Page 48 of Hogging the Hunk
“Now, you’ll have to excuse me.” Granny shifted around me. “I’m busy.”
Beckett tilted her head. “Granny, why do you have a fishing pole?”
Putting her arm behind her back, it did nothing to hide the pole in her hand. She was too short to block the top third of it. “Didn’t I teach you not to be nosy?”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Beckett said through a hearty laugh. “Nosy? I think your middle name is Gossip. Granny Gossip has a nice ring to it.”
Granny stuck out her tongue, though it was all for show. Nothing truly ruffled her. Tipping back her head, she laughed, conspicuously not answering Beckett as she meandered away. Beckett’s hand disappeared from off my arm, and I imprisoned my free hand deep into my pocket so it wouldn’t go rogue and grab hers. I wanted to hold her hand. That was an impossibility. There were too many tangles. Too many ways it might backfire.
Slow and steady, man.
“I’ve learned not to ask your Granny anything, even when she’s doing something odd. She might love to share other people’s good news, but try to get one of her own secrets out of her? Might as well try to run a heist on the Louvre.”
“You’re right. Stealing from there might be easier.”
We sipped our hot chocolate in silence, finding one another’s company comfortable as we watched other people get into the Christmas spirit. Beckett’s head bobbed ever so slightly with the music, and we clapped as Clint spun Hudson around the dance floor. They’d been taking lessons for their upcoming nuptials, and it’d been paying off. Hudson was the one naturally inclined to have two left feet, but with Clint’s confidence and rhythm, they both looked like they could be contestants on a televised dance competition. As Clint dipped her low, the crowd roared their appreciation for the impromptu show.
“So… anything new with you?” I asked.
I realized too late that my question was amateur. We had seen each other at least a few times a week since I’d confronted Beckett and though it had been akin to torture, being intentional and slow with Beckett seemed to be paying off. Her walls were coming down and my hang-ups were proving to be workable.
“New? We had lunch with each other on Wednesday. You know everything that’s been happening with me.” Beckett raised a probing eyebrow. “What are you really asking?”
I bought myself time by chugging the rest of my hot chocolate. It went down, rich and smooth, and the shot of chocolate and sugar gave me a pleasant buzz. “There’s no hidden meaning. Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”
That ratcheted Beckett’s eyebrow even higher. She wasn’t buying my casualness. Stepping even closer to me, she fiddled with a button on my shirt. I could smell her sweet pea shampoo and count every gem on her sparkling necklace. My heart pounded, tempted to trace my fingertips along her collarbone, up the slope of her neck.
I had to stop myself when I imagined trailing my lips along the same path.
“You know what I think?” Beckett whispered.
“What?”
“I think you’re asking if anything between us has changed.”
Beckett hid her eyes behind her eyelashes. Either she was too shy to look at me while she was being bold, or she was being coy, ensuring I put in the work to earn a gaze from her.
“That’s always on my mind.”
“Always?” Her bluebell eyes moved up to mine, and I was struck again with how beautiful she was. I could spend hours studying her.
“Yeah.”
“I’m not sure a man has ever been so frank with me.” She brushed her fingers across my arm as she moved her hand to her earring. I doubted it was unintentional. Everything she did drove me wild, and I suspected she knew it.
“I’m learning that if I want good things to happen, I have to put in the sweat equity to make it happen.” I stepped in closer, absorbing the space between us. “I’m not scared of hard work.”
“I know you’re not.”
Behind me, another excited cheer erupted. People clapped merrily and raised their paper cups. Parker and Maren were the biggest catalyst to the change in the atmosphere. At the center of the barn, standing under the chandelier Maren had installed when she renovated the space from working animal facility to chic social venue, she was kissing her husband. Parker had his arms wrapped tightly around Maren, running them up and down her back until one slipped low, dipping dangerously low to her derriere. She laughed and readjusted his hand, saying something to him that no one else could hear over the din, and went right back to kissing him.
I wondered what it would be like, being so comfortable with one another that kissing in public didn’t faze them. A thought flickered in my mind, replacing Maren and Parker with Beckett and me. Maybe not tonight. Definitely not for a first kiss. But, if we ever had kissed so much that we were adequately practiced, then perhaps… I snuck a glance at Beckett. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly at her sister and brother-in-law’s overt display of affection, Beckett clapped along.
“They can’t keep their hands off each other, I swear,” she said. “Could you imagine everyone staring while kissing someone?”
I looked directly at Beckett. “With the right woman, yes.”
She caught my subtle meaning. A blush erupted on her cheeks and she pressed her fingers to her cheeks.