I laughed and snapped myself back into reality as I reminded myself not to make it into something that it was not.
“You’re so sweet,” I said. “I’m not used to that.”
“Not used to what?”
“Never mind,” I said. I didn’t want to ruin our perfect little evening by drudging up the past.
“Want to go for a walk?” he offered. He stood up and extended his hand, taking mine and helping me up. I kicked my heels off and pushed them under the linen covered table.
It had been an unusually warm September evening, but the setting of the sun brought a chill into the air. Beckett, in true gentleman fashion, removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders the moment he noticed my quivering lips.
“Thank you.” I walked a little bit closer to him.
He wrapped his arm around my hip and pulled me in. “That better?”
We strolled alongside one another, the cool ocean water kissing our toes as it splashed upon the shore where we walked.
***
Beckett insisted on walking me to my door, even though we were next-door neighbors.
“Did you want to come in for a drink?” I offered. It seemed like the polite thing to do, and I wasn’t quite ready for the night to end just then.
“Sure,” Beckett said. He pressed his hand onto my lower back as I unlocked my door.
I slid my heels off and sat my clutch down on the edge of the marble island. Beckett loosened his tie and draped his jacket over the back of a counter stool.
“What’s your drink?” I asked him. I’d played bartender a million times before with Simon and his buddies. I could make a mean whiskey sour or pretty much any other drink known to man.
“You don’t have any scotch do you?” he asked.
“Ah, a scotch man, are we?” I teased. “You’re in luck.”
As a parting gift to myself, I’d packed away some of Simon’s most prized scotch from his imported liquor collection. He had so many of them anyway, I was sure he didn’t miss them at all.
I grabbed a crystal tumbler. “Ice?”
“Please.”
I slid the glass across the smooth counter and he stopped it with his firm grip.
“Not drinking?” he asked.
“Champagne. Wine,” I said. “I don’t need anything else tonight.”
He tossed the rest of the scotch back and sat the glass down. The remaining ice clinked as it shifted in the cup.
“Thanks for tonight,” I said. My apartment was so quiet and ripe with tension in the air. We had some sort of connection, and I wondered if he could feel it too. “I needed that.”
“Me too,” he said. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
He gripped his glass and walked it over to the sink where I stood. I intended to maintain a safe distance from him. Not that he was dangerous. Not that I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust myself.
I’d promised everyone I knew and myself that I was going to stay single for a while. I refused to rush into things or settle for just anyone. But Beckett wasn’t just anyone, and I could feel my self-control fading fast in his presence.
His hand brushed against my arm as he sat his glass in the bottom of the sink. I closed my eyes and tried to fight off the burning intensity that shot throughout my body. The entire night I’d been fantasizing about being taken by him and giving myself to him completely.
Beckett lingered in my space, mere inches from my face. I opened my eyes for a split second and tried to resist what I knew was coming. I promised myself I’d take things slow with the next one. I promised my mama that I wouldn’t get caught up. And then Beckett came along and made me forget how to even breathe.
His hands braced my hips and turned me to face him straight on. My parted lips gave an open invitation to his, and within moments they were pressed against mine. His hands worked their way up before gripping my face, just under my jaw. He kissed me with a passion I’d never known before in my life.
“Beck,” I whispered as I pulled away.
He immediately retreated and searched my face for a sign that he hadn’t completely blown our night.
“I want this,” I said. “I really, really want this. But we have to slow down.”
He lowered his head and stared at the walnut floor beneath us. He was probably just as frustrated as I was, but if this was going in the direction I thought it was going, I didn’t want to jeopardize anything.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just saw you standing there. I couldn’t resist. I’d been wanting to kiss you all night.”
My stomach fluttered and my fingers reached up to trace my lips. “Me too.”
He stepped back into my space, reaching for my hips once more.
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to rush this. Not with you.”
He sighed and rubbed his tired face with his hands.
“I hope you understand,” I said. Leave it to me to ruin a perfectly delicious date with an incredibly amazing man by being a textbook prude.
“I do,” he said with a genuine smile. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost after all? “I should get going.”
CHAPTER 5
“Pretzel,” I moaned as she licked my face. “Go back to sleep. It’s way too early.”
She wouldn’t stop. That girl was nothing if not persistent, and it suddenly occurred to me that I’d forgotten to let her out the night before. I shuffled out of bed and slipped on my robe and a pair of sneakers. Pretzel was already by the door. She knew the drill.
A small little thing at only eight pounds, I rarely felt the need to use a leash with her but it was the law. Plus I didn’t want to tick off any of my new neighbors. She scurried down the hall in front of me towards the elevator, doing a little dance of excitement.
“I’m sorry, girl,” I said. I truly felt bad for making her wait. She was a sweet little dog.
The chilly air of the brisk September morning hit us as we made our way outside to a little grassy patch by the sidewalk. She quickly did her thing, and I struggled but managed to stay awake. I extended the leash and let her walk up and down the block for a bit to get a little exercise. Up ahead was an older woman walking a young Brittany spaniel who seemed to grow very excited the moment she saw Pretzel. Pretzel jumped up and down and started zig-zagging in front of me. She did a little spin and then jerked the leash.
“No, Pretzel,” I sighed. “You’re not playing with that dog. She’s five times your size.”
Pretzel continued her little dance and in my half-asleep state, my foot got twisted up in her leash and I stumbled to the cement ground.
“Ugh!” I groaned as I landed on my hands and knees. The palms of my hands stung and were indented with tiny bits of sidewalk gravel. I stood up to brush off my knees. “Pretzel!”
She was gone. I looked around. Nothing but honking cars, busses, taxis, and people walking up and down the sidewalk.
“Pretzel!” I yelled again. My voice strained as I struggled to fight back tears. I’d never been a dog person before until that fateful day by the pretzel cart in Midtown. A man was selling Yorkie puppies, and she was the runt of the litter. No one wanted her, he said. She was half the price of the others. She wasn’t show quality, and she didn’t come with papers, but I didn’t care. The moment I made eye contact with her I knew she was mine and I was hers.
Simon, of course, was pissed off when I came home with a dog. I told him it was only fair since he didn’t want children. That got him to shut up, and he never brought up the dog again. He pretty much went about his business as if she were never there, but I’m almost positive she was fine with that. She never cared for him anyway.
I ran my fingers through my messy bedhead and scanned each and every sidewalk around me, hoping she was darting in between people. The lady with the spaniel was gone.
“Yip!” I heard her up ahead. My eyes followed the sound and there she was turning the corner about a block ahead of me.
I’d never run that fast in my life, but I refu
sed to let her get away. The last thing I wanted was for her to dart out into traffic.
“Pretzel!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. It wasn’t like her not to listen. She was always glued to me.
I turned the corner expecting to blast off into a full-blown sprint to catch her but was stopped in my tracks at the sight of Beckett holding Pretzel in his arms. She was licking his face as he cradled her, nice and secure.
“Oh, my God,” I heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
Relief washed over me as I reached for my baby.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I went on. “I was so scared.”
I squeezed her tight and gripped her leash with fierce intensity.
“I thought she looked familiar,” Beckett said as he reached over and patted her head.
“She normally doesn’t take off like that,” I huffed. My hand and knees were still throbbing from my fall.
“You know, I know a really great dog trainer here in the city,” he said. “I could give him a call and see if he’ll take her for you? A week with him and she’ll never take off like that again.”
I couldn’t bear to spend a week without her, but maybe it was for the best. I almost lost her that day. I refused to let it happen again. “That would be great.”
“So where are you headed today?” My eyes scanned him up and down. His khaki trench coat and gray slacks piqued my curiosity.
“Just went out to grab a paper and a coffee,” he said. The Wall Street Journal was tucked neatly under his left arm.
“You know you can get those delivered,” I said as I eyed his newspaper.
“It’s nice to get out sometimes,” he said. “Go for an early morning walk.”
“You dress like that for your walks?” I was confused. Did he not own jeans or sweat pants?
“I’m meeting a friend for breakfast in a little bit,” he said. “Didn’t want to have to change clothes twice.”
“Oh,” I said. I shouldn’t have been so inquisitive. It was really none of my business.
“So there’s this new exhibit at this art gallery downtown,” he said. “I don’t know if you’re into that kind of thing. The artist is Monte Montgomery. He does mostly modern impressionistic paintings.”
“Monte Montgomery?!” My jaw dropped. “He’s one of my favorite artists! I have four of his pieces! Well, I had four of his pieces…”
“So you want to go then?” he asked. “Maybe later this afternoon?”
“This afternoon?” I hesitated. My Sunday afternoons were almost always reserved for Taylor, and I didn’t want to seem too desperate. We’d just hung out the night before. Things were moving way too fast. “I can’t.”
His face fell at my answer.
“I have plans already.” I bit my lip and searched for a sign that he wasn’t taking that as a rejection.
“I understand,” he said.
Pretzel began to squirm in my arms, a hint that she wanted to get down again. I carefully sat her on the sidewalk and reeled in the leash so that she could only walk right next to me. “I should probably head back.”
“Sure,” he said, his voice low.
“I’ll see you around?” I gave a wave and turned back towards the apartment building.
CHAPTER 6
Seven days. Seven whole days since I’d last seen or heard from Beckett. I should have gone with him to the art gallery. I was quite sure he was feeling rejected. That had to be it. He seemed so crazy about me and then…nothing.
My finger hovered above his name in my phone before hastily typing a quick message to him.
ARE YOU AT HOME?
I sat my phone down on the counter and refilled my water bottle. Either he wasn’t going to respond at all or he was going to take his sweet time. That’s how men operated I was sure. At least that’s how Simon operated, not that he was representative of most men. I threw myself on the sofa and resolved myself to the fact that I didn’t know the first thing about dating anymore.
The second my head hit the armrest of the sofa, my phone vibrated on the counter.
“That was quick,” I mumbled as I ran over to grab it.
YES.
I laughed a quick laugh.
DRINKS ON THE BALCONY? I’M BORED.
I quickly deleted the part about being bored. I didn’t want him to think he was some sort of last resort for me.
BE THERE IN A BIT.
My heart skipped a beat. I darted off to my room to freshen up and change clothes, and within thirty minutes he was knocking at my door.
“Hey,” I said. “Look at you, all dressed up.”
His charcoal slacks, white shirt, and skinny, navy tie seemed a little overdone for drinks on the balcony. He gave me a quick once-over, and I suddenly felt way underdressed for the occasion in my leggings and tank.
“This is for you,” he said as he handed me a flower arrangement wrapped up in tan paper. “And this.”
In his other hand was a large, blue bag from Tiffany and Company. Did he know that was my favorite store or did he just assume all women liked to shop there?
“What’s this?” I asked with a smirk. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Beckett.”
“I know you’ve been moved in for a while now, but I never did get you a housewarming gift.”
I sat the bag on the counter and reached inside, feeling something smooth hidden between layers of white tissue paper. “A crystal vase? It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
The vase clinked on the counter and reflected off the late afternoon light that poured in through the windows.
“Pink hydrangeas?” I said as I unwrapped them. I held the bouquet up to my nose and breathed in the familiar, sweet smell that took me back to my childhood in Tennesee. My mom had a million blue, pink, and green hydrangea bushes all over our property and I took great pride in helping her maintain them. “How’d you know these were my favorite?”
So far he was two for two with the Tiffany vase and the hydrangeas.
“I didn’t,” he said. “Lucky guess?”
I sauntered up to him, coyly, and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you.”
I pressed away but my arms stayed in place. Once again, he smelled amazing.
“Wine okay?” I asked him.
“Mm, hmm,” he said. He was staring at my lips as if he wanted to devour them.
“Go make yourself at home on the balcony,” I instructed. I’d just had new outdoor furniture delivered, a loveseat and two tables, and I had been waiting to put them to good use all week.
I uncorked a bottle of a sweet, dessert red and headed outside with two glasses in hand. “Here you are.”
Beckett was seated on the loveseat with his legs crossed wide in front of him and his arm across the backrest. I slinked in next to him and took a sip of my wine. I wanted to nuzzle in close with him. I wanted to do a lot of things with him. But I also wanted to take things slow. My self-control was slowly slipping away with each passing moment.
“It’s a beautiful night,” I said with a sigh. “It’s going to be getting cold soon.”
“Not a fan of winter?”
“Nope,” I said. “I usually try to go somewhere warm for a couple of weeks. I don’t know if that’s going to work out this year unless I want to go with my parents or something.”
He laughed. “Maybe we can go somewhere?”
“Really?” I was taken aback.
“If you want,” he said. “I mean, if you’re still talking to me in a few months. I don’t mean to be presumptive, but I’m pretty sure you will be.”
“Beckett!” I laughed. “You seem a little sure of yourself there.”
“I’m sure about a lot of things,” he said in a low voice, his eyes locked. “I’m just a man who knows exactly what he wants.”
I was almost sure I’d heard Simon mutter those exact same words once upon a time, but I forced that memory out of my mind the moment it appeared. Beckett was nothing like Simon.
Beckett’s hand slipped around my shoulders as he pulled me in close and kissed my forehead. He was taking things slow and rightfully so. I’d put the brakes on a lot of things lately.
I lifted my chin and met his lips with mine. I couldn’t resist any longer. The warm glow of the sunset, the wine coursing through my body, his arm wrapped around me – it was all too much. I had to be with him.
Beckett - Book 1 Page 4
