I barely paid attention to my brother as he sat there, watching me for whatever reason. But I did figure out a plan for what to do about Clara.
Thatch left after cleaning his mug, and I followed after him, grabbing my keys, phone, wallet, and secured on a baseball cap instead of my usual hat. My first step wasn’t on the ranch.
Nerves prickled along my skin, an unfamiliar sensation. I had no idea if I was about to do the right thing or completely implode our friendship. But no matter what happened, Clara needed to know, and I needed to know if she felt the same.
Chapter Ten
Clara
A knock at my door interrupted my sit-in-a-towel-on-my-bed post-shower routine. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I grabbed my robe, the initial shock turning into anger because who the hell is knocking on my door before seven in the morning?
Cinching the belt of my favorite plaid robe, which I’d stolen from Beckett when we were in our late teens, I checked the peep hole on my apartment door.
Beckett.
I undid all three locks that Beckett himself had installed the same day I moved into the apartment and about flung the door open.
Holy shit.
He looked incredible. One of my favorite long-sleeved shirts was unbuttoned over a plain white tee, the sleeves rolled up. The blue, green, and brown checkered pattern brought out the flecks of amber in his green eyes.
His jeans were well-worn but still snug across his muscular thighs. And the man had replaced his usual cowboy hat with the baseball cap I’d insisted on buying for him at the first Colorado team’s game we’d ever been to. There were some frayed spots along the edge of the curved bill that made my heart swell.
My anger at the early visit dissipated into slight annoyance. I said softly, “You’re here early.”
“I know, and I’m sorry to break your ‘no-visitors-before-eight-am’ rule. I did bring coffee.” He held up the drink carrier I’d somehow missed, and also a bag with the name and logo of my favorite bakery. There were two iced drinks and a hot drink in the tray.
I stepped back to give him space to walk into the apartment. I didn’t miss the way he looked me up and down, his gaze heating. I froze as he stepped into my space, very aware that only a thin layer of cotton covered my otherwise naked body.
Beckett bent down to whisper, “Good morning, beautiful,” before placing a kiss on my temple.
My entire body warmed, the heat radiating outward from my chest, but not with desire – well, not only desire. That simple press of his lips made me feel cherished.
I closed the door slowly and locked two of the bolts. Beckett was in the kitchen, clearly comfortable as he gathered plates, my reusable cloth towels, and my favorite mug.
The sight of his broad shoulders, and just the sheer size of him in my cozy kitchen space was overwhelming. I looked down at myself. I couldn’t stay in this robe, or I’d end up straddling his thigh, begging for release, again.
“I’ll be right back,” I said and escaped to my bedroom. As the door snicked shut, I took a deep breath in and let it out.
It was too early in the morning for whatever was going on in my head and body. I put the robe away and dressed in a too-big-on-me t-shirt with a faded image of the Rocky Mountains andmy favorite pair of sleep shorts. I didn’t need to open the store for a few hours, and I preferred comfort in my own apartment.
Why the hell is Beckett here?
My brain would not fire on all cylinders this early without coffee. Even my shower hadn’t been enough to fully wake me.
I brushed through my still-damp hair with my fingers, not even bothering to grab a brush. I twisted it into a loose bun, securing it with a clip, and put on lip balm. Out of reasons to delay, I stepped out of my bedroom.
Beckett leaned back against the kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other. The smile he gave me warmed my entire body. His eyes roamed over my change in clothes, my bare legs, and finally settled on my face.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied, a bit sheepish.
He held out the mug he gave me one year for our annual Friendship Day, our attempt at replacing Valentine’s Day as lonely high school seniors. Pale blue, and larger than a standard ceramic mug, I loved it more than was probably healthy.
“Coffee.”
I walked over to him and took it, our fingers brushing as he released his grip.
