Southerin Nights and Secrets (Boys are Back in Town)

by Robin Covington

  “Beckett, I need to find my feet again. I’ve been in constant free fall, and all I can see is the ground flying up at me. I’m barely able to brace for impact.” Now was the time for total honesty. “You’re too much of a risk for me right now. You’re a wonderful man, and if I had my job settled, my future plans under some control, I could manage having a tornado in my life. But all of my anchors are gone and I’m lost. I’ve lost everything—”

  “Not everything,” he ground out, his jaw tight with his own emotions. Hostility and anger wafted off like a cologne, and she trembled a little at his reaction. Happy-go-lucky Beckett was gone, and this man was the one who sucked her in with his intensity and passion. If anything could have solidified her conviction that she needed to get away from him and find her equilibrium, this was it.

  She sucked in a breath at what she saw in his eyes, and she had to lay out the whole truth. “You scare the shit out of me, Beckett. It’s absolutely fucking terrifying when I think of how I went head-to-head with Bent for you because while it crossed my mind that he might fire me, I totally kicked that worry to the curb.” She pointed at him, with a fervor that shook her to her core. “That I did that? Its scares me to death, and I need to regroup—”

  “You need to hide, you mean.”

  “Call it what you want.” She crossed her arms with finality. “It’s what I’m going to do. It’s what I need to do.”

  So much hurt and pain between them, flowing like the river of time under their feet as they stood on opposite ends of the bridge. But she couldn’t make the crossing—not now.

  He stared at her, his fist clenching and unclenching with white knuckle power. She braced for the fight, surprised when he turned and strode to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Beckett pulled her to him with a tug bordering on rough, his body vibrating with his emotions.

  He leaned down and captured her mouth, the gentleness of the earlier kiss forgotten and laid waste by the fire that burned her to ash. She didn’t open fast enough and he bit her lower lip, demanding entrance as he shoved her back against the arm of sofa. She used the leverage to push back against him, forcing his mouth open for her tongue. Virginia sucked and nibbled, dominating him as best she could from her subordinate position.

  For a man with only one good hand, Beckett touched her everywhere. Drags of calloused fingers against the exposed skin of her throat, teasing strokes against her nipples, the warmth of his palm against the flesh of her belly when he dove underneath her shirt. The tease of his fingertips as they slipped under her sweats and underwear to caress her slick folds.

  His touch was sure, almost punishing with its dedication to taking her there quickly, and she was okay with it. She needed this, needed to feel this with him one last time.

  Virginia ripped her mouth away from his and attacked his jeans with fingers trembling with need. A quick unzip and his hot cock was in her hand, Beckett’s hips flexing in a rhythm that matched the thrum of his fingers against her clit. He nuzzled her neck, the sweet spot behind her ear, his harsh scalding breaths cooling quickly and raising goosebumps on her body. His teeth grazed and then bit down on the elongated tendon of her neck, and she moaned.

  “Come on, Gin,” he growled. “Give it to me one more time. Just one more time let me see you melt all over me.”

  She was right there, so close she could taste the sweet tang of her orgasm on her tongue. Virginia tilted her head up, silently requesting the kiss he freely gave as her hand sped up in its up and down, pull and tug on his length. He was leaking and the moisture, combined with the snap of his hips into her grip, told her that he was as close she was.

  Virginia broke first, her own cry wrenching her mouth away from his as she yelled out her own pleasure. It was sharp, fast, flirting with an edge of pain, and she didn’t want it to ever stop.

  “Fuck yeah. That’s gorgeous,” Beckett said, his voice gravely and hitching in his throat as he thrust into her grip. His hand joined her own around his cock, and together they jacked him for a few, hard strokes until he came with a shudder and a full body slump against as his breath caught and stuttered. “Gonna miss this,” he whispered and she tugged him closer, her tight hold on him her only answer or agreement.

  They stayed that way for a few moments, harsh breaths especially loud in the silence of her condominium. Virginia was shaken, her mind reeling as her body tingled all over from the Beckett-induced endorphin rush.

  He stirred first, silently drawing away from her, going through the motions of cleaning them both up and fastening his jeans. When he finally looked at her they just stared, examining each other, memorizing.

  Just when the tension got to the point of pain he turned away and headed for the door, stopping when his hand grasped the knob and he pulled it open.

  His voice was soft, devoid of any extreme emotion. “Just for the record, that was good-bye.”

  And then the door shut behind him and she was left with her boxes, tape, memories, and regret.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  This wedding did not make him twitchy.

  Beck didn’t enjoy weddings as a rule—he enjoyed willing bridesmaids—but weddings made him uncomfortable. All that love and family and forever acted like a spotlight on all the reasons why he was the world’s worst bet when it came to all that happily-ever-after stuff. But he’d been to three weddings in the last year that had slowly made him reconsider his position.

  Standing here with his three best friends—his brothers—and their indisputably classy, beautiful, and clearly insane wives made something inside him ache for things he’d long ago told himself he could not have. He’d never made promises he could not keep to a woman who looked at him the way that Michaela, Taylor, and Risa looked at Jackson, Lucky, and Teague.

  But he wanted to make those promises, or his own version of those promises, and he wanted to make them to one person. The one woman who’d told him that their time had run out. The one woman who would not stay long enough for him to figure it all out.

  Ginger.

  Who right now stood on the opposite side of the reception tent looking delicious and sexy and like she had totally moved on. Peter was back at her side, and they looked so right together it made him clench his teeth in a grip that was going to require dental intervention.

  He bet Peter didn’t scare her or make her question her own footing. And how could Beck deny her the security she needed? Because it wasn’t just words with her, he knew it and that’s why he was letting her walk away. Sometime in the past two weeks his anger had morphed into unhappy resignation, but when she was close and yet a galaxy away, it was hard to swallow.

  “Thanks man,” Teague said, wrapping his arms around Beck in a huge hug and drawing him out of his own thoughts. Beck didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, ignoring the slight stinging pull at his gunshot wound site. The stitches were gone but it was still sore and protested when he did too much. “That was an awesome best man speech. You didn’t violate any of my mother’s rules and still managed to piss her off.”

  “Your mom said I couldn’t mention hookers, drunken binges, or that week we went to the Dominican Republic.” Beck grinned and waved at Mrs. Elliott as he pulled back, catching the eye roll as she directed the waitstaff to pass the plates of cake to the guests. When he continued to stare at her, she blushed and blew him a kiss before she turned away to commandeer the troops. “She’s not really mad. It’s her fault for not including goats and waking up naked on the United Methodist Women’s ‘Salute to our Veteran’s’ float the fourth of July before we went to college.”

  “Yeah. I think that’s the first time Reverend Parker heard that one. Thanks a lot for that.” Teague lightly smacked him upside the head before holding his hand out to his wife, drawing her into the conversation. Beck glanced away from them for a moment, the look that passed between them was like the sun, almost too bright to take in directly without risking blindness.

  “That’s what you get for asking me to be your best
man. I warned you.” Beck wrapped Risa in his one good arm and gave her a hug and a kiss. “At least you have better taste in wives.”

  He stepped back and gave her a thorough once-over. The redhead was always stunning, alive and moving with a dancer’s grace, but tonight she was achingly beautiful in her white strapless gown with the emerald green tie around her waist. Teague was a lucky man.

  “Risa. You’re glowing tonight.” He cocked his head at her. “Marriage to this doofus clearly agrees with you.”

  “That’s Mrs. Doofus to you,” she shot back at him with a smile as she leaned into her husband’s arms. “And that’s no way to talk about the father of my baby.”

  Beck blinked, his brain buzzing with the champagne toast they’d had earlier because he surely hadn’t heard her right. Teague was the planner, the long-term strategy guy, and the only thing he’d ever done that was out of sync with the perfectly laid plans he’d made in the womb was to fall in love with Risa. The thought that he’d gotten her knocked up before the wedding blew Beck’s simple human mind.

  Their matching grins and Teague’s hand sliding up to cover his bride’s still flat belly confirmed that he’d heard her right.

  “William Teague Elliott, IV, don’t you know where babies come from?” Beck couldn’t resist teasing them as he engulfed them both in a bear hug. “I’m a doctor. I can tell you all about it.”

  “We planned it. We didn’t want to wait.” Teague shoved him away with a laugh.

  “Of course you did. I wouldn’t have expected anything else.” Beck raised his beer bottle to them in a salute. “Congratulations. That’s amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Risa said, leaning back to exchange a look with her husband of four hours. Beck knew that look. It was the silent exchange of communication between people who knew they were in it for the long haul, who completely trusted each other. So in sync that they knew each other’s thoughts. He envied them thistheir lovenot just a little bit. “I think we should ask him now.”

  “Yeah?” Teague asked, his eyebrows shooting up before he nodded in agreement and looked back at him. “Risa and I want you to be the baby’s godfather.”

  “What?” Beck felt the blood actually drain from his face and he swayed on his feet, the glass in his hand slipping a little. “You can’t…that’s a bad idea.”

  “Why?” Risa asked. “You’re great with kids.”

  “Pick Michaela and Jack, Lucky, Taylor.” He waved around the room. “There are a million people in this room who would be a better choice than me.”

  “I disagree,” Teague said in that “lawyer knows best” tone he used when he would not be moved from a point. “Beck, you’re my best friend in this world, my brother from the minute we got in that fight in middle school with those assholes who were giving you a hard time.”

  “Having your back in a fight and being a godfather are two very different things. You don’t want me influencing this kid.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Teague was on a roll, letting go of his bride to launch into his no doubt perfectly numbered and organized points. “Look at what you do for your DRAGON kids.”

  “I got shot.” He hoped that this little fact would knock some sense into Teague.

  “Exactly.”

  This was nuts.

  “The charity, the work you do with these kids, the way you took on Danny Vegait didn’t have anything to with obligation or guilt.” Teague shook his head, his expression serious, but a smile curved his lips into a grin that said he thought Beck was fucking clueless. “You did ityou do itbecause you love these kids. The people in your old neighborhood. Total strangers.” He stepped even closer and placed his hand on Beck’s shoulder. “Nobodybesides Risa and me is going to love this kid like you will. Nobody. I know that like I know Risa is the one.”

  Beck stared at him knowing in his bones that this was a futile battle. He would not win this argument with Teague. His only consolation was that in this town he’d be lucky to get five minutes a week with the kid with all of the Elliott women lining up to claim him or her. One big community safety net.

  But what stopped him was the conviction in his friend’s voice and words.

  “You really believe that?” Beck asked, his brain reeling, and he knew it wasn’t from the free flowing beverages.

  “I do.” His face was sure, his tone steady. Beck couldn’t say no.

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Yes. I’d be honored.”

  They hugged again, the slaps and laughter drawing the stares of other guests and the attention of Lucky and Jack who sauntered over to join the circle.

  “He say yes?” Lucky asked, his grin broad and his smile approving.

  “I did,” he answered, surprised at the low level of panic in his gut. Maybe he could do it after all. “It’s amazing news.”

  “The best,” Jack added.

  They all stood in a circle around him, and when he sneaked another glance at Ginger, Jack groaned out loud. She was hugging Sissy and Mrs. Elliott, clearly making her good-byes. He’d heard through the grapevine that she was leaving after the wedding, all of her stuff loaded in a U-Haul and parked in the condo parking lot. She had an interview with a hospital in a small Oregon town—two thousand seven hundred and thirty one miles away.

  “For God’s sake, please go talk to her,” he pleaded.

  “She made up her mind and was very clear on what she needs,” he said, noting Peter’s hand at her back, guiding her as they continued to say their good-byes. Ginger had made many friends while she was here, and they all wanted the chance to bid her farewell.

  “Did you tell her what you want? What you need? Did you even ask her to stay?” Jack continued. “Because I tell you she’s been around Michaela the last couple of days, and she is not a happy woman. She might be determined, but she’s not happy.”

  “She’s made up her mind.” And it was probably for the best. He was just as freaked out as she was, but he was willing to make the leap. She wasn’t. Once again, their timing sucked.

  “You jump off bridges miles up in the air. You face down Danny Vega at fucking gunpoint.” Lucky started ticking off the facts on his fingers. “You stood up to your old man and every asshole who tried to keep you on the streets, but you’re going to let her run off to Oregon without a fight?”

  He stared at him, not sure how to respond to all that, but he didn’t get the chance because Jack pushed him to look over to where Ginger stood with Peter, much closer to the exit. She glanced over and their gazes collided, the jolt of electrified awareness making him jump a little bit.

  Jack leaned in to murmur in his ear. “She’s going to go to Oregon and will wind up with Peter or a guy just like him. A nice guy. Somebody who probably deserves her and will give her a better life. I don’t know about you, but the idea of Michaela in some other man’s bed makes me want to kill something with my bare hands.”

  Beck understood that feeling. It was visceral. Elemental.

  When Ginger turned away and headed for the exit, he did what he did without thinking. He grabbed the microphone he’d used for the best man’s speech and turned it on. The squeal of feedback shrieked across the room, and everyone stopped talking, some of them putting their hands over their ears. He moved to the small dais where the head table sat. The noise stopped, and he had a full view of the wedding guests and Ginger.

  He glanced at Teague and Risa, worried that he was hijacking their wedding, but they were both beaming and the bride gave him a thumbs up.

  “Ginger Crawford, the thought of you leaving scares the shit out of me,” he said, looking at the minister and offering a quick apology. “Sorry Reverend Parker.” He continued as the crowd laughed at his speech so far. “Stay,” he continued, plowing ahead when she started shaking her head in the negative. “I know it’s scary. I know you don’t have a job, and you feel like your entire world was shaken off its axis and it terrifies you.”

  Peter stepped up and yelled across the room. His
face red with his anger. “This is ridiculous. You can’t just do this at a wedding reception.”

  “No Pete. I can. This is inevitable, fate.” Beck spared him a glance but quickly turned back to Ginger. “You just stepped in the middle of something that’s never been over. You know it and I know it. Accept it.”

  He ignored Pete’s bluster, refusing to allow any barrier between him and Ginger.

  “Gin, I’m scared, too. Terrified. I have no idea how to do this or whether I’ll suck at it or not. But I’m more afraid that we’re going to miss this second chance that we’ve been given, and we’ll never get another one.” He stepped off the dais and the crowd parted like he was Moses, clearing a path for him straight to Ginger. He moved to her, close enough to run his fingertips along the smooth skin of her cheek, noting how her lips trembled, the dilated pupils of her eyes. Her breasts brushed against his chest with very ragged breath, and he relaxed a little, knowing she was feeling it, too. He continued to speak into the microphone, making this pledge in front of the people who’d helped him become the man he wasflaws and all. “I don’t have any guarantees about your job, but I promise that no matter what happens, I’ll be there to catch you. You will never be in a free fall where I’m not right there with you ever again.”

  “Beckett,” she whispered, her big, brown eyes shimmering with her unshed tears. But she didn’t say no or try to pull away. She was right there on the edge, and he was going for broke, uttering the words he’d never said before.

  “I love you.” He swallowed hard, choked up by the emotion rising from the depths of his soul. “I’m reckless. The natural son of a convicted criminal and the adopted child of two of the best people I know. I have a bad temper and a terrible sense of humor. I leap before I even think about looking, and I have bigger balls than sense half the time. But there will never be anybody who will love you more than I do.”

  He took a deep breath, gripping both of her arms and tugging her closer. “A really smart woman told me that perfect timing was a combination of the right time and the right one. Well, I’m the right oneyour right one and this is our time and we would be fools to let it pass.” He brushed a kiss across her mouth, the next words coming out in more of a prayer than a plea. “Don’t go to Oregon. Don’t leave Elliott. Stay here with me. Let this be our time, and let’s never let it end ever again.”