If it wasn’t the last one before my parents officially retired and handed off the reins, I’d risk at least being late. The temptation of spending the evening exploring Clara’s body and finding new ways to bring her pleasure was almost too strong.
“I need to get dressed,” Clara whispered.
I forced myself to press a quick kiss to her temple and step back. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Clara
Not dropping my towel in front of Beckett had taken all of my self-control. But I waited for the door to click shut before I stepped out into the bedroom.
The last few days had been intense – full of emotional confessions and physical intimacy like I’d never known. Not to mention, more orgasms than I could count. Beckett competed with his own record of how many climaxes he can coax out of my body every time we’ve been intimate. I’d never been able to get beyond two on my own, mostly because that had always been enough.
Beckett is more than happy to spend hours slowly working my body into a heated frenzy until pleasure overtakes everything and then soothing it softly while I find my way back into myself. Over and over.
But tonight was our first event as an official couple. His parents always threw a Kickoff to Summer Party around the Fourth of July, and I’d been going since elementary school. A few years ago, Beckett had started driving me to the party, as friends, so that I could have a few drinks if I wanted and not worry about driving myself home at the end of the night. There was more than one occasion where the Ashland’s let me crash on a couch or in a guest bedroom.
I’d only ever gone with another date once. It had been my freshman year of college, and the worst idea – worst party – ever. The guy had bailed not even halfway through the festivities.
Looking back, Beckett and I probably should have realized and admitted to our feelings sooner. But things worked out in their own way.
I hadn’t been able to shake all of the nerves about officially being on Beckett’s arm at the party. There’d been rumors and gossip about me being a gold-digger and a tease for years. Most of it came in the form of snide comments from former classmates or whispers behind my back by their mothers. And none of it was true or based on anything having to do with reality.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that none of it mattered. Their opinions never mattered. Beckett’s parents had always welcomed me into their home as family, not just a friend of their son.
After my parents died, Beckett started to bring me to every family event, holiday, and even a weekly dinner. In truth, I’ve considered his parents, and brothers, like my extended family for far longer than I haven’t.
The blue sundress hung on the back of the door, and I grinned as I took it off the hanger and slipped it on. The pale shade, thin straps, and ruffles down the side worked so well together. I made a few minor adjustments before slipping into the sandals I’d bought a few days ago.
“I’m ready,” I called as I stepped out of Beckett’s bedroom and into the hall. Beckett met me where the hall opened into the living area, his eyes widening as he took me in.
“You look so beautiful, little wren.”
My blood heated under his gaze, and I blushed at the soft sincerity in his voice. “Thanks. You like the dress?” I ran my hands down the front, a bit nervous.
Beckett stepped closer and held out a hand. When I placed my hand in his, he twirled me in place, as if taking in every detail.
“I do like the dress, but the woman in it makes it even lovelier.” He pulled me against him, my free hand landing on the taut white fabric of his dress shirt. One hand still clasped mine, and his other hand went to my lower back and held me close.
Beckett tipped my chin up so that our gazes met, and he whispered, “I am already counting the seconds until it’s on the floor.” He kissed me, hard and demanding. A promise for later.
My knees were weak when he pulled away a moment later and whispered, “Let’s go have fun, Clara.”
Chapter Fifteen
Clara
The party had been nearly in full swing when Beckett and I walked up the path from his cabin almost three hours ago.
The décor was simple, mostly fresh cut flowers, and bunches of balloons gathered together in various spots in the main lobby and patio. The party was always fun, but the main attraction was the food and atmosphere. His mother had never been one for ostentatious displays, preferring instead to focus on the things that brought people together: food, family, friendship, and community.
Not many people had noticed us at first – it wasn’t unusual for us to arrive together. The whispers hadn’t started until we’d done a round of greeting friends, neighbors, and the other local business owners.
I’d stayed with Beckett instead of moving off into the party during some of the business talk. People tended to forget I had taken over the boutique store from the previous owner and was in fact part of the business community in Foxhollow Ridge.
Though, his hand resting possessively on my lower back garnered the most attention from the women at the party. If he’d been any other man, the possessive grip would have pissed me off. Instead, his touch steadied me. He’d always been my anchor, keeping me from losing myself in whatever mental or emotional storm my brain conjured.
I tried not to worry about the whispers, but it wasn’t until Beckett’s parents found us that my anxiety eased.
“Clara!” Beckett’s mother, Nora, called from a few feet away. She had a sparkle in her eye as she walked over, clocking where Beckett’s hand rested.
