Chapter 23 Beckett
BECKETT
Ifeel good today, almost optimistic. It’s a weird fucking feeling, but as I sit at my desk, I can’t keep my thoughts from last night out of my head.
Every moan, every time she said my name, every time her nails dug into my back, I remember all of it. I want more. I want all of it, and I never want to let her go.
I don’t know how she manages to have this effect on me, but she does.
“Knock, knock,” Briar says, tapping at my door. I look up from the papers on my desk.
“Hey, shut the door,” I say, my good mood souring just a little at the sight of him. Sloane hadn’t ever officially answered my question about whether or not I could talk to him, but I need to know for myself.
He shuts the door, slipping out of his suit jacket before sitting down in the chair across from my desk. He crosses one foot over his knee, and I look at him for several long seconds.
Sloane looks nothing like either of her parents, which is weird since Lottie looks just like Monica, and Kaden is almost identical to Briar.
“How was your weekend?” I ask, leaning back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest casually.
“It was good, yours?”
“Not bad.”
“How’s your new dog?” He asks, and for some reason, it pisses me off. My dog. He wants to know about my fucking dog, and not his daughter.
“He’s good. His name is Mocha.”
“I still can’t believe you got a dog. And that name is very…feminine,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Well, Sloane named him, and he makes her happy,” I say, trying to stay as calm as possible.
“You care about Sloane’s feelings now, do you?” he asks, raising an amused eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, I do. I actually wanted to talk to you about something that Kaden told me.”
His brows scrunch in confusion at the sudden change in topic. “Ok, what?”
“Did you lie to him and say that you invited Sloane to California?” I keep it simple. Any more words, and I feel like I might reach across the table and strangle him.
“It wasn’t a lie, I did invite her.”
“No, you didn’t.” I don’t have the energy to believe his bullshit. I know Sloane, and if she had been invited, she would have made it work.
“How would you know?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Because why the fuck would she not have gone?”
“She said she had no money,” he says with a shrug, and that’s when I know he’s fucking lying.
“Why don’t you like her?” I ask.
“It’s none of your fucking business, Beckett. And if all you wanted to do today was interrogate me about my children, then I’ll see my way out,” He hisses. My jaw clenches when he doesn’t deny my accusation.
I don’t say anything, letting him sit with the question.
“We have nothing in common,” he says, folding under the pressure of my stare.
“Have you ever even tried to get to know her?”
“Why does it matter? She’s a grown adult who ran away as fast as she could when she turned eighteen. If she doesn’t want to have a relationship with us, then that’s her problem.”
“She likes hockey. She’s really smart, and not just with numbers and letters, but business-wise as well. She likes books and is an amazing cook. She’s not weird. You are just an asshole, and I don’t understand why.”
He scoffs, “So you know everything about her suddenly?”
“She’s lived with me for months, if you forgot.
” I take a breath to try to center myself before I do something stupid.
I switch interrogation tactics. “What about her don’t you like?
Lottie is a loudmouth. She’s inconsiderate of others, and she only cares about herself.
Yet you open your arms to her, you write glowing reviews, and I’m sure you guys talk on the phone at least once a week, maybe even more. ”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’m not getting at anything.”
“Sure as hell sounds like you’re accusing me of something.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything. You are the one getting defensive, like you have something to hide. I was just asking about an observation I made.”
“I’m not getting defensive, and I don’t need to sit here while you try to psychoanalyze me.”
I raise my hands in surrender and lean back in my chair. Clearly, I’m not going to get anything out of him.
“You know what, never mind. You can go.”
“You’re kidding, right? You called me in here to interrogate me about my daughter, and now you’re just sending me on my way.”
“Yup, enjoy the rest of your day.” I look down at my papers, feeling my temper start to rise.
He lets out a huff of air through his nose before pushing away from my desk, his chair legs scraping the floor, making me fight back a cringe at the God-awful noise.
When he leaves, I glare at his back. Waiting until the door shuts behind him before I turn back to my workload. I’ve been asked to look through some paperwork for one of the other guys on the squad, just to see if I can spot anything that he didn’t.
I shake my head and try to put myself back into work mode. But for whatever reason, I’m unable to do so.
I run a frustrated hand through my hair, blowing out a breath through my lips before rolling my shoulders out.
I try once more to focus, but when all I can do is think about the woman waiting at home for me, I decide to call it a day and head home, taking my papers with me as I go.
It’s pretty early when I get home, and Sloane is nowhere to be seen. Her car is not in the driveway, and Mocha is M.I.A. as well.
Probably for the better.
I go upstairs and change into some gym clothes before grabbing a water out of the fridge and making my way downstairs to the gym.
I look around the room, and it smells like her, which just causes me to smile. Of course, she uses this room.
I look around, her pink Pilates stuff in one corner, her yoga mat still laid out from whenever she last used it. I go over to the treadmill and decide to clear my head.
The short run very quickly turns long, and by the time I’m all but doubled over, gasping for breath, I’m no longer thinking about Briar.
I step off the treadmill, and I place my hands on top of my head.
I breathe in through my mouth and out my nose until my heart no longer feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.
I sip on the water as I head up to the main floor.
“AHHHHHH! You fucking sneaky asshole bitch!” Sloane screeches, throwing a spoon at me when I accidentally sneak up on her.
It wasn’t my intention, but I couldn’t help laughing at her cuteness. “Good aim, baby,” I tease, picking up the small metal spoon that hit me in the chest before handing it back to her. She sits on the couch, laptop having been discarded, as she munches on some cherry sherbert.
“Where did you come from?”
“Well, you see, baby, when two people love each other very much—” I start, and she throws her spoon at me on purpose this time, which makes me laugh even harder.
“So you have jokes now, huh, old man?” She playfully glares at me, and I shrug, winking at her over my shoulder. I catch her watching my ass as I walk away.
I quickly shower before making my way to my two crazies on the couch.
“Mmm, much better,” I mutter, lying down on the couch, my arms wrapping around her middle as I lay my head down on her stomach.
“You’re home super early,” she points out, and I nod. She rests her laptop on my back, using me as a desk, but I don’t really mind.
“Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was very distracting,” I mumble into her stomach.
“You need to do whatever you were just doing more often,” She says, and I make an incoherent noise.
“Why’s that?”
“I like it when you’re all happy and snuggly. It makes me happy.”
“You make me happy.”
“You’re also very sappy,” she teases, kissing the top of my head.
I tip my head back so I can look at her properly. “I ran, and then I ran some more, and then I just kept running.”
“How do you feel?” She brushes her hand through my hair.
“Everything hurts, and I will be feeling it tomorrow. But I do feel better. Lighter…I don’t know how to explain it. It just gets stuffy in my office sometimes, and I guess I just needed to do something that didn’t require thinking for a little bit.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re better. Do you want me to make some food?”
“Not yet, I just want to lie here. Maybe take a nap for a few minutes. Then we can make dinner together.”
“That sounds perfect.”
I nod, laying my head back against her stomach. It doesn’t take long—just listening to the soft music she plays in the background, the comfort of holding her, and the steady beat of her heart, I do get lulled into a soft, dreamless sleep.