The Beckett Boys- The Complete Series Box Set

by Olivia Chase

  Whitney once told me her favorite time of day is sunset. That she loves watching it change from day to night from her secret spot on the roof of her house. Does she still do that?

  So much can change in a year. And I know it’s my fault that I’ve missed this time with her. Before that night, I’d send her texts, emails, and we’d try to see each other during my breaks home. Last year, I avoided her completely. I let my fears, my discomfort, keep me away. I told myself that what happened meant nothing, that it wasn’t a big deal.

  Except that it was.

  A few minutes later the back door creaks open, and Whitney comes out. When our eyes connect, that electric shock hits me hard. Sexual awareness. I know she’s thinking about what happened between us. About my mouth hard on hers. And fuck me, I want it again right now so badly I could grab her and take her right here, in the parking lot.

  It’s only by sheer self-control that I manage to stay in place and not wrap my fingers around her rounded hips, tug her to me, slant my mouth on hers and steal her breath. Because I am throbbing from head to toe for this woman.

  Whitney stands a couple of feet away, fiddling with her fingers. “Okay, I’m here.” That hurt is back in her voice, mingled with a tinge of anger. She’s upset with me. Her gaze skitters all over, on the wall behind me, the parking lot, her shoes.

  She’s upset, yes. But that means she still feels something. That means I have a chance.

  “Whitney,” I say. “Look at me.”

  Her gaze lifts, and her lips part ever so slightly.

  “I know you’re upset,” I say. “I don’t blame you. I fucked up big time with how I dealt with things. But I’m back in Rock Bridge now for good, and I want a chance to make it right.”

  That throws her off balance. She blinks. “Wait, what? You’re not going back to school? What about football? Your degree?”

  I shake my head. “I’m going to be working at Outlaws.”

  “But…why?”

  Her eyes are wide, and even in the dimming light, I can see the brilliant green of her irises. Fuck, she’s breathtaking. How the hell did I stay away from her so long? Her skin is creamy soft, glowing, and I just want to strip her naked right fucking now.

  I take one step toward her, then another, until we’re just a breath apart. I can see her chest rising and falling faster. My own breath is growing more rapid, my body responding vividly to her proximity. I ache for her. “I missed you. The way I left things last summer was a mistake. But I’m going to make it right.”

  “Maybe…I don’t want to be friends with you again,” she murmurs. Emotions are flickering wildly through her eyes, so fast I can barely keep up. Hurt, fear, anger.

  Desire.

  It flickers there for just a moment and is gone in a flash, but I fucking saw it. Whitney is turned on.

  “Oh, I don’t want to be friends,” I tell her baldly.

  That makes her draw back in confusion. “Then…what are you here for?”

  I allow myself to touch her, my thumb grazing the hip bone right under her shorts. She shudders and gasps from the contact. “I don’t want to be just friends,” I amend firmly. “I came back for you, Whitney. I want you. All of you.”

  When she doesn’t move away from me, I dare to reach my other hand up to caress the flesh at the back of her neck, under her mass of hair. Her skin is like silk, and I can’t stop stroking it. Her head tilts back and she closes her eyes briefly, lips parted, then stiffens, pulls back. Her eyes narrow as she glares at me.

  “I…can’t do this right now, Asher. I need to go back to work,” she says stiffly, then spins on her heels and closes the door behind her.

  I remain in place for a moment. My skin feels burned from contact with her. It’s different than I remembered. Different and better. My cock is pounding in my jeans, and my blood is on fire.

  Whitney is still upset by how things went down with us before, clearly. Can’t fault her for that. And yes, she’s scared, but she wants me…that much was evident in the way she melted under my touch, bared her throat so submissively. That’s the reaction of a woman who’s sexually aroused by someone.

  Whitney wants me, too. I know it like I know my own name.

  I’m patient, and I’ll make sure she knows I’m not fucking going anywhere this time. She’s afraid to let her guard down, afraid of getting hurt, but she’ll realize soon that she can trust me again.

  I finally move, heading to my car. I make a silent promise that I’m going to win her back. Whitney dug herself beneath my skin, and I couldn’t shake her off. I came back for her, and I refuse to fail.

  But just right now I have another major problem to deal with.

  Like the fact that my brothers are going to fucking kill me when I tell them I dropped out of school and am back in Rock Bridge for good.

  Not long after leaving Foley’s, I pull my car into the parking lot of Outlaws, our family’s bar, and let it idle for a couple of minutes.

  Wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and draw in a deep breath, attempting to ease the tension knots in my shoulders. Jax probably won’t give me a lot of hell over what I’m about to say, but Smith is going to shit a brick, and then hit me over the head with it. Too bad—this is my decision, not his.

  And now that I’ve seen her again, I won’t be persuaded to change course.

  I shut off the engine and get out of the car. Walk into the bar. The smell of fried food and beer hits me instantly. It’s early evening on a weeknight, but the place is already hopping. Music throbs, and customers are eating at tables and throwing back drinks. Since I left for fall semester of school just a month ago, even more changes have been implemented—I barely recognize the place anymore.

  I make my way toward the bar, where my brother, Jax, is slinging beers and chatting with customers. A couple of ladies are trying their best to get his attention, but he doesn’t give them more than a friendly, impersonal smile. Funny how being in love has changed my brother, who used to be the biggest man-ho in Michigan. Now he only has eyes for his fiancée, Brooklyn. Can’t say I blame him. She’s gorgeous and smart.

  I walk up to Jax and clap him on the shoulder. “’Sup, bro?”

  He blinks in surprise then gives me a one-armed hug, patting my back. “Hey, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be beating the shit out of players on the practice field or something?”

  I ignore the tightening in my chest and keep my voice level. “I need to talk to you guys. In private.”

  Last thing I need is Smith losing his cool in front of customers. My brother is a fucking hothead.

  Jax scratches his chin. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go back to the office. Smith’s in there crunching numbers.”

  I follow him into the office and plop down on the worn chair across from the desk. My brother Smith is typing away at the bar’s computer, his side to me. He’s grunting as he flips through papers and glances back and forth between them and the screen.

  “Hey, fucknut,” Jax says to him as he settles on the corner of the desk.

  “Fuck off, I’m balancing the spreadsheets,” Smith throws back without looking. “I’ll be out to help in a bit.”

  “Asher’s here, and he wants to talk to us.”

  That gets Smith’s attention. When his eyes lock on mine, I see him blink in surprise. Then they narrow in suspicion. “Asher? What’s wrong? You’re not due home for another visit until fall break.”

  I lift my chin and prepare myself for war. “I left school.”

  Both of my brothers are quiet for a moment.

  “The fuck you did,” Smith tells me, standing up and resting his knuckles on the desk in front of me. He’s a menacing sight—big, burly guy with ink. When I was younger, I was afraid of him and his temper. Now, it just pisses me off. He might be bigger than me, but he isn’t a threat. I’ve stood my own ground in our fights.

  “This is my choice,” I tell him evenly, thinking of Whitney and how she looked when I first saw her again after so long. This i
s for her, and I’m not letting Smith drag me into a screaming match. Or a fist fight. “It’s already done,” I push onward. “I’ve withdrawn from the school, and I’m back now, so you just have to accept it.”

  “Oh I do, huh?” Smith growls.

  “Yeah, you do,” I reply, feeling my own hackles rise in response.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Jax asks me, concern heavy in his voice. “Did you get into trouble or something?”

  “No, college just wasn’t for me,” I tell them both. I look straight on at Jax. “This is my choice. I stayed in for three years and did everything that was expected of me, but I’ve decided I want to come home and work here.”

  This is a blatant lie.

  I did enjoy school for the most part. Football was fun and a good way to stay in shape. My classes were okay, and I was acing them.

  I’m not telling them the real reason I left school. Partly because it’s none of their fucking business. I’m twenty-one, old enough to lead my own life. The reason is irrelevant. To them, at least.

  But she’s not irrelevant to me. And I know that both of them will give me shit if they think I did this for a girl. They would never understand me doing this, even if both my brothers found love themselves and seem like almost completely different people sometimes.

  They can be such fucking hypocrites.

  Smith seems to calm slightly as he takes the news in, shakes his head in disappointment and folds his arms over his chest. “This is fucking stupid, man. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can tell you’ve been off the last couple of months. You should have called us about it—we could have talked instead of you doing something rash, like just up and quitting.”

  Jax nods. “For once, I agree with our big brother, dude.”

  I tighten my jaw, fighting the heaviness in my chest at disappointing my brothers. It doesn’t matter if they both agree with each other. “I know why you feel the way you do, but I did what was right for me.”

  “So there’s no changing your mind,” Smith says flatly. “Three years of hard work, of sacrifice, all down the toilet.”

  Jax shoots him a look and rolls his eyes. Sighs. “Okay, Asher, you know we both disagree with your choice, but you’re right. You’re a free man. Still…will you at least take a little time to reconsider while you’re here? Dad would have wanted it for you. Remember how much he loved going to see your football games? How he supported your potential?”

  My stomach sinks. Fuck. Low blow, bringing Dad up. He’s been gone almost six years now, and I’m still struggling to accept it. I know they’re right—Dad pushed hard for me to get the fuck out of Rock Bridge, to be something bigger, to make the Beckett name proud.

  But I have to believe he’d understand my reason for leaving.

  Plus, this bar was his place, and he left it to all of us in his will. That has to mean something, too. If he didn’t want me here, why would he have done that?

  “Just…think about it,” Jax says. He stands from the desk and nods. “You know you can stay with me in the meantime.” He leaves the office.

  Silence is thick between Smith and me. Since Dad’s death, Smith took over as parent for me and Jax. He’s the only parental figure I have—our mom disappeared when I was just one. I don’t like letting him down, but I can’t live my life to please him.

  I’ve done enough of that.

  I turn to go when Smith says, “I’m not gonna stop you. But I think this is a fucking mistake.”

  “You’re entitled to think so,” I say without looking back. Disappointment floods my veins. I don’t know why—I expected them to act like this. But I guess it’s still kind of a bitter pill to swallow, knowing I let them down.

  I leave the office and breathe a sigh of relief now the conversation is over with, but there’s still heaviness on my shoulders.

  I’ve taken a big step in coming home and seeing Whitney, announcing my intentions to her. And now I’ve thrown down the gauntlet with Smith and Jax as well.

  I’m finally home, where I was meant to be all along.

  But I know that this is just the beginning, and fighting my way back into Whitney’s heart again will not be easy.

  Whitney

  My feet throb as I walk through the front door and lock it closed behind me. I start to toe my tennis shoes off and with stiff fingers, rub my lower back. Tonight was crazy busy, and I’m feeling the pain.

  Not to mention the shock of the sudden appearance of Asher. Wow.

  Thirteen months have gone by. Thirteen long, painful, slow months where I didn’t hear one damn word from him. Didn’t see him all this summer even, despite us being in the same damn town. Then he shows up out of the blue at Foley’s and turns my life upside down.

  Asher is back and he wants to make things right. I don’t know what to make of that. I don’t know how to feel about it, either. Talk about unexpected.

  “Whitney!” my dad hollers from the living room. His voice is a slur. Shit. He’s wasted. I try to fight back the disappointment tightening in my chest and go to him.

  “What’s up, Dad?” I ask evenly.

  He’s lying on the couch, a glass dangling in hand with only a small amount of amber liquid left in the bottom. Scotch—he must have had a shitty day at work. Dad’s usually a beer alcoholic, but when the legal firm he works at gets to him, he turns to the heavy stuff. Which is getting to be more and more lately. I’ve tried to encourage him to try working at another law firm—he’s a good attorney and could work anywhere—but he won’t change.

  Dad turns bleary eyes to me. “I…I need another drink.” He waves the glass in my direction.

  I draw in a slow breath and take the glass. Not going to refill it for him—he’s already going to be hung over as it is. I’ve gotta sweet-talk him into going to bed, instead. I reach toward him and take his hand. “Let’s get you into bed. Tell me about your day. Sounds like it was pretty crappy.”

  He groans but acquiesces. His arm slumps over my shoulders as he stands and staggers beside me. “It was fucking ridiculous. Williams wants to take on this prick of a client, despite what I…what I want. The guy is an idiot, and the case is hopeless. Williams is just a greedy bastard.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I soothe as I walk him toward my parents’ bedroom. At least we’re in a ranch-style home. I can’t imagine trying to drag him upstairs.

  I manage to lead him into the room. By now, my whole back is throbbing, and my knees ache. But I plop him into the bed and stretch him out. He and I have done this before, many times, and he sinks into the mattress and mumbles, “Fucking assholes.”

  “I know, Dad.” I dig in my parents’ bathroom cabinet and get two Tylenol, then pour a glass of water and pop them on his bedside table. He’ll need them later when he wakes up from being passed out.

  A moment later, I hear soft snores. He’s out. As I exit the room, I click off the light and close the door behind me. I desperately need a bath and a cup of hot tea. I’m tempted to add a shot of something stronger, but after seeing my dad like that, I don’t want to. Alcohol doesn’t really appeal to me much anymore. Not since he started this downward spiral.

  I draw a bath. Slip into the steaming water and let its warmth envelop me. My body aches, and my mind is whirring a mile a minute. Asher was the last person I ever expected to see today. Or any day, for that matter.

  Oh God, he looked so good, though. Faded jeans, T-shirt that shows off his athletic form. He’s even more muscled than I remembered from last year. Muscled and warm and so damn tempting. Thinking about his hand on my elbow sends a hot flush across my skin.

  My breasts swell, and my nipples harden. Damn him for the way he makes me react to him sexually. I don’t want to still feel anything for him. We almost had sex that night, and then I never heard from him again. It was mortifying and hurtful, the utter silence that stretched over months and months.

  Until today, when he shows up at work and declares he wants me. What the hell is that about? I don’t kn
ow what to think. What to feel.

  I grab a bar of soap and run it over my body. The hot water is soothing my muscles, but my heart is still fluttering like mad. My stomach is a tangle of knots. Only Asher brings that out of me. I want to hate him for it, for making me so vulnerable. But deep down, I know I still want him.

  I can’t help but think about the night in question, the night that changed everything between us. He and I were drinking some cheap red wine he’d gotten from the bar. No one at Outlaws drank wine, so we’d pooled our money together to buy two bottles and found a quiet spot by the lake to enjoy them.

  We were talking about high school memories, people we had crushes on, strange students in our college classes, and so on.

  Then Asher randomly asked me if I ever was attracted to him.

  I was too embarrassed to admit the truth. I chugged more wine, laughed, felt the flush spread across my cheeks. Like anyone could not be attracted to Asher Beckett. Bad boy, sexy, with a reputation and a compelling smile.

  I remember my belly fluttering with nerves when Asher leaned toward me and dared me to kiss him. Just a silly dare, nothing serious. But something made me lean forward and do it.

  Then it went further.

  His hand went up my shirt, his hands cupping my breasts, my body throbbing for him. All I could see and feel was Asher. He was my world in that moment, and I wanted nothing else but him right there.

  Somehow, we both ended up naked, our bodies writhing against each other, mouths locked, heat pouring between us. We only stopped because he somehow managed to get himself together enough to pull away. Probably for the best.

  At least, I tell myself that. Despite the ache that pulsed in me afterward.

  Then Asher went off to his junior year of college, and I never heard from him again.

  Humiliation washes over me anew, and my arousal dampens. I stand from the bath and towel off, then drain the tub and went to my room. With Asher’s reappearance, it’s easy to forget the last year I spent embarrassed. Alone. Wondering what I did wrong, why Asher could forget me so easily when he was all I thought about.