floors we’ll want to rip out but they’re so charming we leave in, and whitewashed cabinets. We’ll have a dog, maybe two, that we can take for walks on the beach. I’ll work as a counselor and you’ll do programming magic, and when we come home from work, we’ll fix dinner together.”
“Sounds nice,” he says in a low voice as one of his hands strokes my arm.
“And we’ll fuck every night, and twice a day on the weekends. We’ll listen to bands in dive bars or we’ll try out various coffee shops in search of the perfect Viennese cup. Oh, and we’ll develop some type of hobby . . . like maybe collecting antiques or something. You know, so we don’t get so wrapped up in sex that we never leave the house for very long.”
Beck chuckles and squeezes me tight, but then he turns serious. “Do you want kids?”
“I don’t know,” I answer quickly and honestly, but it’s a thought that has plagued me before. “I mean . . . I never thought I’d have a real relationship before, or that I’d even be living with someone and discussing a beach house and dogs. But yeah . . . I like kids. I think I’d be a good mom. I had a great role model, after all.”
“Well, I had a crappy role model for a mother,” Beck says, not in a bitter way, but more reflective.
“You’d make an amazing father,” I say softly. “You’re so good with Ally.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think I would too.”
We both fall silent, maybe unsure of what to say after that revelation. I mean, not an hour ago we were declaring our love for the first time, and now we’re discussing houses and children. It’s too fast and it’s overwhelming, and yet it’s also a little bit right too. I know this because the ensuing silence as we contemplate this isn’t awkward at all.
“So, when this is all over with JT, next on our agenda is to find a small house on a beach somewhere?”
I giggle. “With peeling linoleum floors.”
“Got it,” Beck says.
Suddenly, I sit up and turn in his lap to look at him, reality seeping back in to our discussion of happily-ever-after dreams. “What if this doesn’t work? So many things could go wrong. VanZant may not take the offer, then we’d depend on fate for him to lose. Or he could go to the police and tell him about the bribery—”
“We’re shielded from that,” Beck reminds me quickly. “Dennis said there won’t be any ties to us. It’s why we’re paying him so much.”
I disregard those assurances, because here’s the really big “if.” “We still have to depend on JT coming to you for the money.”
“Well, he can only go to me or my dad,” Beck points out. He relayed to me the entire conversation he had with his dad on the drive home last night, and it does seem his dad is onboard with us. “JT doesn’t have any other close friends with this type of liquid cash to help him out and no bank will loan him money to pay off a debt. Dennis assured me the collection deadline will be short so he’ll be under pressure to act fast.”
“Maybe JT won’t agree to give up the company for your loan,” I offer, even though we’ve hashed this all out before. “Maybe he’ll opt a beating. Or take his chances elsewhere. Or even negotiate an extension.”
“Then worst-case scenario, he’s still part of the company when we go to the police,” Beck says firmly. I know he’s frustrated over my continued worries, but he’s also very patient with me.
“It will kill The Sugar Bowl.” The bitterness is evident in my voice. “It could ruin you. Maybe we shouldn’t even do this at all.”
“What?” Beck exclaims, his eyebrows rising high. “You want me to just stay with JT as a partner and pretend none of this happened?”
“No,” I say sullenly, my gaze dropping from his. I twist my fingers together and mutter. “I know you could never do that.”
“Sela,” Beck says softly, his fingers tilting my chin up. When my eyes lock on his, he gives me a knowing smile. “I’m not going to lie . . . I’ve got a lot tied up in this business. I’m proud of it. It’s lucrative. But it is not my only idea. My entire self-worth isn’t dependent on it. My financial stability most certainly isn’t, as I’ve invested well and I could