anything permanent.”
“And you want something permanent? With her, or are you considering the concept in general?” Jack asked.
“Both. I left the military because I was tired of living by the damn gun every single day. The work I did”—he paused, trying to nonverbally communicate what a bunch of classified documents said he couldn’t tell—“didn’t encourage making plans for a future. You understand?” Both his friends nodded, their expressions serious. He wasn’t sure if Beck really understood, but Jack was aware of the unit he was assigned to and what it meant when he went completely dark for periods of time. “But whenever I did think of a future, Taylor always popped in my mind.”
The three of them were silent for a few moments, drinking coffee and lost in their own thoughts.
“I still don’t see the problem.” Beck dug into his pocket for his keys, motioning for Lucky to let him out of the booth, but he stopped when he saw their twin expressions of disbelief. “What? You can’t have sex for the sake of sex?”
“Not with Taylor,” Lucky said in unison with Jack. Good, at least they were in agreement on that score.
“Whatever. You want her. She wants you. You want more, with her. Seems simple to me.”
That was Beck—keep it loose and when things got tough, jump out of an airplane. His friend sighed, frustration oozing out of every word.
Beck shook his head. “Don’t you get it? Sleep with her, remind of her of how good you are together. You’ve got three weeks to convince her there’s more between you and why it’s worth staying in Elliott. Everyone’s a little more receptive after a couple of orgasms.”
Jack spit coffee across the table. “Seriously, how do you get so many women?”
“I’m a doctor and I’m hot. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.” Beck waggled his eyebrows and dodged the napkin Jack threw in his direction. “We already know she’s into you, Lucky. Just show her the best reasons to stay in Elliott and you’re golden.”
Lucky tossed it around in his brain. Maybe this was the chance to figure them out.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually considering what this goofball said?” Jack’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“Yeah, I think I am.” He had to, because he either had to get her to stay or give her up for good. “I think he’s right. The time for action has arrived.”
Beck stood by the table, jingling his keys in his hand as he contemplated his next topic. Lucky wondered what he could say or ask that would top the last two minutes.
“You going out to the farm?” Beck asked.
“Yeah. I told Dad I’d help him with the repairs.” The words “if he’ll let me” hung in the air between them, Beck understanding what he didn’t say. The tenuous relationship with his father was one of the things he was here to fix, and repairing it was harder than patching the hole in the old barn.
Beck hesitated for a moment, keys jingling at faster pace, the look on his face transparent—he had dirt, but he was wondering if he should spill.
“You wanna tell me something?” Lucky asked. Beck was like a brother to him, and had actually lived out on the farm with the Landons the last two years of high school when his own father went to prison.
“Yeah.” Beck shifted, his glance flicking over to Jack, the plea for help as clear as day. What the hell was going on? “Summerfield Farm Corporation made another offer to your dad for the farm. It’s a good offer and I think he’s considering it.”
Damn it. He’d found out through his high school buddy who worked at the bank that the farm, Promised Land, was seriously upside-down in debt. Mounting costs for equipment, fuel, feed for the horses, and paying for help to work the land had taken their toll. He had the money to pay the arrears and had arranged a loan for the balance with the bank. His father didn’t know it yet, but it looked like he would have to approach him as soon as possible. His father was a proud man, and it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.
“When did it come in?” Lucky cleared his throat, unwelcome emotion forcing him to clear his throat and televising to everyone how much this news upset him.
“Yesterday. I saw him picking up your mom last night and he’d just received the offer from Teague.”
“Why Teague?”
“He’s the lawyer for Summerfield, or at least