He sipped his beer. Holden was right. It would still probably end up in an argument though. Every conversation with Sky did.
Holden frowned at something across the room. “Your sister was looking tired when I spoke to her.”
Becket followed Holden’s gaze to Clara. Five years ago, she’d been diagnosed with stage four Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. She’d gone through chemo and had responded well to it, going into remission before the end of treatment. Since then, there’d been no cancer found in her body, but she still suffered from chronic fatigue, and everyone, especially family, worried about her.
“Maybe I should get Mom to talk to her about not pushing herself too hard,” Becket said quietly.
Since her diagnosis, Clara had changed. There was rarely an experience she said no to, and if anyone questioned her on her decisions, they always got the same response—that life was too short. So far, she’d jumped out of planes, taken a million different courses, and completely changed her profession from lawyer to acupuncturist.
Whenever he or Jesse tried to have a conversation with her about slowing down, she got defensive.
“I might go over there and make sure she’s okay,” Holden said.
Becket nodded, appreciating that the man was looking out for Clara. Even though Holden had only just moved to town, he’d been part of their family a lot longer. His own mother had died when Holden was a teenager, and she’d been the only family he’d had. Once he and Jesse started getting closer as friends, he’d started joiningtheirfamily for holidays, slotting right in.
Becket was just lifting his beer when Sky walked past, heading toward the bar. He should leave her the hell alone, he knew that, but damn if he wasn’t a sucker.
He set his beer onto a table and crossed over to stand beside her. The scent of lilacs surrounded him—her scent. One that he’d grown to really like since meeting her.
“Nice fundraiser you’ve organized.”
She jumped and turned, eyes widening as she looked up at him. “Becket.”
She said his name like a warning, and he almost laughed.
“In the flesh.” He cocked his head. “You look nice.”
“Really? You know whatdoesn’tlook nice? My tree.” She leaned closer, a bite behind each word. “I don’t know whether to kill you myself or call the sheriff on you.”
“Why not both? Call the sheriff and then kill me. It will make discovering my remains a bit quicker.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is this funny to you?”
“Don’t be mad. I told you I did it for safety reasons. Your safety too.” As suspected, that didn’t seem to appease her at all. “Come on, this is a fundraiser. Smile and tell me I look nice too. I know you’re thinking it.”
“You want to know what I’m thinking when I look at you? Two billion years of evolution forthis?”
He threw his head back and laughed. He’d never been insulted as much as he had in the last year, having this woman as his neighbor, and he fucking loved it.
The bartender stopped in front of them. “Hi, what can I get you two?”
“We’re not together,” Sky said, as if the very idea repulsed her. “I’ll have a piña colada.”
“Beer, thanks.” He looked down at her. “You’re a bit frosty to a donor.”
“I’m frosty because I got home to my tree no longer looking like a tree.”
“Okay, maybe I went a bit crazy with the trimming.”
“A bit?” If looks could kill, hers would be murdering him on the spot. “There’s no tree left.”
“Sure, there is. There are branches.”
“Two. You lefttwobranches.”
“Now you don’t need to pay anyone to trim it.” Her glare grew darker, and he almost laughed. “I’ll buy you a new potted plant.”
“I don’t want a potted plant, I want my tree back.”
