They exchanged a look, which caused the fear that had been gnawing at me from the inside out, to grow exponentially. “Where is he?” I demanded.
“We don’t know,” Ben said. “He’s, um, pretty upset.”
I waited for some kind of explanation, but neither of them seemed willing to tell me. “Where does he live? Give me his address.”
Tosh was quick to write his address down on a scrap of paper, along with the nearest cross-streets. She also wrote her and Ben’s phone numbers before handing it to me. “Please let us know if you find him.”
I turned to leave but stopped. “His niece. Harper. Beckett said something about her appendix. Is she okay?”
“She’s doing just fine. They expect to be releasing her in a couple days.”
With that, I ran.
***
Finding Beckett’s apartment had taken me nearly two hours in the early evening traffic. I was beyond frustrated by the time I pulled up to the address Tosh had given me. It was a brick three-story complex with two carports, but I didn’t see his Explorer anywhere.
“Beckett, it’s me. Open up,” I called, pounding on the door.
There was no answer. No hint of life on the other side. I tried again, but still nothing. The weight of the last few hours felt heavy on my shoulders as I slid down to the ground. I had no other way of finding him, no idea where else he might be. All I could do was wait. I tried calling him a few more times, but each time it went to voicemail. My worry was turning into full-on panic and I knew I was on the edge of losing it. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, counting slowly to try to calm my racing heart.
“Come on, Beckett!” I pleaded to the empty air, which was becoming heavy with humidity.
Footsteps sounded from around the corner and a moment later a tall man with a full head of beautiful blonde hair appeared, a phone to his ear. He hadn’t noticed me until I started to scramble to my feet. He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket.
“Who are you?” he asked in a tone that had me instantly on edge.
“I’m looking for the man who lives here, Beckett Sanders. Have you seen him?” I asked, wondering who this man was. Beckett didn’t mention a roommate.
“Uh, no, I haven’t. That’s why I’m here. His sister called me a few hours ago but I just got off work. His family is worried.”
My heart lurched.Toshknew this man? “Yeah, um, he’s not answering my calls either. I’m worried about him too,” I said, quickly dashing at my tears.
There were several long, uncomfortable seconds of him studying me before he said in a slightly stunned voice, “You’re the guy from his past.”
I blinked at him, confused. “Sorry?”
“You’re the guy he reconnected with, aren’t you? From Reedsport? Beck never told me your name.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, because I didn’t know what Beckett told this stranger about me. Not wanting to overshare, I decided to go with the truth but as little of it as possible. “Yes, I am. Please help me find him. I have no idea where to look.”
An ugly surge of jealousy ripped through me when the man withdrew a key from his pocket and unlocked the front door. My eyes lingered on the tiny object much longer then they should have.Whydid this guy have a key to my boyfriend’s apartment? The simplest answer was he had to be Beckett’s ex-boyfriend, and as much as I didn’t want it to, that possibility cut through me like a knife. The man was undeniably beautiful. Stunning even. And me? Well, I was nothing compared to him. If this was the kind of man Beckett was attracted to…
I tried not to listen to the doubts creeping in as I followed him inside, but my insecurity grew as I watched the blond Adonis move around the apartment with ease. He even knew where the light switches were in the dark without fumbling. It was obvious he was comfortable in Beckett’s space, maybe even intimately so. My gut twisted at the imagesthatthought conjured up and I forced myself to tear my eyes away.
I lingered in the living space while he went down a small, narrow hall, pausing to glance through two open doors. I used the time to take in my surroundings. Everything felt so… wrong. I simply couldn’t picture Beckett in such a bland, lifeless apartment. Beckett –myBeckett – deserved more than that lumpy threadbare couch, broken recliner, and chipped Formica countertops. The only thing that even remotely resembled the man I knew, besides how impeccably tidy it was, were the few pieces of art scattered about on the walls and tucked away on small shelves in the corners. I couldn’t help but wonder if this had been a temporary living arrangement, or if this was where he’d been living the last six years since returning home from the army.
My eyes landed on Lady Jasmine—the ship he’d purchased from my booth in the park—and I froze. I always liked that ship with her unique style and one of a kind features, but seeing her here, in Beckett’s home, was enough to make my breath catch. He’d displayed her front and center above the fireplace, where anyone could see whether they were in the kitchen, dining room, or living room. The shelf below it was shiny and recently dusted, too, unlike the shelves his other decorations rested on. Clearly, he was proud of that piece of art… proud ofme.
I trailed my finger along the mantel, missing Beckett more than I’d ever missed him before.
“He’s obsessed.”
I jumped, startled by the stranger’s voice and turned to see him watching me with interest in his blue eyes.
“Sailboats, ships, speedboats. All of them. Beckett has a slight obsession with them.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Any ideas where he could be? I really need to find him.”
