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I settle in the seat, telling myself this will be okay.
Only until I see Beck walking up to me.
God, I forgot how dangerously attractive he is in person. He steals the air from my lungs. A few strands of gray weave into locks of his chestnut hair. He has a trimmed beard, with just a hint of gray in it, and my fingers tingle to touch it. When we were together, he shaved constantly. Now, he’s rocking this look.
Heat flutters in my stomach. The white linen shirt he’s wearing emphasizes how big and broad he is.
“Hey baby,” he says nonchalantly, like we haven’t seen each other in forever. He walks up to me without disconnecting our gaze, and each step he takes my way increases my heart rate. Oh, his gorgeous forest green eyes hold me hostage. I tell myself to control, an internal mantra to show poise and match his cool confidence, but fuck, it’s nearly impossible.
“Hi.” I can smell his scent—a welcoming mix of cedar wood and amber notes, with a dash of ginger. I could recognize his fragrance blindfolded, in a room full of tens of people.
My stomach lurches, and he brushes his lips on my cheek. And my world comes crashing down.
3
Beck
“Did you have a good flight?”I ask in a low voice.
“Yes,” Eliza says.
The chatter resumes around us, or maybe it never stopped and I just tuned it out the instant I saw her. Thebeatof my heart iserratic,anddesireiscoursing through mybody.I want to give her a proper kiss, to slam her against the wall and taste her pussy, but Ican’tacton my urge. Not now, anyway. Now I have pretend to be a husband who’s seen her earlier in Dallas. Not as the last man she probably wants to see in person. Seeing her right now…
A flutter of anticipation rushes through me. I’d love to see more of her, even though I know I shouldn’t count on it. She’s mad at me, disappointed, and rightfully so. I failed her as a husband. Now it’s up to me to make it up to her. Will I even have the chance to, though? That window is about to close, and unless I rush and slip through the cracks, my opportunity will be over. “Thanks for doing this,” I say in a tone only she can hear.
“No problem,” she says, and looks away from me. “Glad to help, as long as you remember the deal.”
The deal. My heart chills in my chest. A ticking time bomb expands inside me.
“We’re so happy all of us are here,” Uncle John says, interrupting my thoughts. “What do we have planned for the weekend?”
“Oh, y’all get ready,” Jessie starts. “Tomorrow we’re going on a fabulous boat ride, then after…” she continues, and once again the voices fall in the background and I study Eliza. God, she’s fucking hot in this white top and pants that complements her wavy, reddish-brown hair. It’s longer now, the sultry strands falling past her shoulders. Fuck, I need to curl a strand around my finger, pull her closer, and—
“How do you like your suite, Eliza?” Lillian asks.
“I haven’t seen it yet,” she says, a kind twinkle in her hazel eyes. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“Oh, you just wait. The bathroom has a gorgeous tub with an all-glass wall facing the ocean,” Lillian says, excitement dripping from her voice. “It’s a dream.”
“The perfect setting for some baby making,” Mimi says, winking in our direction.
Eliza grabs a flute of champagne that the waiter just handed her and drains the contents from it.
“Let’s focus on your birthday first,” I say, hoping to gently steer the subject away from babies. We never told our families that Eliza was pregnant, because we waited until the first trimester, and we just never made it that far. Then, she asked me not to share it, and I acquiesced.
“Why not do two things at once? I’m not a spring chicken, you know, and you two would make such beautiful babies.”
“They would,” Jessie agrees, then claps her hands together. “Now, I’m famished. When is dinner going to be served, I wonder. Anyone else hungry?”
I mouth athank youto my sister, who does a better job at catching the drift than Mimi. I can’t be mad at Mimi because she doesn’t know better, neither will I raise her blood pressure by telling her the truth about the status of our relationship tonight. This weekend is about her.
I steal a glance Eliza’s way, and the touch of sadness flashing in her eyes makes my gut clench. Fuck, she’s hurt. And I can’t do a thing about it… just like when we lost the baby. A chilly sensation spreads through me, darkening the mood.
I reach for her hand, in a silent attempt of comforting her, and give it a little squeeze. The contact alone lessens the weight in my chest, replacing it with a much warmer, brighter emotion. Ah, I’ve missed touching her.
I’ve missed her.
She gives me a look… then disengages her delicate hand from mine.
