by Dylann Crush
* * *
A few hours later, Charlie knelt down next to Baby Back and ran a hand over the sow’s belly. “You sure about that, Doc?”
“Time will tell. But based on my experience, you’ve got yourself a pregnant pig here.” He removed his glasses to wipe them on the edge of his shirt. “When did you say the incident occurred?”
Charlie counted backward in her head. “Been a couple of weeks.”
“Then I’d expect she ought to deliver her litter right around Labor Day.” He let out a slight chuckle. “Seems fitting, eh? Laboring on Labor Day?”
Fitting? No. Nothing about this situation seemed fitting. What was she supposed to do with a pregnant mascot? They’d never had a knocked-up sow on staff before. She thanked the vet for taking a look and sat with Baby Back while he packed up his things and made for the parking lot.
“What am I going to do with you?” Charlie muttered.
Baby Back snorted while she nudged her head under Charlie’s hand, begging for another scratch.
Charlie couldn’t wait to fill Beck in on the news. Technically, this was his problem. But he wouldn’t know what to do with a pregnant pig any more than she did. They could figure it out together. They’d been doing a lot together lately. She blushed as she thought about how “together” they’d been.
She gave Baby Back the last apricot from her pocket and stood. Best get inside and share the news with Beck. They still had a few minutes before her family would arrive. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she told him he’d have grand-piggies.
Ten minutes later, she wasn’t disappointed.
“You sure about that?” he asked. His brow furrowed, shoulders hunched.
“Um, not absolutely. It’s not like we did an ultrasound and saw the little buggers swimming around inside.”
“Well, then how does he know?”
“Doc Martin has been a large animal vet for thirty-five years.” Charlie put her palms down on the desk and leaned toward him. “I want to know what Marilyn is going to offer in piglet support.”
He cracked a grin. “Let’s assume Marilyn is out of the picture. Baby Back is going to have to do this on her own. She’ll have us, of course.”
“Us?” Charlie raised her brows.
Beck stood, walked around the desk, and wrapped her in a hug. “Absolutely. I’m here for you. I had equal part in this and am going to make sure you don’t have to handle this on your own. When’s the due date?”
“Due date? What due date?” Brittany poked her head into the office, an apron in one hand and her order tablet in the other.
“Nothing.” Charlie broke the embrace. “It’s, um, Baby Back. She’s having piglets.”
Brittany squinted, looking back and forth between Charlie and Beck. “The pig is pregnant?”
“Yeah. The pig. Crazy, huh?” Beck funneled his hands through his hair.
“Yeah, crazy.” Brittany nodded like she wasn’t convinced, then disappeared down the hall.
“Well, crap on a cracker.” Charlie batted at his chest.
“What?”
Seriously, the man had no clue. “You’d better get on out there. I’m sure Brittany’s telling everyone I’m knocked up now.”
“The pig. We told her Baby Back is pregnant.”
“Yeah, and you sounded so convincing. You’re going to have to talk fast.”
“Me?” His eyes went round.
“Yep.” Charlie put her hands on his shoulders and whirled him around to face the door. “Right now my dad’s probably headed out to his truck to grab his shotgun.”
She wanted to laugh at the expression on Beck’s face. He looked like he couldn’t tell if she was pulling his leg or telling the truth.
“I’m not joking, cowboy.”
He groaned. “I guess I’d better mosey on out there then.”
“Beck?” He looked up. The low burn hit her gut as he met her gaze. Every single time. “If I were you, I’d run.”
Chapter Seventeen
Beck laced his fingers with Charlie’s and pulled her through the door and down the hall. It was still somewhat early, so only a few tables had filled up. He made his way to the one in the center of the room. The one where Tom, Cash, Statler, and Waylon had pushed back from their chairs and stood arguing with each other.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Beck cleared his throat, trying to interject into the conversation, which appeared to be really more of a shouting match. He caught bits and pieces.
“…skin him alive…”
“…go get the justice of the peace right now…”
“…send him back to New York less a few body parts…”
“Hey!” He let go of Charlie’s hand and tapped Tom on the shoulder.
The older man turned toward him, his face the color of the ripe tomatoes Beck had tossed into the eggs he’d made that morning. A vein bulged at Tom’s temple. “You!”
Chairs scraped on the wood floor, boots clacked, and suddenly Beck found himself surrounded by an angry mob of Walker males. All of them except Presley. Presley had his feet kicked up on the edge of the table while he leaned back in his chair. He was the only one smiling.
Cash jabbed Beck on the shoulder. “Didn’t believe me, huh?”
“I can explain.” Beck put his palms out in surrender.
Waylon poked a finger into his chest. “You better be ready to do the right thing, city boy. How dare you take advantage of my baby sister—”
“If anyone is going to deck him, it’s going to be me.” Tom made a fist.
Beck’s head buzzed with the threats and overwhelming anger circling him. He opened his mouth to say something, but a piercing whistle cut through the chatter.
Everyone stopped. Charlie stood on the bar, her fingers still wedged into her mouth, and let out another whistle. “Will y’all listen for a second?” Satisfied she had the entire bar’s attention, she held a hand out and motioned to Beck.
His cheeks burned as everyone in the place rested the weight of their gaze on him. Shaking his head, he joined her on top of the bar.
She smiled encouragement as he took his place by her side. They were doing this. Didn’t have much of a choice now. It’s not that he didn’t want to go public with their fling. But he’d figured news would make its way around naturally. Slowly. Privately. He hadn’t been prepared to make an official announcement, especially not with four pairs of glaring Walker eyes tearing him apart from across the room.
“Go ahead, Beck. Tell ’em.” Charlie tucked her arm through his.
“Me? Tell ’em what?”
“Tell ’em I’m not pregnant,” she mumbled.
He cleared his throat. “So Charlie and I have some news we’d like to share.”
Chaos erupted. Waylon and Tom headed their way. Even the people he didn’t recognize started to talk among themselves, making it more than a little difficult to speak out over the din.
“Oh for crying out loud.” Charlie whistled again. The noise ceased. In an apparent effort to get her point across before all hell broke loose, she yelled, “I am not pregnant. Baby Back is. Due in September. Okay?”
She nodded, then scrambled down from the bar, leaving Beck standing there alone.
“But what about you and him?” Waylon shouted.
“Yeah? Are you violating my baby sister?” Statler joined in.
Beck glanced down at Charlie. She smiled up at him and held out a hand. He didn’t have to take a stand—he knew that. But if he wanted to hold his own, to get her brothers off his back once and for all, and to prove himself to Charlie, he’d better step up and handle this. He put his hands up to hush the crowd. Charlie frowned.
“Not that it’s any of anyone’s business”—he began—“but Charlie and I are together. So all of you can stop whispering and talking about us behin
d our backs. No, she’s not pregnant. No, we’re not talking marriage, Cash.” He sought out her brother, who shook his head. “But I’m falling for this amazing woman, so you’d better get used to seeing me around.”
He hopped off the bar to stand next to Charlie. Wrapping an arm around her, he met her gaze.
Her eyes widened in shock. “That was, um—”
“Amazeballs,” Darby interjected. “Now kiss her, quick, and let’s get this dinner going. Ryder’s about to have a meltdown, and I need to get some chicken nuggets in him, stat.”
“Well, you heard the woman,” Charlie said.
Beck cradled her face between his hands. He hadn’t meant to declare his feelings in front of the entire bar. But he’d meant what he’d said.
With the applause of her family, the staff, and the customers who’d enjoyed the little display ringing in his ears, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Kissed her like he meant it. Kissed her like she deserved. Kissed her like he’d never be able to get enough.
Chapter Eighteen
“What do you call these again?” Beck lifted the deep-fried bite to his nose and sniffed.
“It’s a jalapeno popper.” Charlie tossed one into her mouth and chewed. “Just a cheese-stuffed jalapeno. Try one.”
“No, thanks.” He dropped it back into the red-and-white-checked wrapper, leaving it for her to enjoy.
If he’d been at home, he would most likely be joining his dad and Marion for dinner at his father’s club. A low-key Father’s Day where he’d give his dad another Hermès tie, or maybe a case of his favorite wine, imported directly from France. They might even take his dad’s yacht out for a spin in the harbor and dine al fresco with uniformed staff waiting on them hand and foot.
Whatever he’d have been doing in New York, he could pretty much guarantee it wouldn’t be anything like the Father’s Day Fiesta that was going down on Main Street. Tables and tents lined the thoroughfare. The smell of sizzling onions permeated the entire downtown area. He’d seen everything from the standard chicken and steak fajitas to more exotic options like alligator and rattlesnake. So far he hadn’t indulged in anything he didn’t recognize, which meant his stomach had been grumbling and gurgling since he and Charlie had arrived.
Charlie bebopped down the street from stand to stand, hugging friends, introducing him to the few residents in Holiday he hadn’t had a chance to meet yet, and sampling a little bit of everything. Since Father’s Day always fell on a Sunday, they both had the night off. Stepping out with Charlie at his side felt like they were making a statement. They weren’t spending time together as coworkers tonight or sneaking off to his or her place to be alone for an hour or two. It was the first time they’d officially gone out in public since they’d officially decided to start dating.
The funny thing about it was that no one seemed surprised. For the first time in a very long time, Beck didn’t feel a nagging sense of urgency to be anywhere else. He planned to enjoy putting in his time in Texas.
“Hey, Charlie, you seen Dad yet?” Cash came up behind them, his daughter by his side.
“Hey, Kenzie.” Charlie bent down and gave the pigtailed girl a big hug. “You having fun?”
Kenzie held out a goldfish in a bag. “Daddy won this for me at the BB gun game.”
Charlie’s eyebrows lifted. “Wow. Just what y’all need, another pet, huh?”
“I was going for the giant stuffed cow, okay? They jack with the sights on those guns.”
“Don’t you shoot a gun on a regular basis?” Charlie bit down on her lip like she was trying to stifle a smile.
“Forget it. Have you seen Dad or what? Kenzie made him a card at the craft tent and wanted to give it to him before it gets messed up.”
“Saw him a little while ago over by the beer tent.” She nodded down the road toward the giant red-and-white tent at the end of the street, by far the busiest vendor at the festival. “Mom wants us to meet over in front of Whitey’s at seven. We can give Dad his gift then and get the annual family picture.”
Beck rocked back on his heels, enjoying the exchange. He’d never had a relationship like the one Charlie shared with her brothers. They’d tease back and forth, but the warm undercurrent was always there. Almost made him wish he’d had a brother or sister growing up.
“Wanna see my picture?” Kenzie poked him in the thigh.
“Sure.” Beck leaned down toward the girl.
“Will you hold my fish?” She thrust the puffy, clear bag at him. He took it, holding it up to get a good look at the orange fish swimming round and round.
She held out the card and pointed to the stick figures. “It’s our whole family. Daddy, Auntie Charlie, Grampa, Gramma, Uncle Waylon, Auntie Darby…” She rattled off the names of her uncles and cousins until she reached the end. Then she stood there, an adorable crease between her little eyebrows.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Charlie bent down. “Your drawing is perfect. Grampa’s going to love it.”
“What about him?” Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “I didn’t put Uncle Beck in my picture.”
Uncle Beck? Whoa. Beck took two steps backward before he even realized he’d moved. “Um, I, uh—”
“Oh, honey. Beck isn’t an uncle. He’s a—” Charlie shot a silent cry for help toward her brother.
Cash hooked his thumbs through his belt loop and began to whistle. Didn’t look like Charlie would be getting any help from that direction.
“I’m just a friend.” Beck held the fish out to Kenzie and met Charlie’s gaze. Her eyes held a hint of amusement with a little bit of… Oh hell, was that disappointment mixed in? “A very good friend.” Still no smile. “Like the best kind of friend she could have.”
“I thought Aunt Darby was Aunt Charlie’s best friend?” Kenzie’s lips puckered.
He couldn’t explain his relationship with Charlie to another grown-up, much less a kid who barely reached his waist.
“I think what Beck is trying to say is that he wishes he was your uncle, but for now, he’s a very good friend of your aunt Charlie’s.” Cash finally stepped in.
“Do they have sleepovers? Like I get to have with Allie sometimes?” Kenzie still hadn’t taken the fish. She clamped her tiny fists to her waist, reminding him of Charlie when she was pissed off and confused.
“I think I see Grampa over there.” Charlie pointed toward the striped tent. “Why don’t you go give him your card, honey?”
Distracted, Kenzie skipped off toward her grandpa.
Cash snagged the baggie from Beck’s hand. “Nice, Charlie. Real nice.”
“What did you want me to say? You sure weren’t any help.” Charlie took the same stance as Kenzie from a few minutes ago. Fists on her hips, lips pursed. The family resemblance couldn’t have been more obvious.
“She’s not the only one who wants to know.” Cash narrowed his eyes and nodded. “You know how it is around here. People are talkin’, baby girl.”
“Talking about what? I’m not pregnant; we admitted we’re dating. What else can they possibly be talking about?”
“Give ’em an inch, and they want a mile. Everyone’s saying the next logical move is for him to put a ring on it.”
“Would you stop it already?”
“Hey”—Cash put his hands out in surrender—“you asked.” Then he spun on his heel to follow his daughter.
Charlie turned to face Beck. “Well, that was fun. You okay? You seem a little, uh, shell-shocked.”
Shell-shocked didn’t begin to describe it. He and Charlie had barely started exploring the undeniable attraction that pulled them together. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the kids to start calling him Uncle Beck and inserting him into family pictures.
“You weren’t kidding when you said everyone’s in your business around here, were you?”
“Nope.” She gave him a
friendly jab in the stomach. “And it’s only going to get worse.”
“Worse, huh?” The initial panic edged away. This was Charlie he was talking about. He already couldn’t get enough of the woman. And it wasn’t like they were making plans to settle down and start a herd of their own. They’d decided to enjoy the summer, keep things casual, and have a bit of fun. No way could things get worse. They could only get better.
* * *
Charlie slipped her arm around Beck’s waist and tucked her hand into his back pocket. He’d handled the exchange with Cash and Kenzie all right. At least he hadn’t run off as fast as his broken-in boots could carry him.
Things had been good between them. Sure, they still bickered over how to handle things at the Rose a bit. Especially when he botched the paint job and had the Rambling Rose covered in a coat of matte white instead of the trademark pink. The locals had nearly torn the clapboard siding off when they saw it. He swore to her he’d ordered pink but they must have gotten the order wrong. He’d looked so terrified when she’d confronted him, she had to believe him. And now, for the first time since Jackson died, she’d started looking forward to the future instead of slogging through the days, each of them the same as the one before. She’d found something—no, make that someone—who gave her hope. She’d found her smile again.
Beck leaned down, his breath tickling her ear. “Can I ask you something?”
“Is it about the family picture? I promise, I won’t make you stand in for that. Mom has a rule that you have to be engaged before you get to be in the family photo.”
He shook his head, his mouth flirting with the sensitive spot behind her ear. “No. It’s about the sleepovers. I think Kenzie’s right. Good friends have sleepovers, right?”
Her lungs squeezed, and whatever air they’d held became trapped. She nodded.
“So how does this work? Do I have to wait for an invitation, or can I invite myself over?” His nose nudged against her neck. Tiny sparks danced along her skin.
Beck at her place. Overnight. Sharing a bed. The thought sent a warm rush through her limbs. “Either way.”
