Page 68 of Heartsmashed
Beckett handed me a plate with one of everything from the snack table, and then gave one to Rome.
Rome practically purred as he looked down at it. “And he feeds us? Sawyer, marry him.”
I nearly choked on the mini quiche I’d popped into my mouth.
“What? Too soon?”
“Think you’re missing a few beats, yeah. And maybe screws in your head.”
Beckett’s eyes caught mine. “So there’s a checklist?”
“Oh, there’s absolutely a checklist,” Rome said, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. “I’ll send it to you. The first two are ‘survive the family’ and ‘don’t be a Peter.’”
“We keep the bar low,” I told Beckett, who leaned back against the railing beside me, close enough that his arm brushed mine.
He nodded slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
For a moment, the three of us stood there in the cold, the noise inside muffled behind the glass, Rome and I munching on the snacks Beckett had brought. No one said anything, yet it felt so completely normal, like we’d done it a thousand times.
I stole a glance at Beckett, watching the way the wind blew his hair wild. He was so damn good looking. I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky by coming across his listing out of the many out there, but I was glad that fate or whatever it was had sent him my way. Even if it was only for a little while.
Like he felt me watching him, he turned, catching my gaze, and I blushed. It was impossible not to with the intensity of his eye contact.
“Right, well.” Rome pushed off the railing. “I’ve done my brotherly duty, eaten your snacks, and blessed this union with my face, so I’ll leave you to it.” He stopped at the door and glanced at Beckett over his shoulder. “Take care of him, Tracksuit.”
“I will.”
He slipped back inside, sliding the door closed behind him, and then it was just me and Beckett. Without a human buffer, that connection between us was even more apparent, a physical thing I could feel along my skin.
Beckett didn’t say anything right away, just stole a chip off my plate and let the silence exist without trying to fill it. Hell, I didn’t know how he did that, not when I was a professional silence-filler. I’d made a whole career out of talking too much, but Beckett wasn’t that way at all. And, weirdly enough, I was starting to feel like I didn’t have to ramble on about anything and everything just because.
I held my plate out to him, and he grabbed a pinwheel, while I made a cheese-and-cracker sandwich.
“Rome likes you,” I said, and took a bite.
Beckett’s mouth curved on one side, and he shook his head. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”
“Despite anything you’ve heard, he actually does have good taste, and he never says anything he doesn’t mean.” I frowned. “Just don’t tell him I said that.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“For the record, neither do I.”
I looked up, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I’m getting that.”
A gust of wind at my back cut through the thin layers I’d worn, and before I could pretend I wasn’t freezing, Beckett shifted closer. He was so warm, like his body ran ten degrees hotter than anyone else’s, warming me instantly.
“You got quiet in there,” he said. “I won’t pretend I don’t know why.”
“I don’t want him back.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
He nodded, his gaze roving over my face. “You look at him like he hurt you. Not like you want him.”
My lips parted. He’d nailed it. That was exactly what I hadn’t been able to say as eloquently as he had, and all I could do was nod.
