As we walked into the kitchen, I saw a plethora of leftovers in tin food trays on the island. How things could change so quickly. Not long ago, it was a taco bar. And my man troubles were named Mathieu, not Beck. Talk about complicated.
“Wine is already opened,” Delaney said, a flurry of activity commencing as everyone grabbed drinks and plates.
“Red?” Beck asked me, grabbing a glass.
“Yeah, red,” Delaney answered for me when I paused, my thoughts a jumbled mess. “Goes better with the meal.”
Laughing, I accepted the glass from Beck as everyone chatted and dug in. Pia and Mason talked about the wedding, and how far Heritage Hill had come now that they were doing events. Parker updated them on the final stages of the renovation which we’d set to be finished by summer, which led to a discussion about his and Delaney’s house.
One thing we didn’t discuss? Me and Beck.
Thankfully.
But that didn’t stop him from not so subtly reminding me things weren’t 100 percent normal between us. At one point, Beck caught me watching him eat from across the island and winked at me. At another, when I tried to refill my wine, he took the glass from me, his fingers brushing mine, and did it for me.
Every look, every touch, made one thing clear. We might be in the friendzone, but now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, there was a chemistry between us that I couldn’t believe I’d missed.
Or maybe I hadn’t.
Thinking back on me and Beck, as I’d done since Saturday night, a lot of things made more sense now. I could even admit, at times, to a slight twinge of jealousy at a few of Beck’s stories, ones of second dates and hints he might actually be taking a woman he was with seriously. But inevitably, he would push her away, solidifying his “playboy” persona. One that would never jive with a ticking internal clock of womanhood. I’d always wanted children, a family, and dating someone like Beck? Never a consideration.
Until now.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Beck noticed.
“Just taking it all in,” I said. “You guys really do have a good thing going here, you know that?”
“Wehave a good thing going,” Beck clarified. “You’re a part of us too now, Mae. Like it or not, you’re stuck.”
“What’s not to like?”
“Exactly,” Parker agreed. “Especially now that Mason’s less moody, thanks to his wife.” He looked at her glass. “How’s the iced tea?”
“Zip it.” Pia took a sip. “Delicious. Almost as good as a glass of vino.”
Mason snorted, earning a look from his wife.
“So word on the street is that we’re celebrating tonight,” Parker said, looking at Beck.
“You didn’t mention a celebration.” I twisted my wine glass back and forth between my fingers.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “All of you.”
So even Parker didn’t know what this was about. Interesting.
“Lemme guess, you’re quitting O’Malley’s and buying that food truck you always wanted?”
Beck’s expression made me laugh. “I never once talked about wanting a food truck.”
“Nah.” Parker stood behind Delaney, kissing her on the head. “He’s going to propose a group marriage. Unfortunately, I’m not into that kind of thing. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Everyone laughed.
“Ladies? Any guesses?”
By the way Beck was looking at me—expectantly, as if excited—I had one. And I couldn’t be more thrilled.
“You’re buying the bar?”
