Chapter 14 Beck
BECK
I blinked at the wooden beams of the ceiling. It took me a few seconds to figure out where I was. Dash was sprawled across my shins, and his tail started wagging against the quilt the second he realized I was awake.
"Morning, you jerk," I mumbled. Sometime in the night, the sneaky dog had abandoned his bed by the fire and made himself at home right between us.
Clara was already in the kitchen. "Are you talking to my dog?"
"He's a bed hog. I'm alright with your hair in my face, but I think I’m still pulling Dash’s fur out of my mouth."
"He likes to be the little spoon," she giggled. She walked to the side of the bed wearing my oversized flannel shirt and nothing else, save for a pair of wool socks pulled up to her knees. "Breakfast is almost ready."
I propped myself on my elbows. "You cook?"
"Don't sound so surprised. I've learned a few things in fifteen years."
"What have you got on under there?" I slid my hand up her bare thigh, my fingertips meeting nothing but skin. It didn't do anything to help my raging morning wood. My body was exhausted, but my cock hadn't gotten the memo; he stood tall and hard beneath the twisted blankets.
"Save that for after breakfast." She smacked my hand with the spatula.
"Ow." I pretended it hurt.
I dragged myself out from under the covers and padded across the cabin. Birch logs crackled in the wood-stove, and the room was nice and warm. Clara stood at the two-burner stove shifting pancakes around a cast-iron pan while a French press sat on the counter.
"This is blissful,” I said, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. She leaned into me, and I buried my face in her neck. It felt good to not have anywhere else to be.
She turned in my arms and rested her palm over my dick. "What's the saying? A lady in the kitchen and a freak in the sheets?"
Clara squealed as I lifted her onto the counter and the spatula dropped to the floor. My fingers slipped under the hem of the plaid shirt. "How about a freak in the kitchen and we have pancakes in bed?"
A moan escaped her lips as I slipped a finger inside her. "That's not how that saying goes." Her head dropped back as I worked her with my thumb. "The pancakes..." she murmured.
"Let them fucking burn." I pulled her to the edge of the counter and buried my face between her legs.
Her fingertips dug into my hair, and her body rocked as I worked to bring her to the brink.
Her legs shook next to my ears, and I knew she was close when she grabbed fistfuls of my hair.
"Beck. Oh, my god." She ground her body against my face, slick and hot, then she stiffened, every muscle contracting as she screamed my name.
"Beck. Don't fucking stop." I obeyed until she finally fell limp against the backsplash.
I grabbed the spatula from the floor, gave it a quick rinse in the sink, and flipped the pancakes just in time. She slid off the counter top. Looking at the utensil in my hand, I couldn’t stop myself. I lifted the corner of the shirt and gave her a quick smack on the ass with the spatula.
She yelped and turned to face me. "We're using that on our breakfast!" Her eyes sparkled as she rubbed her butt.
Shrugging, I moved the pancakes to a plate. "My face was just between your legs. I think I can handle it."
She grabbed the spatula from my hands, holding it like a weapon. "Beck Shepherd. Drop your drawers."
"But the pancakes."
"Fuck the pancakes," she growled. "We can microwave them."
My dick sprang free as I dropped my boxer briefs to the kitchen floor. After one stinging smack with the spatula, Clara dropped to her knees and took me, all of me, into her mouth.
My knees buckled. I had to maintained a death grip on the counter's edge to remain upright. Clara stared at me as she worked my shaft slowly and deeply.
I got close way too fast.
My cock twitched and I tried to hold back, but then she slipped her hand under my balls and squeezed. "Oh, fuck, baby." It was guttural. My knuckles turned white as I emptied myself into her mouth. When she stood up to kiss me, our scents were tangled on our lips.
"Let's eat." She winked and trailed a finger through the pool of maple syrup on the plate. I grabbed her hand and sucked the syrup off her finger.
"Now, that's a breakfast."
"Don't get used to it. I work most mornings."
"Set your alarm an hour earlier, baby." I wrapped my arm around her waist and kissed her again. "I can't believe I missed fifteen years of this. You're going to have to let me make up for it."
"I'll hold you to it." She handed me a fork and crawled into the middle of the bed with the plate. I'd been joking about eating in bed, but it was easily the best idea I'd had all week.
"You don't have to work today?"
"Megan gave me the day off for the Carnival. It’s the dog show day and Dash has to defend his best ears title.” She swirled a bite of pancake in the syrup and fed it to me. "Do you want to come with us?”
Dash sat with his chin on the edge of the mattress, his eyes following every move of the fork. I wasn't sure a dog could give a dirty look, but he was giving me his best version of one.
"The Chance Rapids Christmas Carnival? I wouldn't miss it." I picked up a piece of bacon. Clara took one delicate bite, then chomped the rest of it.
"Easy.” I laughed. "I think you almost took a finger."
She grabbed my hand and pretended to bite my thumb. I was in heaven.
My phone buzzed on the counter with an email from Kelly.
Sidney Mouser has finalized the documents and will bring them to the town meeting.
"Is it good news?" Clara asked.
"The best." I grabbed her and swung her around the small room. "The proposal is ready. The programs are protected, and it's all in writing. If the mill land comes in at a reasonable cost, they'll even consider saving the arena."
Clara squealed. "You actually did it."
"I told you I would. Now, let's get your dog to his show."
Main Street was packed.
Vendor booths lined the arena parking lot, and the Christmas tree farm was in the same spot it had been fifteen years ago.
The air was thick with pine and the smell of grease from the food trucks.
Dash led the way on his leash, and while a few people did double-takes at our joined hands, most just smiled and called out, "Merry Christmas. "
"Clara! Beck!" Megan was handing out hot chocolate with Josh and her son Jordan. They were all wearing matching Bobcats hats. "Come get a hot chocolate."
“No. Thanks. I’m sweet enough,” I said.
Clara rolled her eyes. “I made pancakes and he had half a bottle of syrup.”
"How about a coffee then?”
“You're quite the pusher, Megan.” Let me guess, you've got a bottle of booze behind the stand?"
Megan giggled. "I'm not Mable. I thought you might want a hot drink before the polar bear dip."
"Oh, no. I gave up ice baths when I retired from the show."
Josh laughed. "Tell that to Logan. He signed your entire team up. I hope none of you geezers have a heart attack."
I was younger than Josh, but didn't point it out. "I'll have to have a word with Mr. Brush."
Megan pressed a cup of black coffee into my hand. "It's on the house. Consider it a welcome-back gift."
We found Charlotte and Logan near the mountain of sawdust. Emma the florist and Charlie were there too, along with a woman named Henri, a writer who'd moved here from LA.
"Beck!" Logan clapped me on the shoulder. "Hell of a game last night."
"What?" A chainsaw roared to life nearby, and I had to cup my ear. The crowd cheered as a guy in a plaid shirt jabbed at a log, the shape of a bear slowly appearing with each cut.
"That's Jack Lumber," Charlotte said.
"Makes sense. He's good with that saw."
"No, Beck." Clara giggled. "His name is Jack Lumber."
"This fucking town." I shook my head, but couldn't stop grinning.
Clara pointed to the woman in the leather jacket with the camera. “That's his girlfriend, Henri." Henri's eyes were locked on the woodcarver through the lens of an old-school film camera.
Watching them, both in their element and supporting each other, felt like a blueprint for what Clara and I could have. Pride filled my chest as I walked through my hometown with her on my arm. My girlfriend. We'd have to have that discussion soon.
"Beck." Clara tugged my hand. "The dog show is about to start."
"But Jack isn't done with the bear."
"Dash has to defend his title. You can stay, but we've got to get his outfit on."
"Outfit?"
She patted her backpack and winked.
We wove through the crowd to the community center.
Barks echoed through the open room overlooking the ice.
Dogs of every breed were lined up, most in costumes.
Dash sat perfectly still with a set of antlers on his head that looked suspiciously like the ones Clara had worn the night she pulled me out of the ditch.
He looked like he knew the trophy was already his.
When it was his turn, the judge, Mrs. Krinkle, held up his ears for the crowd. "Woohoo!" I whistled. "Go Dasher!" The audience joined in, and the applause was the loudest of the day.
"For the fourth year running... Best Ears!" Mrs. K announced. Clara bent to rub Dash's scruff and kissed his snout.
"Your mother would be so proud," Mrs. K said, squeezing Clara's hand.
Clara's expression went soft. "She would have loved Dash."
The old woman's eyes turned to me. "And you. I hear you've been making yourself useful."
"I'm trying."
"Good boy." She patted my arm like I was one of the contestants. "Now I have to go help Donnie get the defibrillator ready for the polar bear plunge."
Donnie joined her as she walked away, guiding her through the crowd with his hand resting lightly on her back. "How long have those two been together?" I asked.
Clara smiled. "Them? It's taken forty years, but I think they're finally figuring it out."
I watched them go, thankful it had only taken fifteen years for us.
Back in the parking lot, a rumble shook the ground. I drew Clara close, trying to place the sound. A jet, a big black one with a gold crown logo on the tail flew low overhead.
"The Kings are here,” I said.
The jet banked toward the airstrip, followed by two helicopters.
"That's a bit excessive, don't you think?" Clara shook her head.
I shrugged. “They don't fly together. I'm guessing Mr. King was in one chopper, Colton in the other, and Everleigh was in the jet."
"That's sad," Clara whispered. "All that money, and you can't even travel together. Just so if the plane crashes, someone survives?"
"That's the logic."
Clara watched the sky for a moment. "Like I said. Sad."
An announcement crackled through the speakers: All Polar Bear participants, head to the beach at Sugar Bay.
"That's you, popsicle." She grabbed my hand. "I can't wait to hear how high you scream when your balls hit the water."
I pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. "I might have to change your name from Clara Belle to Clara the Cruel."
"Clara the Cruel." She pursed her lips. "I like the sound of that."
We followed the crowd until a siren whooped. A caravan of five sleek Mercedes cars followed a police escort.
"Let me guess," Clara rolled her eyes. "The Kings."
They took over the street. People stopped eating and cleared the way as the convoy passed. William King climbed out of the lead car, spent five seconds looking at the arena, then shook the slush from his shoes and got back in. He didn't even put his phone down.
Then Everleigh King stepped out of the second car.
She looked ready for Aspen, not Chance Rapids, wearing a white snowsuit with fur-lined hood and big Jackie O sunglasses. I'd never met her in person, but I knew she was surveying the crowd.
Gunnar Lockwood followed her out, and a hush fell over the people nearby. He handed a baby, also in a matching white suit, to Everleigh, then lifted a graying dog from the car. He took Everleigh's hand, and the crowd parted for them.
"Come on, Clara the Cruel. Time to meet the Ice Queen."
I took a breath and kept my grip on Clara's hand as we walked over. "Ms. King. I'm Beck Shepherd, and this is Clara Dalton."
She turned in slow motion, scanning me and then doing the same to Clara. "Shepherd. Nice to meet you both. Have you met Gunnar?"
"Not yet." I shook the big defenseman's hand. "Nice to meet you. Impressive career."
"You too." Gunnar smiled.
The kid on Everleigh's hip pointed at Dash. "Doggy!"
Clara patted Dash's head. "This is Dash. He just won the Best Ears contest. Do you want to pet him?"
I studied Everleigh. She was known as a ball-busting executive, but standing here, she seemed as maternal as anyone else at the carnival. She nodded and took off the girl's mitten. "Remember, Regan, we pet dogs gently."
Clara crouched down and guided the little girl's hand to Dash's fur. Dash just wagged his tail.
"She's a dog nut, like her father," Everleigh smiled. "We've got sixteen rescues at our country house right now."
Something about a couple with sixteen dogs made them seem more real, almost relatable. “We're heading over to watch the polar bear plunge," I said. "You're welcome to join us."
A chainsaw roared to life again, and Everleigh cupped her hands over her daughter's ears. "Yes. Let's get away from this noise. But Shepherd, I don't talk business in front of my baby."
"Got it," I said. "No business."
Stumped with what to talk about, I was grateful when Clara stepped in. She explained the Christmas Classic and the history of the carnival. She ended up inviting them both the game. Gunnar seemed pumped, but Everleigh seemed more interested in the skating exhibition.
When we got to the beach, volunteers had lit fires and set up s'mores stations. Everleigh pulled down her sunglasses to look around. "They give away all of this for free?"
"Pretty much," Clara said. "Volunteers make most of the food. It takes a week of around-the-clock baking."
Everleigh watched the families for a long time. When the baby finally fell asleep on Gunnar's shoulder, they decided to head back to the hotel. Everleigh turned to me before she got into her car.
"I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow. Mouser has the proposal. And Shepherd, good work choosing this location."
The SUVs pulled away, and the beach felt a lot bigger once they were gone. Everleigh had surprised me; she wasn't icy at all. She was almost... nice.
I watched the taillights disappear. After tomorrow, the deal would be done, and Clara and I could officially make plans. I was going to do what I should have done years ago and ask her to be my girlfriend.
"I think things are finally coming together," I said.
Clara squeezed my hand. "I think so too." She pointed toward the lake where Logan was standing in his trunks. "And now the whole town gets to see those cute underpants of yours."