Page 16
“It was fine.”
Wow. I blow out a breath. It’s like pulling teeth. “Why are you here if you don’t really want to be?”
“The bar?” he questions, gesturing to the wall of drinks in front of us.
“No, Vegas.”
“I was forced.” He shrugs like that little tidbit is no big deal.
“Forced?”
“Yep. Gun to my head kind of stuff.”
“By whom?” My brows furrow as I finally take a sip of my drink, and Beckett swivels in his seat, trapping my gaze as he delivers his response.
“My mom.”
I snort out loud, then cough as liquid propels down my windpipe, forcing me to work hard not to spit all over my best friend's extremely handsome brother. “Sorry,” I rasp, my voice scratching the back of my throat. “Trudy is great.”
Understatement of the year.
Trudy Myers isn’t just great—she’s my inspiration, my rock. The woman I want to be when I grow up. She’s been raising Beckett and Henley alone since her ex-husband—their dad—left them to start a new family. I don’t know all the details, but while at the time he supported the family financially, Trudy had to endure so much when he was around that it was a blessing when he left. Except that she was then forced to juggle family life and full-time work, all while moving on from the emotional scars their father left her.
She’s an angel.
My parents are great too, but whenever I have a question about motherhood, or life in general, Trudy is the one I turn to.
My declaration earns me a genuine smile from Beckett, and the sight of it has my heart somersaulting in my chest. He’s visited our bookstore a few times over the years, and I’ve always found him attractive in the same way I admire actors or rock stars, with no emotional attachment, because it’s not an idea I’d ever entertain.
The problem is, I’d placed Beckett on that list having never been graced with a smile like this before. His eyes light up with a warmth I haven’t seen from a man in years and…
I am incredibly tipsy. Calm down, Lily.
Beckett leans in closer and I freeze, my eyes widening as I mentally question what the hell he’s doing.
“She is great. She’s the only person I let tell me what to do.” He chuckles to himself and… I am dead.
“Oh, really?” I bite my lip as my mind starts buzzing with images I shouldn’t entertain, a blush coating my skin.
Beckett stares at me deadpan and I nervously giggle. “I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. But I get it. I love your mom.”
“Everyone loves my mom.”
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“I never pictured you as a mama’s boy.”
“Good.”
“Good? Why?”
“Because now I know you weren’t lying when you said Henley doesn’t talk about me. She calls me a mama’s boy all the time. And I own it.” He immediately turns toward his drink and knocks back the last drops as though he’s already checked out of the conversation. But I’m not ready to let him go. He’s much more intriguing than I ever could have guessed.
“You help her out financially, don’t you?” I ponder, freezing him in place.
I’m not sure what propelled me to ask such a personal question, or where it came from in the first place, but I don’t take it back. Something Trudy once said pops into my mind and I know I’m right. “I have a guardian angel. Without him, I’d be struggling.” We were talking about rising interest rates at the time, and I remember thinking she was referring to her dad, who I know helped out when her asshole ex left town.
