by Wendi Wilson
He stepped through and looked around, his expression nervous. “Are your parents here?”
“Nope,” I said. “Just me.”
“I’ll just wait here, then,” he said, stepping to the side of the door.
“Okay,” I said, a little disappointed.
He must have heard it in my voice. “It’s just that, your parents aren’t home and they probably wouldn’t approve of me being here alone with you. I don’t want to do anything to make them dislike me or lose trust in me.”
Warmth spread through my chest at his words. He wanted my parents to like and respect him, and he wanted to show them respect in return.
Grinning from ear to ear, I nodded and left to find my sneakers. I noticed he was wearing a pair, so I assumed he wasn’t planning on taking me anywhere fancy. Which was just fine with me.
Beckett was rooted to the same spot when I returned with my shoes on and purse in hand. He jumped forward and opened the door for me, gesturing for me to precede him out. He closed the door behind us and took my key from me, locking the door before giving it back. I thanked him and tucked it into my purse.
We walked side by side to the truck, but Beckett didn’t try to take my hand. I was a little disappointed, used to the constant physical affection Wyatt showed me the night before. He opened the door for me and I climbed in, mentally shaking myself. I needed to stop comparing them. Despite their identical looks, they were two different people. I pushed Wyatt from my head and promised myself to focus solely on Beckett.
He drove us to a state park by the river, one I’d visited with my parents a few times when I was younger. Parking, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a large backpack. He climbed from the truck and jogged around the front end, stopping outside my door. He smiled at me for a moment before opening the door and holding out a palm to help me down.
“Thank you,” I said as he closed the door behind me.
He nodded and tapped the button on his key fob to lock the truck. He started walking and I fell into step beside him, glancing up at his profile surreptitiously. Clearing my throat, I spoke.
“So, what are we doing here?” I asked, keeping my voice light. I didn’t want to make him even more nervous by showing how nervous I was.
“You’ll see,” he said, his lips turning up at the corners.
“You’re not bringing me out in the middle of nowhere to murder me, are you?”
I was joking, but the stricken look on his face as he stopped in his tracks made me feel terrible. I could have kicked myself. I had to remember that Beckett was the sensitive one and stuff didn’t roll off his back like it did the other two.
“We can leave, if you aren’t comfortable,” he said, his face etched with worry.
I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it between both of my own. “I was only kidding. Trying to, you know, break the ice. I didn’t mean it.”
Beckett stared down at our hands for a moment before lifting his eyes back to mine. He nodded once and turned, heading down the path. I couldn’t help but grin as I fell into step next to him. He kept his hand wrapped in mine all the way to the waterline.
We walked to a large, flat rock that sat beside the river. He swung the backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it and pulled out a large, thin blanket. Snapping it open, he let it drift down to lay flat on the rock.
“Milady,” he said, holding out a hand while bowing at the waist.
“Thank you, kind sir,” I said, playing along.
I placed my hand in his and stepped up, settling myself cross-legged on the far side. Beckett followed and sat across from me, placing the backpack in his lap before digging through it. He pulled out an insulated cooler, setting it on the blanket between us.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I have turkey and cheese sandwiches, chips, and sodas. Also, I brought chocolate chip cookies for dessert, but you can eat them first if you…” He paused for a second. “What?”
I couldn’t stifle a giggle. He was rambling, a nervous behavior that I tended to exhibit. Seeing him show he was just as anxious as me actually made my nerves disappear. Without even trying, he’d put me at ease.
“Nothing,” I said, still smiling. “It’s just that I ate right before you showed up, so I’m not really hungry yet.”
“Oh,” he said, looking a little crestfallen.
“But it sounds delicious,” I added. “I’m sure I’ll devour it all later.”
His lips stretched into a smile, making my belly flutter a little. It wasn’t the mischievous, always up to something grin of Wyatt or the calculated, usually sardonic smile of Jett. It was pure and honest and one hundred percent Beckett. I looked away to compose myself, scanning the river, the trees beyond, the sky. The clouds there looked like giant, deranged hearts.
“So, tell me, are you team Edward or team Jacob?” Beckett asked, pulling my attention back to him.
He had a blank look on his face, so I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. He was obviously referencing my joke from the diner. I arched a brow at him, but his expression didn’t waver.
“Oh, team Edward all the way,” I said. “Jacob is a whiny man-child that throws a fit every time he doesn’t get what he wants.”
“But Edward is controlling and makes decisions for Bella without even talking to her about it.”
I drew my head back in surprise. “You’ve read Twilight?”
He nodded. “I watched the movies, too. Wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
“And?”
“Not really my genre, but they were okay,” he admitted with a shrug.
The conversation moved on to other books and movies, television shows and music. We had a lot in common. When we disagreed, friendly debates ensued until one of us conceded, or we just agreed to disagree. Beckett was animated, gesticulating wildly when he felt strongly about a book or his favorite rock band. Talking to him made me feel like I was hanging with an old friend. It made me feel good.
Before I knew it, a couple of hours had passed and my stomach growled with hunger. I grabbed a sandwich and unwrapped it, taking a big bite. Flavors burst across my tongue and my eyes nearly rolled back into my head. Fresh sliced turkey, the sharp tang of cheddar, lettuce, and tomatoes on what tasted like freshly baked bread—this was no plain turkey and cheese.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled around the food in my mouth.
Beckett smiled and his eyes lit up like stars. “Do you like it?”
I made sure to swallow before I answered. “This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” I declared, holding up my right hand like I was swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I like to cook. I smoked the turkey breast yesterday and baked the bread this morning.”
I froze mid-bite, staring at him with wide eyes. My teeth tore off another chunk and I chewed slowly, watching him methodically unwrap the other sandwich and take a small bite. He moved the food around in his mouth with his eyes closed, like he was trying concentrate solely on the flavors. I watched him, mesmerized, until he swallowed and reopened his eyes.
“You cook?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes,” I blurted out. “I mean, no, I guess not.”
Beckett laughed. He took another bite, his smile never faltering as he chewed.
“I mean,” I continued, feeling the need to defend my assumption, “until yesterday, I had no idea you guys even ate regular food. I thought…”
“You thought we only drank blood,” he finished when I trailed off.
“Yeah,” I said. “Wyatt set me straight, though.”
His eye twitched. That was the only indication that me bringing up Wyatt affected him, but I saw it. I wondered if he was jealous of his brother. Maybe he thought I liked Wyatt more than him. As the thought struck me, I realized it wasn’t true. Nor was it false.
Oh, man, I thought, how am I ever supposed to choose?
; Mother Nature chose that exact moment to let her presence be known. The clouds I’d noticed earlier had drifted overhead while we weren’t paying attention. The floodgates opened, cold rain pouring down on us without warning.
My screech of surprise turned into laughter as we jumped up, scrambling to grab everything and shove it back into the backpack. Beckett slung it over his shoulder and grabbed my hand as we jumped from the rock and ran for it. The dirt path we’d followed earlier quickly became slick with mud, making me wish I’d worn boots instead of sneakers. The flat soles didn’t have the best traction.
As we neared the truck, Beckett tried to skid to a stop but the slippery mud had other ideas. He released his grip on me as his feet started to slide while windmilling his arms to regain his balance. His efforts failed and down he went, landing on his back. I skidded to a halt next to his prone body, managing to stay on my feet.
I looked down at him, lying in the thick mud with his eyes squeezed shut and couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed so hard, I doubled over, bracing my palms on my knees as the rain continued to pound against my back. Beckett opened his eyes and looked at me as he started to laugh, too.
I held out my hand, an offer to help him up off the ground. Grasping it, he tugged, hard. A screech ripped its way from my lips as I toppled onto him. His fingers gripped my sides, keeping my momentum from rolling me off the side and into the mud. His laughter died and his face grew serious, his arms tightening around my back as he pulled me closer.
Lifting his head, he kissed me. It was a short kiss, a quick brushing of his lips against mine, like he was testing the waters to see how I’d respond. I stared at him, my eyes drinking in every angle of his face. The features were the same as his brothers’, but to me, there was no mistaking him for anyone else. I wondered if I could keep them straight in my head with my eyes closed and nothing but the feel of warm lips on mine.
No time like the present to find out, I thought as I lowered my mouth to his.
Warmth. Not the hot lava that poured through me when Wyatt kissed me but a slow burn, tender and soft. His lips caressed mine, making me feel treasured. Almost…worshipped. He didn’t push. He took what I had to give and offered himself in return. The cold raindrops on my back were a striking contrast to the heat between us.
I pulled back and braced my palms against his shoulders. Looking into his eyes, I smiled before pushing myself up. He got to his feet and cocked his head around, trying to assess the layer of mud on his back. The rain slowed to a light sprinkle as he grabbed the backpack from the ground and pulled out the damp blanket.
“You’ll have to sit in the middle next to me,” he said, opening the driver’s door and leaning in to flip up the center console. “Jett will kill me if we get mud on the seats.”
He spread the blanket across the back and bench of the seat, then offered me a hand up to climb in. I sat on the edge and pulled my shoes off, giving them to Beckett so he could toss them into the back. I slid to the middle, careful to keep every part of me on the blanket.
Beckett hopped up and, after pulling his own shoes off and throwing them in the bed, slammed the door closed behind him. He cranked the engine and turned on the heater. I realized I was shivering, my clothes soaked and sticking to my skin. Beckett pulled a hoodie from the backseat and handed it to me.
I thanked him and worked on peeling off my sodden sweater. After a few tugs, groans and one elbow to Beckett’s side, I managed to get it off and tossed it to the floor. Too late, I realized my yellow tank top was soaked as well, and pretty much transparent. I glanced at Beckett as I pulled the sweatshirt over my head. His eyes were on my chest, his cheeks ruddy. When my head popped free of the material and I pulled it down to cover myself, he was fiddling with the radio like it never happened.
He settled on a station and dropped his hands to his lap. The voice on the radio crooned sweetly about dancing with his lover in the dark, not deserving her and feeling like it was the best moment of his life. I’d always loved that song, but I hated it too because I was sure no one would ever feel that way about me. Looking at Beckett’s profile, warmth bloomed in my chest. I realized that maybe I was wrong. Maybe someone could feel that way about me someday.
Feeling fearless, I looped my arm through his and leaned my head against his shoulder as we listened to the words. He kissed the top of my head before leaning his cheek against it. He started to hum the tune before opening his mouth and singing along. His voice was deep and melodic, hitting every note perfectly and sending chills down my spine.
“I didn’t know you could sing,” I said after the song ended, raising my head to look at him. “That was beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said, shrugging. “I play a little guitar, too.”
“I’d love to hear you play some time.”
“You would?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I would.”
“Okay,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s a date.”
“It’s a date,” I repeated, returning his smile.
“I better get you home so you can change out of those wet clothes,” he said, buckling his seatbelt before leaning across me to click my lap belt into place.
Catching his scent, I inhaled deeply. He smelled like rain and spice and boy. A purr vibrated in my throat, surprising both of us. Beckett froze, his fingertips still on my seatbelt latch, and turned his face toward mine. My heartbeat accelerated. His eyes snagged mine, questioning me and daring me to tell the truth.
“You smell good,” I whispered.
He leaned in closer, pressing his nose against the sensitive spot beneath my ear before inhaling. “So do you,” he murmured, before trailing his lips upward.
His mouth made its way to mine about the same time my fingers tangled in his hair. He groaned and for a brief moment, his lips parted and his tongue delved into my mouth. Then he was gone, back straight and facing forward, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry, Savanna,” he said, his mouth tight.
I was confused by his apology, still trying to catch my breath after that amazing kiss. Then it dawned on me. He was sorry he’d kissed me. My face dropped and my eyes started to burn. I mentally berated myself, ordering myself not to cry. I would not be one of those simpering, weak girls that gets her feelings hurt at the drop of a dime.
“It’s okay,” I said, injecting strength into my voice. “I understand.”
He looked at me then, his brow furrowed. “Do you?”
“Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s okay…”
My voice cracked on the last word and I sucked in a breath, fighting against the disappointment. The next thing I knew, my seatbelt was off and I was sitting sideways in Beckett’s lap, his lips devouring mine. I wrapped my fingers behind his neck and held on, drowning in the feelings his lips invoked.
“That’s how much I want to kiss you,” he murmured against my lips before kissing me again. “I was apologizing for getting too carried away.” Another kiss. “I didn’t want to stop.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage to say before he kissed me one last time and helped me slide back to my seat.
I buckled up and he cracked his window, letting out the heat and clearing some of the steam built up on the windows. He drove me home, his arm draped across the back of seat with our fingers interlaced at my shoulder. I stayed silent, my thoughts running wild. I never imagined the reader would’ve been so hot-blooded. So full of passion. It made me wonder what else was hiding under his calm, quiet exterior. I couldn’t wait to find out.
By the time we pulled into my driveway, the rain had stopped. Beckett turned off the truck and hopped out, holding out a hand to assist me. I took it, even though I didn’t really need any help. It felt good to be treated like I was something special, and I wasn’t ready to see it end.
He walked me to the door and, pulling my key from my purse, I unlocked the front door. Instead of swinging it open, I turned to Beckett. I watched, silent, as
his eyes traveled across my features like he was trying to memorize my face. When his eyes finally met mine, I spoke.
“Do you want to come in? I could get you a towel and maybe a dry shirt from my dad’s closet.”
“Are your parents at home yet?” he asked.
“No, not for a while. It would just be you and me.”
His nostrils flared as the final words left my mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath. Opening his eyes, he shook his head slowly.
“I better not,” he said.
“Oh. Okay.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he added, his words rushed as he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around my waist. “In fact, there’s probably nothing on Earth I’d love more than to follow you inside and be alone with you.”
He nuzzled my neck before kissing the spot and pulling back, meeting my eyes. I smiled to let him know I wasn’t upset, though I was a tiny bit disappointed. The smart side of my brain knew he was right, but the wild side, that tiny portion that I rarely let make any decisions, wanted to drag him through the door just to see what would happen. My heartrate picked up at the thought.
Beckett’s eyes dropped to where the pulse beat in my neck. His eyes went wide and his head dipped. For a brief moment, fear struck my heart, stopping it. It picked back up double time when his tongue brushed against the spot. He pulled away, smiling.
“Did you think I was going to bite you or something?” he asked, his voice laced with humor.
“No.” Yes.
“Uh-huh,” he said, his voice skeptical. “It’s okay. I’m not offended, even though I’ve never even considered biting someone, much less actually done it.”
“I didn’t think—”
He cut me off with a kiss, one that catapulted my stomach into my throat and made my toes curl. He let all that pent-up passion loose, sweeping his tongue into my mouth to tease mine before sucking my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it.
He kissed his way to my ear before whispering, “I would never cause you pain.”
Pulling away, he took my hand and pressed his lips against the palm. I think he thanked me for a wonderful date, but I couldn’t focus. My brain was going haywire, battling my raging, hormonal teenage body for supremacy.