Chapter 27
Lacey
“Well Bless my eyes, it’s Beckett King.”
David stands behind the counter of the lumber yard his family has owned since before I was even born. He rushes around to meet us, wrapping his arms around Beckett in a tight hug.
“Mr. David,” Beckett chuckles, “How are you?”
“Doing well, son. I had heard you were in town. What brings you two by?” He moves from Beckett to hug me. “Sweet girl. You doing okay? Do you and Carson need anything?”
I smile up at him. “We are doing well. Thank you, though.” I look at Beckett and back at Mr. David. “We are needing some 1x6 treated lumber and screws for a porch deck. Think you can fix us up?”
He smirks, walking back around to the counter near the cash register. “You know I can. How much do you need?”
“Let’s say fifty boards to be safe. Six footers if you have them,” Beckett chimes in.
“I do.” He types it in his computer. “Will this go on the ranch’s tab?”
I am about to say yes when Beckett says. “No, I will be paying with a debit card.”
“You don’t have to right now,” I tell him.
“It’s no big deal. Plus, the cottage is mine now, isn’t it? I should be paying.”
I guess we all need to sit down and discuss the ranch's finances, since we all three own it equally now. I normally just pay our tab off the next month.
“The cottage is yours?’ Mr. David was clearly eavesdropping.
Beckett nods. “Yep.” He hands over his card.
“Well, how wonderful. You were always a part of the Taylor family. Holden made sure we all knew it.”
“Mr. David, if you would kindly not say anything to anyone. My brother is not too happy about the whole ordeal yet.”
“Oh, gotcha.” He nods. “Secret is safe with me.”
I highly doubt that.
“Here is your receipt.” He hands it over to Beckett. “And your screws.” He sets the box down in front of Beckett. If you two will just pull around back, I will have the guys out in the warehouse load it for you.”
“Thank you.” Beckett and I say at the same time, walking out the door and toward the truck.
* * *
Next stop, Carl’s best BBQ. One of the best restaurants in town, and one that we visited almost weekly as a family growing up. Family-owned and operated, it has been open since my parents were kids, and for as long as I can remember, it hasn’t changed the exterior or interior.
It is located in one of the duplexes off Main Street, with a washed-out red brick exterior, some sitting tables out front, and glass windows giving beautiful natural lighting inside.
The inside is lined with booths and tables, the smell of BBQ hitting your nose as soon as you step inside, and TVs lining the front, middle, and sides with random shows, music, or events going on.
The workers normally wear casual blue jeans or shorts with the famous Carl’s BBQ t-shirts in a variety of colors.
“Lacey Taylor, your usual, I presume?” Carl Sinclair III stands behind the counter in the back, grinning at me.
“Yes,” I laugh. I can tell the moment Carl notices Beckett when his face falls.
“Beckett King.” He walks around the counter, making his way to Beckett, and pulling him into a hug. I have to physically fight back the tears.
Everyone in this town loves Beckett. I hope he knows that.
“Good to see you, son.” He pulls back from his hug. “So happy you came home, even for a little while.”
Beckett just nods.
I can tell he’s uncomfortable or overwhelmed, so I step in. “Um, Carl. Never mind on the regular order. Can I just get a large order of BBQ, some baked beans, cole slaw, and fries?”
His smile grows bigger and bigger. “Absolutely, give me just a few minutes to get it all together for y’all. It’s on the house. Welcome home, Beckett.” He nods at us and goes back to the kitchen, giving the order to his cook.
“You okay?” I turn to Beckett who still hasn’t said a word.
“Yeah. I, um, I guess I just wasn’t aware so many people missed me here.”
“Are you kidding me? When you left, I can remember how sad everyone was.”
He turns to me. “Really?”
“Beckett King!” A blonde bounces behind us, and I know who she is immediately.
Beckett’s ex.
“Samantha.” Beckett says shocked.
Samantha was a girl who peaked in high school who is now in her mid-thirties, sporting fake boobs, a fake nose, and, I have also heard, a fake butt. On her sixth marriage and refuses to work a day in her life. She goes after rich men and when she is tired of them, she will go on to the next.
She invites herself into a hug from Beckett, his eyes begging me to help.
He is on his own with this one.
“When did you get home, dear? It’s been too long. I have seen you on tv. We should catch up sometime.”
“Um,” Beckett starts. “Sorry, Lacey and I have some work to do.”
“Oh, are you two like a thing now? Beckett King, I never knew you were into younger girls.”
This bitch.
Her eyes narrow at me. “You’re young enough to be his daughter.”
“He would have had to get a girl pregnant at ten years old for that to happen, stupid.” I roll my eyes at her. Samatha and I never got along, even when he brought her to the ranch.
“Still sassy and bitchy, I see.” she snarls.
“Just the way I like them.” Beckett chimes in pulling me under his shoulder, making Samantha stomp off in her heels that do not go with this town.
I try to pull out of Beckett’s hold once she is out of sight, but his hold tightens just as Carl brings out to go bags. Carl’s eyes twinkle seeing us so close and I can only imagine the gossip that is about to run through this town.
“Here you go, Lace.” Carl hands me the bags. “Come back before you leave, King,” he tells Beckett.
“Thank you, Carl. Will do,” Beckett tells him, and I fake a smile to Carl before snarling up at Beckett, trying my damndest to get out of his hold, but he doesn’t let go until he opens the driver’s door of my truck, leaving me with thoughts of, what the hell just happened?