“What about you? I know you have brothers, loads of them, but they’re not around here, are they?”
“Well, two of them were just in town,” I said quickly.
“Really?”
I smiled, thinking of my big brothers and their growly attitudes. “Yes, but it was for work. Actually, they’re all getting out of the military soon, and they want me to move down to where we spent the most time—home.”
Beckett’s eyes widened, and he reached out, placing his hand on my arm for a moment before he dropped it. I tried not to think of the warmth on my skin. What was wrong with me?
“You mean Texas? You’re moving?”
“No, I’m not. At least, I don’t think so.” I started to ramble. “I mean, I don’t know. I like it up here. I have friends. My brothers would be down there, so I don’t know. It’s just a lot right now, and with everything coming up soon and then this meeting with my in-laws, I really don’t want to think about any of it. Is that okay?” I asked, tears threatening to fall.
Beckett cursed under his breath, lowered the toolbox, and opened his arms. “Come here.”
“I’m not letting you hug me,” I whispered.
“Why not”? he growled.
I did not like that growl. Not one bit. I was fine. I wasn’t going to think about the fact that it did things to me that I didn’t need to think about. I sighed and stepped forward into his arms. I wrapped mine around his waist, and he held me close. I did my best not to inhale his masculine scent. I didn’t want to know what he smelled like. I didn’t want to acknowledge what it did to me.
Something was seriously wrong with me.
I was about to see my late husband’s parents. I shouldn’t be thinking about another man. This was wrong on so many levels.
“Anyway,” I said as I pulled back and sniffed. “I’m fine. I’m going to see my in-laws, have a nice brunch, maybe a glass of champagne, and then come home and wash my hair.”
His gaze moved to the top of my head, and I blushed, mortified that I had let that slip.
“There’s something wrong with your hair?” he asked, a laugh in his voice.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, if you need me, I’ll be around. I promise I’ll call next time.”
“You’re a good man, Beckett.”
“You keep saying that,” he said with a sigh. “A good man would have called instead of just showing up and taking your time. I don’t want you to be late.”
I cursed and looked down at my watch again. “You’re right. I am going to be late. However, thank you. I mean it. And thank you in advance for helping me with any handyman things I need. I’ll talk to you soon.” I rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek then ran to my car.
It wasn’t until I was pulling out of the driveway, leaving him standing on my walkway, that I realized I had just kissed Beckett Montgomery’s cheek. Something I had never done before. What in the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t that I wanted to want Beckett—I didn’t know if I wanted to want anyone. I just needed to breathe.
The first anniversary of my husband’s death was coming up, and while I thought about him every day, it wasn’t the same sinking feeling I’d had before. I was finding my way. My purpose. I had a new home, a job that I loved, and friends. So what if I had just kissed Beckett’s cheek? It wasn’t sexual. I might have wanted to sniff him and hold him a little longer, but it had been a while since I’d touched a man, so I could be forgiven. Marshall had been gone for months before he died overseas. It had been a very long time since I’d had anyone but myself and whatever toy I could find.
Maybe I just needed some encouragement. A little tenderness.
Or really hot sex.
I shouldn’t be thinking about any of that, especially when I was on my way to see Beverly and Clarence. I pulled into the small bistro on the other side of town and parked close to the front. I sighed and ran my hands over my linen pants and top, figuring I looked good enough.
Bracing myself for whatever mood they were in, I walked in. They were already there, halfway through their first drink. At least, I hoped it was their first drink. I was only five minutes late, but that meant I was an hour late in military time.
Beverly looked up when I walked towards them and gave me a smile. “Oh, we were worried about you. We were just about to call.”
I leaned down, kissed her cheek, then did the same to Clarence’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.” I didn’t offer an excuse. Telling Beverly that I’d been held up by work, distraction, and by Beckett Montgomery wouldn’t matter. I was late, and there was no excuse. Even my parents had hammered that into me.
I sat down across from Beverly and next to Clarence and smiled as the waiter brought me a glass of peach Bellini.
“This was pre-ordered for you. I hope it’s okay,” the waiter said.
I smiled at him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” I looked at my in-laws. “Thank you.”
“No worries, we know you love Bellinis. So do we.” Beverly smiled and took a sip.
I did the same, letting the fruity sweetness settle on my tongue. I did love Bellinis. Marshall had hated them. He’d never liked anything mixed into his drinks. I always found it funny, but that meant that I never had to ensure that mine were safe from him like Beverly had to do with Clarence. If Beverly didn’t drink quickly enough, Clarence would take the rest of hers and finish it off. I always thought it was cute, and the two laughed about it, but I never had that with Marshall. Marshall always had his own drink.
“How’s work going?” I asked, and the two looked at each other and then at me.
“It’s going just fine,” Clarence answered. They owned a small advertising firm and were slowly on their way to retirement. I was honestly shocked that they were still working as hard as they were, and they’d only worked harder after Marshall passed. Then again, so had I. We all needed to do something.
I’d always found it hard to find a connection to the places I lived rather than the people I left behind. I’d never stayed in place for long, and it wasn’t until marrying Marshall that I’d begun to grow roots. Before moving to Colorado, the place I’d stayed the longest had been Texas, but that hadn’t felt like the home I had now because of the connections I had made. I didn’t have anyone in Colorado other than my found family, the one I had made, and Marshall’s parents.
“We’re doing well,” Beverly added. “We’re working more because we need to fill another savings account,” she said.
I blinked at the tone of her voice, wondering what I was missing. “Is something wrong with your retirement? I know the stock market had a little dip, but I didn’t think it had affected everyone.”
Marshall’s parents gave each other a look, and I set down my drink, foreboding sliding up my spine and settling in my stomach.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have a few things to discuss with you,” she said softly and cleared her throat.
“Is something wrong? Are you guys okay? Oh, no. Do you need money for something for your health? Talk to me.”
She let out a sigh and tapped her fingers on the table. When the waiter came to take our order, she waved him off, and the foreboding just clung harder.