Chapter Seventeen

Beck laced his fingers with Charlie’s and pulled her through the door and down the hall. It was still somewhat early, so only a few tables had filled up. He made his way to the one in the center of the room. The one where Tom, Cash, Statler, and Waylon had pushed back from their chairs and stood arguing with each other.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Beck cleared his throat, trying to interject into the conversation, which appeared to be really more of a shouting match. He caught bits and pieces.

“…skin him alive…”

“…go get the justice of the peace right now…”

“…send him back to New York less a few body parts…”

“Hey!” He let go of Charlie’s hand and tapped Tom on the shoulder.

The older man turned toward him, his face the color of the ripe tomatoes Beck had tossed into the eggs he’d made that morning. A vein bulged at Tom’s temple. “You!”

Chairs scraped on the wood floor, boots clacked, and suddenly Beck found himself surrounded by an angry mob of Walker males. All of them except Presley. Presley had his feet kicked up on the edge of the table while he leaned back in his chair. He was the only one smiling.

Cash jabbed Beck on the shoulder. “Didn’t believe me, huh?”

“I can explain.” Beck put his palms out in surrender.

Waylon poked a finger into his chest. “You better be ready to do the right thing, city boy. How dare you take advantage of my baby sister—”

“If anyone is going to deck him, it’s going to be me.” Tom made a fist.

Beck’s head buzzed with the threats and overwhelming anger circling him. He opened his mouth to say something, but a piercing whistle cut through the chatter.

Everyone stopped. Charlie stood on the bar, her fingers still wedged into her mouth, and let out another whistle. “Will y’all listen for a second?” Satisfied she had the entire bar’s attention, she held a hand out and motioned to Beck.

His cheeks burned as everyone in the place rested the weight of their gaze on him. Shaking his head, he joined her on top of the bar.

She smiled encouragement as he took his place by her side. They were doing this. Didn’t have much of a choice now. It’s not that he didn’t want to go public with their fling. But he’d figured news would make its way around naturally. Slowly. Privately. He hadn’t been prepared to make an official announcement, especially not with four pairs of glaring Walker eyes tearing him apart from across the room.

“Go ahead, Beck. Tell ’em.” Charlie tucked her arm through his.

“Me? Tell ’em what?”

“Tell ’em I’m not pregnant,” she mumbled.

He cleared his throat. “So Charlie and I have some news we’d like to share.”

Chaos erupted. Waylon and Tom headed their way. Even the people he didn’t recognize started to talk among themselves, making it more than a little difficult to speak out over the din.

“Oh for crying out loud.” Charlie whistled again. The noise ceased. In an apparent effort to get her point across before all hell broke loose, she yelled, “I am not pregnant. Baby Back is. Due in September. Okay?”

She nodded, then scrambled down from the bar, leaving Beck standing there alone.

“But what about you and him?” Waylon shouted.

“Yeah? Are you violating my baby sister?” Statler joined in.

Beck glanced down at Charlie. She smiled up at him and held out a hand. He didn’t have to take a stand—he knew that. But if he wanted to hold his own, to get her brothers off his back once and for all, and to prove himself to Charlie, he’d better step up and handle this. He put his hands up to hush the crowd. Charlie frowned.

“Not that it’s any of anyone’s business”—he began—“but Charlie and I are together. So all of you can stop whispering and talking about us behind our backs. No, she’s not pregnant. No, we’re not talking marriage, Cash.” He sought out her brother, who shook his head. “But I’m falling for this amazing woman, so you’d better get used to seeing me around.”

He hopped off the bar to stand next to Charlie. Wrapping an arm around her, he met her gaze.

Her eyes widened in shock. “That was, um—”

“Amazeballs,” Darby interjected. “Now kiss her, quick, and let’s get this dinner going. Ryder’s about to have a meltdown, and I need to get some chicken nuggets in him, stat.”

“Well, you heard the woman,” Charlie said.

Beck cradled her face between his hands. He hadn’t meant to declare his feelings in front of the entire bar. But he’d meant what he’d said.

With the applause of her family, the staff, and the customers who’d enjoyed the little display ringing in his ears, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Kissed her like he meant it. Kissed her like she deserved. Kissed her like he’d never be able to get enough.