“What about your parents’ house?” she blurted, stunned that he didn’t have a place to call home.
“When I left, Dad told me that once I moved out, I wasn’t moving back in. They donated my bedroom set to Goodwill. I think Mom has a box of keepsakes in the attic. When I see them at Christmas, I stay in a hotel.”
Daisy tipped her head to the side in sympathy. “Well, you’re welcome here anytime.”
“I don’t know. I hear couch real estate doesn’t come cheap,” he said with a glint in his eye.
She laughed. “It comes at a price.” She waved her arm, indicating the bags of clothing.
“Thanks, Daisy. Today was … fun.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. I didn’t think shopping would be a good time, but you made it interesting. I’ll never look at my back pockets the same again.”
“You’d better not.” She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He charged at her and she ran down the hallway, shutting her door and laughing. The pillow hit the wood with a soft thump and landed on the floor. Beckett grumbled as he picked it up, but he didn’t try to get through her door to retaliate.
Slightly disappointed, Daisy started her normal nighttime routine, washing her face with warm coconut oil. She smiled over and over again and had to force her cheeks to soften. Beckett was fun. She’d laughed more today than she had since she was a kid. Why did growing up mean no more belly laughs? She needed more days like today in her life. She needed Beckett.
Her whole being put on the brakes.
She put both hands against the counter and leaned heavily into the marbled granite. Needing Beckett was like needing Easter candy. There was a limited supply, and eventually, stores would take it off the shelf. Sure, it would come back in ten months or so, but for those ten months the craving went unsatisfied. It was better to enjoy the candy while it was around but not get attached.
She flipped off the light and ran to her bed, where she put in her earbuds and turned on her essential oil diffuser, filling the air with a sleep blend recommended on the Forest Bathing channel. She pressed play on a favorite sleep meditation that would block out all thoughts of Beckett and sweet moments between them and the way he made her feel interesting.
He made her feel interesting.
She slammed her eyes and her mind shut and began the deep breathing process.
Chapter Fourteen
EveryDayGlam! Beauty Tip
A night out is an opportunity to ramp up your everyday beauty. Here are five tips for taking your day look to night-wow!
1. Brighten your eyes with a dash of glittery white powder in the inside corner of your eyes and along your lower lash line.
2. Use a good-quality face primer. Dancing, flirting, and managing crowds can take a toll on your makeup. By applying a primer first, you extend the wear-time of your carefully applied makeup by creating a smooth texture to your skin.
3. Refresh your mani and pedi with clear polish to make it look like you spent the day at the salon.
4. If you’re using body shimmer, first apply lotion or body oil so the shimmer sticks to the parts of you that you want it to and doesn’t rub off on your clothing.
5. Pick one feature to emphasize. Either do bold lips or bold eyes, but not both. Doing both can give you a clown-like appearance.
*Bonus*
Similarly, your dress should accentuate either your breasts or your legs, but not both. Leaving something to the imagination is far more sexy than telling all your secrets.
Daisy secured the end of a messy braid in an even messier bun and spun around to check her work in the camera. “This look is all about keeping it loose. There’s a difference between looking like you don’t care and looking effortless. Effortlessness comes from knowing what to let go and what needs to be held tight.” She paused, thinking over her words.
“I guess life can be like that too, right? Grudges should be let go, good people should be held tight.” She flushed, thinking of holding tight to Beckett. The image came all too easily because she’d been playing different romantic scenes in her head throughout the day. She should have been writing her speech for the MyHeartChannel Meet the Fans Conference in a month, where she’d be teaching a class on cross-promotion. Her experience with FreeWater was a prime example. Thinking about FreeWater brought her right back to the puzzling over Beckett.
She wished she’d set the donation bar higher—she’d underestimated her subscribers by quite a bit. They were wonderful people, willing to give.
Like Beckett.
And she’d thrown her success in his face. She blinked and came back to the camera. “Sorry. I was just thinking about something that happened the other day—maybe I was a little harsh on someone.”
She smiled wide, considering editing that last bit. Her channel wasn’t about perfection; it was about letting the most beautiful parts of yourself shine through. In order for the gems to stand out, there had to be some rough patches too, so she left the comment. “You may have to try this braid a few times, but it’s not about perfection. Beauty isn’t about perfection. It’s about accepting ourselves as we are and helping one another on this crazy journey. You all have been so generous in donating to the FreeWater makeover project. I’m blown away by your generosity.”
She laughed. “Either that or you all are dying to see Beck without his man bun! You’ll get a preview soon. I’m putting together a photo montage of his teen years that I can’t wait to show everyone, but tonight I’m off to a night out. Bye, friends.” She waved at the camera for an extra beat before switching it off.
She quickly slipped the video into the template Vivian created a few years ago for these quick tutorials Daisy did on the fly. They were more like her early work, with little editing required and nothing fancy except her logo at the beginning and her contact/subscription information at the end. She uploaded the video and set it to post the next day around five p.m. That way, people would think she was going out on Sunday early evening instead of Saturday night. While she loved her viewers, protecting herself was also a consideration. She didn’t need to broadcast when her home would be empty.
She slipped out of her custom white clothing and into an emerald-green dress and a pair of heels. The comedy club offered two shows, one at seven and the other starting at ten. Vivian hated to leave Jason with a sitter and insisted on tucking him in before she left. That meant they went to the late shows. Which was fine with Daisy. Sundays were for sleeping in, brunch, and late church service.
Satisfied that her dark red hair was sufficiently tamed and the braid wouldn’t fall to pieces, she opened her door and removed the “filming” card she’d hung there an hour ago.
Though she adored what she did for a living, woke up every morning feeling like she’d hit the jackpot because she was so close to achieving her life’s goal of having a cosmetic line, there were times when she needed to get away. That wasn’t as easy as driving home from the office, because she literally slept in her office. The club was a hotspot for singles, a great place to flirt and relax and—most importantly—take her mind off Beckett.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure we’re invited?” Beckett asked Quinton as they made their way into the comedy club.
“Yeah—it’s an open invitation.” Quinton scanned the crowd. He’d gone all James Bond with his hair tonight, slicking it up and back. The grooming made his normally frizzy red hair look downright cool.
“Do you guys come every week?”
“We used to come once a week, but it got to be too much. They bring in new comedians once a month, so we try to hit their performance.”
A woman walked by in a tight skirt and shirt that showed off her cut abs. She smiled at Beckett and kept on walking.
Beckett glanced down at the polo Daisy bought him as part of the shirt makeover episode. It was tighter than he was used to around the chest but didn’t hug his stomach like a workout shirt. The fabric was smooth and soft. He kind of ha
ted himself for liking an overpriced piece of clothing so much. Material things didn’t matter to him—or so he’d thought. But this shirt … the shirt made him feel important and strong. Which was stupid, because it was just a shirt.
Because he was willing to admit that Daisy might know what she was talking about, he left his hair out of the elastic. It hung all the way to his shoulders now. He’d hardly noticed how long it had gotten. His beard was too long too.
Quint weaved in and out of tables like he knew where he was going. Beckett just tried to keep up as he took in the scene. Everyone was dressed to impress. By comparison, he looked like someone who’d just walked out of the jungle. He ran his hand down his beard, anticipating his next outing with Daisy. He was ready to get rid of the beard.
The crowd parted in front of him and Quinton, revealing Daisy and Vivian at a table, surrounded by guys. Daisy’s brown eyes were alight with laughter and she lightly shoved the guy sitting next to her.
Beckett wanted to rip his head off. He pushed down the primal urgency to fight and smeared on a smile. These were Daisy and Quinton’s friends, and he wanted to make a good impression so he’d be invited back the next time he was in town. When Daisy offered to keep his extra clothing at her house—which he’d figured out was her house and not Quinton’s—his chest warmed with the sense of coming home. In all the times he’d left the US, he’d never once had homesickness. Now, the idea of flying away was harder, with less urgency than before. Once he got where he was going, he was sure to lose himself in the day-to-day tasks. Getting there would be the hard part now.
“Hey!” Quinton stepped up to the table and began introductions. Several women floated in as they were talking, apparently just joining the group. Beckett shook hands all around. When he came to Trent, the guy hitting on Daisy, he squeezed his hand extra hard and dropped his smile. Taken off guard, the guy’s hand folded inside Beckett’s and his face clouded over. Beckett eased off, feeling bad for coming out swinging.
The guys gave up their seats at the table for the ladies and moved to the semicircle just behind them. Before Beckett could snag a seat behind Daisy, Trent put his knee on the chair.
Beckett really didn’t like him. He moved his gaze to Daisy and found her watching him. A small line formed between her eyebrows. It looked so out of place on her flawless face that he had the desire the smooth it away. She wasn’t dressed in her normal white clothing. Tonight she’d donned a green color that made every part of her shine, from her fancy hairdo to her strappy heels. His heart thrummed at those heels. Even sitting down, they made her lean legs look so dang long. He’d thought she was beautiful every day, but tonight she’d kicked it up to a whole other level. She shouldn’t be allowed to walk around in public looking like that.
Now, besides the primal need to tear into Trent, he had to fight the urge to tuck Daisy behind him and shield her from every guy in the room.
Where was a spear when he needed one?
The house lights dimmed indicating five minutes until showtime. Beckett sat three seats removed from Trent. The group of friends had obviously known each other for some time. They talked easily about work and their latest date and their kids or pets. A waitress arrived at Vivian’s elbow and asked to take orders.
“Where did you meet everyone?” Beckett asked Quinton.
Quinton shrugged. “I did my undergrad with Trent and Kyler. Savannah, Monique, and Katie are Vivian’s neighbors. And you’ve seen Bret, Julie, and Sienna at my clinic.”
Beckett nodded. “Everyone looks different when they aren’t in scrubs.”
Quinton laughed. “That’s why I like coming. It reminds me that I have a life outside of dog hair.”
He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Is that why Daisy comes?” He cast a sidelong glance in Trent’s direction, totally hating the idea that Trent might be the reason Daisy comes.
Quinton stuck his tongue in his cheek like he did when he didn’t know how to answer a question. Beckett wished he could swallow back the words. He shouldn’t be asking about Daisy, and he certainly shouldn’t be asking Quinton.
The waitress settled between them, her pad poised and ready to take their order. Quinton turned his attention to her as he requested a blooming onion and a soda. Beckett went for the jalapeño poppers and chips and queso. The more he could stuff in his mouth, the less likely he’d be to say something stupid.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trent rest his hand on Daisy’s shoulder to get her attention. Daisy leaned back and Trent whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.
Beckett looked away, his neck hot. Had he been a cartoon, steam would have blown out of his ears. The waitress arrived with their drinks and Beckett grasped his with two hands, gulping down the liquid that was cold enough to burn.
He took a critical look at Trent, sizing him up. His dirty blond hair was parted on the side and hung longer in the front than on the sides like some skater kid from the nineties. He was thin but not tall, with a fitted shirt—thanks to Daisy, he knew what that meant—and skinny jeans. Unfortunately, he also knew that Trent had the body type to wear skinny jeans. He ran his hands through his untamed hair, worried about what was happening to him.
He leaned to the side, entering the personal space of the guy next to him in an attempt to get in on Daisy’s conversation. The guy gave him a whatcha-doin’? look. Beckett ignored him. “Vivian,” he said loudly.
She turned his direction and smiled. “Hey.” Her eyes darted to Quinton and then back to him. The glance was only a glance, but he thought he saw something akin to attraction there.
In a flash of brilliance, he asked, “Can I trade you seats?”
She checked around her, as if a man sitting at the table wasn’t done. Well, maybe it wasn’t cool for him to be there, but Beckett would have a much better chance of keeping Trent off of Daisy if he was sitting in Vivian’s spot.
“Uh, sure.” Vivian stood.
With a lot of “I’m sorrys” and “please excuse mes,” Beckett’s backside ended up right where he wanted to be.
Daisy scowled. “What’d you make her move for?”
Beckett pressed his finger to his lips before pointing towards Quinton and Vivian, thankful for the excuse. Quinton’s knee wagged back and forth like a puppy dog’s tail as they talked, and Vivian looked up at him through lowered lashes. He wished Daisy would look at him like that. She kind of had, when they were shopping, after he’d thanked her viewers.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Daisy covered her mouth and just stared at them. “Why didn’t I see this?” she hissed.
Beckett leaned back in his chair. The table wasn’t that big and there were already three women’s legs underneath. He had nowhere to stretch out and shifted awkwardly. “You’ve been too busy focusing on me.” He made sure his voice was loud enough to carry back a row. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trent lift his hand to touch Daisy’s shoulder again. Beckett turned his legs to the side and put his arm across the back of Daisy’s seat, effectively blocking Trent’s move. “Do you mind?” he asked Daisy. “It’s kind of cramped.”
She shook her head, the tendrils around her face brushing her cheek. “It’s fine.”
Trent kicked the back of his chair. Beckett chose to believe it was an accident and ignored it. A spotlight came on and the MC stepped onto the stage to warm up the crowd.
“How’s everybody doing tonight?” He was answered with polite applause. “We’ve got a great show planned for you with something special thrown in. You didn’t come here to see me, so without further ado, let’s give it up for: Mimevizzion.”
“No way!” Daisy clapped enthusiastically along with most of the crowd.
Beckett gave her a questioning look.
She leaned towards him to talk over the crowd. “He has his own channel and he’s hilarious.” Her minty breath was warm and cool on his neck as she spoke.
Beckett tightened his arm around her while he scrambled for a response that would keep her clo
se. “You’ll have to show me when we get home.”
She nodded, her eyes big. Trent chose that moment to lean forward and talk in her other ear, causing Daisy to move to that side. Beckett trailed his fingers up and down her arm while keeping his eyes on the stage, hoping he was putting off an air of casual familiarity with Daisy that would tell Trent to back off.
Mimevizzion waddled out on stage with a bag of props. He took his time setting things down, making funny faces as he did so and letting the anticipation grow.
Beckett didn’t relax until Trent leaned back in his seat. He waited for Daisy to lean into him, but she stayed in the exact center of her chair, her hands wrapped around her soda. Their food arrived and Beckett offered his chips up for the table. The ladies dug in while they watched the show.
Mimevizzion called an audience member up on stage and had him put on a bowler hat. As soon as it settled on the guy’s head, a sappy love song came over the speakers. Mimevizzion took it off and the music stopped. He looked stunned. Then, he put the hat on his head and the Miami Vice theme song came on. He bobbed his head and threw on a pair of wraparound sunglasses. The audience laughed at his antics. He took the hat off and the music stopped. When he put it back on his volunteer, the speakers blared, “Lollipop, lollipop. Oh, Lolli, lollipop.”
The poor guy yanked the hat off himself, which only made everyone laugh harder.
Trent leaned up to say something to Daisy. The guy just couldn’t leave her alone. Beckett put his hand in front of Trent’s face, which wasn’t difficult with his arm across Daisy’s chair. He gave the guy a hard look.
Trent shoved Beckett’s hand and he inadvertently hit Daisy in the head. She jerked forward and flipped around to stare at Trent. He pointed at Beckett. Beckett glared. “He pushed my hand,” he said right when the music cut off.
Daisy blindly checked her hair by patting different sections.
EveryDayLove!: A MyHeartChannel Romance Page 9