“Ah-ah.”
Arden sucked in an annoyed breath, eyes bright. “Beckett?—”
“Arden. Say it.”
Arden broke free of Beckett’s grip, because Beckett let him, only instead of backing up, he took hold of Beckett’s face and leaned down to say, “You were wrong to do it. You scared me. You were cruel.”
“Good,” Beckett said hoarsely, every word landing like a knockout hit.
“Now it’s my turn.I’msorry. I’m sorry that Jack had to marry me. I’m sorry that he had to s-send me to Avendene ahead of him and I was a horrible surprise. I’m sorry that I went into heat for you. I didn’t know that was how it worked. If I had, then I wouldn’t have peeked so much. Or I’d have tried not to. I promise. I’m sorry I’ve spoiled your relationship with Jack. That I’ve wedged myself in the middle of it. I never would have. I’d have stayed away if I’d known, and…and I’m sorry.”
“Are you finished?”
“Yes!”
“Then kiss me.”
He hesitated for all of a second before he ducked down and mashed his mouth to Beckett’s.
Beckett wanted to pull him in, pull him down, roll him on the lawn. Kiss him madly, wildly, make him wild for it.
He eased him away after the smallest peck.
“Seems to me,” he said, “that we’ve both got things we’re sorry for.”
Arden panted lightly.
“Difference is, Arden, the things you’re sorry for were all out of your control. What I did, I did on purpose.”
He watched Arden’s eyes, dark with full and shining pupils. He watched that sink in.
Then Arden said, “Because you’re an arsehole.”
Beckett laughed. “I am.”
Swallowing hard, going shy again, Arden said offhand, “It is a good thing that I rather like arseholes.”
Beckett gave him a feral grin. “Me too, sweetheart. Me, too.”
Arden didn’t work it out until Beckett gave his bum a frisky squeeze, and then he made an indignant little noise that had Beckett laughing again.
“Forgive me?” Beckett said.
“Yes,” he said at once, and then ruined it by adding, “If you forgive m?—”
“Arden,” he said sharply.
Arden sighed. “Yes.”
“Good.” Beckett got to his feet slowly, holding Arden’s hips. He kept his hands on Arden as he did it, but the instant Arden tried to pull away, he let him slip out of his grasp.
Arden fussed with his curls, touched his throat lightly, and hummed. “Shall we…?”
“Yes,” Jack called from where he was waiting at the end of the path, leaning against the gate with his arms over his chest and his ankles crossed. Where he’d been watching and listening to the whole thing. “We shall! Or I won’t get to spend time with either of you before I have to leave.”
Arden turned to Jack at once, and hurried off. He paused and waved at Beckett, who obligingly strolled after him.
All in all,Beckett thought as he walked beside Jack along a sunken lane with fern-covered shady banks as high as his head, it had worked out better than he’d dared hope.
