26. Sawyer #2
“Hey, sugar.” He jogged over, meeting me halfway. His hand was already reaching for the tray when I pulled it back. “What’s wrong?”
“Listen, this is the only thing Liv has let me do all day, so I’m going to walk my ass over there and deliver these potatoes just like she asked,” I said, defiantly.
Beckett tried to suppress his smile, gesturing me forward. “Far be it from me to keep you from your quest, my lady. Go forth and conquer.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” I dipped my chin because there was no fucking way I was going to be able to curtsey properly with my swollen belly. “I shall.”
I sauntered past Beckett, feeling his eyes on me as I went.
Having his attention felt too damn good.
I craved every look, every touch, every kiss more than the last. Was this what love felt like?
Or was it lust? There seemed to be a fine line between the two, but I knew which side I was leaning toward.
Even if I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud.
“I come bearing gifts, boys,” I called out, raising the tray for emphasis. “Your first victims.”
Duke took it from my hands and set it down on the counter beside the grill. “Are you sure you should be—”
“If someone says one more thing about my condition, I will scream,” I warned him, narrowing my gaze for emphasis. “Don’t push me.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Duly noted.”
I felt Beckett standing at my back. His body heat seeped through the fabric of my clothes, warming me in more ways than one.
What was it about this man that made me positively elated?
Being around him made me want things I shouldn’t.
Things that would likely complicate our situation, but I didn’t really care about that.
He wrapped one arm around me, fingers playing with the belt loop around my waist. I curled into him and placed my palm on his stomach.
There’d been small touches here and there in front of my friends, but nothing quite like this.
Duke noticed the change immediately, watching the two of us curiously.
I waited for him to make some smartass comment, but if he thought it, he kept it to himself.
“Looks like you boys are getting along out here,” I said.
“We are. Beckett was just telling us about his hot sister’s art exhibit that’s coming up,” Lukas chimed in, leaning against the counter.
He brought his beer to his lips and took a sip.
“I have a shit ton of clients who go crazy for pieces from up-and-coming artists. Do you think she’d let me take a look? ”
“One: Don’t call my sister hot. You don’t even know what she looks like, and that’s weird,” Beckett said. “Two: I don’t see why not. I’ll ask her for you if you promise not to bring it up again.”
Lukas shrugged. “I don’t see what the problem is. She’s too young for me anyway.”
“How old is she?” I asked. We hadn’t spoken much about our family, so the fact that he was opening up made me more than a little curious.
“Her birthday’s next month, so she’ll be twenty-nine.”
Lukas made a gesture with his hands that said, “See? Too young,” but I knew that kind of gap had never stopped him before. Younger, older, he didn’t care. Lust was lust in his eyes.
“Has she ever done a mural?” Duke asked over his shoulder as he placed the potatoes on the grill.
“Whenever this permit shit gets settled, and we’re finally able to break ground, Liv and I have toyed around with the idea of finding an artist to bring some life and color to the new addition rather than hanging the same old beer signs on the walls. ”
Duke and Liv were the perfect partnership.
He had a good head on his shoulders, and she knew more about business than anyone I’d ever met.
Guess that was the perk of running a billion-dollar company once upon a time.
But they both had an impeccable eye for design.
Their tastes complemented each other—even if Liv’s ran more on the expensive side.
“I like that idea,” I mused. “An homage to Frank’s and the legacy it’s built.”
“Exactly,” Duke said, pointing in my direction. “That bar is the glue that holds this town together. We want to honor it however we can.”
Beckett’s hand tightened on my waist. “I think she’d really like that, honestly. Tate likes to take on passion projects.”
Duke nodded. “Thank you. We’d appreciate that.”
Lukas ran his hand along the scruff on his jaw. “A mural. Huh. I don’t know why I never thought of that.”
“Because you’re not capable of thinking outside the blueprints,” Grady chuckled. “That’s why you outsource the interior design.”
“It’s not my job to decorate someone’s space. I build. That’s what I do,” Lukas shot back.
“Do you actually do the building? Or do you outsource that, too?”
Duke nearly spat out his beer at Grady’s comment, setting off a chorus of laughter.
Beckett’s chest vibrated, and I glanced up, admiring the crinkle of skin around his eyes as he smiled.
He met my gaze, holding it for only a moment before he leaned in and kissed me.
It felt like we’d done this a million times.
Like it was nothing more than a practiced routine we had perfected.
Warmth bloomed in the center of my chest, white-hot and blazing, as his tongue caressed my lip.
I wanted so badly to deepen the kiss. To tangle my hands through his hair and kiss him until neither one of us could breathe.
Maybe I would have, if not for Duke clearing his throat loudly. I pulled back, glancing around at the men’s amused faces. Lukas raised his beer, and the faint sound of clapping drew my attention to the window behind us where Liv and Cleo were busy whooping and hollering.
“Oh my god,” I groaned, burying my face in Beckett’s chest. He ran his hand down my back in soothing strokes. “They’re so embarrassing.”
“Nothing wrong with a little PDA,” Grady said, shrugging. “We’ve all done it.”
“Some more than others,” Lukas grimaced, gesturing toward Duke.
My boss just grinned. “Don’t act like you haven’t had your fair share of rendezvous in the bathroom of my bar.”
As the men devolved into friendly bickering, I stepped out of Beckett’s embrace. “I’m going to get back in there,” I said, pointing toward the kitchen.
He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
I nodded, not trusting my words as I made my way back into the house. I let my back rest against the wall before entering the kitchen. My fingers danced over my lips, replaying the kiss on repeat.
If only Beckett knew there were a million things I wanted when it came to him. I just had no fucking clue how to ask for them.