Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Daisy
When we get home, Beckett takes my hand and leads me up the stairs.
In his bedroom, he undresses me, his calloused hands caressing my skin as he slides the clothes off my body until I’m standing naked before him in the blue moonlight.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. Gently. Reverently. Like I’m something precious to him.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice low and husky as he worships my body with his expert mouth, branding my skin with his lips.
Naked, he kisses his way up my body and settles between my thighs. My legs wrap around his waist and I grab the back of his head, pulling him down to me for a kiss as he enters me in one powerful thrust.
My back arches off the mattress and I rise up, meeting him thrust for thrust, our lips still fused in a kiss.
This doesn’t feel like fucking. It feels like something completely different.
Something more.
“God. You feel so good,” he says, pulling back to look at my face.
“Maybe you should keep me.” It was meant to sound lighthearted, more jokey, but it came out sounding the opposite.
“Maybe I should,” he says, thrusting harder and faster as I clench around him, chasing the high, those few moments of bliss when all the edges get fuzzy and the world ceases to exist.
It comes in waves, each one building until light shatters behind my lids and I cry out, my heels digging into his back and my nails biting into his shoulders and he spills inside me.
It’s so good and so beautiful that I’m on the verge of tears.
I don’t want this to end. Not next week. Not ever.
Afterward, I roll onto my side and place my hand over his heart and I wonder how anyone can say that sex is just sex.
With Beckett, it feels like so much more.
Everything feels like more. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.
Like a part of me might die if I have to say goodbye.
Those three little words almost tumble from my lips. I want to say it. I want to tell him.
But at the same time, I know it would be a mistake, and I know he’ll never say them back.
So I bite my tongue and I kiss his neck and breathe him in.
His arm curls around my body and he pulls me closer and I wonder if he’s feeling all the same things I am.
Love is such a funny thing. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
I didn’t come here looking for it, but it was almost inevitable that I would do the one thing Beckett warned me not to. Fall in love with him.
I wonder what he would do if I told him? No doubt he would run for the hills.
How sad that so many beautiful words are often left unsaid.
“We made it through alive and in one piece, and bonus points, you didn’t burn down the castle,” I say on Thursday morning as we walk back to the house from the winery.
“Told you Zelda was a fraud.”
“Time will tell. We still have another week.”
“How about we spend it in San Francisco?”
I can’t picture him anywhere but here so I’m curious to see what his life in San Francisco looks like. “And what would we do in San Francisco for a week? Would you amp up your efforts to woo me?” I tease. “Because, quite frankly, you haven’t put much effort into it this week.”
Probably because I’ve been trying to convince him to keep the vineyard, and he’s tired of hearing it.
Although, we went to the beach on Sunday and afterward we ate fresh seafood at a restaurant overlooking the ocean. He even let me take photos of him. So we’re making progress.
“That just goes to show how observant you are,” he says. “Last night, I prepared dinner for you. Another fantasy fulfilled.”
I snort. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the ready-made meals you popped in the microwave. Meals you neither prepared nor cooked. Therefore, it doesn’t count.”
He slings an arm around my shoulders and steers me through the orchards. “It counts.”
I smile up at my childhood crush. He seems so much more relaxed now than he did a few months ago. I still can’t help but think that this lifestyle suits him.
He tips his chin. “What’s that smile for?”
You. “So tell me what we’ll do in San Francisco. Are there Michelin-starred dinners in my future?”
“I’m surprised Zelda didn’t mention that,” he says. “How do you feel about football?”
“I’m not sure I have any feelings about it whatsoever.”
“That’ll change when I take you to the game on Sunday. You’ll probably be screaming and cheering louder than anyone in the stadium.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” It also sounds like a date—the kind of date guys take their girlfriends on when they want to introduce them to something they love. “You can count on me. I won’t let you down.”
His muscles tense, and he goes so rigid, I look up at him. “Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?” I joke.
But I don’t even think he hears me. His jaw clenches, and he drops his arm to his side.
I follow his gaze to the terrace and freeze.
No. No way . My eyes must be deceiving me.
Maybe it’s just someone who looks like her.
Because there is no way that my mother could be here. In Sutton Ridge. Lounging on the terrace just as if it hasn’t been eight years since I last set eyes on her.
What if …oh God. My stomach twists into knots and I feel like I’m going to vomit.
My mother would never come here just to see me, but she’d certainly show up if she thought there was money involved.
What if she found out that Robert bequeathed half of everything to me?
Panic grips me and claws its way up my throat.
I need Beckett to know that I was telling the truth and have had no contact with my mother in years.
I move in front of him, trying to block his view, and grab his arms. “I don’t know what she’s doing here. I swear on my life that we weren’t in on this together. I had nothing to do with this. But I’ll get rid of her. I’ll?—”
“That won’t be necessary,” he says, his tone clipped, eyes narrowed on my mother. “I’ll deal with this.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a little squeeze. “Why don’t you go back to the winery and hang out with Callie? You can sit this one out.”
My jaw drops.
Sit this one out? Is he crazy?
I need to take care of this.