Chapter 8
BECKHAM
The moment I shifted my truck into park in my driveway, my phone buzzed.
Then buzzed again. And again. I grabbed it off the passenger seat, watching as multiple texts filtered in, one after another.
I scrolled to the bottom, holding my thumb on the screen so it’d stop moving as I tried to read the first text from Wyatt.
Wyatt: Incoming
Immediately after his text, our family group chat began to blow up.
Lettie: When were you going to tell us Parker was in town?
Lennon: You guys can’t say I’m the closed-off one now
Lettie: That’s Reed
Reed: Don’t bring me into this
Callan: Wait, Parker is in town?
Brandy: You already brought yourself into this, Reed *fist emoji*
Oakley: Who’s Parker?
Sage: I’m wondering the same thing
I ran a hand down my face, seriously debating turning off my cell. Instead, I decided to tackle that issue later. The dark gray clouds looming in the evening sky told me I had minutes to get these things inside before rain would begin coming down in buckets.
I got out of the truck and shoved my still-buzzing phone in my pocket before closing my door and opening the back one.
While balancing five boxes of various granola bar flavors in the crook of my arm, I folded a massive pillow in half and tucked it under the other elbow in order to loop my hand through the grocery bags.
My hip bumped the door to close it before I made my way up the steps of my porch.
The boxes threatened to topple to the ground as I shifted to grab my house key.
Somehow, none of them managed to fall as I unlocked the door and twisted the handle, pushing my way inside.
Once I was in, I kicked it shut and crossed to the counter to set everything down.
With my hands on my hips, I heaved a breath, surveying the damage done today.
Not a single thing on my list had been for myself, and for a split second, I thought I’d gone overboard. That once Parker saw what I did today, she’d think I was overstepping and run off.
With a shake of my head, I forced those thoughts aside.
Bell Buckle didn’t have major shopping centers, so I’d called off work today to go on a small road trip to the only place I could find that carried pregnancy pillows.
While I was there, I’d grabbed whatever else I didn’t think Bell Buckle had—and then things they most definitely had, but I wanted to get today, anyway.
Fancy granola bars for the mornings when she felt nauseous before eating, prenatal vitamins in case she didn’t have any or needed to stock up, lotions, bubble bath, eye patches.
Really, I didn’t know what she wanted or needed, and now that I was thinking about it again, I’d definitely gone overboard. I was practically setting her up for a spa day.
A flash of light had my gaze moving from the counter to the living room where the TV was on, but the volume was so low, I could barely hear it. Leaving the items in disarray, I crossed to the couch to find a sleeping Parker with her legs curled up and her head on the armrest.
I frowned at her bare arms and feet. Despite the heat being on, it was still less than comfortable to sleep without a blanket. Reaching for the throw draped over the back of the couch, I gently laid it over her, making sure it covered her toes.
I should’ve left it at that, but before I could help myself, I crouched to get a better look at her.
Her calm presence warmed something in my chest, and while I’d known what missing her felt like, having her here in front of me was almost more painful.
Because if she was back, there was a high probability of her disappearing again.
Carefully, I moved a stray curl off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. Her breathing shallowed out for a moment before her eyes flicked open.
“Beckham?” Her face scrunched before she glanced at the window behind me. “What time is it?”
“Five. You fell asleep watching TV.”
Her focus moved to the TV before she rubbed her eyes and propped herself up on an elbow. The movement made the blanket fall down her arm, and she grabbed the edge, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “You put a blanket on me?”
“You looked cold.”
Something in her expression melted away, replacing itself with a look I couldn’t quite place. “Thank you.”
I dipped my chin and forced myself to stand. I was too close to her. So close that I could reach out and cup her cheek. Or take her hand in mine. Both seemed wildly inappropriate and right all at the same time.
“I got you some things,” I said as I walked back to the kitchen. Behind me, the colorful hue from the TV disappeared, indicating she’d turned it off.
I turned around at the counter to find her making her way over.
“What’s all this?” she asked as she surveyed the mountain of items.
I opened my mouth to list everything off, but snapped it shut when I remembered she could see what it all was easily. She meant why. Why did I get my childhood love all these items to make her more comfortable in her pregnancy?
That was a question even I couldn’t answer.
“I figured you might want a pregnancy pillow—” I began.
“You know what a pregnancy pillow is?”
I lifted my focus from the items to find her shocked expression on me.
“Well, I didn’t until Sage informed me on some pregnancy…stuff.”
She crooked a brow, stifling her smile.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. That’s just… That’s cute you asked her.”
My cheeks heated, and I didn’t miss how her eyes fell to the blush. I quickly cleared my throat and moved to the fridge, rifling around to grab makings for dinner.
Instead of acknowledging her calling what I did cute, I said, “I also made you a key.”
“For your house?” A hint of surprise laced her tone.
I set the various ingredients beside the stove before pulling out seasonings for the chicken. “Yes, for the house.”
She moved behind me toward the fridge. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“How do you expect to get in if I’m not home?”
The door to the fridge closed, and the telltale crack of a soda can tab sounded. “I mean, I could have gone and had it made myself.”
I waved her off before spinning around to grab the buffalo sauce from the fridge. Instead of seeing the plain white exterior of my refrigerator, I came face-to-face with Parker. Our eyes held for a moment before I broke the stare.
“I’ll have to buy more of those to feed your habit.”
She cradled the can, smiling. “I’m trying not to have as many with the pregnancy, but I just can’t help myself sometimes. I like a little treat.”
I crossed my arms and leaned a hip against the counter, forgetting the dinner while distracted by her. “And today is celebration enough for a treat, huh?”
Her grin widened as she tucked stray curls behind her ears. “Wyatt is letting me work at the shop.”
“On cars?” Parker could do an oil change, sure, but she wasn’t very savvy with the rest. At least, she didn’t use to be. I supposed a lot could change in the span of ten years.
A breathless laugh escaped her. “Gosh, no. I’d somehow break them worse than when they came in. He’s letting me do the office stuff.”
Okay, so she wouldn’t have too much extreme labor to deal with while carrying her baby. That made me feel better. “That was nice of him.”
She took a sip of her soda. “I’d ask where you were when you said you were going to the shop today, but all of this is explanation enough.” Her eyes darted to the items still in disarray.
I shoved off the counter, crossing to the fridge in a second attempt to grab the buffalo sauce. I’d be happy to get nothing done if it meant I could stare at her all night, but that would mean she wouldn’t have dinner, and a starving Parker was not my goal here.
In three strides, I was directly in front of her. She blinked up at me, frozen in place. Only the can of Dr. Pepper separated us, and I nearly wanted to tear it from her grasp and toss it in the sink to get even an inch closer.
It’d take nothing to lower my lips to hers and refresh my tongue with the taste of her. Nothing to set my hands on her waist and feel her. To breathe the same oxygen as her. To back her into the wall and go back to old ways.
But nothing was too much. Nothing held so much weight; it was nearly crushing. It’d take nothing, and yet, it’d change everything.
Her lips parted as she tilted her head back. Was she thinking the same thoughts I was? Imagining being back in my arms? But that was silly to think—no matter how much we dreamed, it never led us to the same place. Our splitting ways for ten years was proof of that.
My body leaned forward the slightest, like she was my center of gravity and I couldn’t resist the pull.
I might’ve imagined it, but her breath seemed to hitch.
My eyes caught on her mouth, on her pretty pink lips and that faint freckle right above the corner that I loved so much.
One inhale and I could smell her. Vanilla with a hint of almond.
I knew that because I’d studied her for so many years that even her scent had been ingrained in my being.
I never knew if it came down to her shampoo or the deodorant she used or maybe the perfume she spritzed, but whatever it was, I’d missed it.
And awakening that part of my senses nearly choked me.
“I have to grab the buffalo sauce,” I forced out, my voice pitched so low I barely recognized it.
She blinked out of her haze, seemingly as stuck in the bubble that was us as I was. “Right.”
She took a small step to the side, and I reached around her to open the fridge. Her shoulder brushed my chest, the small kitchen not leaving much room for movement. Every nerve in my body went on red alert, a live wire igniting the skin beneath my shirt.
My hand wrapped around the neck of the glass before pulling the bottle out and shutting the door. When I stepped back, I looked down at her to find her features pinched, like she’d become aware of our point of contact as much as I had.