Another problem for another day.
Feeling restless and cooped up, Beck paced to the window, then back to the bed. The room was comfortable—understated wallpaper, a quilt that looked handmade, the kind of guest room that said you’re welcome here without being overly fussy. But it felt too quiet. Too peaceful for his unsettled mood.
Still, he had nowhere to go and nothing to do, so he climbed into bed with a curse and tried to close his eyes. They bounced open again seconds later. He stared at the ceiling fan as it turned lazy circles overhead, too wound up and too mired in how wrong all this felt.
Across the hall, Heavenly was curled up with Seth. Beck could picture them—her tucked against Seth’s chest, his arm wrapped around her as they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. He wasn’t jealous. Seth loved her, and Beck didn’t begrudge him a damn thing. But he should fucking be there, too. That bed wasn’t complete without all three of them. Hell, Heavenly slept better when she was between them. For that matter, so did he.
He was tempted to throw caution to the wind and sneak into their room. If he was quiet, he’d get away with it. Grace and Carl were at the other far end of the hall. As long as he and Seth didn’t make Heavenly scream, no one would hear…probably.
But probably wasn’t good enough. Not the night before Grace’s wedding. Not when one wrong move could blow all their carefully constructed facades to hell.
Hating every minute of this, Beck jerked the covers and turned over, staring out the damn window at the quaint suburban street with a huff.
The fact that he couldn’t hear anything from across the hall—no murmurs, no creaking of bedsprings, no soft laughter—only made his mood more surly. They were holding back for him; he knew that. And he felt guilty as hell.
Beck tried to drift off, but sleep required stillness. His body refused to cooperate. He shifted onto his back. Then his other side. The pillow was too flat. The blanket too warm. Every position felt wrong because the bed itself was too big, too empty.
He checked his phone. Quarter ’til one.
Fuck.
He set the phone back on the nightstand and closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth while counting back from one hundred.
It didn’t work.
His mind kept circling back to the same place: Heavenly, just across the hall. So close and yet completely out of reach. He rolled over again, punched the pillow into a different shape, and glared at the ceiling.
Time dragged. He watched the rotations of the ceiling fan. Listened to the house settle around him—the creak of old wood, the hum of the refrigerator downstairs, the faint whistle of wind against the windows.
Nothing helped.
He grabbed his phone again. Quarter after one.
Damn it.
Suddenly, his phone flashed in the darkness. An incoming text. From Seth.
She can’t sleep.
Beck hesitated. Was Seth asking what he thought?
Cursing, he launched himself out of bed and eased his door open. A quick scan told him the dimly lit hallway was empty. The house was silent. No light seeped under the door from Grace and Carl’s room.
Still, did Seth really want to risk it?
Cooper cracked the door, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He whispered across the dark hall, “She needs you.”
It would be so easy to hustle into their room and cuddle Heavenly. Hell, he ached to. But… “It’s risky.”
Seth hesitated, then nodded. “I know. Just for a few minutes, until she falls asleep.”
He nodded sharply, pulse revving, as he darted across the hall in three strides, bare feet silent on the hardwood. Seth pulled the door open just wide enough for Beck to slip through, then closed it behind him with a soft click that sounded impossibly loud in the quiet house.
The second Beck stepped inside, he sought Heavenly. She sat against the headboard, knees drawn up, her hair a messy halo around her face, her soft face illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Instantly, her stare latched onto him with an intensity that bordered on desperate.
When their gazes fused, relief and joy transformed her expression like a sunrise breaking through storm clouds. Heart kicking up, Beck crossed to her without a word, arms outstretched.
She launched herself against his chest. He kissed her forehead. He wanted to kiss more…but he held back. She needed sleep, not sex.
