I inhaled sharply. My words were the opposite of what I’d said to myself yesterday. I’d said I wanted more than a night of sin. But what if this was all I was able to get from him? What if Beckett could give me the passion that had been missing in my real life…for one single night.
The rumble that grew from the depths of Beckett only lit the already simmering fires. Only fueled my desire to have him wrapped around me, over me, in me.
“Do you know how much of my soul I’d offer up to be the person who handed it to you? To be the person who gave you not just one night but a multitude of nights of sin and sex?”
My eyes fluttered closed. I couldn’t stand looking at him when he said such beautiful things. Things that spiked all my secret dreams and wishes. It hurt too much.
His finger slid across my mouth. Slow. Sensual.
“Ask me, Maisey. Ask me to give it to you.” It was a beg. A dangerous, delightful plea.
If I asked, if I let us both give in to the enormity of the chemistry that spun between us, I’d give too much of myself to him. More than he already owned. Because one night would never be enough, and I would have traded it for the last piece of my heart that still belonged to me. I’d hand it over and have nothing left.
My phone trilled in the side pocket of my yoga pants. Loud and insistent. It was my generic ringtone, so it wasn’t anyone I knew. But it could be the insurance company or the water damage restoration company, arranging to pick up the fans they had drying out the house.
Regardless of who it was, they’d ruined a beautiful, tantalizing moment.
Or saved me from another regret.
When I opened my eyes, Beckett was still focused one-hundred-percent on me. The plea he’d issued remained in his heated look, demanding an answer. One I couldn’t give.
When my phone stopped ringing, it buzzed with a text message.
Finally, Beckett dropped his arms and stepped back, and I had to use what remained of the porch to stop myself from falling over.
His throat bobbed, gaze dropping to my mouth and back, but his voice was stable, no hint of the beg in sight when he spoke. “You should get that, and then why don’t you go clean up while I finish this last section?”
I couldn’t answer, but I did manage to step away from him and the porch as I pulled my phone out and unlocked it.
At first, I thought it was spam.
UNKNOWN #: I can’t believe you!
I almost didn’t respond, but I was suddenly tired of stepping away from every challenge and every uncertain situation. Why was I so afraid to take what I wanted? So what if it was only one night. Beckett would never completely disappear on me. Things might be awkward between us for a while, but he wouldn’t cut me from his life completely. And I’d have a beautiful memory to hold onto when I was alone in the dark.
ME: Who is this?
UNKNOWN #: Chelsea. My phone died, but we’re filming today, so I can’t get a new one until tonight or tomorrow.
Leave it to Chelsea to drop her filming into the conversation as soon as it began.
ME: What do you want?
UNKNOWN #: Were you ever going to tell me about Dad? Or the fire at the house?
How had she heard? When Chelsea left Swift Rivers the day after graduation, she hadn’t just left Dad and me—she’d left everyone. She’d broken up with Randy, dropped all her friends, and marched into the next phase of her life, determined to shed every ounce of baggage before stepping into her future. But if she’d heard about Dad, she must still be talking to someone.
ME: You made it clear you wanted nothing to do with us when you left.
UNKNOWN #: I was just blowing off steam at Dad. We’re still sisters. He’s still my father. I have a right to know what’s happening. Like the fact he had a stroke and is losing his mind and lost his job. Are you really going to pick up the pieces for him yet again?
ME: First, how did you even hear about any of this? And second, if you mean, am I helping to ensure he has the healthcare he needs and that he has a place to stay whilewe repair the house? Then yes, I’m picking up those pieces.
I’d never tell her about the mortgage and the fact he’d almost lost the house altogether. She’d never understand me coughing up my savings to help him.
UNKNOWN #: Is this why you got engaged to Beckett? Is he giving you money? Either way, this sounds like another stupid Cornlette mistake. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.
I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t let Chelsea get to me. Instead, I tried to puzzle out who was feeding her information about me and Dad.