“Does anyone want to comment on my choice of clothes?” Beck asked, giving a twirl in the middle of the kitchen. He was wearing clean but worn jeans and a shirt that he had found in his closet. When he left, he hadn’t taken all of his belongings and he was grateful Mac hadn’t thrown his stuff out and turned his room into a guest room.
“Don’t you have any slacks” his mom asked.
“You need to go into town and buy some new clothes to go with the flowers,” Hex added.
“I think you look handsome,” Martha shot Hex a warning look before she went across the kitchen and stood in front of Beck. “Very handsome in a rugged way.”
“That was the look I was going for,” Beck admitted.
“Hey, whose mate are you?” Hex asked as he joined his mate and brother. Encircling Martha’s waist with his arm, he pulled her back against him. A move that was both protective and possessive.
“I might be your mate,” Martha told Hex. “But I am still allowed to talk to other guys and give them compliments.” She looked up at Hex but didn’t wriggle free of his strong arms. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Hex’s expression softened as he looked down at his mate. “No problem at all.” He kissed her cheek and let her go. “And if I did, I would keep it to myself.” He winked at Beck who grinned.
“I never thought I’d see the day when my brother toed the line,” Beck said.
“Hey!” Martha waved her finger at Beck. “Do not gang up on me.”
“She’ll scratch your eyes out,” Beck’s mom said. “Martha knows just how to handle men.”
Martha nodded. “That’s right. I’ve lived in a man’s world long enough to know exactly how to deal with them.”
“I’m going to take your word for that.”
“What you really need is a woman’s point of view,” Martha told him. “And this woman thinks you look just fine.” Her eyes misted with tears as she glanced at Hex. “So, the only piece of advice I’m going to give you is that you should be yourself. That is who Kassia will want to get to know. Scars and all.”
Martha had a habit of looking at Beck as if she could see right into his soul. As if she could truly see his scars. She couldn’t, he knew she couldn’t. But he also knew she was right. If he didn’t want to blow it with Kassia, he was going to need to be honest with her. Not just about shifters, which he suspected she had no idea about, but also about the last year of his life.
He would need to find the courage to bare his soul to the woman of his dreams.
Chapter Six – Kassia
“Something smells good,” Betsy called down from her bedroom as Kassia finished preparing everything except the steaks. She would fry them up as soon as Beck arrived and told her how he liked his meat cooked.
She suspected rare, after all, there was something primal about the man who looked at her as if he’d like to devour her instead of food. But there would be no devouring tonight.
“Beck should be here soon and then we can eat,” Kassia shouted up the stairs as the doorbell rang. She jumped as if she were caught red-handed doing something she shouldn’t.
Wiping her hands, she smoothed down her hair and straightened her dress before she headed for the front door. Nerves made her stomach flutter and her face was flushed as she caught her expression in the hall mirror. With bright eyes and a flushed complexion, she looked as if she were in a state of perpetual excitement. Which she was. However, she didn’t need Beck to know how excited she was.
Kassia had hoped to look calm and in control. Instead, she looked like an excited puppy. If she had a tail, she’d be wagging it. It was too late to go upstairs and use a concealer to tone down her inflamed skin. Not that it would do much good since her outer appearance mirrored her inner desire for the man standing on the other side of the door.
Goodness, Beck was standing at the door. He was probably thinking she wasn’t going to answer. Pressing her hands on her cheeks, she tried to cool them down but that didn’t help, and she worried she’d just make herself look blotchy.
Blame the cooking, she said to herself as she reached for the door handle. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she opened the door. A welcome blast of cold air washed over her, but the cool breeze was not as welcome as the man filling the doorway. He looked ruggedly handsome in clean washed-out jeans and a white shirt that hugged his muscles in all the right places.
“These are for you.” He nervously thrust a bunch of flowers forward.
Kassia stared at them, she hadn’t even noticed the pink roses in his hand. Beck’s animal magnetism made everything around him melt away. “Thanks. I’ll put them in water.” She held out her hand for them and their fingers brushed against each other, sending a quiver of excitement through her.
“I also bought some flowers for Betsy.” He produced a second bunch of flowers. Not roses, but pink carnations that reminded her of summer. “I thought they might cheer up her bedroom while she’s stuck in bed.”
“That’s so thoughtful.” Kassia accepted the second bunch of flowers before she remembered to invite him in.
Backing up, she held the door wide open and Beck stepped into the house and into her life for real. She wanted to reach out and touch him or maybe even pinch him to make sure that he was truly there and not a perfect man conjured up by her imagination. After meeting him in the street this morning, her brain had played tricks on her until she was convinced she’d imagined the look of adoration on his face when he spoke to her.
Yet, here he was, and the look was real. Except when he remembered to cover it. However, the mask he wore kept slipping and as she rummaged around in the cupboards for two vases, she kept catching him staring at her.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked as if remembering his manners.
“Yes!” she exclaimed like an excited schoolgirl. “I need the table from the living room carried upstairs so that we can sit up there with Betsy. If that’s okay.”
“Sure.” To his credit, Beck didn’t look disappointed that he wasn’t eating alone with Kassia.
Was that a good thing? Her insecurities kicked in. Perhaps he didn’t want to spend time alone with her?
So why was he here?
“Do you want to show me which table?” Beck asked as Kassia finally located the vases and set them down on the drainer next to the sink.
“Yes.” She squeezed past Beck, who was standing between her and the living room. As she brushed past him, he stiffened and inhaled deeply as if breathing in her scent. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her stomach clenched as her desire for Beck went off the scale.
She stumbled forward, caught hold of the door frame and took a second to compose herself before she led him into the living room.
“This one?” He pointed to the small table she’d pulled toward the door.
“Yes. Can you manage?” She watched as he effortlessly picked it up and turned toward her. “Yes, you can.”
“I’m used to carrying timber around, remember?” He smiled and her knees went weak.
She was a lost cause, like a ship on a stormy sea with no way to control her yearnings. “Of course.” She nodded like an imbecile.
“I’ll take it upstairs.” Beck arched an eyebrow at her, and she realized she was standing in his way.
“Thanks.” She hopped to one side and nearly overbalanced again. Kassia felt like a lovesick fool. Which she could not allow herself to be. Not again.
As he carried the table upstairs, she went back to the kitchen and cut the bottoms of the stems off the flowers before putting them in the vases filled with water. Grabbing the vase filled with carnations, she headed for the stairs, pausing at the bottom as she heard Beck talking to Betsy.
They were making small talk and not talking about her. Relieved, she walked carefully upstairs with the vase in one hand and her other hand on the rail, not trusting herself to stay upright. Beck had an effect on her and until she was able to put her desire for him in perspective, sh
e would have to keep tight control of her own actions.
Why hadn’t she learned from her experience with Travis that she needed to get to know someone before she fell for them? She needed to act like a woman in her forties and not like a love-starved teenager.
“Here she is.” Betsy looked up as Kassia entered the room. “Oh, flowers. I can’t remember the last time anyone bought me flowers.”
“Beck is trying to make a good impression.” Kassia set the vase down on the dresser so that Betsy could see them from her bed.
“I think Beck’s succeeded.” Betsy glanced sideways at her niece. “They are beautiful, just the thing to brighten up the room.” She sighed heavily. “At least it’s cold outside so it’s not as if I’m missing the flowers blooming in the backyard. I just hope this stupid ankle heals and doesn’t leave me unable to tend the flowers.”
“I’ll come and help you if you need me to,” Beck offered.
“Does that mean you are staying in Bear Creek?” Betsy asked. “I know you went away for a while. I didn’t know if you were back for a short visit or if you were back for good.”
Kassia hid a smile. Betsy was good at getting information out of people. In fact, she was an expert at asking just the right questions. “I should go and cook the steaks.”
“Don’t you want to know what Beck’s plans are?” Betsy arched an eyebrow at her niece.
“My plans are to stay in Bear Creek. However, as I told Mac earlier, plans do change. So, the answer is, it depends…” Beck looked at Kassia, leaving her in no doubt that his decision revolved around her.
“Now that we have that cleared up, how do you like your steak, Beck?” Kassia edged toward the door, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment, or maybe it was something else, other deep emotions that the nearness of Beck had brought to the surface.
Open longing. She wanted this man to change his decision for her. She wanted to be the center of his world. But did she want those things for the right reasons?
Or did she simply feel the need to be wanted, to be cherished? Did it matter if that man was Beck? Would any man do?
Kassia needed the answer to that question before she took her relationship with Beck one step further. If he, in fact, wanted to go one step further. Perhaps this whole thing had been blown out of proportion by her own imagination.
Not for the first time since Travis did she question her own motives and judgments.
If one man could convince her that he loved her, could make her think that she loved him even though their relationship was built on lies and deceit, wasn’t it possible she could make the same errors in judgment again? And again. Perhaps she hadn’t really become better at seeing through other people’s lies. Instead, she’d just convinced herself she had because it made her feel less vulnerable.
“Medium rare,” Beck said, and her head jolted up as she woke from her daydream.
“Great. I’ll go cook them.” She backed out of the door, not looking at either her aunt or Beck.
“I’ll come and give you a hand,” Beck offered. “I can carry things upstairs for you while you cook.”
She wanted to say no, I can manage, but it would soon become obvious she couldn’t. There were several dishes that needed to be carried upstairs and she couldn’t leave the steaks unattended or they would end up burned.
“Thanks,” she replied, aware of his presence as he followed her downstairs.
“Something smells delicious,” he said from close behind her as they entered the kitchen. Kassia shivered, not sure if he meant the food or her.
“I hope you like what I’ve cooked,” she stumbled over her words as she reached for the plates and cutlery. “Could you take these up first, please? Then there’s the soda in the fridge. And a bottle of wine. I wasn’t sure if you drank wine.”
“I like wine.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I should have brought some with me, but I wasn’t sure if Betsy could drink, so I didn’t.”
“She can’t, not on her meds, but we can have a glass.” Or two. She hoped the buzz of alcohol in her veins might calm her nerves.
“Are you okay?” Beck asked as he took the wine and soda from the fridge and set them down on the counter.
“Yes.” Kassia didn’t turn to face him as she put the pan on the stove and heated it up. She needed to get the steaks from the fridge, but didn’t dare get too close to Beck. Her body temperature was already set to high. Any hotter and she’d spontaneously combust.
“You seem a little on edge. If you’d rather I didn’t stay for dinner, I completely understand.” He moved toward her, but not too close. However, she could sense him, the hairs on the back of her arms raised as if they were trying to reach out and make a connection with him.
“No, it’s fine.” She winced and moved the pan off the heat before she inhaled deeply and turned to face him. “I’m just getting over a really bad relationship.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “And I don’t trust myself. Or my judgment.”
“I confuse you.” He nodded as he lifted his hand. She held her breath as he entwined his fingers with hers. It was such an intimate move but felt completely natural. “I don’t mean to. And it’s difficult for me to explain how I feel for you and why I feel this way. But I promise you, I would never lie to you.” His eyes darkened with desire and she leaned forward, wanting him to set her on fire. She burned for him. Yearned for him.
Kassia jerked her head back. She was sending him the wrong signals. “Betsy said that people in Bear Creek all seem to know when they have met the person they are supposed to spend the rest of their lives with.” She shook her head and rubbed her forehead with her free hand. “I don’t understand how that works.” Her hand slipped down and covered her heart. “But I feel it. In here.”
“I feel it in here, too.” He placed his large hand over his heart and smiled gently. “I want to explain why. I want to explain how. But I think we should have dinner first and then talk.”
She nodded and slipped her hand out of his. “Are you sure this is something that can be explained?”
“I’m absolutely certain.” He grinned. “But it might shock you.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed red. “Now, I’m a little scared.”
“Don’t be.” He cupped her cheek with his palm and warmth flooded through her body. “Don’t ever be afraid of me.”
Kassia swallowed hard. “I should cook the steaks.”
Beck’s hand dropped to his side and his expression clouded. “Now you really are scared that I’m some kind of stalker or something.”
Her mouth curled up at one corner. “Not exactly a stalker, but this is a little intense for a dinner date with my aunt.”
He laughed. “Sorry, I’ll tone it down.”
Her mood sobered. “I just can’t let myself fall for the wrong man again.” She took a shuddering breath. “I don’t even know why I am telling you this, or why I’m having dinner with you at all. I promised myself I wouldn’t get mixed up with a man again for a very long time. Forever, in fact.”
“Don’t say that.” He looked down at the floor before he raised his eyes to hers once more. “Life is for living. Things hurt us, people hurt us, but we can’t hide ourselves away. What would be the point in that? We only hurt ourselves.”
“Isn’t it better to hurt ourselves than to open up to let other people hurt us instead?” She didn’t really believe that but part of her wanted to put a barrier up between them because she was falling too hard, too fast.
“No. Not at all. We have to be brave.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “I should take these upstairs while you cook the steaks.”
“Is everything all right down there?” Betsy called down.
He knew. Her forehead creased. He knew Betsy was growing restless.
The man had a sixth sense. So maybe he could see the future, their future, and that’s how he knew they were right for each other.
Intriguing. Completely irrational. But also, incredibly exciting.
&
nbsp; Chapter Seven – Beck
“That was wonderful.” Betsy placed her fork down on her plate and leaned back on her pillows. “I can’t remember the last time I had a homecooked meal that I hadn’t cooked myself. It always tastes better somehow.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Kassia got up and started clearing the plates.
“I’ll help.” Beck sprang to his feet and began piling the pates on top of each other.
“I can manage,” Kassia told him. “Why don’t you keep Betsy company while I go downstairs and fetch dessert?”
“There’s dessert?” Betsy asked hopefully. “Now I wish I’d left a little more room.”
“It’s nothing special,” Kassia replied. “I made an apple pie this morning when I made the brownies for Brad.”
“Apple pie sounds wonderful. With ice cream?” Betsy licked her lips. “There’s some special ice cream in the freezer. It’s made with real cream.”
“Ice cream it is.” Kassia picked up the plates and headed toward the door. “Beck, do you want dessert?”
“Yes, please.” He cast his eyes down to the plates in her hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry those for you?”
“I can manage.” She paused. “Although, I’d appreciate your help carrying everything else down after dessert. For now, you can make sure Betsy stays put.”
Betsy groaned. “Bed rest is so boring.” She’d been inching closer to the edge of the bed and Kassia suspected she longed to slide her feet to the floor and get up.
“I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Beck sat back down in his chair and watched Betsy, while his other senses followed Kassia downstairs.
“So, what is going on with you, Beck?” Betsy’s words brought him soundly back to the room and he gave his full focus to Kassia’s aunt.
“Nothing.” Color crept across his cheeks. Under Betsy’s close scrutiny, he felt as if he was lying even though he was telling the truth. There was nothing going on with him.
Beck (Winter - Shifter Seasons Book 2) Page 5