Accepting I was not going to get any work done, I scraped the dried paint into the trash and began cleaning up my workstation, trying not to think about the reason for my distress. There was only one person to blame for how distracted I was of late.
Beckett fucking Quinn fucking Sanders.
Shit, even just thinking his name had my heartrate spiking and I couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
I thought for sure my tired brain was playing tricks on me that day at the park. After so many years of dreaming about seeing Beckett again, to be standing within arm’s reach of him… it felt like there was no way it could have been real. I was convinced I’d never see him again, or hear his deep, husky laugh. I hadn’t let him go, but I hadn’t believed he’d ever be a part of my life again.
Anddamn, was he sexy,just as I knew he would be. He stole my breath, in a way no one ever had before. Silky brown hair, sexy scruff, and a body that belonged to a god. His hazel eyes had stood out to me the most - expressive as always, changing with his moods. They were much greener than I remembered them being, revealing just how happy Beckett had been to see me. Not just happy,thrilled.
I was happy to see him too, of course, but I was also conflicted. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect Beckett to track me down. Maybe after a few years, sure. But ten? Andwhywould he want to see me, now especially? I couldn’t fathom it. I didn’t even know how to process it. I’d tried to just enjoy my time with him these last few days, but the weight of our past was still suffocating me. I didn’t know how to let go of what I’d done to him.
His presence brought to the surface years of guilt I’d tried so hard to let go of. I had shattered that man’s heart, there was just no other way to put it. I knew I wasn’t the cause of our separation, of course, but that never eased the soul-crushing guilt I had in knowing I’d devastated him. I’d broken a promise that I’dneverintended to break, and in the process, I’d hurt Beckett.
I just knew I couldn’t get my hopes up. Beckett had said he would come back, but I wasn’t convinced he had areasonto. Why would he? We had two completely different lives now, in different states, no less. He had a business in Atlanta and so did I, here in Reedsport. What did we have to bind our friendship together now? What were we supposed to do?
I reached for a blanket and curled up against the panes of the large bay window. It was one of my favorite places to be when things became too much, a refuge within my own home. The cool glass was comforting, and the sound of the waves rolling in grounded me in a way I needed.
When Beckett had asked me if I was okay—the real kind of okay, not the rhetorical kind—I wasn’t entirely sure how to answer him. I hadn’t lied, Iwasokay now. More than okay, actually. Happy even. But, those first few years after I’d left Atlanta had been miserable.
No. Not just miserable.
That wasn’t a strong enough word.
To be ripped away from a home where I’d finally let myself be comfortable and loved, only to be forced to go to that…prisonwas absolute hell. At least, in the beginning it was. Sure, it had been a gorgeous three-story mansion, but it was still my own personal hell, where classrooms were replaced with private tutors, friends weren’t encouraged, and art was entirely dismissed. For a long time, I despised the man who’d brought me there, who’d flipped my life upside down and sent me into a dangerous cycle of depression.
I felt some of that bitterness start to emerge again and had to remind myself thingsdidget better between my grandfather and me, but it was a long, bumpy road getting there, full of heartache, uncertainty, and doubt. In the end, I grew to love him more deeply than I ever could have imagined. He made a terrific impact on me and I knew, without a doubt, I’d miss him every day for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t have the life I do now if it weren’t for him.
So yes, Iwasokay now, and I did forgive my grandfather for all the heartache. I just hadn’t realized until I saw Beckett again, how deep the hole in my heart still was, how much I still missed him and the Henrys.
My phone chirped from the opposite side of the room, where it was plugged into the power cord. I couldn’t bring myself to see who it was, too lost in my thoughts. When it started ringing, I gave in and got up to answer it without looking at the screen.
“Preston speaking.”
“Hey.”
One single word in that low, soothing voice was all it took to knock the air from my lungs.
“Beckett,” I breathed, both in surprise and relief. Only then did I realize how little faith I placed in his promise to call me.
“Hope I didn’t wake you. I know it’s late.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I… You called.”
“Told you I would, didn’t I?” There was a hint of humor in his voice, making me picture him with a small, sexy smile on his handsome face. The image made my own lips turn up just a smidge.
“Did you make it to Savannah?”
“Yeah, I’m at the police station now. Michael has two warrants out for his arrest, and his face is everywhere. He won’t get far.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
When Beckett first told me he was a P.I., I’d nearly laughed out loud because all I could think about was Detective Beach, his character we conjured up for the comic book we’d created as kids. As soon as I realized he was serious, though, my heart sank. Beckett had a dangerous career and Ireallydidn’t like thinking about him in danger.
“How’s Amelia?” he asked.
Fear and anger shot through me at the thought of my friend, quickly chased by shame. I’d spent nearly four hours with her at the hospital until visiting hours were over, but as soon as I got home and lost myself in my art, my mind quickly drifted back to Beckett. How had I not thought of Amelia even once tonight since then?
“Distraught and sore from all the bruising, but the doctors say she’s fine. Physically, at least. I’m not so sure she’s okay otherwise. They’ll be being releasing her in a couple days. That reminds me, why isn’t she being arrested? Even if she was cleared of the murder, she’s the one who stole the box.”
