Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Mom, I asked him to wait until you were back to tell you.” Levi’s voice was brittle. Broken. And Sydney could kill Seth for doing this to him again.
She set her back to the wall alongside the bed, needing support while she summoned the right words. The last thing she wanted to do was lie to Levi, but she didn’t want him worrying about her. “How are you?” she asked instead. “You were at Grady’s when we talked this morning. What happened?”
Levi was quiet for a moment before murmuring, “I came home earlier than Dad expected.”
Oh, for the love of God, Seth. Did he catch you again? Her fingers curled into her palm at her side, and she took a slow, deep breath, fighting the desire to catch a plane and punch the man. “And that’s when they told you they’re getting married?”
More silence before a soft, “Yes. She had a ring on, and I noticed it.”
I don’t know what to say.
“I don’t want to live with them. She was . . . she was always Aunt Alice, and then she hurt you so bad, and I . . .”
“Levi,” she cried, tears gathering in her eyes, her voice breaking this time. “I wish I could fix this. You know I would if I could.”
“You can’t fix everything, Mom. I know you try, but some things just, well, they suck.” She heard him swear under his breath, and she had no intention of calling him on it. “This just sucks.” His voice nearly broke at that, and she knew he was fighting like hell to keep the tears at bay, to not show weakness.
Like me. “Hey,” she said while wiping at her cheek with her free hand, “we’re going to get through this. We’re Archers, right? We’re badasses.”
She heard the half-laugh through the phone. “You think I’m a badass too?”
“Hell yes.” She pushed away from the wall. “Stronger than me. So much stronger.” Her lip quivered as she resisted allowing more tears to flow. “We’ll get through this, okay? You and me. We’ve got this. It may feel like it’s us against the world sometimes, but I’d rather you in my corner than anyone else on the planet.” And shit, she was crying again, so she pulled the phone away from her face a bit to try and catch her breath.
Once she blinked away the rest of the tears, she brought the phone back to her ear as he said, “Mom?”
“Yeah, sweetie?” she whispered.
“You’re the only one I’d want in my corner too.” He was quiet before adding, “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you so much,” she cried.
“Promise me you won’t let this interfere with your job. I need you to come home safe.” Levi knew she was officially on work business in Mexico now. She’d promised her son that she’d never lie or sugarcoat things with her new job. When she’d revealed her trip was extended after Beckett and Oliver had first shown up that morning, she’d been honest with him. Well, as honest as she could without revealing too many details. He didn’t need to know about the cartel.
“I’ll promise as long as you promise to call me if you need me. No matter what.”
“Deal,” he answered. They exchanged a few more words before she ended the call as Mya knocked at her door.
Tossing her phone on the bed, she did her best to shake free her emotions before letting Mya in.
“First order of business, are you okay?” Mya cut straight to it. “And second, hot damn, woman, you look stunning.”
Sydney did what she did best—locked her emotions up in a steel cage and tried to change her mood to get through the night.
She swept her hands down her sides, turning this way and that like a showroom model, flaunting the gift that had been delivered to her room twenty minutes ago—a dress with instructions to wear it to dinner. She was exhausted and not in the mood to dress up, but she didn’t want to be rude and decline their host’s generosity.
And even though her mood was still off despite her best efforts to fake it, Sydney lightly laughed and complied when Mya twirled her finger, motioning for Sydney to spin.
The dress wasn’t anything she’d choose for herself, but it was beautiful. The dark blue skirt, decorated with panels of embroidered flowers, was set off by a bright orange sash around her waist, and embroidered flowers adorned the white off-the-shoulder peasant-style blouse. Sydney had let her light blonde hair air dry for a “beachy” look, and it fell in soft waves over her shoulders.
“Damn,” Mya repeated, her eyes bright.
“Back at ya.” Sydney smiled when Mya took her turn to spin, holding out the sides of her skirt. Their dresses were identical except for the color of the sash. Mya’s was red, the bold color fitting for her friend’s personality. Spirited. Sexy. Confident. Take charge.
Mya was able to win over everyone—from cartel thugs to New York suits—and in the process, had them confiding their deepest secrets, armed with only a defiant lift of her chin and a sharp gaze.
But she was also kind. Vulnerable. Sensitive. Willing to share her emotions, unlike Sydney.
They were both alike in some ways. And yet so, so different at the same time.
“Beckett’s going to lose his mind.” Mya’s words had Sydney playfully scowling.
“And Oliver?” Sydney teased. “Has he seen you in your dress?”
“Not yet. And he can pour on the flattery, but I refuse to forgive him for slapping a hand over my mouth and yanking me into that hole. Even if that was all your doing.” Mya’s smile had Sydney wanting to call bullshit on her supposed “animosity” for Oliver. “I still can’t believe this day happened. I mean, we went from relaxing on the beach to the bottom of a cenote to escape cartel shooters. And everything else since then.” Mya walked past her and sat on the bed.
Sydney lifted the skirt of her dress slightly before heading toward Mya.
“So, are you okay?” Mya repeated. “I swear, I could kill Alice. Well, not actually kill her like”—she made a fist and mimed stabbing a knife at her chest—“stabby-stabby. But you know, I’m just . . . pissed.”
Sydney let go of the skirt while shaking her head and smiled because only Mya’s cheeky sense of humor could lighten her up at a time like this.
She needed to stitch herself together after talking to Levi, and she had no desire to pull at a thread and find herself unraveled again. “I’m okay. You know me, I don’t care about Alice or Seth. Just Levi.”
Mya frowned. “When did the Seth-and-Alice thing start up again?”
“I don’t know. Levi saw them together a few weeks ago, but he didn’t say anything to me until the other day.” And then he saw them again today. “But Seth’s ill-timed and ‘important’”—Sydney made air quotes—“phone call makes me think Levi confessed the same news to Seth just today.” The achy sensation in her stomach returned. “Levi was so mad at Seth after the affair. It took him a long time to forgive his dad, and I just don’t know what this will do to him. Seth promised him that it’d been a mistake four years ago, and he’d never meant for anything to happen with Aunt Alice. Well, that’s how Levi referred to her back then.”
“He calls her the She-Devil now when he mentions her to me,” Mya said with raised eyebrows. “Levi is strong, and he’s older now. Plus, he has you.”
“Yeah, except I’m here working, and I should be there with him and?—”
“Stop.” Mya jumped up and gestured with her hands, calling up her Italian ancestry. “Levi loves the work you do. He admires you so much, and I don’t think you see that because Seth-the-fucktwat is always in your head.”
Mya’s spot-on assessment had chills crawling up Sydney’s spine, and it felt like she was wearing a corset that had been cinched too tight. Fuck, it hurt more than she cared to admit, but only because her pain was for her son.
“Levi just wants me to focus on being careful during this job.” She pointed to her phone on the bed. “We just talked. He’s doing his best to pull himself together, but I know if he thinks I’m falling apart, it’ll be harder on him.”
“You don’t fall apart. So, no worries there.” Grabbing hold of Sydney’s forearm, Mya continued in a softer tone. “But honestly, ever since you left your dad’s company, Levi has been happier. I think he saw how much you hated working at Archer, and he knew it wasn’t what you wanted. You know, he thinks of you like you’re a Marvel comic book hero in the flesh. He knows you’ll get through this new challenge, and he will too.”
Sydney set her free hand to her abdomen as a tingling sensation fluttered across her skin.
“Everything will be okay. I promise.” Mya lightly squeezed her arm. “I jumped into the . . . well, more like I was forced into that cenote today. And if I can do that, anything is possible.” She winked playfully, trying to lighten Sydney’s mood. Something few people could do. “Fate. The Universe. The Cosmos. Whatever you want to call it. Something bigger than us is going on right now, don’t you think?”
Sydney nodded, a bit spellbound by her friend’s new outlook on life. That book by Joe-something-or-other had really made an impact.
“Let’s look at the facts,” Mya said, sliding into journalist mode, and began counting by slapping her fingers against her open palm as she listed evidence to defend her stance. “I chose Tulum to meet with my Sinaloa contact.” Slap. “Beckett happened to trace his ex’s sister to Mexico, and she’s connected to the same cartel.” Another slap. “Then, while we were on the beach talking about that hot hunk of a cowboy sheriff, he shows up.” Slap, slap, slap.
Hot hunk of a cowboy sheriff? Sydney smirked as the image of Beckett wearing only a towel had her pulse pounding. And that hug. And the almost-kiss.
“And then, to top it off, this crew of vigilante hotties saves us. Their leader, Martín, happens to know your boss and owes him a favor. And it’s his mission to take down the same freaking cartel we’re after.” Mya opened her palms and lifted her chin to the ceiling as if she had a direct line straight to the Big Man in the sky. “Someone is pulling our strings, leading us on this path.”
“When you put it that way . . .”
Mya lowered her gaze to meet Sydney’s. “What if this is also fate’s way of bringing you and a certain someone together? Have you considered that?”
Before Sydney could respond, there was a knock at the door. “It’s us,” Beckett announced.
Mya waggled her brows as if to say, Mmhmm, and here that certain someone is now . “Shit.” She set a hand to her forehead. “My Botox is wearing off if I can do that.”
Sydney chuckled. “You’re too young for that,” she tossed out while starting for the door.
“Hey, it’s preventative. Just planning ahead.”
Sydney looked back and smiled before opening the door.
Beckett and Oliver stood on the porch, and it appeared Martín had provided them with new clothes as well. Unlike the traditional Mexican dresses she and Mya were wearing, they wore khaki linen pants, button-down shirts—Beckett in black and Oliver in blue—and loafers.
Sydney swallowed as her gaze connected with Beckett’s a moment later. They remained quietly studying each other, and it took Mya nudging Sydney in the back to “get a move on” for Sydney to budge.
“Hm. I guess you’re capable of cleaning up nicely,” Mya commented, joining Sydney on the porch. She had to assume Mya was teasing Oliver, but how could Sydney look anywhere other than at Beckett?
She freed herself from his eyes only to trail them down the column of his tan throat to where the top two buttons of his shirt were open.
“And did you even bother to shower?” Oliver jabbed. “Looks like you’ve still got some river mud on your neck there.”
Oliver reached toward Mya, then laughed when she swatted his arm away.
“I guess we should head to dinner,” Sydney forced out when her attention resettled on Beckett’s dark, incredibly piercing gaze.
“Right,” Mya said in a cheery tone, then stepped off the porch, leaving Oliver behind.
Sydney and Beckett stood locked in place, staring at each other as if a Disney fairy godmother had cast a spell over them.
What is wrong with me?
Beckett blinked and drew a hand over his sexy, scruff-covered jaw. “You’re . . .” He cleared his throat and brought that masculine hand around to the back of his neck. “Absolutely beautiful.” The sweet sincerity of his tone did nothing to overshadow the dark, hungry look in his eyes that said he wanted to make her his .
She smiled her thanks. “You look quite handsome yourself.” That was an understatement, and it was taking everything in her not to walk her fingers up the buttons of his shirt and free them one by one.
“Are you ready?” O r we can stay here staring at each other, knowing we have insane sexual chemistry we shouldn’t act on?
He nodded and offered her his hand. Ladies first . She’d grown used to and was okay with things like opening doors for herself. The days of genteel manners were long gone for the most part, and she’d forgotten what it was like to be treated like a lady. Beckett was proving to be a true Southern gentleman. A gentleman who could hopefully turn savage in the bedroom .
She joined Beckett on the trail, and they walked side by side, hanging ten or so feet back behind Oliver and Mya, who were arguing about sports. Of course. Why not? Only Mya.
“Football is big in Alabama, right?” Sydney asked Beckett, trying her hand at small talk.
He peeked over at her, an easy smile on his face. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Thought so.” She returned his smile before looking ahead. The sun hadn’t quite set, but the canopy of towering trees cocooning their path made it seem darker.
“And you grew up in . . .?” he asked.
“Born in Danbury, Connecticut. Bounced back and forth between Connecticut and New York City as a kid. I met Mya and . . .” Alice. She cringed at the thought. Levi and I will be okay, she reminded herself. “I met her in Manhattan. Our dads went to school together.”
“You don’t have a city accent,” he commented. “Not really.”
“I guess it’s because I traveled a lot growing up. Summers in Europe usually.” And stop there. She didn’t want to remind him she came from wealth. She wasn’t sure why it’d bother her if he thought of her as some snob. She was far from it. Hell, she barely owned any brand names, it wasn’t her thing. “LA didn’t erase your accent, I see.”
“Ha. Yeah, no, I guess there’s no getting rid of the Bama in me.”
“And you would probably never want to leave Alabama again?” Beckett’s steps slowed at her question, and she realized maybe it sounded as though she’d asked him, Would you leave your home for love?
“I, um.”
“You two okay back there?” Mya called out, turning to the side while still walking, preventing Beckett from having to answer.
“We’re good,” Sydney responded as Oliver snatched Mya’s elbow to keep her from falling when she tripped on her dress.
“They’re better than you.” Oliver chuckled as Mya faced forward.
“To answer your question,” Beckett began a moment later, “I don’t know.”
Sydney kept her focus on the path ahead, unsure if she could look at him right now without tripping. Physically falling. Mentally too, maybe. “Oh.”
“So.” That one word from Beckett filled the bit of quiet between them after she’d dropped that uncomfortable “oh” into the night air. “You, uh, went to West Point. How was that?”
Quick subject change. And a conversation she wasn’t quite sure how to navigate either. “It was okay, I guess. I owed the Army five years after I graduated, but technically I only served four.” She had no intention of going into the hows and whys, at least not tonight.
“And Gray?”
Ohhh. That’s where you want to take this? “He was in his last year there when we met. Pretty sure he proposed because of pre-deployment jitters.”
“He proposed ?”