Life Unwritten

by T. I. Lowe

  “Is it necessary for him to be spending the night?” Jack fires back before I can answer.

  I raise my palms to halt their spitting match. I had no idea Beck even stayed the night. “Yes and yes.” I move over to the coffeepot and retrieve a cup before going to take a seat. Thinking better of it, I decide to just lean against the counter instead of taking the stool between these two pouting men. “What’s up, Jack?” I ask after my second sip.

  He glances at Beck and then back to me, looking uncertain, which is quite an odd look for him. “Just wanted to see how you are after the weekend’s crap storm.”

  There’s my eloquent friend. “No worries. I already slipped last night and blew my cover.”

  Jack’s back straightens, looking offended, yet another alien emotion for him. “Oh.”

  I guess his ego took a blow on this one. It’s been only our secret, but now I’ve gone and shared it with someone outside our little bubble.

  “Don’t be like that. It’s over now and I don’t have to keep it a secret any longer.” My voice becomes hoarse at the end with remembering my new reality.

  He reaches over and entwines his fingers with mine. “Darlin’, I know it doesn’t feel like it at the moment, but I promise this is for the best.”

  Beck clears his throat and glares at our interlocked hands.

  Jack huffs, gives my hand one last reassuring squeeze before releasing it. “No need in having a hissy fit, man.”

  Beck ignores him and eyes me. “I was going to make you breakfast, but there’s nothing in the fridge besides protein shakes. We need to go grocery shopping.”

  Dang, he’s grouchy, and it’s making me antsy to find out what I missed this morning. But I do like how he said “we” in there. Are we a couple now?

  Jack fires back again with the same amount of vinegar. “That is her breakfast, you schmuck. Seems like that’s something you should already know before sharing a bed with her.”

  With anger radiating off his substantial form, Beck stands abruptly, making Jack and I both flinch. Instead of pounding my friend to a pulp, he stalks off to the bedroom, slamming the door with enough force to make the hinges cry out.

  “Holy heck! I thought he was about to hand me a butt whooping.”

  I’m torn between going in there to check on him and staying out here with Jack. I decide to stay put for the moment.

  “Do you mind telling me what I missed? Do you deserve a butt whooping?”

  He snorts. “He’s acting like a little baby because I caught him here.”

  “Tell me what you said or did to set him off.”

  He smirks. “Who says I said or did anything?”

  I take another sip of coffee, waiting for an answer, because he obviously did.

  “I was just joking around, but he ain’t got a lick of sense of humor.”

  “Jackson Calloway, what did you say?”

  He shrugs again and takes a sip from his cup. “I only said it’d be hilarious for us both to crawl into your bed and give you a wake-up call you’d never forget. He didn’t find it funny.”

  I reach over and pop him good on the arm. “You’re so bad. Not everyone gets your crazy brand of vulgarity.”

  “I know.” He looks over his shoulder. “Seriously, the dude balled his fists and was about to come at me swinging until I apologized.”

  “I can’t believe I slept through all that.”

  Jack points toward the den, sending my attention through the arched walkway. “You even slept through that, too.”

  The couch has been moved, so there’s no longer an alcove between it and the wall. “When did that happen?”

  “After I apologized. Said if I woke you, he’d deliver those fists to my face. I’ve never moved furniture so quietly before.” Jack stands and places his cup in the dishwasher before giving me a hug. “I agree with him. It’s time for you to stop hiding.”

  I silently watch him leave without even replying, and then look at the rearranged furniture. It strikes me hard that these two care enough to call me out on my issues. Blinking back the tears threatening, I go to check on my brooding guest.

  As soon as I open the door, a flume of steam floats by me. I hear the shower running.

  “Is your girlfriend still here?” He calls out from the bathroom.

  I can’t help but smile at his jab. “No. Jack’s gone. He sends his apologies if he offended your delicate sensitivities.” It was too tempting not to poke back.

  The shower cuts off and before I can blink, Beck is standing in front of me with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He lifts me to the top of the dresser, making us eye level. “You and I know there’s nothing delicate about me.”

  I nearly swallow my tongue, but manage to say, “I couldn’t agree more.” I’m not sure I should enjoy being manhandled by him so much, but there’s no denying I do. “Where did you sleep last night?”

  He hitches a thumb over his damp shoulder. I look over it and find a pillow and blanket on the floor beside my bed. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.” He leans in and gives me a soft kiss.

  “That was delicate.” I start to tease, sending him to reclaim my lips in a searing kiss.

  Beck draws back suddenly and says, “I’m starving. Let’s get dressed and grab some food.”

  Beck wasn’t kidding about starving, only giving me enough time to get dressed and then quickly swinging by his house for him to change into a fresh shirt and jeans. Him clad in jeans is just wow. My eyes are trained on those thick thighs covered in the worn denim as they work to change the gears. He pulls the Jeep into a diner I’ve never been to, which is no surprise since I rarely go out to eat.

  “Why don’t you just grab some stuff to go and I’ll sit tight,” I suggest.

  Beck is already out the driver’s door and rounding the back to open mine. “No. I’m starved and need to eat now.” He grasps my hand and pulls me out, leaving no room for argument. The man is something serious about his food.

  After we’re seated in one of the booths with retro vinyl that sparkles and given menus, I feel the anxiety begin to tingle up my spine. The heavy smell of grease and coffee wafts through the place as the chatter of people and the clattering of dishes mingle with the song playing from the corner jukebox.

  “Y’all know what ya want?” the bubbly waitress with at least three ink pens sticking out of her auburn hair bun asks.

  Beck eyes me. I shake my head, meaning I’m not eating, but he seems to misinterpret. “Can you give us a few?”

  “Sure, honey. Can I start y’all with coffee?”

  “Sounds good.” He offers her a small smile before turning his attention to the menu. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “I’m just going to have coffee.” I gaze around, taking in the cliché diner décor of the black-and-white checkered floor and neon signs.

  “It’s almost noon. You need more than just coffee.” He slides my discarded menu closer.

  “I’ll have a protein shake when we get back home. I’m good for now.” My stomach betrays me, and lets out a loud, mean growl.

  Those aqua eyes look up from the menu. The edge of sternness has them narrowing slightly.

  The waitress brings over the cups of coffee and places them on the table, breaking me and the sergeant’s staring standoff. “Y’all decided?”

  Beck glances back at me. “Any food allergies?”

  “Just chocolate. Makes my hips swell,” I fire back, thinking that was cute. From the look he’s cutting me, the sergeant doesn’t agree. Huffing, I answer, “None.”

  “Any food dislikes?” he asks.

  I want to smart off again, but go for honesty. “Celery.”

  He looks to the waitress and orders, “She’ll have the veggie omelet with a side of fresh fruit. And I’ll have the same, but could you make mine with three eggs and add a side of whole wheat toast?”

  “You got it, honey.” She winks over at me, gathers the menus, and heads to the kitchen.

 
; I take a sip of coffee finding it bitter, but drink it anyway.

  “Tell me your daily meal plan,” he orders before taking a sip from his cup.

  I shrug and ramble off, “Protein shake, protein bar, and frozen diet meal. Sometimes Jack will drag me out or bring something over. And I always stick with lean protein and low carb vegetables.” I’m proud of this, but Beck doesn’t look impressed.

  “You’re setting yourself up to fail.” He stretches his long arm along the back of the booth, the air of casual grace emanating from his imposing form.

  How does he pull that off?

  Snapping out of my ogling, I ask, “How?”

  “From what you’ve said, you went from binge eating to practically depriving yourself of most foods. What you’re doing now is really no healthier.”

  I scoff and flick my hand toward him. “What are you, an expert?”

  He leans closer, that intimidation he loves to show off back in place. “As a matter of fact, I am. Bachelors in Diet and Nutrition and a Masters in Psychology. I used my sixteen years in the military wisely and got an education.”

  That was unexpected and firmly shuts down the argument I was working to deliver. No wonder the man is so dang good at manipulation.

  The food is delivered and smells heavenly, but the packed diner causes a slight nausea to worry the back of my throat. I expect Beck to dig right in, but he sits and stares at me.

  “Eat, Harper.”

  “I think I’ll just have it boxed up for later.” I watch the steam rise from the fluffy omelet and try not to breathe its enticing aroma in too deeply. I’ve tried my darnedest in the last few years to not let food be an enjoyment, viewing it only as fuel needed for my body. The meal I shared with him and now this omelet is making that line blurry.

  “Eat it now while it’s hot.” He unwraps my silverware and places it in my hand.

  I set the utensils beside the plate and drink some more of the coffee, instead.

  He heaves out a frustrated breath. “Tell me.”

  My eyes roam around the diner, feeling like I’m being watched. “I don’t like to eat in front of crowds.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “We’ve already had this conversation,” I snap.

  “Look at me,” Beck snaps back, drawing my attention away from the crowd. “What others think about you shouldn’t matter. Don’t let anyone have the power over your self-worth.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then hold your stubborn head up high and eat.” He points his fork to my plate.

  Picking up my fork and slicing a piece of the egg off, I hesitate at putting it into my mouth when I spot a guy looking at me across from our booth. “People are watching me,” I mutter under my breath.

  Beck scans the diner and catches the guy looking. “The only one staring at you is that guy.” He points directly at the stranger, making the guy’s eyes scurry back to his stack of pancakes. “He’s looking because you are beautiful, and if he doesn’t stop I’m gonna kick his teeth in.” Beck is still directing the conversation to the stranger, but the man doesn’t dare look up from his table.

  “Alright, alpha male, calm yourself.” I take the bite in hopes of appeasing him enough to leave the guy alone. It’s buttery and my taste buds rejoice, but I beg them to go back dormant.

  For the remainder of the meal Beck keeps his cool and I manage to eat half of the omelet before giving it to him to finish. He seems to sense that’s as good as he’s gonna get out of me eating and polishes off the rest.

  “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” I ask once we arrive back to the house. I get out, thinking Beck’s going to follow, but he stays seated behind the wheel.

  “I have a few personal training sessions later, so I need to get going.”

  “Oh… Okay.” A twinge of disappointment nudges at me.

  Beck leans over the passenger seat and drags me back in for a kiss. “See you in the morning. It’s the last class, so no skipping and no being late,” he says against my lips, kissing me deeply once more before leaning away.

  “Yes, sir,” I sass before slamming the door and heading inside. The grin on my face is almost painful. His bossiness has grown on me.

  The rest of my lonely day passes with me holed up in the office, typing a few chapters, querying a few agents, while ignoring the emptiness I feel without Beck being around. No type of dependence is healthy, so I know I don’t need to get attached to him, but that’s a whole lot easier said than done.

  Chapter Eleven

  The sun is high in the sky, allowing a lull in the cool breeze, but my grin remains in place with no lull to that in sight. It’s been glued there way past the last boot camp session. I made it through class without running off at the mouth. Beck called me to the front of the group before dismissing us. After the big lug tossed me over his shoulder, he informed the group that even though he’d contemplated my murder at a few points along the way, he decided he’d rather keep me. Poor Nadine had to pay up along with the others who bet on the murdering side of things.

  “You look goofy just sitting there smiling like that,” Jack says, pulling me from my thoughts. He plops down on the lounge chair beside mine while loosening his tie.

  “Where’ve you been all dressed up?” I ask, eyeing him. Jack normally sports button-downs and dress slacks, but today he’s added a tie and jacket.

  “Just closed on a new property. We start the renovations next week.”

  “Another restaurant?”

  Stretching out, he places his arms over his head as his eyes droop. “Yes. Italian.” He yawns and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I’m naming it Calloway’s Trattoria.”

  “Dang, Jack, that’s impressive.”

  He mumbles an incoherent response and seems to doze off immediately.

  “You’ve got to stop burning the candle at both ends,” I comment, but he doesn’t respond. My friend works way too hard.

  I remain silent for a while, enjoying the quiet beach from my deck as he softly snores. The rampant tourist season is finally behind us so the day feels pretty tranquil. Thirty or so minutes later, Jack rouses back awake but looks worse for wear, so I brew a pot of fresh coffee.

  “Have you heard back from any of the agents yet?” Jack drains the cup and grabs mine from my hands.

  I reach over and brush the unruly lock off of his forehead. “No, but Maxine emailed me yesterday.”

  Jack suddenly looks wide awake. “What did that bat want?”

  The lock flops back onto his forehead. He reaches his fingers through it and sends it back into the proper place.

  I glance back over the waves before saying, “She’s found a publisher who wants to pick up the Breaker’s series.”

  “No, Harper. Not that road again.” He grunts, handing my cup back.

  “No one else wants me, Jack. I don’t feel like I have any other choice.”

  Jack sits up and faces me, his arms braced on his knees. “Darlin’, there’s always another choice. Please promise me you’ll be patient and wait for it.”

  “I can’t promise that.” I worry the hem of my frayed jean shorts, not wanting to meet the disappointment that is surely reflecting from his brown eyes.

  “I thought you wanted more. You deserve it.”

  “Maybe Maxine was right about me being greedy.”

  “Bull. You’re just chickening out because the challenge is too hard.”

  My gaze snaps up to meet his. “Thanks a lot.”

  “You know I’m gonna tell you like it is, whether you like it or not.”

  “And you need to realize this is my choice, and I’ll do what I feel is right for my career.”

  He points at me, glare in place, as he stands up. “I’ve never been more disappointed in you than I am right now.”

  “Why are you taking this so personal? It’s my life!”

  “Because you’re cowering out! Grow up, Harper, and live it like a woman. Not a scared little girl, hiding b
ehind any and every thing she can find.”

  Stunned, all I can do is stay glued to the lounge chair and watch him storm inside. To say that’s the harshest Jack has ever been to me is an understatement. Several minutes pass before I hear the front door slam and his car pull away.

  “Knock, knock,” Nadine says as she steps onto the deck, startling me.

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “Nice to see you, too.” She takes Jack’s spot on the lounge chair. “I met your friend out front. He told me I’d find you back here. Umm… I thought you were with Beck?”

  I take the time to look her over. “You clean up good, Nadine. This is the first time I’ve seen you in something besides workout gear.”

  She smooths the skirt of her maxi dress while crossing her ankles. “Thanks, but you didn’t answer me.”

  “You distracted me with your pretty hairdo and dress,” I tease.

  “I already told you I don’t kiss girls,” she taunts back.

  “Jack is a friend I’ve had since childhood,” I finally answer.

  “Oh. Well, you keep some stunning company.” She whistles low.

  I nod my head in agreement. “What’s up with you today?”

  “My mother-in-law is visiting for a week. Told me to get dressed and get out of the house, so she could spoil her grandbabies in peace.”

  I chuckle. “So why in the heck are you here?”

  She shrugs. “It’s the first place that popped in my head after I cranked the van. You wanna go hang out somewhere?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’d love to go get a manicure and pedicure.”

  “But that means strangers will be touching you.” My nose wrinkles, causing her to laugh.

  “Yes, weirdo. That’s a part of it, but the ladies at the salon never bite.” She stands and yanks on my arm until I join her. “Come on.”

  Thinking this will go one of two ways—I could completely freak out or I may actually find the nail grooming pleasant—I decide to take her up on the offer. Either way, it’ll get my mind off of letting Jack down.

  Turns out, nail grooming isn’t so bad. It was sort of pleasant. I couldn’t give in to the whole foot washing and massaging idea, but settled for a polishing.