22. Sawyer #2
Watching someone charm Grams until she was putty in their hands wasn’t something I thought I’d ever see, but Beckett had done it.
The woman was utterly enamored by him. Watching them banter back and forth was more than amusing.
It was downright entertaining. I had a sneaking suspicion she’d have made a play for him if she wasn’t happily attached to Harold.
“You’re lying,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “There’s no way.”
Beckett held up his hands. God’s honest truth. I swear to it.”
“You didn’t know Bob Barker. You’re too young!”
“He had business dealings with my dad,” Beckett said, beaming. It was the only time I’d seen him smile when speaking about his father. “He sent us a Christmas card every year. I’ll show you sometime.”
Grams sighed, staring at the muted reruns on TV. “That man was something fine. Had plenty of fantasies about him in my heyday. That was before Harold captured my attention. I do think there’s a slight resemblance between them.”
My nose scrunched on instinct. “Ew. There’s nothing about Ass-Crack Harold that even remotely resembles Bob Barker.”
“I wish you’d stop calling him that,” she grumbled. “I got him suspenders. There’s no more crack to be seen, which is a real downer for me.”
“The town of Pinecrest salutes you for your sacrifice,” I said, raising my glass of sweet tea. “And if they don’t, I sure as hell do.”
Grams’ tut of dismissal turned into a yawn as she glanced at the clock. “Hot damn. Is that the time? I promised Harold I’d go to bingo with him tonight.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “Gotta go get ready for my hot date.”
She waved her goodbyes before hobbling out of the room. That woman would be the death of me one of these days. Her declining health was no match for her desire to stay active, and she refused to be kept down.
Even if I did find Harold unrefined, his relationship with Grams had done wonders for her. It’d given her a life outside of this trailer, a reason to do things like primp for a date or go out for burgers and bingo. She deserved a dash of happiness after living all that time alone.
Beckett shook his head, chuckling to himself as he grabbed our plates from the dining table and took them to the kitchen. I fought the urge to grab them from his hands, but decided to let him take the lead.
If I were honest, I’d admit to being more tired than normal.
Some days were like that. Liv called them zero spoon days.
I’d never really allowed myself to take a break before the pregnancy.
I was always going, going, going; too afraid to sit down for more than two seconds out of fear I might sink into a pit of despair.
But now, with Beckett here to handle some things, maybe I could take the back seat for a moment and rest. My feet were swollen, my belly ached, and there was this twinge in my shoulder from sleeping on it wrong last night. I brought my hand up, closing my eyes as I rubbed the spot without thinking.
“What’s wrong?”
I opened my eyes to see Beckett standing above me with a look of absolute concern on his face.
“It’s nothing. Just a little tired after all the excitement today.
” I didn’t do much on my days off, but today felt busier than normal with Beckett’s presence.
The need to be a perfect host had gotten the best of me, even though I’d hardly done anything.
He held out his hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Oh, you don’t—” His raised brow brokered no room for argument. “Fine,” I mumbled. “But my room is nothing short of a disaster. I have a very specific path carved out, so you’ll have to follow me.”
“You make it sound like a minefield.”
He didn’t know how accurate the statement was. My room had always been small, but with all the things I’d accumulated over the pregnancy, it was made abundantly clear how little space I truly had. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when the baby came, but that was a problem for future Sawyer.
I carefully pushed open the door, bending over to pick up a tote bag that’d fallen as I rushed out the door this morning. Before I could snag it, Beckett was there. He grabbed it before I had the chance and laid it on the pile of boxes near the door. “I could’ve gotten that, you know,” I said.
“But you didn’t have to. I’m here to help, Sawyer. Regardless of what that looks like. If you need me, I’m there.”
It was second nature to argue with him. While I was the first to offer my assistance to anyone and everyone around me, I wasn’t the best at accepting the returned favor.
Gram had always been the same, until her health demanded that she hand over the reins.
Even now, I could tell how much she hated when she had to ask for help with mundane tasks.
But for some reason, it felt selfish to deny Beckett.
He’d already missed so much, and he was beyond eager for any task I delegated to him.
And when I told him no, there’d been a genuine flash of hurt in his eyes.
So, why shouldn’t I let him take care of me?
Hadn’t that been what I wished for while reading all those goddamn baby blogs?
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I nodded. “Alright. I’ll remember that.”
“Good,” he said, nodding toward my bed. “Go sit down. Let me take care of you.”
I did as I was told, padding over and plunking down on my mattress. The bedsprings groaned beneath my weight. This thing was older than I was and in desperate need of replacement, but it would have to wait like everything else falling apart around me.
As if prompted, a sharp jab to my ribs had my hand moving to rub the spot. Baby boy had gotten more active over the past few weeks. It seemed like he could always tell when I was in pain and tried to take my mind off it. Beckett clocked the movement, coming over to join me on the bed.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I huffed, earning another sharp jab. “I think he’s about to hit a growth spurt. At least, that’s what my doctor said.”
“Can I—” Beckett’s gaze darted between my face and my belly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Can I feel?”