Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Joey
Charlie
Be there in twenty.
Uh. . .what for?
Charlie
You said you’d watch Vera and Frank tonight so Finn and I could go out.
Please tell me you didn’t forget.
I forgot.
I wince. For the last week, Beckett and I have both been engulfed in work, but we’ve still made time for our firepit chats and grilled cheese dinners.
But over the week, my goldfish memory has failed me once again.
Panic grips me, because Beckett will be home at any moment.
I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased about spending the evening with two rambunctious dogs.
And I don’t even know what Barbara will think.
Hell, the cat probably hates everyone except Beckett.
Sorry. I meant to send that text to someone else. Can’t wait to have the pups over!
Charlie
Do you need Benadryl? Or anti-itch cream?
What?
Charlie
You get hives when you lie.
And right now, you’re lying. You totally forgot your promise.
So do you want cream with aloe or the extra-strength kind?
Fuck right off.
Aloe, please.
Twenty minutes later, Charlie pulls up to the cottage in her SUV, which is bursting with two playful dogs and an oversized canvas bag filled with supplies.
Shoving my shoulders back, I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the chaotic night ahead.
As I stride towards the door, the dogs paw impatiently at the other side, their nails no doubt leaving scratch marks in the solid wood.
And adding a fee to my final month’s rent to repair the damages, I’m sure.
I brace myself as I open the door, preparing for the chaos.
Unsurprisingly, Frank runs headfirst into the couch, unfamiliar with the layout of the place.
But that doesn’t dampen his excitement. Both dogs wag their tails, their bodies wiggling, their happiness momentarily distracting me from my concern about Beckett and Barbara.
The dogs sniff and explore every inch of the living area. When they move on and begin padding down the hall to my bedroom, my anxious thoughts return and a heavy pit of worry settles deep in my stomach. I really hope Beckett isn’t upset.
Charlie thrusts the hefty supply bag into my arms, then surveys the cottage, taking in the copious number of blankets thrown over the back of the couch or puddled on the cushions, the laptop still open, and my emotional support water bottle on the table.
Nodding, she hums with approval. Then she spins toward me, settles her hands on her hips, and raises a singular dark brow. “Have you slept with him?”
My jaw practically hits the floor. “Charlotte Rose.”
“Josephine Iris,” she mocks.
“What makes you say that?” I clutch the tote tightly, and what I assume is dog food crunches inside.
One side of her mouth ticks up. “You may think I’m oblivious, but I saw how you two were acting last week.”
“You’re making shit up.” I scoff. “You were totally focused on that weird, medical erotic story.”
“I saw you hold his hand under the table.” She smirks. It’s the classic, sisterly smirk that says nice try; you can’t get anything past me.
“Since when does holding hands equate to sex?”
She cocks her head to the side, giving me a skeptical look. “He tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. You blushed a color I didn’t think was humanly possible. Come on.”
The air whooshes out of my lungs. “When did you suddenly become Sherlock Holmes?” I tighten my grip on the bag even more, wishing I could use it as a shield against my sister and her inquisitiveness
Before she can answer, the door creaks open and Beckett steps into the house, wearing his wrinkled blue scrubs and a tired expression.
I hate that he’s so damn attractive even when he’s exhausted and disheveled.
It’s not fair.
He stops in his tracks and looks from my sister and her smug smile to me, still clutching this bag for dear life.
My heart sinks. Dammit. At the very least, I hoped I could catch him before he walked in so I could warn him about the animal slumber party.
“Is everything okay here?” he questions.
Charlie’s smile turns warm again. “Everything’s great. Thanks again for having the dogs over.” With that, she passes by him and steps out the front door. When it shuts behind her, I swear I can hear her laughing.
Beckett stands in the middle of the living room, leather jacket draped over his arm, perplexed.
With this fucking bag still in my arms, I hug it even tighter. First it was a shield, but now I need it for emotional support while I break the news to my roommate.
“I broke a roommate rule,” I hedge.
His eyes go wide. “You touched Agatha again?”
I rear back, my heart jumping into my throat.
“What? No.” Finally, I set down the bag at my feet and Beckett peers over to see what’s inside.
“I forgot to tell you that I agreed to watch Vera and Frank for the night. I’m so sorry.
I don’t know if Barbara even likes dogs, but I wanted to give you guys the chance to leave for the night in case you didn’t want them here.
” I suck in a breath, then barrel on, my words coming out in a trembling rush.
“Again, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t intentional.
My mind has been consumed with work stuff, which leaves little room for anything else.
Because of the stress, I haven’t been sleeping well.
” I huff. “I also should drink more water, though that’s beside the point.
And my sister. . .god she is so happy with Finn.
I wanted her to have a nice date night and these dogs are a handful. And—”
Beckett drops his jacket, then strides across the room and grabs my shoulders, his green eyes brimming with concern.
I’m not sure if he’s concerned about tonight’s circumstances or my impressive ramble, or if he’s simply concerned about me.
“Breathe for me, Joey. I need you to take a slow, deep breath.”
Silently, I nod. He’s probably worried about how tonight will go, but secretly, I hope he’s concerned about me.
Beckett assesses me, his attention dropping to my lips, which I realize now I’m worrying with my teeth.
He eases one hand from my shoulder and traces the edge of my bottom lip with his thumb, coaxing it free from my nervous bite. That simple touch causes a soothing calm to spread through my body.
God, what I’d do to sink into this feeling, hold on tight, and never let go.
The pressure in my chest gradually loosens, and my breathing evens out.
“So,” he says in a low voice. “Where are the little monsters?” There’s a glint of intrigue in his eyes. He’s still touching me, both hands on my biceps again, both thumbs moving in calming circles.
My heart surges. “I don’t know, and I’m honestly terrified.” I snap my head to one side, then the other. Shit. There’s no telling what they’ve gotten into by now.
Beckett releases my shoulders and lets out a loud, high-pitched whistle. Within milliseconds, the dogs are skittering and sliding across the floor like two newborn deer.
Quickly dropping to his knees, my roommate greets the eager dogs.
They wag their tails and whine, even more excited than when they arrived. Like they’ve reunited with a long-lost friend. Every couple of seconds, one of them body-checks Beckett, vying for his attention.
My panic drifts away as he breaks into a bright smile.
Fifteen minutes later, the dogs have finally calmed down. Both are splayed out on the floor, blissfully content as we rub their bellies.
I turn to Beckett to apologize again and find that he’s watching me. In the dim light of the living room, his eyes crinkle softly at the corners and his lips curve into a warm smile that lights up his entire face.
Confused, I frown. “What?”
He looks away, the tips of his ears turning red, but forces his attention back quickly. “Nothing. It’s just. . .n-nothing,” he stammers.
Meow.
I jolt. Beckett does too. Vera and Frank both flip over, on high alert, their ears and noses twitching.
Oh fuck.
Barbara saunters down the stairs without a single care in the world, but when she sees the four of us, she arches her back, the fur along her spine standing straight up.
Then she bolts for the kitchen, a blur of orange, and without missing a beat, the dogs take off after her.
Damn. Never in my life have I seen animals move that fast.
I’m actually quite impressed.
Beckett and I scramble to our feet and sprint into the kitchen. But there’s no sign of the animals. Panting, I spin in a circle. Beside me, Beckett zeroes in on the door with a magnetized flap I swear wasn’t there an hour ago.
Where the hell did that come from?
It’s a perfect escape for a persnickety feline and her two canine groupies.
He yanks the door open and bounds out into the dark, calling after the animals.
Just as I’m crossing the threshold, Barbara speeds back inside, running over my feet.
I blow out a breath. All right, one down, two to go.
As I close the door behind me, Beckett emerges from the dark, herding the dogs like cattle.
I can’t help but want to laugh at the absurdity of the last ninety seconds.
Vera prances inside first, with Frank trailing close behind. So close that I can’t even see his face.
Strange. Then again, Frank is a strange dog.
Beckett’s out of breath, his chest heaving as he shuts the door. I’m still processing the chaos, my mind whirling.
“We need to nail this door down,” he pants. “They’re fast. Especially the blind one. He moves like he can see just fine.”
I scurry to the junk drawer and yank it open. “I think I saw duct tape in here. Think we can use it as a temporary hold?”
Beckett nods. “Good idea.”
We work quickly, pressing the sticky strips across the flap and sealing it shut as best as we can.
When we’re finished, I sag against the counter, my head dropped forward, once again laughing. “What goes down must come up, right? It can only go up from here.”
Brows pulled low, Beckett scratches the back of his neck. “Um. That’s not how the saying goes. Or how gravity works. It’s what goes up must come down.”