“Wait, you don’t look happy. What’s wrong?” Margot scooted a little closer on the loveseat and put her hand on my knee. “Clara?”
I looked at her and then looked at the small rug on the floor. The edge of it disappeared under our seats, but the blues and greens swirled and danced together in a mesmerizing way.
Margot waited, and I was grateful that she didn’t push. When I finally spoke, the fear I’d been holding onto came out in a rush.
“If he’s been in love with me this whole time, then why hasn’t he said or done anything about it? Why not tell me? Why now? What made him decide to kiss me in the barnnow? What if he’s just tired of not finding the right woman and I’m just convenient and we know each other well enough that he’s … settling?”
Margot was quiet for a few minutes; long enough that I thought maybe she didn’t want to tell me she agreed.
Finally, she said, “I can tell you my opinion and what I think based on the limited amount of time I’ve seen the two of you together. I can repeat it a thousand times over. But I think you need to have this conversation with Beckett. He’s the only one that can give you answers.”
“You’re good at this whole ‘girl talk’ thing, you know.”
Margot grinned, her brown eyes lighting up at the compliment. “Thanks. My door is always open for girl talk.”
“Same for mine. I really needed this tonight. Thank you.”
“I’m happy to help. Do you still want me to tell you what I think?”
I considered for a minute before I nodded. I’d still talk to Beckett because Margot was right about that – it was a conversation we needed to have. But an outside perspective from someone I trust was the kind of objectivity I needed. Plus, she’d been spot on with her input so far.
“That man has been in love with you for a long, long time. I don’t know why he chose now, I really don’t. He’s probably beenscared of losing you and that’s what stopped him from making a move.”
Her words sank in. It was the same reason I’d never said anything about my own feelings – I was too scared to lose his friendship and presence in my life. Hell, were we both the biggest idiots on the planet?
By the time we called it a night, and I collapsed in my own bed, it was nearly midnight.
The only thing I’d figured out was admitting my feelings didn’t have to mean the end of everything. It could, but it wasn’t an inevitable outcome just because I had the thought.
Even with that revelation, I wasn’t sure what to do next. I needed to talk to Beckett about it.
Before I could second-guess my impulse, I sent Beckett a message to see if he could meet tomorrow.
Not only did I want to apologize for vanishing when Noah appeared last night, but I needed to make sure he wasn’t using me as a placeholder for whoever else might come along.
Chapter Nine
Beckett
The knock at my door nearly made me jump out of my skin. It was barely a few minutes after sunrise. There shouldn’t be anyone on my front porch.
I unlocked the deadbolt and yanked the door open, ready to yell at whoever was stupid enough to bother me this early.
Thatcher stood there, a shit-eating grin on his face. He stepped inside before I had the chance to slam the door in his face.
“Morning.” A gruff greeting, despite his smile.
“Morning.” I closed the door behind him and crossed my arms. “You’re here?” I had zero desire to talk to another human being just yet, and my tone made that clear.
My younger brother laughed. “Yeah, I’m here. You’re quick this morning.” Thatch helped himself to a mug from the cabinet and poured from the carafe. “Need me to make you another pot?” He grinned again as he took a sip.
“Is there a specific reason why you’re here at the ass crack of dawn?”
Thatcher leaned back against the counter and shook his head. “Not really.”
“Then what’s up?” I hadn’t moved from my spot at the front door.
“How were the trails?”
