“I’ve just been worried about her. She pushes herself too hard and does too much.”
“I’ve been worried about her too,” Becket said, voice low, even though she wasn’t close enough to hear. “She’s got this ‘experience life’ mantra, and it’s not always a good thing, but I can’t tellherthat because—”
“She wants people to think she can take care of herself,” Holden cut in.
“Yeah.”
Emotions flickered in Holden’s eyes. Concern and something else…fear? “It’s not a bad thing to have people looking out for you.”
“You’re right. But she doesn’t want people to think she’s not strong enough to do it herself.”
“Not strong enough? She’s the strongest person I know. But shewassick, so she needs to be careful that she doesn’t push herself too hard.”
Becket studied him. Was this just about Clara? Holden had been raised by his mother until she’d gotten sick when he was a teenager—lung cancer—and passed away not long after. Jesse had mentioned that her death had affected Holden on a deeper level than most. Partly because she’d been his only family, and he’d gone into foster care after she’d passed. And partly because she’d been sick for so long before she died that it had consumed his life.
Suddenly, Holden straightened. “Where’d they go?”
Becket’s gaze shot back to the table—empty. Shit. He’d been planning on driving Sky home.
He glanced over at the bar to see Sky’s friend and Teddy still talking. They stood close, Teddy’s hand on her hip.
He crossed over to them. “Hey. Do you know where the women went?”
Her brows rose. “Yeah, they came over and said they were heading home. I said I’d stay.”
Who the fuck was driving? They’d all been drinking.
He beelined for the door, Holden close behind. They found the women in the parking lot by Clara’s car.
“Leaving?” Becket asked.
“We are,” Clara said far too casually. “Why?”
“We’ll take you guys home,” Holden said.
“I hardly drank anything.” Clara cocked her head. “You really think I’d drive drunk?”
Holden stepped closer. “I just think it’s safer for me to drive you.”
“I’m really okay. But thank you.” She slid behind the wheel.
“She’s fine to drive,” Indie said before jumping into the passenger seat.
“Sky,” Becket said, a warning in his voice. “I can take you home.”
A half smile curved her lips. “Thank you,boyfriend. But no thanks.”
“Honey, we live next door to each other.”
“Oh, I know. There’s been no avoiding you. Tell me the truth—did the last owner leave because of you?”
His lips twitched. “Let me take you home.”
“Pizza.”
Becket frowned. “Pizza?”
Clara rolled down the window. “We ordered a pizza from Burt.”
