Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Beckett
I think I got this girl all wrong. She’s got a quiet confidence and sass that I actually admire.
I can see she’s trying to turn this day around for the both of us, and maybe, I should give her some grace and make some effort.
I follow her like a lost puppy to the dining area, completely hypnotized by the sway of her hips in her tight, silver dress.
“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Noelle moans as she flicks through the menu.
“I think I’m going to get the truffles to start, and then the steak and, oh, they have a mahogany cake.” There’s excitement in her tone.
“You like mahogany cake, huh?” I say, turning the pages of the leather menu.
“Yes, it’s what I have as my birthday cake each year.”
“Ah, yes, Christmas Day baby, right?”
She lifts her head from the menu and narrows her eyes. “You have a really good memory.”
“Thanks, it helps in my line of work,” I say without thinking.
“Oh, yeah? What do you do?’
“Security,” I confirm casually.
She peers over her menu. “Are you going to elaborate?”
“No,” I say, looking at the steak options.
“Mysterious, I like it.”
Oh, she has no idea.
The waiter took our orders, but since then we have avoided conversation and eye contact. I watch as she sips on her glass of champagne, twirling the stem between her elegant fingers.
“Don’t you find people fascinating?” she asks, looking over at the group of people. They are all wearing matching Christmas jumpers and scream ‘office party’.
“I suppose,” I say with a shrug.
“Like that couple over there. What do you think they are doing?”
I look over at where a man and woman sit, looking into each other's eyes with such intensity, I’m waiting for one of them to crawl across the table and devour the other. “Probably married and out for a Christmas meal.”
She shakes her head. “No, he has a tan line on his wedding finger. She has no ring. I bet they’re having an affair. He’s told the wife he has to work late, but really he’s taken his secretary out for a lavish meal and a quick fuck.”
“You got all that from just looking at them?” I ask, my tone amused, as I assess the couple in question.
“Yeah, and I bet he’s called Simon. It’s typical Simon behavior and she, she looks like a Lynsey.”
“You have issues. I think you need to invest in some new hobbies now you’re single,” I deadpan as I reach for the bottle of champagne and share the remaining liquid between our glasses.
“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you don’t people watch.”
Sure, I do. It’s what I used to do in the military, and I was damn good at it.
“Not really.” I shrug.
“Try it. Pick a couple and tell me their story.”
No,” I say flatly.
“Why?”
“Because it’s fucking weird,” I whisper hiss.
“Oh, don’t be such a bore. Live a little. I’ll pick.” She extends her neck and looks around the room. I eyeroll her and finish my glass. Shit, I really need to slow down the drinking. We've already done a bottle, and we haven't had dinner yet.
“Okay, them.” She points to a couple sitting in a booth a few tables away.
“Don’t point. It’s rude,” I scold, gently shoving her hand down.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she mocks and her words stir something to life in me, and I awkwardly shuffle in my seat.
Deciding to humor her, I go along with this ridiculous game because what the hell else do I have to do with my evening? I let out an irritated breath. “Which couple?”
She tilts her head to the left. “Two tables over. The woman with the red hair, navy dress and the guy in the blue jumper and the skirted egg.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Skirted egg?”
She points to her head. “Bald on top, hair around the edge, a skirted egg.”
I bark out a laugh, drawing attention to us, and I try and disguise my outburst with a cough.
“Come on, tell me their names and what they do,” she encourages.
I focus on my poor, unsuspecting victims of this ridiculous game and really look at them. Watching people, learning their behavior patterns and movements is not new to me, but I’m here to appease Noelle.
I watch the older couple as the man scrolls mindlessly on his phone, and the woman pushes her dessert around her plate in silence.
“Any time this side of Christmas, Beckett. I’m not getting any younger,” she demands, tapping the table with her palm.
“Okay, okay, I’m observing.” I clear my throat and lean over the table so I’m closer.
She meets me halfway and I lower my voice and give her my observations.
“They are married.” She nods in agreement, not looking at me, but at them.
“She’s been a stay at home mom all their married life, and now their kids have flown the nest and now it’s just the two of them. ”
“Yes, good, good,” Noelle praises, and it gives me the confidence to continue her game.
“Her name is Alice, he’s Ted. He works in sales, ignores his wife and spends the weekends at the golf course.”
“Yes. So typical of a Ted,” Noelle says, her tone excited.
“They haven't had sex in months, and she resents him because she had to give up her career as a florist to support his dreams, but he failed and lost all their savings.”
“Perfect, absolutely perfect. Well done.” She raises her hand as if waiting for a high five. I lightly tap her hand, and she wastes no time selecting another couple for our weird little game. “Okay, those two at the bar. Dude with the glasses and the grey shirt.”
I spot the guy, and for some odd reason I am now invested in this.
“Okay, Stanley. He’s a teacher, coaches softball on the weekends, but every second Friday, he meets his buddies and he tells his girlfriend, Zoe, that he’s playing fantasy baseball, when he’s really part of a historical reenactment group, but he can’t tell her because he knows that men in costumes give her the ick. ”
Her eyes catch mine, and I can’t help but smile, watching her whole face light up. She really is beautiful in an effortless sort of way.
“And he does this all from his mom's basement. It’s part of his cover story,” I add in for good measure.
“Oh, and he loves to be pegged by Zoe. But he says he does it because she likes to be dominant in the bedroom, but they both know deep down he just likes it,” she concludes, and then bursts into laughter.
Now I am really chuckling. “How do you come up with this stuff?”
She shrugs. “It’s a talent.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, I have many.”
“I bet you do.” I run my tongue along my teeth, watching her teeth sink into her plump lower lip, leaving me wondering how it would feel to be the one biting down on that.
This wasn’t the plan. But as much as my grumpy ass hates to admit it, she’s flipped my day on its head.
I’ve had more fun in the last hour with her than I have in the last month with Casey, and I am starting to wonder why I thought proposing was a good idea.
Noelle is not only stunning, but she’s funny and smart, and with every word that falls from her lips, I want to know her more.
I don’t know when it was, but at some point, Casey and I stopped spending time together, stopped sharing our days; stopped trying. Maybe I thought proposing to her would save us, but being here with Noelle, having carefree fun, has highlighted how much was lacking in my relationship.
“So, what is it that you do? Fashion?” I ask.
“Yes, I studied at FIT in New York.” I give her an impressed nod. FIT is a good school. “My goal is to be a designer, but currently, I do nothing, and I haven't since I graduated this past summer.”
I mentally do the math, wincing a little at the age gap between us. “So, you’re twenty-two.” I grimace.
“Yes, well for another few hours, I’ll be twenty-three Christmas Day.”
Okay, a little better. Only twelve years between us.
“So, what do you plan to do now you’ve graduated?
I applied for an internship, but I didn’t get it.” Her shoulders slump, and she finishes her champagne.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s their loss.”
“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgment.” She eyes me.
“True, but I’m a good judge of character and you strike me as the type of woman who knows what she wants and won’t give up until she’s got it.”
Her posture changes and surprise dances in her eyes, as if she’s being seen, really seen for the first time.
“Thank you for saying that.” She says it with such sincerity in her tone that I now feel bad for being such a dick to her on the train, but I guess we're just two people caught up in a bad day and collided when we were maybe not the best versions of ourselves.
“So, what’s your life plan now?” I ask as I signal the waiter to bring us another bottle.
She lets out a long exhale. “Who knows? Wallow for a little while and then find a new internship and apartment, I guess. I just didn’t see this being my life, you know?”
“I hear ya,” I say in agreement as the waiter arrives with a new bottle of champagne in record time and pours us a glass each.
“I might go visit my friend, Annie. She’s studying in California; might fuck a few frat boys. You know, fuck away the heartbreak? The world is my oyster now, right?”
“Or you could fuck me to get over him.” The words slip out, and I clear my throat, mentally preparing my apology, but relief floods my body when she fights back a smile and grins.
“I guess I could.” She winks and I have to stop myself reaching over the table and dragging her into my lap.
She changes the subject. “And what about you? What’s the plan now you’re free and single?”
“Same as you. Focus on my new career and find a new place to live. And of course, fuck away the heartbreak.”
“Good plan.” Noelle raises her glass. “So, if you are starting over with a new career, what was the old one?”
I think about lying, but something about this girl draws me in, and I think she could crack me open, and I’d let all my secrets seep out, and I don’t think I’d be mad about it.
“Marine.”
Her mouth falls open. “You were in the Marines? she asks, leaning in a little closer, her long blonde ponytail now falling over one shoulder, and I imagine wrapping her silky hair around my fist, tugging her head back as I take her from behind.
“Yes.”
“That’s hot. Maybe I should fuck you.”
I clear my throat and cover my mouth to hide my smile. She is so unexpected in the best way. I never know which version of her I am going to get when she opens her mouth. Sweet Noelle, Bratty Noelle or Flirty Noelle, and secretly I love it.
“Did you get to keep the uniform?” She asks with a waggle of her brows.
“Yes, why? Do you have a fetish for men in uniform?”
“No, but my old roommate at college, she slept with this Navy Seal, and oh my god, she said it was the best sex of her life.”
“Really?’ I ask as I sip my champagne.
“Yeah, made her come three times, I mean, who does that? What a champ.” I choke on my drink and bang my chest to regain an even breathing pattern.”
I lean forward and she meets me halfway across the table.
“Noelle if you haven't been able to come three times in one night, then you have been with the wrong men,” I say, my voice low.
“Oh, really? You sound very confident there. Are you saying you can make a woman come three times in one night, Beckett?” She says with a teasing tone.
We lean back into our seats, and I press my lips together in amusement, loving the way my name sounds when she says it.
Oh, you have no idea.
“It’s three times minimum with me, Noelle.”
I am having so much fun with this girl, I’ve forgotten all about my shitty day.
“So, how old are you anyway?” She asks.
“How old do you think I am?” I throw her question back at her.
She narrows her eyes, schooling my features and chewing on that damn lip again that has my dick stirring to life. Truthfully, I am just thankful that he’s still working. I was worried today's events had stopped me ever getting the urge again.
“Thirty-one.”
“Close.”
“Care to share?”
‘Thirty-five.”
“Oooh, you are old,” she teases, biting down on her lower lip again, her eyes dancing with mischief.
That damn lip.
“I prefer experienced,” I say, my tone suggestive.
“Oh, I have no doubt you’re full of experience and could teach me some things.” She winks, and I am a fucking goner.
Oh, angel, you have no idea what I’d like to teach you.