There was a knock at the door that drew Quinton away and ended Beckett’s opportunity to insist he head to a hotel.
“Hey, Vivian.” Quinton’s ears turned bright red—a sure sign he found the woman attractive. Beckett smothered the smile, instantly sliding into the role of wingman.
He took a step back. The soft way Quinton said her name spoke to his level of interest. Vivian hustled into the house, followed closely by a young boy. Both had straight black hair and deep brown eyes. Vivian’s hair hung over the right side of her face and swooped back like a Charlie’s Angel’s do without as much volume. Her dark eyes were all made up like she was going clubbing, and she had on a flowing shirt and tight black pants. The boy hung tight to her side, his eyes wide as he stared at Beckett.
Beckett had seen that look a hundred times. He checked Vivian for a wedding ring, praying the man that put the fear in the child’s eyes was no longer in his life. Her left hand was bare. He lifted his eyes and found that she’d caught him checking for a ring. Well, that was just great.
Quinton shut the door. “Vivian, this is Beckett, my friend. Beckett, this is Vivian and Jason Jin. Vivian is Daisy’s editor.”
“Editor?” Quinton focused on folding blankets.
“Videographer,” Vivian threw in. Like that explained anything.
Quinton leaned over so he was at Jason’s level. “Do you want something to eat?”
Vivian draped her arm across Jason’s shoulders. “We just had breakfast.”
Beckett tucked his chin. So the damage was to both of them, but mom was better at hiding it than Jason. She was strong, he’d give her that. Good. She’d saved her son. Beckett had seen what happened to kids who didn’t get out from under the heavy hand of physical abuse. He hated that things like this even happened. With quick snaps, he folded the sheet and set it aside.
Quinton motioned for them to follow him. “I’ll bet you didn’t have Pop Tarts.”
The kid brightened. Vivian rolled her eyes. “You can have one.”
“Can I put it in the toaster?” Jason asked.
“You bet,” Quinton replied.
Beckett hung back. He finished putting the couch to rights and even fluffed the throw pillows before putting them in place. Quinton called him into have a bowl of cereal. He ate, mostly listening as Jason talked about school and the science project he was excited about. When he was done, he rinsed his bowl and set it in the dishwasher before retrieving his toothbrush and heading towards the bathroom. Just as he got to the end of the hallway, Daisy’s door swung open. She stepped out and then right back holding the door, ready to shut it if he charged.
Beckett blinked once and then stared. She wore a white T-shirt and white yoga pants. But it wasn’t her clothing that had him speechless—it was her hair. He remembered it being a copper color, but it was a deep, deep sunset red. It cascaded down her shoulders, across her chest, and hung so far down her back he could get lost in it for days. Her skin was creamy and flawless and her eyes looked even bigger than they had a half hour ago.
He reached right out and fingered a strand of her hair. “How did you fit all this inside my sock?” The words made it past his filter. He dropped her hair, feeling like a complete idiot.
Daisy smirked. “You’ll have to watch my channel to find out.” She handed him twenty dollars. “Thanks for the loaner. I’ll have it washed before you get back.” She winked. “Go buy yourself something pretty.”
He chuckled. “I’m not taking your money.”
“Why not?”
“Because …” He closed the distance between them and dug his fingers into her hair. She stiffened at first and then melted as he allowed her hair to slip through his fingers like fine silk. “This was totally worth it.”
Her eyes softened. “That was the worst line I’ve ever heard.”
He opened his mouth to protest. He wasn’t feeding her a line. He meant it. He’d go without socks for a month to be able to do that again.
“But, it was the best delivery.”
He scrubbed her fingers against her scalp and her body shivered.
Beckett’s hands moved towards her sides. He wasn’t thinking, only acting on instinct, and all his instincts told him to hold her close.
“Are you two still fighting?” Quinton brushed past them and grabbed his shoes out of his room.
Beckett put space between him and Daisy. She did the same, her back pressed against the wall as she stepped away. He took in a breath, the air colder now that he wasn’t sharing it with Daisy. “Not fighting,” Beckett assured him. “Just a little flirting.” He smiled at the pink dusting that appeared on Daisy’s cheeks.
“Dude—that’s my sister. Don’t.” Quinton smacked the back of Beckett’s head. “We’re going to be late.” He turned to Daisy. “Vivian and Jason are in the kitchen.”
“Great.” She headed that direction and didn’t look back.
