Chapter Twenty – Favorite Kind of High #2
“I haven’t changed my mind. I want you, Maisey.
More than I want air to breathe, but it was also good that you stopped us last night.
It wasn’t right to take you there in the kitchen where your dad could have walked in.
That wasn’t respectful to you or him. So I won’t do what I want right now either, while we’re in the middle of the living room.
Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to tear those butterfly scrubs off and scramble your brain until the only word that escapes those perfect lips is my name.
Until we can do that, until we have a room and a night to ourselves, we’ll have to keep it PG-rated. ”
My heart thudded. He was right. I would have been embarrassed if my dad had walked in on us last night or today. It was also sweet and charming that he’d even considered it.
Instead of responding, I just curled into him and turned to watch the muted television.
“Maise?”
My pulse leaped at the rawness of his tone, and I looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Yeah?”
“I really fucking like you coming home to me.”
My heart squeezed, and my eyes watered.
We sat there for a few more minutes, with our limbs twined, hearts beating almost to the same rhythm, and wants and worries filling the silence.
But for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt like I’d truly come home.
I felt safe and wanted. Like I might just be enough for this one person.
Then, I stopped my thoughts before they got too carried away.
Being on shift today had allowed me the time and space away from him that I’d needed.
I reminded myself that what was happening with Beckett wasn’t him saying he was in love with me.
He’d simply said he wanted more, which meant sex.
He wanted to turn our friendship into not necessarily a friends-with-benefits arrangement, but something a bit more than friendship and a bit less than love and marriage.
And he’d promised to try not to hurt me. It was up to me to guard my heart.
I had to remember his limitations. Just wanting some sort of relationship, wanting something more was a massive leap for Beckett. And I’d signed up for whatever he could offer this morning when I’d shut him up with a kiss.
I’d chosen passion and sin over love and forever after.
So instead of fretting and worrying and trying to change what I’d agreed to, I let myself enjoy the feelings of home and connection that being locked in his arms brought me.
My eyes drifted closed as peace filled me.
Days of very little sleep and high stress were all catching up with me.
I felt my body loosen, dreams tugging at me, only to be pulled back to the surface by Beckett’s soft tone.
“Before you conk out completely,” Beckett murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I wanted to tell you Cleaver called today.”
That pulled me completely out of the hazy warmth of sleep. “Yeah? What did he say?”
“He talked to Delilah.” His voice held that clipped edge he only used when something was off.
“She was pissed—like ready-to-burn-the-station-down pissed—that we tried to pin this on her.” His arm around my waist tightened.
“She told Cleaver she wasn’t even in town Friday.
Said she took the day off and went with Carter to Visalia.
And when Cleaver asked Carter, he backed her story. ”
I frowned. “But…?”
“But she refused to give him any receipts from the trip, and Cleaver doesn’t have enough to get a warrant or a court order to force it.
” He exhaled sharply, frustration vibrating through the room.
“Sandy didn’t find any unexpected fingerprints on the door or anywhere else on the house.
No one on the block saw anything. And whoever is renting the Helmers’ place never answered the door. ”
He raked his free hand through his hair. “Which means we’re right back where we started.”
A new and familiar weight of dread settled on my chest. “Did you give any more thought to the list he wanted us to make?” I asked quietly. “About any decisions we’ve made lately that could’ve pissed someone off?”
“I can’t think of anything I’ve done that would cause this.” Then he paused. “What about you?”
I hesitated then said, “I told Meredith I wanted to be permanently assigned to Labor and Delivery with Lisa leaving and if she didn’t put me up for it, I’d have to consider moving to a different hospital. She told me today, once she hires someone for the floater pool, they’ll transfer me.”
Beckett shifted, eyes widening. “You did? I’m so damn proud of you, Maise.”
I flushed at his compliment and then arched a brow at him. “What’s on your list?”
“Stoney is obviously not thrilled about what’s going on with the chief’s position. And I told Carter to fuck off when he made me an offer for the house.”
I blinked. “So Carter actually made you an offer too?”
His brows lifted. “Too?”
“Before the fire, he told my dad he’d give him top dollar, even though the house is a mess.”
“What did your dad say? Is he considering it?”
“He’s thinking about selling, but not to Carter.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t want anyone tearing down the house for some stupid development.”
A silence settled between us, filled with opposing emotions. There was comfort in lying together, holding each other, with possibilities thrumming through us, but also the impotent frustration at our inability to figure out who was threatening us…me.
“We both agreed the notes aren’t from Stoney,” I said. “He’d just come at you straight. And I can’t imagine Carter thinking past his next high long enough to write a note, especially not in orange poster paint.”
“He’s using?” Beckett’s brows pulled tight.
“He had every sign of it when I saw him at Jack’s.”
“I’ll pass that knowledge on to Cleaver,” Beckett said. “But yeah, I agree about Stoney.” He shifted again, his voice gentling. “Speaking of, I talked to him about having Mikey help us out with your dad.”
My chest tightened, gratitude and guilt twisting together. Not just because I couldn’t afford to hire anyone, but because I didn’t know how to tell my father we were having someone watch him without crushing what pride he still had.
Reading me as he always did, Beckett offered a solution without me saying a word. “Mikey wants to get his EMT certificate and a Fire Science degree after he graduates next year. We’ll tell your dad I traded access to my textbooks and notes for him watching the kitten.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“It’s not perfect. Mikey has got his swim schedule. But between the three of us, we can make sure your dad is only alone for a couple of hours at a time.”
“If I know your schedules, I can see what I can do at the hospital to switch things around,” I said.
I needed to go to bed if I wanted any chance of surviving another long day in the ER. But leaving this sweet moment, this shared warmth and companionship, felt impossible. Beckett had said he liked me coming home to him, and the simple truth was, I liked it too.
Seeing him curled up with Vader and Dorothy, waiting for me, had hit me square in the chest.
I was just deciding how to pull myself away from his intoxicating embrace in order to head to bed when a piercing crack split the night.
I jerked away from Beckett, and Vader shot to his feet with a snarl, charging for the door.
A second, equally loud blow reverberated through the night and sent Beckett rushing to the windows.
I was right behind him as he flipped the wooden shutters open. With no streetlights on this end of the cul-de-sac, it was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the reflection of the living room lights.
The sharp, unnatural clang of metal hitting glass rang out a third time, followed by a sickening shattering sound. My stomach rolled, fear pulling every muscle in my body tight.
Beckett slid his feet into a pair of sneakers and yanked open the door, barely catching Vader’s collar as the dog growled and attempted to leap out the door.
I reached for Beckett, trying to hold him back. “Beckett! Don’t go out there.”
He looked down at me, face full of fury. “Stay here. If this is our friend leaving another gift, I’m going to end it right now.”
He stepped out on the porch, shutting the door and locking a distraught Vader inside with me. I ran to my bag and dug through it until I found the pen-sized Taser Parker’s dad had given me when I’d gone off to college.
With the stun gun in hand, I opened the door to race after Beckett, and Vader slid past me before I could catch him. His bark was fierce as he headed straight for Beckett, who stood on the sidewalk, hands fisted, scanning the street.
When I’d arrived home from my shift, the night had been full of sounds, owls and insects, and the soft rush of the river behind our homes. Now, the dark was nearly silent beyond Vader’s warning rumbles. A darkness hung in the air that sent a shiver up my spine.
Beckett caught Vader’s collar, and the two of them stormed in the direction of my truck parked in front of Dad’s. As I joined them and saw my destroyed windshield, I felt the color bleed from my face. It had taken a lot of fury and muscle to do this much damage.
A porch light went on at the Helmers’, and movement in their front yard caught my eye. A figure dressed in dark clothes slinked across the lawn, heading in the direction of Main Street. Vader howled, breaking away from Beckett and shooting off like a pistol.
Beckett was right behind him.
Alerted to the chase by the bark, the person in the hoodie burst into a full-out sprint.
I did my best to follow them, but my much shorter legs couldn’t keep up with Beckett’s long ones in a high-speed foot pursuit.
By the time I caught up, Beckett was on Main Street, and I was out of breath. He was standing under a streetlight, once again gripping Vader’s collar. Both of their chests were heaving, but it was Beckett’s expression, full of anger and remorse, that did me in.
“I lost him,” he bit out angrily. “I fucking lost him. One moment he was there, and then, poof, he was gone.”
I looked toward the throng of people standing around outside One-Eyed Frank’s.
It appeared to be a group of tourists, saying goodbye, with some of them already heading toward the parking lot.
My eyes caught on a bench near the bar’s entrance and a small black mound sitting atop it.
I crossed over to it and saw it was a discarded hoodie.
Plain. No logo that I could tell, but I wasn’t about to touch it.
Beckett and Vader joined me.
“Whoever this was used the crowd as cover,” I said, shaking my head in confusion and fear. “This all seems ridiculously dramatic, Beckett. Like we’ve landed in the middle of some crime show.”
He used one arm to pull me to him, placing a soft kiss on my temple. “The person was tall. Not as tall as me, but taller than you. And lean. I never caught a look at their face or hair with that hoodie pulled up and hanging past their ass, but we have more to tell Cleaver than we did before.”
I pulled my phone from the pocket of my scrubs and searched for the non-emergency number to the sheriff’s office. As I dialed, I asked, “Who could hate me this much?”
A lump formed in my throat. I tried to be a good person. I tried to help people. I filled in as much as I could at the hospital. I was never cruel if I could help it, not even when Delilah and Chelsea pushed me to my limits.
Unease accompanied another shiver up my spine as I thought of the dark-clad figure who’d smashed my windshield.
It hadn’t seemed like Delilah, and yet, it could have been her.
She was taller than me and shorter than Beckett.
But like Beckett had said, it had been hard to distinguish anything about the person in an oversized hoodie.
What I’d told Beckett at the house still rang true. The whole thing felt immature, ridiculously childish. Someone trapped in their teen years…or an actual teenager. And I didn’t personally know a single teenager.
But the pattern of escalation made it impossible to ignore.
A taped note on a car was nothing compared to a shattered windshield.
And the timing—God, the timing—felt deliberate.
The closer Beckett and I drifted toward turning our fake engagement into something real, the more unhinged this person’s reaction became.
Except, how could they possibly know?
Aside from that one kiss at the firehouse, Beckett and I hadn’t really been seen together in public.
My mind flicked to our tangled bodies in the lake, the almost-kiss in Dad’s backyard.
I shook my head hard. No one should have seen those. No one could have, unless…
A cold shiver coasted up my spine.
Unless someone had been watching us.
Watching me.
Acid churned through my stomach.
I might be willing to risk my heart for a few stolen, breathtaking moments with Beckett, but would I risk my life?
Beckett’s life?
My dad’s?
The thought landed like a fist—sudden, brutal, and terrifyingly real.