Chapter Thirteen

Hale

 

“Y’all want some chicken?” Both dogs wag their tails at me as I stand by the fridge. They say dogs can’t understand much past their names and a few simple commands, but I’ve never met a dog who didn’t perk up at the word chicken.

I reach for the first of three rotisserie chickens Trin left in the fridge. I’m not certain how much that woman thinks I eat, but if the zombie apocalypse hits, I’m throwing the zombies a few of these fuckers.

I shred the chicken with my hands and pop it into two bowls. I look up when I hear Becca yelling from the bedroom. She’s all worked up. I heard her on the phone earlier with Trin. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I recognized that voice she always gets when she talks to her. It’s a comfortable tone, safe, like when you know you’re in a good place.

It’s not the voice she’s using now. Her phone rang as I was headed into the kitchen. I think it was roughly two point five seconds before the yelling began.

I wash my hands, wondering a little too hard about who has her so riled. I liked her talking to Trin. They must have discussed me and Becks at length. Women do that. It put me in a damn fine mood until the screaming began.

I dry off my hands when my phone rings. “You all right?” Sean asks.

I peer in the direction of the guest suite. “Yeah. Made out with Becca naked.”

“It’s about damn time,” he says. “Later.”

“Later, Sean.”

Yeah. Becca and Trin probably analyzed every last detail of our kiss. What it meant. What it’ll lead to. Me and Sean? I grin. We just got right to it, didn’t we?

“You will not tell me what to do, ever,” Becca shouts. “I don’t belong to you, you little bitch!”

She throws open the door, startling when she sees me watching her. “Oh, hey,” she says, fluffing her hair.

“Problem?” I ask.

She glares at her phone when it buzzes and shuts it off. She clears her throat, walking toward me with her head high and about the best “fuck life” strut I’ve ever seen. “Just taking care of a few things at work.”

“Oh, all right,” I say, not believing one damn word. “You hungry?”

She does a double-take when she sees the cheese plate I created. Brie, goat cheese, parmesan, big circle of Vermont white cheddar, and a multitude of little crackers. Don’t be too impressed. Trin bought it. All I did was transfer it to a cutting board.

“I’m impressed,” she says.

“You should be.” I give her a wink. “I have mad skills, woman.”

She covers her mouth, laughing, but doesn’t quite conceal that blush.

“Let’s go outside. It’s a beautiful day.” I frown when she hesitates. “What’s wrong?”

“I’d like to go outside with you.” She places her phone on the counter. “But I can’t stay. There are a few issues I’m dealing with that require my immediate attention.”

“All right,” I walk toward the terrace, unsure if she’ll follow. She does, which gives me hope, at least a little.

The lovesick puppies hurry behind her. Can’t blame them. I’d do the same.

I take a seat in front of the fire pit, debating whether or not to start a fire. The wind is strong enough to lift Becca’s hair off her shoulders, but the sun is winning the fight in terms of warmth.

“I can’t stay long,” Becca says when she sees me eye the stack of wood.

“So, you said.” I pop a slice of cheddar and a cracker in my mouth, narrowing my eyes when the dogs get a little close to the food. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell them.

The moppy dog immediately lays down. The little one with the barrettes just sits. I’m guessing she’s the brains behind Operation Let’s Steal the Cheese, but it’s just a guess.

“Where did you get these mutts, anyway?” I ask.

“The shelter,” Becca says. She takes a seat beside me, appearing sad. “Miss Silvie started a program with them. She takes the calmer and more manageable dogs to the nursing home every Tuesday to interact with the elderly residents. It keeps up their spirits.”

“The seniors or the dogs?” I ask.

“Likely both,” she says, smiling. “These were the two she recommended for the shoot.”

I toss a cracker in the air. The moppy one catches it, just barely out of reach of the little one. “Why?” I ask. “Out of what has to be a wide selection of dogs, what made her suggest this mismatched pair?”

“According to Miss Silvie, they’ve had it the hardest and need the most love.”

Well, doesn’t that say it all?

The little one pops onto Becca’s lap when she makes a kissy sound. Damn lucky dog. I’d do the same if Becca puckered up. She laughs, cuddling the dog and stroking her head. “I wasn’t ready for a dog, but I don’t see how I’m going to let this little princess go.”

“She likes you,” I point out when she wags her tail. “Can’t really blame her.”

Becca blinks back at me, smiling, but not quite in the way that covers her sadness. “What kind of dog is it?” I ask, trying to distract her.

“Part Maltese, part poodle, and likely part Cavalier. The volunteers at the shelter aren’t entirely sure. The big dog, they think, is a Golden Retriever and Saint Bernard mix. There’s also standard poodle in there.

Moppy rests his head on my lap. “I can see the Golden in him for sure, and the Bernard because he’s a big guy. But you lost me on the poodle. Where did they get that?”

“He doesn’t shed,” Becca says, leaning in to stroke his ears. “But he is due for a haircut, poor thing.”

Moppy thumps his tail at Becca’s soft tone. “What happened to them?” I ask.

“What didn’t happen to them?” she says, making a face. “Both had mange and were starving when they were found near Bowman. They had to pull buck shot out of Twinkles’ hide.”

“Jesus,” I say, scanning the length of the big furry bag of fluff. Whoever shot him couldn’t have mistaken him for a wolf or coyote. But whoever did it is an asshole. “I can’t fathom that shit.”

“I know,” Becca says. “People can be so cruel.”

The dog looks up at me, his eyes twinkling. I suppose that’s how he earned his name. He wags his tail harder when I smile at him. He knows I like him. “You said they were found together?”

“Yes,” Becca says, her voice quieting. “They were always seen together, but the rescue doesn’t seem to think they were from the same home. Twinkles was worse off, like he’d been exposed to the elements for a lot longer. Anarchy was slightly better nourished. The townsfolk said they’d see the big one feeding the little one.” She shrugs. “They seemed to have found each other when they needed each other most.”

I take a chance. “Kind of like us?” I ask.

Becca’s smile is warmer. The kind I most love on her. “Yes, kind of like us.”

“I’m keeping the dog,” I say.

“What?” she asks.

“You heard me,” I tell her. “He likes me. His name shall be Sam.”

“Sam?”

“Why does that shock you? Sparkly eyes or not, no dog of mine is going to be named Twinkles.”

She looks from me to Sam, unsure if I’m messing with her. “Hale, this is a lot of responsibility.”

“I know. But I’ve wanted one for more years than I can count. Besides, he likes me just fine.” I grin. “You think Miss Silvie will put in a good word for me?”

“She will, but . . .” Becca glances out to the ocean. “Are you sure, Hale? This is a good place to have a dog. But what’s going to happen when you go back to New York?”

“I’ll take him with me.” I mean what I say. “I was playing with him on the beach during the shoot. Throwing a stick, that sort of thing. He likes to run. I do, too. My place is big enough. It should work out just fine.”

I motion to the prissy dog. “What about that one?”

Becca cuddles her closer, growing protective. “What about her?”

“You think you’ll keep her?”

She considers the question, glancing back at Sam. “I don’t think we should separate them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Where are you going?”

“To Charlotte,” she says. “I’ll be gone a few days, settling some things that need settling.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say. “I was referring to you and me.”

“Are you talking about our kiss?” she asks, her attention on the dog’s head.

She’s feeling shy. I’m not. “You mean the hot one we had in bed naked?” I turn around as if I can see the bedroom and hook a thumb. “That one in there, when we were feeling each other up.”

She covers her face. “We didn’t feel each other up.”

“But we wanted to. Didn’t we?”

The wind picks up, sweeping her hair to the side and away from her face. When it settles, I don’t think her hair could lie across her shoulders like it does any better had I’d touched it myself. A gull caws overhead, peering across the dunes as if it sees something it likes. Another caw, and then another gull appears. It joins the first as they dive down into the sand.

It takes the wind sweeping in again before Becca answers me. “I wasn’t expecting this,” she says.

“You think I was?” I ask. “It’s only been a month since you fluttered back into my life, waving your arms and pelting me with glitter.”

“I didn’t flutter,” she says, grinning.

“Strut?”

She laughs. “Maybe. But there was definitely no glitter. That’s a Trin thing to do.”

“All right. Let me clarify. It’s only been a month since you strutted into my life, swinging your hips just so and tempting me closer until I gave in to you and your nymph-like charm, and kissed you hard like you wanted and deserved.” I smirk at her gaping mouth. “There. Was that better?”

“I didn’t strut . . . much.”

“Yeah, you did,” I say. “You have ever since you learned to walk in dem heels.”

“And I don’t have nymph-like charm,” she protests.

I throw my head back, laughing. “No, you don’t. You come across as fine and sweet as sugar until you open your mouth and cuss viciously enough to send a drunken sailor staggering off and screaming.”

“That’s better,” she says, seemingly satisfied.

My smirk fades, just a little. “Except when it came to me. In there,” I say jerking my head in the direction of the house. “You’ve always had this hold on me, Becks. But I don’t really think you’ve understood just how bad.”

“I might understand,” she says gently.

The way her gaze meets mine erases what remains of my smirk. This woman has me where she wants me, but she always has. After all these years, I still don’t think she knows just how easily I gave her my heart.

“Hale . . . I have to tell you something.” She adjusts her hold on her pup and reaches for a cracker. She tries to take a bite, but thinks better of it, offers it to the dog instead. “It’s about Denver. Mr. Singleton’s son.”

I’ll give Becca this, she’s always delivered a good kick to the balls. “You’re still with him.” I huff, a bitter grin cutting into my skin. I rub my jaw. “You let me kiss you like that and you’re with some other man?”

She smiles. Smiles. What the fuck?

“I was never with him. That’s the part you don’t understand.” She looks down, appearing sad. It takes me a second to realize it’s not so much sadness she feels, but rather shame. “I’ve had to do a lot for the Cougars. Most of it has been positive. But there are some things I’ve done I never would have entertained before.”

“Like Denver?”

Hurt reflects in her irises, making me want to kick my own ass, regardless of how hurt I am in return. “Sorry. I should have guessed he was something special if you planned on marrying him.”

“I never loved him, Hale,” she says. “I never slept with him. I’ve barely stomached his kisses.”

I frown, a mix of confusion and fury building in my gut. “Then why were you engaged to him?” She dips her chin, focusing more on the dog than I wish she would. “Becca, please look at me.” It takes her a moment, but she does. “Why were you engaged to him?”

“He was in trouble, Hale. Lots of it. I can’t go into too many details. I’m already violating my contract as is.”

“Your contract?” I repeat, hardly believe what I’m hearing.

“It’s an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement,” she explains. “The Cougars were messed up when I first took over. They continued to screw up until I convinced the owner, Mr. Singleton, to make some serious changes.”

She smiles down at the little pup when it starts to fall asleep on her lap. “The more I had to do to alter the team’s reputation, the more I appeared in the public eye. The way the fans, commentators, and athletes took to me was a blessing. They liked me, and I became as much of a prominent member as their best players. It pleased Mr. Singleton in all the wrong ways. Denver was his only son, but lots of trouble. He did a lot of really bad things, soiling the new team’s good name. Mr. Singleton thought Denver needed a good woman at his side. Someone the public adored and trusted.”

“Someone like you?” I offer.

She sighs. “I didn’t want to do it and flat out refused. I did some research and found an actress willing to pose with him and play fiancée for very large sum. Everyone was on board except Denver. He told his Daddy he wanted me and wouldn’t pretend for anyone else.”

“Nice.” Sam drops a large paw on my knee. He feels my pain. This arrangement is about as fucked up as it sounds.

“Don’t be mad, Hale. I’m not proud of what I did.”

“I’m not mad. At you.” I let out a breath. “Okay, maybe I am a little. I just don’t see how you’d agree to something as sleazy as this.”

“I saw it as part of my job and nothing else, but . . .” She adjusts her position, her hand never leaving her small companion. “You have to understand, Hale. My job became my life. I wasn’t dating. There was no one in my life except for Trin, who’s four hours away. So, instead of pouring myself into a glass and swallowing my misery, I poured myself into my work.”

I hold out a hand, interrupting her. “Wait. I saw how all those players were panting after you. How close they stood and how much closer they wanted to be. You trying to tell me you never dated them?”

She raises her brow, a flicker of amusement dancing across her features. “I’m not telling you they didn’t try. But I wasn’t interested in more drama. I was trying to fix it.”

“Then why Denver?”

“I told you. He was something to fix. Another part of my job that I needed to take care of.” She shrugs. “We posed for kisses in front of the camera. We held hands and were seen at important events. But the moment we left the ‘stage,’ as I called it, I kept my distance from him.”

“Did he keep his distance?” I ask. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m just saying Becca is beautiful and damn near impossible to resist.

“No,” she says. “He expected a lot more than a simple arrangement and had a hard time taking no for an answer.” She makes a face. “That was him on the phone. For someone I never really belonged with, he certainly thinks I belonged to him.”

If he was here, I’d break him in half. “I’m happy to talk to him and let him know that’s not true.”

“I’m sure you would, Hale, but this is not what either of us needs. We were supposed to be engaged a lot longer than we were, but then—” She curses under her breath. “This is more than I should be telling you.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Becca seems ready to burst with the truth. But I know her. She’s wrestling between her loyalty to me and the team she’s committed to defending. “Mr. Singleton wanted me to marry Denver. Denver did, too. They offered me a ridiculous sum of money to pose as his wife. It was then I came to terms with how desperate they both were. So, instead of continuing this pretense of love and respect, I gave the ring back.”

“Where do you stand now?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “With a very pissy ex fake fiancé and a boss demanding I return to Charlotte and do right by him.”

“You’re leaving,” I say. I’m not really asking. She made it clear from the moment she sat.

“I fix things.” She smiles. “But I’m not leaving you, I swear it.”

There are several things that infuriate me about this scenario. The main thing is the position I find myself in now. If I had what I had in New York, I’d tell Becca to quit and that I would take care of her. It’s the same damn thing I promised all those years ago, but I learned the hard way all it would do is pry us apart.

The other things annoying the fuck out of me are those shitty excuses for human beings thinking they own her, or can buy her for a price. “You told me you never wanted to depend on another man again,” I remind her. “What’s the difference here?”

All at once she bristles. “I don’t depend on them. They depend on me. The only thing I’m guilty of is being overcommitted to my job.”

“This isn’t work, Becca. Not when they’re expecting more from you than the normal nine to five.”

“I know.” She looks out toward the ocean. The waves are starting to slow their rough caress against the sand. Better weather is ahead, but I’m not sure there’ll be better times to match. Not with what the Singletons have planned with Becca.

“When I was in school getting my degree, it was all about making the clients happy, making them look good, and protecting them at all costs,” she says. “The profs and career professionals who mold and shape you don’t tell you about the white lies that have the potential to turn into storms, or what it takes to do a job well and still hang tight to what remains of your soul.”

“It’s not your soul I’m worried about,” I say. “That and your heart were always your most attractive traits.”

“Not my dual personalities?” she asks, motioning at her breasts as a bitter laugh escapes her pretty mouth.

“Now, don’t you go putting the girls down,” I say. “They’ve done the best they can to lead you right.”

We laugh, this time meaning it. But the conversation is too heavy. It doesn’t take much for that shame to return and make me see how much of her soul Becca’s had to protect. “Would you leave your job if it came down to it?” I ask.

Her face softens in a way that breaks my heart. “I would do that and more if it meant helping you.”

I move faster than I think is humanly possible, scaring the dog off her lap as I gather Becca in my arms. We fall back into my chair, kissing like it’s our last moment while our hands drag over our bodies as if time is all we have.

Each taste, each tease, is sweet and possessive. I brand her as mine with each flick of my tongue while her lips press mine hard, leaving no doubt I belong to her alone.

I don’t remember ever needing to kiss a woman like I do with Becca. I need every part of her, just not in the way that she thinks.

She clutches me, like she’s scared of what’s coming and that I alone can keep her safe. I hate her being afraid and reassure with my shielding embrace that no one will harm her with me by her side.

My rough fingers massage down her back. I want to feel more than the thick knitted sweater she’s wearing. She gasps when I slide my knuckles down her lower back, teasing her bare skin. She likes what I’m doing, not fully comprehending how much hotter I can make her.

She groans softly as my teeth graze over her throat and behind her ear. We kiss. We touch. We make out like the teenagers we were so long ago. I want her and want to do so much more. But I won’t allow things to turn to shit. Not this time.

I’m not sure how much time passes. But the change in position of the shadows against the terrace tell me it’s been a nice, long while. All we did was kiss and here we are, ready to take it to the next level. How did everything between us turn out as bad as it did when we shared all this sweetness from the start?

I cup her face, my desire reflecting in her glazed eyes and the way her breathing releases in quick spurts. “Why didn’t you tell me about Denver before I saw that ring on your finger?”

“I wanted to,” she whispers. “But things were already, strained, between us. I was stuck with this contract. I wasn’t expecting you that night and then . . . then you wouldn’t speak to me.”

“Did you tell Trin?”

She presses her lips, not wanting to admit what she does. “She kept a lot of our secrets. But I’m not so certain that’s a good thing. If she were more of a blabbermouth, maybe it wouldn’t have taken us so long to find our way back to each other.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re a stubborn little thing.”

She throws back her head, laughing.

My hands travel down to her waist and I give her hips a squeeze. “I want this, you hear me? I want us together.”

“I do, too.” She licks her lips, holding on to the taste of me a little longer. “I used to worry about it screwing up our friendship.”

“Becks, we did that just fine without getting together.”

She blinks back what I hope aren’t the start of fresh tears. “It’s been a shitty few years without you.”

“It might be a shitty few more years with me,” I tell her. I don’t want to think like I do, but I owe it to both of us to be honest. “Becca, if for some reason the Feds throw in some bogus evidence just to save face—”

“Don’t.” She tries to pull away from me. I don’t let her get far. “I don’t want to hear you talk this way.”

“Good. I don’t like talking this way. But Becks, as much as I’m innocent, as much as I’ll fight this, and as much as my team is swearing up and down that I’ll get off, if I am found guilty, I’m looking at a few years, minimum.”

Her head falls against my chest. I gather her close, trying to comfort her. She needs it more than me. “Nothing can happen to you, Hale. We have the best legal team money can buy. We have the pictures and the spread all planned out. Every magazine that matters is going to show the world that you returned to your throne. That in spite of all these bogus charges and sloppy work on the side of the Feds, you were innocent and all the lies are behind you.”

“Twinkles did take some mighty fine shots.”

“Tootles,” she murmurs.

“I know,” I say. “I just wanted to see you smile.”

“I will when all this is over.”

We hold each other for a long time. We finally see red and gold burn in the horizon, showing us our first hint of sunset. Our two pups sit near our feet, panting and waiting to see what’s next.

I whistle, calling them to us, so me and Becks can give them some of our love.

Love? Damn. Is that what all this has been with her? I shake my fool head. Must be so, for us to hurt as bad as we did apart and to heal as easily as we’re starting to.

“You sure you have to go?” I ask.

“For now,” she says. “I have some fires to put out, a fake ex-fiancé to shut up, and a bullheaded boss to placate.”

“They can’t pay you enough for that shit,” I mutter.

“It’s something that has occurred to me more than once,” she admits. “When we get back, I want to work on your 60 Minutes interview.”

“What?”

“Or the one for Anderson Cooper. I haven’t decided which one will air first yet.”

“What?”

She nibbles on her lip, trying not to laugh. “Hale, I told you. You hired the best.”

“We’ve never discussed payment.” I waggle my eyebrows. “However can I make this up to you?”

“With kisses,” she says. Her fingers trace over my lip. “And more when I get back.”

“How much more?” I ask, flashing her a lopsided grin.

She teases the arch of my ear with her nose. “Enough to make me glad I’m on the pill.”

“Nice,” I say, taking a nip of her chin. “Just as a public service announcement, I’m clean as whistle and more than happy to prove as much.”

She moans softly when I kiss her neck. “Same, but now isn’t the time to show you.”

“Huh?” I ask, my hands immediately stopping over the snap of her jeans.

“Hale, things are so screwed up in Charlotte. As much as I want to stay here, all night, I have to go.” She glances down briefly. “And the last thing I want is to rush this.”

I watch my hand as it splays across the soft denim of her jeans, not wanting to let her go, but not being too much of a selfish bastard to realize that, for now, she has to. “I don’t want you to go. But I won’t make you stay. When we make love, I want it to last. I want to take my time and make you feel good. I want to wake up with your bare skin pressed against me.” I stroke back her hair. “I want you to scream my name in pleasure and beg me to give you more, just like I’ve always dreamed you would.”

Her voice is thick with surprise and desire. “You don’t just want to have sex? You want to make love to me?”

“What else would you call it?” I murmur.

I speak the Gospel truth. Becca was never a woman I could fuck. She was always Becca, my beautiful friend and the woman I’ve desired since I first realized what it means to want someone.

“I call it really hard to leave you now,” she says, falling against my shoulder. “God, Hale, I really wish I could stay.

My body relaxes as hers does. I cradle her in my arms, not wanting to move. After a while, I start to drift, thinking she’s already asleep. “Are you sure about the dogs?” she asks.

I chuckle. “Dogs?” I ask. “I’m only offering Samson the Mighty here a place to live.”

She lifts her head. “Hale,” she says, her smile content. “You can’t keep these two apart. Not after what they went through.”

My fingers thread through her hair and I pull her closer for another kiss, passing my lips over hers so tenderly I barely feel them skim over mine. “You’re right,” I say, my voice as soft as my gaze as it melts into hers. “Some souls were always meant to be together.”