Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EVERLY
I wasn’t sure there was a cuter town in the world than Starlight Cove. It was so picturesque—when I’d first moved here, I’d asked the mayor if the Hallmark Channel had ever used the downtown area because it looked like it was straight out of a movie.
All along Main Street, flowers overflowed from the large baskets that hung from each of the black streetlamps.
This section of town was closed off by blockades on Saturday mornings to stop traffic from interfering with the market.
Though they probably wouldn’t have needed any since nearly all of Starlight Cove attended this every week.
The street was packed with people browsing, several walking their dogs, which meant if Chuckanut wasn’t trying to make friends, I was.
Each time I squatted down to introduce myself to a new dog or reacquaint myself with one I already knew, I’d smile up at Beck to find him staring down at me, his lips quirked at the side.
Finally, knowing we were on a time crunch, I stood, guiding Chuckanut through the market. “Okay, no more doggie time or we’re never going to get through all of this. It’s so much bigger than I thought it was going to be!”
Beck glanced over at me, a brow raised.
I rolled my eyes and swatted his stomach. “Don’t be a pervert.”
“I don’t know how you expect me to be anything else when you basically said that same thing the first time you saw my dick.”
“Well, it was intimidating. You try being my size and facing a one-eyed Pringles can monster.”
Beck inhaled sharply, which threw him into a coughing fit. Good. It served him right.
I patted him on the back, not even trying to tamp back my grin. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he croaked with a nod.
I hooked my arm back through his as we strolled, holding Chuckanut’s leash with my other hand. “Seriously, though, I thought it would just be a couple booths with some produce. I didn’t think it would be all of this.”
There had to be fifty tents stretched along either side of Main Street, containing all manner of goods, from fresh fruits and vegetables to homemade taffy and jam to candles and lotions and various other products. It was a cornucopia of Starlight Cove’s offerings.
“It didn’t use to be this big,” Beck said.
“No? What was it like?”
“When my mom first started it, it was just a handful of people.”
“Your mom started this?” I asked, soaking up any bit of information I could about his family or his past. Even after two years of being friends with him, I was still uncovering parts of him. But that was Beck for you, and I had a feeling I would still be peeling away layers in another two years.
I didn’t mind, though. I loved each time he revealed a little bit more of himself because it was confirmation of our bond deepening.
“Yeah, that was my mom in a nutshell,” he said. “When she saw a need, she filled it. She needed ingredients for the diner, and the people around Starlight Cove needed a way to sell their excess food. This was one of the things I helped her with.”
That was very apparent, as we couldn’t go more than five feet without someone calling out for Beck or waving as we passed by. He never stopped to chat—that absolutely wasn’t him—but no one seemed to mind. They still offered him a smile and a wave as we made our way through the market.
Usually, he was the quiet, introspective one out of the pair of us, but this time, I watched, loving that I was able to witness him in his element. He went from stand to stand, scrutinizing every ingredient as if he were a judge on a cooking show, his eyes hard and assessing.
After the fifth stop without him buying anything, I finally said, “So are we just window-shopping, or…?”
The side of his mouth kicked up, and he glanced down at me. “I want to see everything that’s available first. Then I’ll plan the menu and buy what I need.”
I froze, pulling us to a stop in the middle of the street. “Wait a minute. You plan it here?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Yes?” he said, though it came out like a question.
“Whoa. I thought…well, I assumed you had it already planned before you came and were just, like, grocery shopping.”
“Can’t plan the menu until I know whether the tomatoes or asparagus or berries are going to be shit this week or if they’ve got a good crop.”
“Right. Nobody likes shitberries. They taste nothing like their cousin, strawberries.”
He glanced over at me, the barest hint of a smile tugging on his lips, and shrugged. Like it was no big deal. When in reality, it was blowing my mind.
“You’re out here, making full menus to feed who knows how many people, and I can barely make a box of mac and cheese.”
“That would explain why you never have any goddamn food in your house.”
I laughed and started us along the path again, guiding Chuckanut ahead of us. “Why would I when my best friend—now boyfriend—is an amazing chef?”
Beck’s eyes flared hot as he glanced over at me, and it took me a minute to figure out what I’d said.
When I did, I bit my lip, wondering if I’d overstepped.
If I’d read the situation wrong. Were we just friends with benefits?
We hadn’t had that discussion yet, but it felt like a whole lot more than that to me.
Finally, he asked, “Is that what I am?”
I swallowed down my apprehension and uneasiness and played it off. “An amazing chef? Obviously.” Before he could say anything else, I squeezed his arm. “You’re kind of amazing all around, you know that?”
If I hadn’t been looking at him, I would have missed the tips of his ears turning the barest shade of pink.
My grin widened, all my previous uneasiness gone. “I can’t believe all the dirty, filthy things you’ve said to me, and this is what embarrasses you?”
“If you don’t watch yourself, I’m going to take you behind one of those stands, hike up that flirty little skirt, and say more of those things while I fuck you.
” He shot me a heated gaze, all traces of his embarrassment gone.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice Chapter Fifteen in Forbidden Temptations flagged. ”
This time, I was the one blushing, no doubt looking like I was walking around with two lipstick smears on my cheeks with how hot my face felt.
“Beck, there you are! Come here for a second, will you?” Mabel waved from her booth, effectively cooling the tension between Beck and me. Her husband, George, sat beside her, hands folded over his round belly and his head tipped back as loud snores poured from his open mouth.
“Mabel has a booth?” I whispered. “What does she—”
“If you value your sanity, you won’t ask.”
She didn’t have anything on display—just a large banner with a graphic of a finger in front of a pair of red lips, like they were shushing everyone. What kind of secret society nonsense was this?
When we made it to her, he just raised a brow. “Yes, Mabel?”
“Well, I was thinking about that deal we made, and I was wondering if—”
“No.”
She huffed. “But you don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”
“Still no. A deal’s a deal.”
“Wait, what deal?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Beck said at the same time Mabel blew a raspberry and said, “Before he’d give me back my phone, he demanded that I never speak to you again.”
Beck scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, Mabel. I told you not to ask her specifically about the fire. That’s it. You’re not even recording right now. Why do you feel the need to embellish absolutely everything?”
She sniffed, tipping her face up, her nose in the air. “It’s the journalist in me.”
“You’re not a journalist. You’re a busybody.”
“I’ll have you know, I—”
Beck and Mabel continued squabbling, but I couldn’t find any words, my heart too full over what he’d done for me.
I hadn’t asked him to, hadn’t said a word about not wanting to share that pain with anyone but him, but still, he’d known.
Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. Beck had shown time and again that if something would make me happy and he had the power to take care of it, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me.
Even more amazing was that I rarely even had to ask.
“Are we done here?” Beck asked, though he did so in a way that didn’t leave much room for argument.
Mabel huffed. “Fine. We’re done.”
“Great, let’s go.”
“Wait!” I said, tightening my arm through his before he could walk away. “What do you sell?”
Beck exhaled a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why’d you do that?”
Mabel completely ignored Beck as her face brightened. She reached under a tablecloth and pulled out two huge baskets overflowing with bottles of what looked like—
“Lube!” she said, loud enough that the vendors across the street probably heard.
“The fuddy-duddies on the town council don’t think it’s ‘appropriate’ for me to have these on display because it’s a ‘family-friendly’ event.
How the hell do they think we got all these families in the first place?
That’s what I want to know.” She set the baskets on the table with a flourish.
“Anyway, we compromised. I’m still allowed to rent a booth, but I can’t show the products unless someone comes up and asks.
And if you’re interested in the toys, you have to book a party. ”
“The toys?”
“Oh yes! You know, lots of men are intimidated by a woman using adult toys to reach her pleasure, but they should really be looking at them as more of a partner. Some of my top sellers can be used on the clitoris during pene—”
“Oh, look,” Beck said loudly, talking over Mabel, “there’s Brady and Luna.” And then he tugged us away without a backward glance.
“Just call me whenever, sugar, and we can set something up!” she called after us.
“Holy shit.” I breathed out a laugh and stared up at Beck, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Mabel sells sex toys,” I hissed.
“Yeah. I told you not to ask. Now, I’m going to have nightmares for a week.”
“Well, maybe I should book a party since all my toys are ruined. Or are you one of those men who are intimidated by a little help?”