Page 41 of Make it a Double

My hands landed against his chest as his hands landed on my waist. I could barely breathe, unable to think about anything other than what he’d find if he’d decided to slide his hands over my stomach. He was all smiles and sunshine as he stared down at me. His gaze swept across my face as his hold on me tightened. “Pretending I’m not dying to kiss you right now.”

“Beckett—” Alarm bells pealed as I tried to focus on the man in front of me. My brain was dangerously close to short-circuiting at our proximity. I could smell his cologne on his clothes and the mint from his gum with every short, staccato breath we shared. “Friends, remember? Friends don’t kiss.”

And then it was gone. All of his warmth and comfort evaporated as he untangled us and stepped back, gesturing toward the door he just opened. “You’re right. Hungry?”

I hadn’t been five minutes ago. My stomach was tied in little knots that refused to come loose. But now I was ravenous.

Only, it wasn’t for food.

We pulled up to the only chain restaurant in Pinecrest. Beckett grimaced as he got out of his car. I followed suit and opened my door, only to find him standing in front of me with his hand outstretched.

The bright Chili’s sign casting an ominous red glow around Beckett’s silhouette was almost more than I could take. He looked so out of place here. Had the man ever experienced the religious experience that came with ordering a triple dipper? My money was on no.

“Chili’s, huh?” I asked, hiding my smile as he shifted on his feet. Thank god the smell of the food here hadn’t sent me running for the bathroom yet. At least I didn’t have to worry about him taking me to Pete’s Catfish and Grits.

Now that would’ve had me locking the door and refusing to get out.

“Limited options,” he grumbled. “I had half a mind to drive you to Nashville for some halfway decent restaurants, but figured that might get me in trouble.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little small town comfort. You may even like it.”

He looked skeptically up at the sign. “Never say never, I suppose.”

I stepped out of the car. “We’ll have to grab breakfast at Lucy’s Diner sometime. You’ll love it.”

“I’ll add it to our bucket list,” he said, smiling.

Again, his hand found the small of my back.

And again… I didn’t stop him.

There were a million reasons why I should, mostly a selfish desire to protect my own heart when this perfect bubble of ours burst at the end of the night. Beckett was here for work. He wasn’t packing his bags and moving to Pinecrest, nor would he be staying when whatever job he was working on was done.

There was a part of me that wanted to throw caution to the wind and indulge just one more time. I’d done nothing but dream of the way his kiss had me damn near levitating out of my body or how his touch made me see stars. Being so close and telling him to keep his hands to himself was torture.

But the alternative would kill me.

I needed to keep that in mind. No matter how panty-melting his smile or dazzling his charm… Beckett Montgomery needed to stay firmly in the friend zone.

It wasn’t until we were walking into the restaurant that I realized my mistake. All eyes gravitated toward us when we walked in, whether intentional or not. My skin began to crawl as folks’ interested gazes lingered for a beat too long before flicking away. Most of the people in here were the same Nosy Nellies who had been repeatedly asking who the father of my baby was. And now, here I was, showing up with a random handsome stranger.

Fuck. My. Life.

“You okay?” Beckett asked, running his large hand along my back. “Cold?”

I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway. He immediately shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over my shoulders. Then, with an incredibly gentle hand, he helped pull my hair free from where it was trapped while I stupidly stood there and stared at him.

If I thought his cologne was overwhelming before, it was suffocating now. I was dizzy with the need to imprint his scent to memory. It was clean and masculine, like the smell of double-barrelled bourbon in Kentucky on a warm summer’s day.

How frowned upon would it be to never give this back? Asking for a friend.

I blamed the overly horny and hormonal version of myself that didn’t understand anything other than the need to satisfy certain urges, rather than the rational Sawyer I’d become.

“Well, wasn’t that sweet?” the bottle-blonde hostess cooed as she stepped forward. I tore my eyes from Beckett and tugged his jacket tighter. Her jeans were painted on, hugging every curve. Or at least, they would’ve if she had any curves. “How many are joining y’all?”

“Just the two of us,” Beckett answered. He stepped up beside me as the young girl showed us to a booth at the back of the restaurant, all the while sending flirty little glances to Beckett as often as she could.

There were plenty of tables closer to the door, but I wondered if she walked us as far away as she could just so she’d have an opportunity to shake her ass in his face.