“Are you okay?”
Her soft, husky voice helped dispel old thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
“Well, thanks again.” She made a sweeping motion with her hand.
Bekkett rubbed the back of his neck, not trusting himself to say anything else. He jerked his thumb toward the bar and shook the man’s hand. The way Fred’s lips split into a smile let him know he made the right move.
“If I can give the two of you any advice, it’s to get some self-defense training. I know you think youcan handle yourselves. I’m not discrediting either of you. However, everyone can stand to learn some moves on how to protect themselves and how to take down an attacker if it comes down to it.”
Fred hiked his thumb toward the woman. “She’s a black belt in—” he slammed his mouth shut at a glare and a shove from his friend.
“Anyway, thank you for coming back and helping us. If you’re in the neighborhood again, stop in for a drink. The first one will be on the house,” she said, turning toward the driver’s door of the pickup truck.
Bekkett knew a dismissal when he heard one, and this one was screaming at him. “Will do. Get home safe,” he said.
She pulled her door open and didn’t spare him another glance. Fred waved and did the same. Bekkett didn’t wait around for them to leave first. He spun on his boot heel and went around the front, his breath coming out in puffy clouds of air. “It’s fucking cold,” he muttered as he walked.
The rumble of her pickup echoed through the quiet night as she and Fred exited the parking lot. He used the key fob to unlock his door, climbing insidethe big rig before he followed. Instead of turning right as they had, he went left, heading toward his family home. A good night’s sleep and some home cooking, he knew his mother always made, was precisely what he needed.
Chapter Three
Bekkett stretched his arms over his head. The sun coming in through the window disoriented him, making him blink until he remembered he wasn’t down in Santa Clarita.
The fresh smell of coffee and bacon made him sit up faster than usual. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing his hand down his face as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling window from the upstairs loft bedroom. Memories tried to break through the barriers he’d erected as he looked out at the winter landscape surrounding the outdoors.
“Beck, breakfast is done,” his mother hollered up the stairs.
Bekkett cracked his neck. His eyes watched fat flakes fall outside the thick glass, wondering who else was up. More than likely, everyone but him, since they hadn’t been out past midnight. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to put off facing his family forever, he got to his feet. A cold breeze brought chills to his bare skin. “Fuck, it gets colder every year,” he muttered.
A brief knock on the door interrupted his swearing.
“Yo, baby bro. Mom isn’t letting us mere regular people eat until the prodigal son comes down...damn, put some clothes on before you blind me with your junk,” Samson muttered, waving his hand toward Bekkett’s naked body.
Bekkett grinned. “Boy, you’re the one who barged in here without waiting for an invitation. It’s not my fault you get to see all of me in my glory.”
He loved fucking with his brother, knowing it made him squirm. Although Samson was older than him by three years, he was smaller in every way. While Bekkett stood at six feet four and weighed close to two hundred and fifty pounds, his brother barely topped six feet, and if he weighed two hundred pounds, it was thanks to the belly overlapping his belt. His big brother needed to cut down on beer and chips and hit the gym more often.
“Glory, my ass. You look like you’ve been taking a bunch of roids or some shit.” Samson turned his back, holding onto the door handle with a tight grip.
“If I’d been taking roids, my dick would’ve shrunk. As you clearly see, I ain’t lacking in that area, boy. Don’t spout shit you can’t back. I don’t goaround slamming beers and eating my weight in junk like some people. I don’t need to take any sort of drugs to get through the day,” he gritted out through his teeth. Of all the things to accuse him of, taking anything that would fuck with his mind or body appalled him.
Samson dropped his head. The dejected look made him appear sincere, yet Bekkett didn’t trust Samson as far as he could throw him.
“Boys, get a move on it,” their mother yelled.
“I’ll be down in ten minutes. I need to take a quick shower,” Bekkett replied.
He turned his back on Samson, strolling into the attached bathroom without another word. He’d make sure to lock the fucking door from here on out.
Ten minutes later, he walked into the massive kitchen that opened onto the great room. His mother stood next to the large horseshoe-shaped island with her long hair in a French braid down her slim back. She turned as he moved in beside her, opening her arms with a wide smile.
“I’m so happy you’re home, Beck. You look even more handsome than the last time I saw you.California seems to suit you. Although I wish you’d move back here, I can see you’re obviously happy down there. Sit, let me make you a plate.”
His mother spoke fast, not giving him a chance to speak. He held up his hand as she picked up a plate.
“Ma, I can make my own plate,” he insisted.
She shook her head. “Of course you can, but so can I. Now sit down by your father.”
