grown-ass woman and my decisions are my own. There’s also been some dwelling on my part over what Beck’s lies of omission about his life actually mean. If they matter. If he owed me the truth about his background sooner. Even though, at the end of the day, we haven’t known each other very long, I choose to take a leap of faith and get on the plane.
“So…that jet has big comfy leather seats and the fanciest bathroom I’ve ever seen,” I say. “The bedroom wasn’t bad either. So I guess the question is, how good is your fortune exactly?”
He grabs the back of his neck and looks away. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Hmm.”
“If you chose not to believe me, that’s not really my fault.”
“Is that so?”
“I’d come closer, but I’m kind of afraid you’re going to use that on me.” He nods at the Taser. “What do you think are the odds of that happening?”
“Probably pretty low. I’m quite fond of you, actually. Deep down.”
He cocks his head. “How deep, exactly? Just out of curiosity.”
“I have questions.”
“I know you do. But first, would you mind if…” Oh so carefully, he takes the Taser from my hand and passes it to Smith who happens to be walking past. The driver places it and my battered overnight bag into the back of a waiting large shiny Range Rover. Like everything related to this version of Beck, it looks new and expensive. Way out of my price range.
“Can I touch you?” he asks.
“I wish you would.”
His hands cup the sides of my neck, thumbs softly sliding over my jaw. The way he looks at me is…I don’t even know. It’s like there’s this roiling mass of emotion inside of me trying to get out. The man gives me goose pimples all over. And when his lips touch mine, everything is better and worse. On one hand, it’s not enough. I want to crawl under his skin. Get inside his head and find all the answers I seek. On the other hand, it’s fucking perfect. His tongue in my mouth and my hands fisted in his nice neat shirt. He explores my mouth like he’s already claimed ownership and fair enough. Because we’re not doing this in half measures. Our mouths stay melded together in a wet and hungry kiss that goes on and on. Six whole days of crazy coalescing into this one moment. Nothing outside of this matters. We’re both breathing heavily when he stops and rests his forehead against mine. I can taste him on my lips and he is delicious. Neither of us lets go.
“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too. I missed you.”
He takes my hand in his and leads me toward the car. His smile is back. Maybe not as wide as normal, but it’s there. Despite being a mile higher location wise, I breathe easier being with him. He swings our joined hands between us and there’s an enthusiasm or boyishness to him that is nothing less than charming. “Hope we didn’t make Smith blush.”
“How long has he worked for you?”
“He’s been with the family since I was a kid.”
“Then I’m sure he’s seen worse.”
“Alice,” he says, nose wrinkled, “are you insinuating you weren’t my first kiss?”
“I wouldn’t dare. How old are you, by the way?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Long time to wait for a kiss.”
“To quote our dear friend Miss Austen: ‘The distance is nothing when one has motive.’”
“Nice.”
“Thank you.” From a back pocket, he takes a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and slides them on. “Though it was a pretty great first kiss. I can see how you might get confused.”
I just shake my head. “God, I missed you.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“I’m like wildly underdressed.”
“You’re fine,” says Beck, opening the car door and climbing out. “You’re wearing the right color and everything.”
I glance again at the couple of gentlemen entering the house. They’re wearing neither jeans nor T-shirts. Nope. They’re dressed like Beck.
“What, black? Oh my God. That’s why all these cars are here?” Shit. Hurriedly, I follow him out of the vehicle. “I can’t just turn up at your dad’s funeral.”
“Eh. You kind of already did.”
“Maybe Smith could drop me somewhere so I can buy a decent outfit. Or I can just grab an Uber.” It’ll bite into my savings, but oh well. “You go inside. It won’t take long.”
“Stop worrying.”
Easy for him to say. My shoulders are creeping higher and the sweating situation