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A group of women having lunch wave excitedly to Beck, urging him to come over. I enjoy a little too much the way they deflate as he shakes his head with a polite smile and keeps walking.
We take seats out on the deck and I gaze out at the gently rolling mountains, a pale purple in the early afternoon haze. “While your organizational skills blow, I’ve got to say this view is pretty impressive.”
He grunts, glancing out, seeing nothing. Beck and Caleb both inherited a business from a dying parent instead of pursuing their own dreams. It worked out okay for Caleb. I’m not sure that’s the case for Beck.
A waitress swings by, we both order the steak, and then I turn toward him again. “If you hate everything about owning a bar, why are you doing it?”
He hitches a shoulder. “It’s been in my mom’s family for two generations. What am I gonna do? Let some asshole turn it into a McDonald’s?”
“I would.” I guess that’s easy for me to say, though. I don’t have a single blood relative I can even remember.
“It would be like I was slapping my mom in the face if I sold this place.” He shakes his head and for the briefest moment, I see that the loss of her is still hard for him, all these years later. “It was just the two of us, my entire life, and that changes things. She jumped through crazy hoops to make sure she was with me every afternoon and she’d drop everything the minute I walked in. She’d close the bar entirely if I was sick and there was no one to manage it. This was her gift to me. I can’t just fucking give it away.”
Of course she did those things. I only had Hannah for a matter of minutes, but I’d have given her everything. Which is how I know he’s wrong.
“Beck, she gave you the bar because it was all she had to give. You say she loved you so much that she’d just close the bar entirely if you were sick? Then she’d burn this place to the ground before she’d let it hold you back. Don’t confuse the gift with the impulse behind it.”
“I can’t,” he says stonily.
“Well, if you refuse to change careers, maybe you just need to find fulfillment in something else.”
He smirks. “You saying I should settle down?”
I laugh. Ever since I’ve known him, Beck has been someone without roots. No relationships; no permanence. “Fat chance. You’re never with any female for more than five minutes.”
“I lastwaylonger than five minutes.”
I grin. “Sure, that’s what they all say.”
He looks at me for a long moment. He doesn’t speak and he doesn’t need to—it’s written all over his face:He’d last way longer than five minutes.
I gulp my water, waiting for this sharp burst of want to dissipate. Even the most happily married woman in the world has a hall pass list—the handful of men she’d sleep with if she could. My husband’s best friend just happens, inconveniently, to be at the top of mine.
Our steaks are delivered, and the smell alone has my mouth watering. My eyes fall closed as I pop the first bite in my mouth—it’s the closest thing to ecstasy I’ve felt in a long time. “Mmmm, Beck,” I say as I swallow. “I haven’t had a good steak in ages.”
I open my eyes. His gaze is on my face while he runs a thumb over his lower lip. “Do you always moan like that over a piece of meat?”
I laugh. “Goodmeat, sure.”
“Maybe you’ve been barking up the wrong tree in finance,” he mutters, sawing at his steak with unnecessary force. “OnlyFans might have something for you. In the meantime, try moaning a little less while you eat.”
I hide my smile.
Maybe I’m on Beck’s hall pass list too.
15
KATE
The next few days in Beck’s office go much like the first. The work is tedious and definitely not what I went to grad school for, but it’s good to use my brain again, and it’s good to do something for Beck, who never allows anyone to help him.
I force him to buy a new laptop and get him set up with an online accounting program, something his future bookkeeper will require anyway.
“I can only submit amended returns for the past three years, by the way,” I tell him as I navigate to the correct page. “You might want to double up your workouts so you can defend yourself in prison just in case.”
He raises a brow. “I’m pretty sure I can already defend myself in prison. Youarejoking, right?”
“You’re not going to prison.” He’ll be very lucky if I can find enough deductions that he doesn’t get slaughtered in back taxes and penalties, but I’ll save that news for later. “I just wish you hadn’t let it all go for so long.”
