood for something funny.”
“Sure.” He slid an arm along the back of the couch in invitation and she snuggled into his side, leaning her head against his chest.
She had no idea where they were headed, but something told her to take it slow. To watch her step. Since Operation Self-Love had been officially shelved, she needed a new mission. Operation Figure Out Beckett Walsh was now in effect.
Chapter Fourteen
The movie finished around midnight. McKenna had fallen asleep on him, her head nestled against his neck, the gentle in and out of her breath warming his skin. He’d picked her up, carried her to her bedroom, and gently placed her in bed. She mumbled something in a groggy voice, her arms clinging to his neck for a moment before he disentangled himself from her vice-like grip.
Despite all the worry and confusion battling in his head, this small gesture made him smile in the darkness. The girl wore her heart on her sleeve, that was for damned sure. And he liked it.
No head games. No playing hard to get.
He brushed the hair from her forehead and tugged the covers up over her. Light filtered in between the slats of her blinds, illuminating the shape of her in the bed. As tempting as it was to stay and spend the night wrapped up in her, he needed to get home and clear his head. The revelation about Sherri was playing on his mind. Not to mention that if he was accepting that Lionus’s money wasn’t going to come in, then he needed to start working on a Plan B.
With a light step, so as not to wake her, he left her room and closed the door with a soft snick. Then he grabbed the empty containers from their meal and stuffed them into one of the takeaway bags so he could drop them in the chute on the way back to his place. But the second he stepped outside her apartment, his eyes locked onto something unusual and everything else was forgotten.
“Mum?” He stalked toward the crumpled figure at the end of the hall.
His mother looked up, her eyes hooded and sleepy. Her skin blotchy. Tear-stained. “Beck?”
“What on earth are you doing here?” His gaze whipped around. She had a coat but nothing else.
“I tried to call you,” she said.
Shit. He hadn’t taken his phone to McKenna’s, not expecting that he would be staying so long. Hell, he’d drifted there without even thinking his plan through.
“When did you get here?” He reached down to help her up from the floor.
“A few hours ago. I fell asleep.”
“Why didn’t you call Kayla?” He checked her over, a horrible feeling taking root in his gut.
Greg had never hit her before, but he’d always felt the power imbalance of their relationship and feared that one day it might take a turn. Thankfully, it didn’t look like she’d been hurt. Not physically anyway.
“You know what she’s like,” Minnie huffed.
Yeah, Beckett knew exactly what she was like. His sister set a lot of boundaries with their mother, thinking it might teach her something. Which meant she always came to Beckett first.
“I knew you’d come home at some point.” She raked a hand through her frizzy hair.
Satisfied that she didn’t need to be taken to a doctor or the emergency room, Beckett dug his key out of his pocket and let them both into his apartment. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Silence. After the spiel she’d given him at dinner the other night, her showing up unannounced wasn’t a good sign. A lot of people could cause his mother’s temper to flare up, but only one ever made her cry.
“What’s he done now?” Beckett growled. “I swear to God, if he hurt you—”
“He’s gone.” She let out a tearful huff and shook her head, her thin lips almost disappearing as she pressed them together. “You were right, I guess. He comes and goes as he pleases.”
“When are you going to stop letting him walk all over you?” Anger ripped through him like a freight train. “When he’s here he stomps on everything, and he leaves you and Kayla in tears. Every goddamn time. And I’m the one who picks up the pieces.”
He wanted to find that sonofabitch and tell him to stay the hell away. For good.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d been here—consoling his mother. Dreading having to tell his sister that her father was gone. Again. The man was a parental Houdini. It’d taken Kayla years to trust her fiancé. They’d known each other since they were kids, and he’d always been in love with her. But Kayla had assumed he would leave her just like her father did.
And now he was going to have to tell her it’d happened again.
“I’m sorry, Beck.” Tears shimmered in his mother’s eyes, her face crumpling. She looked way older than her fifty-two years—heartache etching lines into her face that shouldn’t have been there. If only she could apply the take-no-bullshit attitude she had at work to her relationship with Greg.
“There’s more.” She hiccupped.
Ice solidified in Beckett’s veins. “Tell me.”
“I went out yesterday to do some grocery shopping and…” She shook her head. “My card got declined. He’d been to the bank and…and…”
Her words dissolved into a sob. He wanted to ask how she could have been so stupid to leave his name on their accounts when Greg hadn’t contributed a cent in years. But they were well past that conversation now.
“How much is left?” Beckett wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“Enough for a month’s rent. Barely.”
Jesus. All that money he’d put aside for his mother, all the blood, sweat, and tears slaving over that project so he could create a secure life for his family. Gone.
“If he ever sets foot in your house again, I swear…” Beckett’s chest heaved, the cold reality freezing his blood. It was gone. All of it. “We’re done, okay? This is it. I don’t give a shit if he grovels until his voice gives out. He’s on his own now.”
His mother was nodding, tears still rolling down her cheeks. She looked deliriously tired, no doubt having stressed for hours about telling him. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
“We can’t tell Kayla yet,” his mother said. “She called earlier today to ask if he was going to come to the wedding.”
“Shhh.” He pulled her into his arms and let her cry against his T-shirt. “We can figure it out tomorrow.”
He set his kettle to boil and got his mother to make herself a cup of tea while he changed the sheets on his bed for her. No way was he letting her sleep on the couch. And tomorrow he’d go to her place and change the locks. Then they’d go to the
bank and get Greg taken off her accounts.
He could fix this. There had to be a solution.
After his mother had drunk her tea and gone to bed, Beckett lay on the couch, staring up into the darkness. Sleep wasn’t going to come, that much was clear. Not until he had a plan for how to fix the momentous fuck-up that was his life.
His mother had one month of rent. Beckett’s bank account could tide her over, but she’d have to get a job to cover bills and groceries. He could sell his apartment if need be. But that was all a Band-Aid solution.
Then what?
The app wouldn’t make it to market for a year, at least. And that’s if they did a cut-down version of what he had planned, and if he had a robust team of developers helping him. Profits would take longer still to come through. If he got a job, he wouldn’t have enough time to work on the startup.
As for the option of taking a loan…it was possible. He had equity in the apartment that he could borrow against, but it wouldn’t be enough to cover his mum and get WealthHack to the next investment stage. Certainly, not the two million Lionus had promised. And the venture capitalist Beckett had met with would only get on board at this early stage by cutting the heart out of his project and leaving him with crumbs.
“Fuck,” he muttered, grinding the heel of his palm into his eye.
The only way he could see to fix this problem would be to convince Lionus to support M.K. Technologies again. And that meant smoothing things over with Sherri.
The very thought of it made him want to pound his fist into something. Why now? Why, after he’d finally taken a step out of his box and discovered that there was more to life than security? It was like the universe was telling him to get back inside. To barricade the doors and go back to the old way of doing things.
Through the silence of the apartment, something rustled. A soft, muted sound. He pushed up and padded to his bedroom door. Sobbing. Pressing his palm to the door, he sighed, wishing he knew the right words to say.
But words weren’t his forte. Action was.
And that meant being with McKenna was a luxury he couldn’t afford right now.
Trouble Next Door Page 14
