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My mouth pulls up in a half smile, thinking about my brother. “He’s exactly the same.”
Beckett laughs, “No surprise there.”
“He’s got a pretty nice apartment in downtown Saint Paul that’s walking distance from the bank he manages. And because James never stops complaining about it, I know Tony still lives in Seattle, and that they never get to see each other.”
Beckett smirks, “I hear those same complaints from my mother. You’d think Tony moved to another planet for how she acts.”
“Mothers will be like that,” I slowly spin my coffee cup between my hands. Beckett must sense I’m about to ask a question so he stays quiet, waiting for me to continue. “You said you’re staying with your cousin and helping out with Clint…” there’s no good way to ask this, and it’s not like it really matters, but I’m curious. “Are you, um, are you working anywhere?”
When Beckett doesn’t answer right away, I drag my eyes up from the tabletop and find him grinning.
“What?” I ask, exasperated at his look.
“Smoky, are you asking if I have a job?”
The grin on his face makes me think that he must, but he still hasn’t answered the question.
I sit back in my chair, “It’s a fair question.”
“It is,” the fool is still grinning.
I cross my arms, “I just want to know if I should feel guilty about letting you pay for my coffee.”
My comment must catch him off guard because he lets out a bark of laughter.
“Because I can, you know, pay for my own stuff. Teachers might get paid shit, but I don’t need you to buy me things.”
His tone softens, “I know, Elouise.”
Elouise.
The syllables feel like satin on my skin.
My arms uncross and I lean forward, resting my hands on the tabletop.
Matching my movement, Beckett reaches across, placing his large palms over the backs of my hands. “I kinda love the fact that you don’t need me.” His thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of my wrist. “It means you’re here with me because you want to be.”
I raise one of my shoulders in a half shrug, “I’m caught up on my shows. And you aren’t terrible to look at.”
He narrows his eyes, “Cute.” His fingers encircle my wrists, holding my hands in place. “And to answer your question, yes, I’m gainfully employed. I actually moved back to Minnesota because of work. I was ready to be done with Chicago and the timing felt right.”
We kinda talked about this, back in my classroom, but I clearly needed this added reassurance that he’s back to stay. I don’t consider myself a fragile flower, but I can feel myself slipping under his spell already and I’m happy he won’t be disappearing.
“Is your work near here?”
He makes a noncommittal sound, “My main office is in Minneapolis, so not too far. We do property management, so unless I’m needed at a job site, I can usually work from wherever. The glory of laptops, virtual meetings and all that.”
I sigh. “Must be nice.”
He chuckles, “It is. Unfortunately for you, being a teacher is kind of an in-person career.”
“True. I can’t even imagine trying to teach a bunch of 9 and 10-year-olds online. But I do get summers off, so there’s that.”
Beckett’s eyes hold mine, “Sleeping in. Breakfast in bed. Afternoons lounging in the sun. I can picture it now.”
Darkness has settled outside, but I swear I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin as he speaks. Because in this image he’s painting, it sounds like he’s there with me. Like he’s already planning on it. Even though summer is months away.
Needing to touch him, like he’s touching me, I rotate my hands until they’re palm up.
