Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Evie moved along the small walkway leading from Lo’s paved driveway. The condo’s entrance was sufficiently covered with a modest porch roof, and her friend had decorated the jutted space with a modern farmhouse feel.

The door was painted a dark hunter green, and a wooden sign that read Welcome sat balanced against the light gray siding nearby. Rested on the concrete below was an overflowing pot filled with gorgeous pink begonias, and to her right was a small accent table with a colorful mosaic top.

Evie’s attention, however, wasn’t really on her friend’s decorative front stoop, but rather on the man who’d been sweet enough to walk her to the door.

Aside from the nightmares she’d come to expect, there had also been good dreams since returning to the States. Ones starring none other than her very own personal hero.

Hot. Passionate. Soul-enchanting dreams that had left her craving.

But as good as Evie's fantasies about Beckett were, the fictional images locked in her brain were nothing like the real-life man.

He’d been mouthwateringly handsome when dressed in head-to-toe camo and covered in military-grade gear. But put the tall, dark, and deadly man in a pair of well-worn jeans, a dark gray henley—that hugged his muscular upper body like a glove, no less—and a pair of brown lace-up boots lightly scratched and worn on the tips…

Holy mother of hotness.

She stopped and turned to face him, trying not to drool. “Thanks again for lunch. It was really great seeing you again.”

So, so great.

“You, too,” he replied with his usual male rumble.

God, she loved his voice.

“And thanks for the ride,” she offered, not quite ready to say goodbye. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time. And I mean that,” Beckett drawled. “You need anything while you’re in town, I’m your man.”

If only that were true.

Her inner thoughts—and overactive hormones—left her feeling flushed and a little out of sorts. When it came to the opposite sex, she wasn’t typically one to flirt or show interest. Not until she’d at least been given a sign that the other person was interested in her .

So far, Beckett had been a perfect gentleman. Which was great, except…

I kind of wished he wasn’t.

Oh, she appreciated the polite gestures like pulling out her chair at the restaurant or opening her car door. But sometimes, even she preferred a more take-charge attitude regarding her romantic interests.

And so far, Beckett had been completely and totally hands-off.

Maybe that’s because he’s not romantically interested in you.

A memory flashed even as the thought crossed through her muddled mind. She was back in the exam room on the ship. Beckett was standing before her, much like he was now. They were talking about her state of dishevelment, and then…

He said I was beautiful.

“Hey, about the thing with your dad…”

His trailed voice pulled her back into the present.

“It’s okay, Beckett.” She shook her inappropriate thoughts away while meeting his gaze. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“Yeah?” One corner of his kissable lips turned upward.

Evie nodded. “I know I need to just forget about him and move on with my life. And I will.”

I hope.

“Actually…” He took a step closer, shoving his strong, masculine hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I was gonna say if you ever decide to confront the son of a bitch, I’d be happy to tag along.” One of his broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Wouldn’t mind lettin’ him know what I think about what he did to you and the girls.”

Part of her never wanted to see her father’s face again. But the other part…

“I just want to ask him why, you know?” A ball of emotion grew thick at the base of her throat. “I want to look him square in the eyes and ask him why my life isn’t worth him spending even a tiny portion of his precious money.”

Something flashed behind Beckett’s eyes. A hefty dose of anger was there, of that she was certain. But there was also something else. Something darker. Deeper.

And as he slid a hand from his pocket and placed his palm against her cheek, the source became suddenly clear…

Desire.

“You’re worth it, darlin’.” He inched even closer. “You’re worth every fuckin’ penny that man has, and don’t you ever let him or anyone else make you think you’re not.”

The unexpected words drove the air straight from her lungs. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Or about her, for that matter. And the fierceness in his tone—along with the sheer intensity in his unwavering stare—left her feeling more confused than ever before.

“I don’t…” she began on a whisper. “I-I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“You.”

Beckett’s dark brows dipped together in the center as one corner of his lips curved into a grin. “Me?”

Evie nodded. “We met once, nearly a month ago. In the middle of madness and chaos, no less. But then I see you again today, and we share one meal, and it’s like…” A look of bewilderment fell over her. “It’s almost as if I’ve known you?—”

“Forever.”

She nodded again, comforted by the knowledge that she wasn’t alone. “You feel it, too,” she boldly proclaimed, her gaze remaining fixed on his. “Don’t you?”

Please don’t let me be the only one.

Beckett’s Adam’s apple bobbed with an audible swallow as he stared down at her in an unbearable silence. For a long, torturous moment, she was convinced she’d made a terrible, humiliating mistake.

But then…

“Oh, I feel it, sweetheart.” He leaned in, his lips coming within a hair’s breadth of hers. “Question is, what do you want to do about it?”

Evie knew exactly what she wanted to do. And so…

She closed her eyes, rose up onto her tiptoes, and brought her mouth to his. She didn’t have to go far, given he’d already filled her personal space. And when their lips met for the very first time, it was as if the stars aligned, and the angels began to sing.

Okay, so maybe there wasn’t any actual singing, and the stars wouldn’t shine for another few hours. But damn, if there wasn’t some sort of profound shift in her existence. And when she got her first real taste of the man she’d fantasized about for weeks, Evie realized her world as she knew it would never be the same again.

Beckett deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding across the seam of her wanton mouth in a seductively enticing invitation she couldn’t refuse. Her lips parted, their tongues met, and just like that…

Evie. Was. Lost.

He tasted of chocolate and sin, and as they stood kissing on the slight stoop for God and everyone else to see, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not about the cars driving past or any neighbors who may walk out their door at any moment.

Nothing else mattered aside from her…and him.

Beckett.

His name whispered through her mind as he held her body close. Her chest pressed against his, her hands clutching the thin shirt covering his broad, masculine shoulders. And when Beckett’s movements slowed, and he began to pull away, it took everything in her power not to beg him to stay.

“Damn.” He licked his lips, curling them into a crooked grin that made her heart race and her sex ache with need. “I know the gentlemanly thing to do would be to apologize for that.”

“Why?” Evie challenged lightly. “Are you sorry you kissed me?”

Technically she’d made the first move, but Beckett had kissed her right back, so…

“Only if you are.” The hypnotic rumble of his low voice captured her. “And to be perfectly honest…” He ran a hand over the dark stubble covering his jaw. “I’m not so sure I’d be sorry even then.”

“Good.” She smiled at the man’s unabashed honesty. “I’m not, either.”

If she hadn’t been staring straight into his eyes, Evie would’ve missed the sliver of relief shining briefly behind his darkened gaze. But then another thought struck.

“I do have one question, though…”

“You can ask me anything you want, darlin’.”

Oh, how she loved it when he called her that.

“I just thought…just in case, I figured I should make sure that you aren’t…” Good lord, Eves. Just ask the man already. “You’re not seeing anyone at the moment…are you?”

Please say no. Please say no. For the love of all that’s holy, please say ? —

“No.” Beckett put her out of her silent misery. “And just so you know, if I weren’t single…that kiss never would’ve happened.”

Meaning he wasn’t the type of guy to cheat.

Good to know.

“I didn’t think so,” she responded honestly. “I guess I just needed to hear you say it.”

Preston had cheated on her back when they’d been dating. More than once, actually. Something Evie had discovered in the last days of their so-called relationship.

In hindsight, it wasn’t the cheating that had ended things between them as much as the fact that she’d never truly loved him. If she were being totally honest with herself, she wasn’t so sure she ever really even liked him.

She’d tried, of course. Because that’s what Mitchells did. They did what they were told…and what was best for the family name.

Even more importantly, she’d been raised to always think of the family—and its lucrative business—first, above all else. Including her own hopes and dreams.

My own happiness.

Since Preston’s father was one of Mitchell-Granger’s largest clients, Evie and Preston’s coupling had resulted in a multi-million-dollar deal. One her father had immediately celebrated with two hundred of their closest family and friends.

Close, my ass. The man dropped twenty grand on a party to hobnob with the wealthiest and most influential names in East Hampton.

“Hey.” Beckett lifted Evie’s chin with the softest of touches. “Where’d you go just now?”

“Nowhere.” She met his gaze once more. “I’m still right here.”

With you.

But he was already shaking his head. “Only way this works is if we’re honest with one another.” He brushed his thumb lightly across her skin.

“This?”

“Us.”

Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “There’s an us?”

Oh, she really, really liked the sound of that.

“I think there could be.” Beckett dipped his head in a barely-there nod. “A minute ago, you asked if I felt the same things you’ve been feeling. Now, unless I’m way off base with all this—or you’re hiding a secret boyfriend or husband I don’t know about—I think that kiss just gave us both the answer we’ve been searching for.”

Evie was beginning to think maybe he was what she’d been missing all along.

He was tough and gentle. Sweet and incredibly kind. And so very different than any other man she’d ever met.

Growing up, Evie had always assumed she’d end up with someone like Preston. Rich. Preppy. Well-connected within the circles of the elite.

Not because those things were what she deemed most important in a life-long mate. But because her father did.

For as long as she could remember—especially after her mother’s passing—the one thing Evie had wanted most in the world had been her father’s approval. Lucky for her, she’d eventually grown out of that fairytale stage.

She’d not only dumped the only man to have ever garnered her father’s approval, but she’d also changed career paths to follow her true passion. And then…

Then she’d gone and gotten herself kidnapped in Afghanistan.

Despite the terror she’d been forced to endure when she’d been sitting in that carved-out prison cell—when the girls were asleep, and all she had to keep herself company were her thoughts—Evie had allowed herself to dream.

She’d imagined the life she’d been terrified of losing. The one she had yet to even have a chance to live.

And in those dreams, the kind of man she’d always imagined building a life with wasn’t some privileged, silver-spoon brat who’d been handed everything to him on a silver platter.

He was warm and caring. Funny and kind. And rather than the skinny-jean metrosexual type who always seemed prevalent in her father’s circles, the man of Evie’s dreams was always muscular and manly. Masculine and strong.

Someone who could protect her from the evils of the world while also creating the kind of love and passion her heart and body craved. Someone just like…

Beckett.

“There’s no husband.” She finally found her voice again. “Or boyfriend, for that matter. And you’re right. I think…” A quick, nervous lick of her lips. “There’s definitely something between us. It’s crazy, and I can’t even begin to explain it, but?—”

“But?”

“I’m only in town for a couple more weeks, Beckett.”

“So?” He blew off her worry. “We make the most of our time together while we can.”

“And after that?”

Beckett’s dark, heated gaze remained fixed on hers as he sent her a smile that left her toes curling. “The after is up to you.” His hand slid to cup one side of her face. “So what do ya say, darlin’? Wanna see where this thing takes us?”

Her belly tingled with anticipation.

“I do.” Evie smiled up at him. “But…there’s something I need to take care of first.” Something she knew deep down she needed to face head-on, once and for all. “I need to see my father. I lied about him not being available earlier because I was too afraid to face the truth.”

“But you’re not anymore?”

“No.” She shook her head. “At least, I don’t think I am.”

“What changed?”

You.

“What you said earlier. About confronting him?” She swallowed nervously. “I’m going to do it.”

First chance I get.

Concern flittered behind Beckett’s dark eyes. “Evie, I wasn’t trying to push you into doing somethin’ you’re not ready to do. I only meant?—”

“I know what you meant, and I promise you aren’t pressuring me into anything. I just know I won’t be able to focus on building a future for myself, let alone one that includes…anyone else.” Her gaze bore into his. “Not until I face what happened head-on. And a big part of that…maybe even the biggest part…is getting answers from my father.”

Answers she damn well deserved.

“Done.” Beckett’s response was instant. “Tell me when and where, and I’ll be right by your side.”

Evie’s heart swelled, and her eyes burned with a rush of unshed tears. This man…this incredible, amazing man was offering to support her through what was sure to be an excruciatingly painful conversation with her father.

But as much as she loved the idea of Beckett being by her side—in more ways than one—this fight was one she needed to take on alone.

“I appreciate that, Beckett.” Evie rested her palm against his chest. “More than you’ll ever know. But I need to do this on my own.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “My relationship with my father was complicated long before Afghanistan. We have nothing in common, we rarely see eye-to-eye about, well, anything…we don’t even look anything alike.”

“You take after your mother.”

“I’ve often wondered if that’s why he resents me as much as he does.”

“Because you’re a constant reminder of what he lost?”

Another nod. “There are a lot of things I need to clear the air with as far as he’s concerned. His source of contention toward me is one of them. And honestly, I’m not sure I’d be able to discuss everything as openly as I need to if you’re there. I hope you can understand that.”

“Of course, I understand.” Beckett covered her hand with his and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I just hope you know I’m here. For whatever you need…whenever you’re ready.”

Evie felt absolutely awe-struck. There was no other way to describe it. This man…this honest-to-goodness American hero …was like a dream come true.

Is he? Too good to be true?

The intrusive thought was more than a little unsettling. But while the answer still remained to be seen, she chose not to borrow trouble.

She’d had more than her fair share of that lately, not to mention her impending visit with her father. Plus, there was just something about Beckett. A deep-seated goodness that shined brightly within him.

And every instinct Evie had said this was a man she could unequivocally trust.

“Okay, so that’s it,” she announced. “I’m going to book a flight to East Hampton tomorrow. If my father truly wants me dead, he’s going to have to tell me that to my face.”

A set of lips she could still taste on her own curved upward with Beckett’s slow-forming grin. “That’s my girl.”

His girl.

Boy, that sure had a nice ring to it.