Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
T here was someone behind Sky. Someone warm and hard. Their heavy arm was strung around her waist, weighing her down to the soft surface beneath her.
Her eyes flashed open to see a wooden coffee table in front of her. Not her wooden coffee table. Nothing in this room was hers. Everything was too dark, the tones too masculine. And was that a figurine of a dinosaur with a penis-shaped head?
She scrunched her eyes, recounting everything from last night. The bar. The cocktails. Clara dropping her off at home. Then…
She gasped—but then immediately wanted to slap her hand over her mouth.
Clara had dropped her at the wrong house. Becket’s house.
Because she thought they were dating?
God, it didn’t matter why. The point was, she had. Then Sky had told him about Eloise before falling asleep on his couch.
Stupid! Why had she drunk so much and let the alcohol turn her into a bumbling idiot?
But wait…she hadn’t fallen asleep with Becket. She’d been alone on the couch. So why was he wrapped around her like a pretzel? Had he decided to climb in after she was asleep?
Creep.
“Thinking pretty hard there, Peaches.”
She elbowed him in the stomach, getting a very satisfying grunt in response, before scrambling off the couch. Of course, in her haste, she fell on the floor, almost hitting her head on the coffee table, but she didn’t let that slow her down. She shot to her feet, the air whipping in and out of her lungs.
“What the hell, Hayes?” she yelled.
He sat up and rubbed his stomach. “You wake up all your boyfriends like that?”
“Only the fake kind who climb onto the couch with me while I’m unconscious and decide to have some nonconsensual cuddles.”
He laughed. He freaking laughed .
What…the…heck?
He swung his bare feet onto the floor. “First of all, it was you who climbed onto the couch with me . And I’m pretty sure I felt you grab my arm and wrap it around your waist when you rolled onto your side.”
“I might have been slightly drunk”—okay, more than slightly, but that wasn’t important—“but I remember falling asleep on the couch alone .”
He stood, and dear Heavenly Father above, the man was only wearing briefs. And he was shredded . She’d known he was packing some muscle—one look at him in a T-shirt and anyone could see that—but this was muscle upon muscle.
How often did he work out?
“I put you in my bed and came out here to sleep on the couch,” he said slowly, like she was a child who otherwise wouldn’t understand. “But apparently, you can’t stay away from me even when you’re unconscious, because you sleepwalked right onto the couch with me.”
No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be true. It was too embarrassing. “That’s not true.”
“Afraid it is, Peaches.”
She hadn’t sleepwalked in a long time…almost a year. It was usually induced by stress.
And she had been stressed after smelling the smoke yesterday.
Dammit. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. Why wouldn’t you just get up and go back to your own bed?”
“Because you told me not to.”
She swallowed. “You’re lying.”
He stepped closer, and it took every scrap of self-restraint she possessed to not move back and reinstate that semi-safe space between them. “You climbed onto the couch with me.” Another step closer. “Wrapped your arm around me. And whispered, ‘Don’t leave me.’”
She felt sick. That post-humiliation, new-core-memory-created kind of sick.
He reached out and touched her hip. “I couldn’t say no to that.”
The deep, sexy tone of his voice combined with the way his touch made her lower belly quiver—it was too much. “I have to go.”
“Stay for breakfast.”
She took a quick step back, hitting the back of her legs against the coffee table. “No. I, uh, need to get to work.”
It wasn’t a lie. She was due in at nine, but she didn’t even know what the time was.
She yanked her purse up from the coffee table, then ran—yes, ran—barefoot from his house. And she swore she heard the man laughing behind her.
Once inside her house, she slammed the door closed and rested her head against the wood.
Why? Why had she made an idiot of herself last night? Because she liked running from a fake boyfriend’s house? Because she enjoyed being humiliated?
Argh.
She pulled her phone from her purse and her jaw dropped. It was eight thirty. She started work in thirty freaking minutes.
Dropping her purse, she raced up the stairs and into her bedroom, where she stripped and took the fastest shower of her life.
It took her exactly twenty-one minutes to get ready, but that didn’t include feeding herself. It was fine—she’d eat at work. She probably had an apple or something lying around at the office. And there was a coffee machine there. She didn’t really feel like much more than coffee anyway.
She raced outside—only to run straight into a large chest.
She reared back, gasping. “Tony? What are you doing here?”
He cleared his throat. “Hi, Sky. I, um…well…I’ve been thinking about us.”
Really? Now? He came over at almost nine on a weekday morning to talk about them?
“Us?”
He moved closer. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about how we kind of grew up together. And how our families would always joke about how we would end up together.”
Jesus. This was not happening.
She took a breath. “Tony, our families were good friends growing up. My parents still really like you, and yes, they would like to see us together because of your connection to the church. But we have nothing in common. And I’m with someone else. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”
A deep frown cut into his brow. “But—”
“I really need to get to work.”
She tried to step around him, but he snagged her arm.
“Tony—”
“ Hey. ”
They both turned at the deep, angry voice.
* * *
Becket turned off the shower. He was trying to think of something, anything , but Sky. The way her blue eyes had widened when he touched her. The curve of her waist beneath his palm.
Fuck, he was losing his goddamn mind. He needed to get her out of his head.
Maybe he’d go pound the shit out of the bag at the fire station. That always took the edge off.
He’d just pulled on a shirt and some jeans when his phone rang. It was his mother.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Mom.”
“Becket James Hayes.”
Shit. Why was his mother middle-naming him? The last time she’d done that, it was because he’d been away with his SEAL team for over three months and hadn’t called her to check in. Was that it? Was he not checking in with her often enough?
No. He’d called her last week. “Whatever it is, Jesse did it.”
“Becket,” she scolded.
Well, it had always worked as a kid. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Clara called.”
He stopped beside his coffee machine in the kitchen. “And what did my darling sister have to say?”
“She told me that you’re dating someone.”
He cringed. He’d known it would get back to his mother, but he hadn’t thought it would happen this quickly. He should have. This was a small town, and with all of his family members here, it made it feel even smaller.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Uh, yeah, I am.”
“Who is she? And why haven’t I met her?”
“It’s new.”
“It doesn’t matter. My son, the child I gave life to, meets someone he likes enough to date—which never happens, I might add—then I think I have a right to know about it.”
She wasn’t messing around when she dropped the “gave him life” card. He checked the pantry for coffee. “Mom. Just give me a month or so to settle into things.”
Would they still be fake dating in a month? And why the hell did the possibility of the answer being a “no” feel like a gut punch?
“A month?” His mother’s voice softened. “Becket, I love you, and I want to meet the woman who’s made you proud enough to announce her as your girlfriend. So, Sunday night for dinner.”
“I don’t—”
“This isn’t negotiable, Becket. I’m meeting her.”
No coffee. He was getting a scolding from his mother, and he had no coffee.
“Okay.” The second the word was out, he wanted to bite it back. Lying to everyone else was one thing, but his mother? She always saw right through him.
“Good. Let me know her favorite food and I’ll make that. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
He hung up and blew out a long breath. Looked like Sky was having a meal with his family on Sunday. And now he needed a big cup of double-shot espresso.
He shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his keys as he headed out.
The car in front of her house was the first thing he saw. A blue Ford.
His gaze whipped over to Sky’s front door to see the asshole standing in front of her.
Tony.
Becket was moving before he could stop himself, crossing his yard into hers, never taking his eyes off them. He was only a few feet away when Tony grabbed her arm.
The fuck?
“ Hey .”
Both Sky and Tony looked up, the jerk’s eyes narrowing on Becket. “Jesus Christ.”
“Take your hand off her. Now .”
“We’re having a conversation.”
Did he really just fucking ignore Becket’s command?
He grabbed the guy’s wrist. “Final warning: release her before I make you.”
“Will you just give us five—”
Becket squeezed, and the jerk cried out. The second his fingers released Sky, Becket twisted his arm behind his back and bent him over the porch railing.
Sky gasped. “Becket!”
Becket ignored Sky and leaned over Tony. “I’m going to let you go. But the next time I give you a warning and you don’t listen, I won’t be so forgiving.”
He released Tony and stepped back, making sure he remained between the asshole and Sky.
Tony straightened, disbelief in his eyes as his gaze shifted from Becket to Sky. “You’re really dating this guy?”
Sky’s arms wrapped around her waist. “Yes.”
“Go,” Becket growled.
Tony’s eyes narrowed on Becket before moving back to Sky. “This isn’t over, Sky.”
Yes, it fucking was.
Tony spun and marched back to his car.
Becket waited until he drove away before turning. “What the hell, Sky?”
She frowned. “What do you mean, what the hell?”
“Why didn’t you shout out for help when he grabbed you? Or, I don’t know, kick him in the balls?”
“I had it handled.”
“Didn’t look like it.”
The wrong thing to say, if the tightening of her fists was anything to go by. “I didn’t need your help. And now I need to go to work.” She stormed off the porch.
He followed her. “You’re not gonna say thank you?”
“Oh, sorry. Thank you for telling me I can’t handle my business.”
“I know you can handle your business. But as your boyfriend, I felt it appropriate to step in.”
“ Fake boyfriend. You keep missing the fake bit.”
“Why do you seem fixated on that part?”
“Maybe because it’s kind of important?”
“Nothing felt fake when you slid onto the couch with me last night.”
She shot a disgusted look over her shoulder. “I was asleep.”
“And you still couldn’t keep away.”
She stopped at her car and turned. “You need therapy, you know that? You think way too much of yourself.”
“Can’t possibly be as much as you think of me.”
“Argh. You’re impossible! I can’t believe I was actually starting to like you.”
“I think you started a long time ago, honey.”
“I could strangle you. You know that?” She unlocked her car and dropped into the driver’s seat. “I’m late for work. I’ll see you later.”
“Oh, by the way, my mom wants to have you over for dinner on Sunday.”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind, before slamming the car door.
He was going to take that as a maybe.