keep my voice from shaking.
“That was me trying to solve your little hunger problem. That’s what I do; I’m a problem solver.”
“Really? You think I want to just leave and go eat somewhere with you?”
Because I don’t. But, I’m a liar—even to myself. I have to be.
“Do you?” He steps closer, shoving his hands down into his jeans pockets. I hate that my eyes follow and take a longer than polite glance at his zipper.
“I shouldn’t leave your dad alone. You’re paying me—”
“You were going to run to Subway.” He calls bullshit on my lame excuse.
“Yes, but you would be here. I don’t want him to wake up and not know we’re gone.”
He’s still staring at me, and those eyes are dripping heat from my face and down my body until I feel like it’s flowing through my veins all the way to my toes.
“ Dad! ” Beck yells with a smile, his eyes still pinned on mine.
I jump, and Mr. Fitzgerald lets out an irritated growl.
“ What? Jesus, I’m sleeping.” Mr. Fitzgerald puts his head right back on the chair, barely blinking at Beckett.
“We’re going to get food. Be back in a bit.”
“ Go on. Leave me alone, both of you. I don’t need you hovering. Go on.” He waves his hand in a very clear sign of our dismissal.
“See? He doesn’t want us here.” Beckett closes nearly all the space between us, and I fight the urge to step back. I can feel the tension in the inch or so left. “I’ll get your coat.”
I heave an audible sigh of relief when he spins and walks back into the loft space.
He looks so good walking away. I’m liquid again, pulled along in his wake as he holds my eyes captive.
It’s been a hundred years since I thought of how it would feel to kiss someone, but the thought just crossed my mind about a thousand times in the course of sixty seconds. I counted.
His strides are so confident, uneven but incredibly sexy. He runs a hand up and over his close-cropped, black hair, and I see his neck do that twitching thing again as his hand grips the back of it as if to stem the tide of whatever it is that keeps happening.
A second later and he’s back in front of me, and my pulse is somewhere near where David Banner turns green.
I take a few steps toward where he is now holding my jacket out like a gentleman.
“Okay. I’ll go on one condition.”
“What’s that? That I let you pay? Sounds good.” He smiles.
“No. You are definitely paying. But, I want to know what all that is.” I point to the long tables and actually break into my own little smile.
He licks his lips and those kissing thoughts start up again. But, just as my smile is warming up, his disappears.
“I can’t do that. Pick something else.”
His eyes turn from stunning to stone. I think of asking why, but I can see from his look that that door is bolted shut. Now, I feel like an idiot.
“Okay, never mind.”
“Hey, sorry. I just can’t tell you about all that right now. Pick something else, really, I’m an open book. Except about that.”
I can see the sincerity in his eyes, and I hear it in his voice. But, there is sadness with it, and I feel like I’ve crapped all over our moment.
He slips my jacket onto my arms, leaving his hands on my shoulders a few seconds longer than necessary. He is close enough that I catch the fresh and clean scent of him along with a hint of some spicy cologne.
The back of my neck warms from the heat he radiates.
The fact that he denied me my one condition, now it’s all I can focus on.
What could be in all those notebooks? All those perfectly stacked letters? I fight off the urge to push the subject because he made it very clear that it is off limits.
Beckett steps away and slips his amazing arms into a heavy, navy blue and white flannel shirt and rolls up the sleeves. His eyes are still attached to me, waiting.
“Alright, then. I’ll leave out the condition. But, I want to know where we’re going.”
“You’ll see.” His amazing smile is back,
“That was me trying to solve your little hunger problem. That’s what I do; I’m a problem solver.”
“Really? You think I want to just leave and go eat somewhere with you?”
Because I don’t. But, I’m a liar—even to myself. I have to be.
“Do you?” He steps closer, shoving his hands down into his jeans pockets. I hate that my eyes follow and take a longer than polite glance at his zipper.
“I shouldn’t leave your dad alone. You’re paying me—”
“You were going to run to Subway.” He calls bullshit on my lame excuse.
“Yes, but you would be here. I don’t want him to wake up and not know we’re gone.”
He’s still staring at me, and those eyes are dripping heat from my face and down my body until I feel like it’s flowing through my veins all the way to my toes.
“ Dad! ” Beck yells with a smile, his eyes still pinned on mine.
I jump, and Mr. Fitzgerald lets out an irritated growl.
“ What? Jesus, I’m sleeping.” Mr. Fitzgerald puts his head right back on the chair, barely blinking at Beckett.
“We’re going to get food. Be back in a bit.”
“ Go on. Leave me alone, both of you. I don’t need you hovering. Go on.” He waves his hand in a very clear sign of our dismissal.
“See? He doesn’t want us here.” Beckett closes nearly all the space between us, and I fight the urge to step back. I can feel the tension in the inch or so left. “I’ll get your coat.”
I heave an audible sigh of relief when he spins and walks back into the loft space.
He looks so good walking away. I’m liquid again, pulled along in his wake as he holds my eyes captive.
It’s been a hundred years since I thought of how it would feel to kiss someone, but the thought just crossed my mind about a thousand times in the course of sixty seconds. I counted.
His strides are so confident, uneven but incredibly sexy. He runs a hand up and over his close-cropped, black hair, and I see his neck do that twitching thing again as his hand grips the back of it as if to stem the tide of whatever it is that keeps happening.
A second later and he’s back in front of me, and my pulse is somewhere near where David Banner turns green.
I take a few steps toward where he is now holding my jacket out like a gentleman.
“Okay. I’ll go on one condition.”
“What’s that? That I let you pay? Sounds good.” He smiles.
“No. You are definitely paying. But, I want to know what all that is.” I point to the long tables and actually break into my own little smile.
He licks his lips and those kissing thoughts start up again. But, just as my smile is warming up, his disappears.
“I can’t do that. Pick something else.”
His eyes turn from stunning to stone. I think of asking why, but I can see from his look that that door is bolted shut. Now, I feel like an idiot.
“Okay, never mind.”
“Hey, sorry. I just can’t tell you about all that right now. Pick something else, really, I’m an open book. Except about that.”
I can see the sincerity in his eyes, and I hear it in his voice. But, there is sadness with it, and I feel like I’ve crapped all over our moment.
He slips my jacket onto my arms, leaving his hands on my shoulders a few seconds longer than necessary. He is close enough that I catch the fresh and clean scent of him along with a hint of some spicy cologne.
The back of my neck warms from the heat he radiates.
The fact that he denied me my one condition, now it’s all I can focus on.
What could be in all those notebooks? All those perfectly stacked letters? I fight off the urge to push the subject because he made it very clear that it is off limits.
Beckett steps away and slips his amazing arms into a heavy, navy blue and white flannel shirt and rolls up the sleeves. His eyes are still attached to me, waiting.
“Alright, then. I’ll leave out the condition. But, I want to know where we’re going.”
“You’ll see.” His amazing smile is back,
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