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Beckett was featuring in just about all my fantasies lately, but that bark wasn’t going to get me there. He could be bossy, it was true, but what really got me were the decadent, needy sounds he’d made when I’d touched him in that hotel room.
“Fuck off!” he called, clearly not willing to play.
Probably for the best, since he was determined to forget Vegas. I should be following his example, but I was bad at resisting things I enjoyed, and I’d enjoyed Beck.
I finished myself off perfunctorily, the orgasm not even slightly satisfying, then got out of the shower and flung open the door, water still coursing down my naked body.
Beckett shoved a coffee cup at me. “We have five minutes.”
I lifted it to my mouth and took a gulp while Beckett took off down the hall. He hadn’t even paused to gaze at my chest longingly today. Shit really was getting back to normal.
Problem was, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be.
Saying you’d leave something in Vegas was easier than actually leaving it, especially if you still wanted the damn thing. I wasn’t sure how to put my craving for Beckett back in the box. But it was too early to figure it out now, so I gulped my coffee and grabbed a towel to dry off.
Beckett was waiting outside, coppery hair shining in the sun, when I finally emerged dressed for work. Like me, he wore jeans and a light green Potter Landscaping T-shirt. Unlike me, he looked fucking put together, almost too sophisticated to be someone who played in the dirt all day. But there was no denying he loved it just as much as I did.
We swung by the Potter Landscaping office to check in with Dad and see if there were any new jobs to work into the schedule, then headed out to Beaver Hole. In the three days since we’d started, we’d finished clearing trees and brush. As the lead contractors on the job, we’d be overseeing the entire project, which meant coordinating with subcontractors who’d be installing a gazebo, covered picnic areas, and a playground for the kiddies.
Lots more big equipment, but I wouldn’t get to personally play with most of it, which wasn’t as much fun.
“You want to oversee the site today?” I asked. “I’ll take a crew out to cover the residential schedule.”
“Nah, Dad expects you to be here. This is no time to rock the boat.”
“Everything’s been going fine,” I protested. “We’re three days in and it’s been smooth sailing.”
“Right, so let’s not rock the boat,” he said, insistent.
“Whatever you want, bro,” I said. But as he walked away, I couldn’t resist adding, “But it’s more fun when the boat is rocking!”
Beckett spun around, calling out, “That’s what gets you into trouble! Be good.”
Logan, a new guy who was hired on as temporary seasonal help so we could cover this park project, gave a low chuckle. “I thought you were the boss?”
I turned a smirk his way. “I’m your boss, so get to work.”
“Maybe I should ask Beckett first,” he snarked.
I flipped him the bird. “I’ll rock your boat, if you don’t watch it.”
“Promises, promises,” he said, eyes dancing.
I did a double-take, caught off-guard. He wasn’t…flirting, was he?
Before I could decide how to react—Was I flattered that a dude thought I was hot? Kinda. Was I annoyed that one of my crew members was flirting instead of working? Probably should be—Ryder called out with a question about the placement of the picnic area in relation to the large trees we were working around in the already developed portion of the park.
I sent Logan on his way and got to work, and before I knew it the sun was high in the sky, and I’d sweated through my T-shirt.
I called a lunch break and decided to walk over to The Stag Pub. Some of the guys brought their lunch, but in the hottest months we all needed an air-conditioned break anyway. When I got there, I spotted Beckett already at a table with Colton and Luke.
I walked up. “Hey, small world. Mind if I join you?”
Beckett scooted over on the booth bench seat, making room for me to drop down next to him. Everyone at the table had been working out in the sun, but somehow I could identify the scent of Beckett over everyone else. His skin was still dewy with sweat, giving him a glow that was a little too appealing. I kept sneaking looks at him, unable to help myself.
This was a man I’d known most of my life, one who I’d called my brother and best friend for years. There should be nothing new to see, nothing to keep drawing my gaze back, but it was as if he were a magnet pulling me in.
He wasn’t the same old Beckett, he was something new and exciting, even if he shouldn’t be.
