He was rinsing dishes when Holden came to stand beside him. “Looks like things between you two are going well.”
He glanced over at Sky. The women were laughing at something Clara was saying. He’d become so used to her frowns and scowls during her time as his neighbor, every time he got a look at that full smile of hers, it squeezed the fucking air from his chest.
“Yeah,” Becket finally answered. “Things are going well.”
Jesse stood on his other side. As he started putting the leftover food in containers, his voice lowered. “In case you miss it on the local news, there was another break-in.”
Becket stopped and looked at his brother. “Another break-in…but no arrest.”
A muscle ticked in Jesse’s jaw. “No. But they left something behind this time. A black cap.”
He straightened. “Can it be used to identify the person?”
“There were some strands of hair inside. We’ve sent it away to see if we can get a DNA profile, but it will take over a week and if they’re not in the system, it won’t tell us much.”
Jesus Christ.“Did anyone get hurt?”
“No. So far, Sky’s the only one who was home during a theft, which makes me think even more that it was a crime of opportunity. They saw the broken back fence and got greedy.”
And Sky was the one who’d paid the price. His back teeth ground together as he finished the dishes.
“Oh, Aspen, if you and Jesse are planning a trip away, you need to see these photos of Whistler.” His mother pushed back from the table. “I took the kids when they were young so they could snowboard, and they loved it.”
Becket dried his hands. “I’ll get them, Mom. They’re on a high shelf in the office.”
“Thank you, darling.” She turned toward the women. “Advantage of having tall boys.”
He gently squeezed his mother’s arm as he passed her and winked at Sky, whose cheeks turned a pretty rosy pink.
He smiled to himself. Yeah, things were definitely going well between them.
In the office, he studied the photo albums on the top shelf. His mother had documented every part of their childhood, and he loved her for that. For most of their childhoods, she’d raised them on her own and done a hell of a job.
He grabbed the album labeled “Whistler” and turned just as his mother entered the room.
“Hey. I’ve got it,” he said.
“Thank you.” She crossed the distance between them and gripped his arms. “I just need to tell you something.”
“Something that needed to be said in private?” Shit, was he in trouble?
“No, it could have been said out there, but I wanted to say it in here.” She tilted her head. “I like Sky. And I like that she makes you smile.”
“Thanks, Mom, but we should—”
“And…I want you to know that it doesn’t matter how things start. Hate can turn into love…and something that maybe didn’t feel quite so real can turn into the most real thing in your life.”
Becket almost pulled back. Did she know? How the hell did she know?
“You needed someone strong,” his mother finished. “I’m glad you found her.” She took the book from his hands and headed out of the room.
He stood there for another moment, shocked as hell, before shaking his head and returning to everyone. As he returned to the dining room, Sky’s phone rang. She frowned at it, then excused herself and walked down the hall before answering.
Was it her mother? No. Sky had looked surprised by the name on the screen. Her mother called too often for her to be surprised.
Less than a minute later, Sky reentered the room.
He stepped in front of her. “Is everything okay?”
