Chapter 29 – Rosie
ROSIE
The kink in my neck is a keepsake of the painful decisions I had to make last night. Leaving Beck in the bar was torturous. And sleeping on separate sofas was even more brutal.
But acting on feelings isn’t something I can risk. Not at this point in my life. I have Charlie to think of.
I roll off the sofa and peek at Beck who’s still sleeping while I tiptoe to the bathroom. The mirror’s reflection is confirmation of the lack of sleep I got last night. When I step out, I grab a blanket and my phone and sneak out the door to the deck.
My phone is in working order thanks to Mr. Stone’s rice trick. I have no missing texts or calls. I release a sigh of relief and gaze at the street and shops down the street. From this spot on the deck, there’s a clear shot of the ocean.
Finally alone, the last twenty-four hours play through my mind. Beck’s intense gaze as if he wanted to devour me. The feel of his skin pressed against mine. Being in his embrace, his hair slipping through my fingers, the stroke of his hand against mine.
We were so close, his breath brushing against my lips. His mouth hovering over mine. Him palming my backside and thrusting me against his stiff length.
My phone vibrates in my hand and I jump.
Beck
Where are you at?
I’ve got a surprise for you.
My lips twist while I consider returning inside.
I was a mature adult last night. As tough as it was, I made the decision not to cross the imaginary line.
Staying put out here, I’m safe. There’s no worry over crossing boundaries or doing something either of us will regret. Or worse, not be able to undo.
My phone vibrates again.
Beck
I made coffee.
And that settles it. I’m back inside the apartment in less than two seconds. There’s no consideration when coffee is involved. My answer is always yes.
“Thought you could use this.” With a little wink, he offers me a mug.
“Desperately.” I don’t check the temp; I don’t even say thank-you before I’m gulping it down. It’s hot but not burn your mouth hot. And it’s strong. The kind of strong that gives you a kick in the ass to wake up. “Thank you,” I finally say once I’ve come up for air.
He shrugs and takes a sip from his own cup as he leans against the kitchen counter.
He’s still dressed in his dad’s sweats and T-shirt, and if it’s possible—looking hotter than he did last night.
Maybe it’s the added touch of his hat that he’s using to either hide his messy hair or his eyes from the embarrassment over last night.
“It’s nothing fancy like I’m sure you’re used to. ”
And we’re back with the little digs. This one may be more subtle than his usual, but it’s still obvious.
“What do you even know about me?” I quip over my shoulder as I stalk through the living room and back outside to the deck.
“A lot, actually,” he says to my back, following me.
I didn’t mean to start a fight. I’m tired, it’s early, and there’s a dull ache sitting around my back and lower stomach.
And clearly neither of us got a good night’s sleep.
Because if I was cramped on the sofa, he definitely woke up feeling stiffer.
My mind shifts after that last thought, wondering if other parts of him woke up stiff.
“I know you need a cup of coffee within the first thirty minutes of waking up or you get grouchy.” He chuckles lightly, but not in a patronizing way.
I open my mouth to speak but clamp it shut when it appears he’s not done talking.
“Or you get a headache. Which then makes you grouchy.” He smirks at this, and I just roll my eyes.
“I know you like to visit new coffee shops but you never like the coffee. You only like to go for the vibes. Because I know that you prefer your coffee with honey and oat milk. But if they don’t have it, you’ll settle for sugar and cream. ”
My stomach twists and to keep myself from overanalyzing his words, I take another drink of my coffee. Except the taste of the sugar on my tongue is a cruel reminder. After seven years, Beck still knows how I take my coffee.
“And I know it damn near killed you every day since Charlie was born that you hadn’t told me about her.
You never kept secrets from me.” My insides quiver and some of the guilt I’ve been holding on to releases.
“Pfft. What do I even know about you? How can you even say that?” He shakes his head, running his thumb over the handle of his mug. “I know a lot about you, Rosie.”
I swallow another gulp of coffee. “I guess you do,” I mumble.
We lock eyes and there’s heat and tenderness ricocheting between us. We share a weird sort of reconciliation smile.
I move to the railing and lean my elbows on it while cradling my mug in both hands.
He joins me, our arms brushing slightly, and my body fills with warmth.
There’s not only memory carrying these feelings.
Because as much as I thought they were gone, it seems they were only stuffed down deep.
Now that we’re together again, those old feelings are threatening to rise to the surface.
We drink our coffee silently, probably another thing he remembers about me—I prefer to have almost a full cup of caffeine before communicating with others. Gazing at the ocean in the distance, the rising sun glitters across the waters surface.
When I glance over my shoulder at Beck, his brown eyes are pensive beneath the rim of his hat. My stomach tightens in apprehension as I consider what’s on his mind.
“Ya know, I know a lot about you too.”
He turns to face me, leaning a hip against the railing. “Yeah?”
“I know you’re good at your work and you enjoy it.”
He bobs his head but I’m not sure he believes my words.
“I know for someone who doesn’t forgive easily, when you do, you’re gracious and benevolent.”
His eyes soften but he just shrugs a shoulder and glances down at his bare feet.
“You’re patient. I always admired the way you handled the responsibilities of caring for Milo.”
He plucks a splinter of wood that’s peeling off the side of the railing. “I figured he could use some gentle parenting for a change.”
He’s attempting to play off these qualities I’m pointing out. Like he’s been so beaten down he doesn’t even know how to take a compliment. And the fact I might’ve had something to do with that causes my heart to break.
“I’ve seen it with Charlie too,” I say softly.
This catches his attention enough that he lifts his gaze to meet mine. His eyes crinkle slightly and the brown hue goes glossy. I smile and lift my chin, reassuring him of my words.
He clears his throat. “She’s a good kid. It’s easy to be patient with her.”
“Yeah, well, she wasn’t always easy.”
He purses his lips and wrinkles his brow. I’m hit with the reminder that he didn’t know her then. And it’s my fault he didn’t.
“The teenage years probably won’t be easy either,” I add.
“I hope I get to be around for those.”
The blow punches me again. “Beck,” I say on an exhale. “You will. Now that she knows, and you know.”
“You think she’s going to want to keep spending time with me?” he asks, concern smearing his expression.
“Are you kidding?” I reach for his arm without thinking. “She’s crazy about you. Probably because you both are so much alike.”
“I’m pretty crazy about her too.” His lips pull into a smile. “And her mom.” He releases the admittance like it’s effortless.
Beck plucks my hand from his arm and holds it, gently caressing his thumb across my knuckles.
My body tingles in response to the roughness of his calloused hand and my heartbeat picks up speed as I draw in closer to him.
He locks his gaze with mine and I feel it again—that damn resistance band.
When I search his eyes, I’m flooded with want and desire.
I see my hopes and dreams so vividly staring back at me.
I see my future.
My brain is overloaded with questions of demographics and logistics. But my heart is pushing out strained beats against my ribs at the idea of this thing between us being a real possibility again.
“Beck, I—”
“I know it doesn’t make any sense. That we don’t make any sense. Not now. But the way I see it, we never made any sense. And that didn’t stop us before. Why let it stop us now?” He tugs me closer.
“You’re right, we don’t make sense. Look how it worked out for us?” I say it like a question, as if he somehow forgot.
“But that’s the thing, it hasn’t ended. Not for me.” His eyes search mine and the fire burns between us, scorching my body and reaching all the dormant parts of me. “And something tells me it hasn’t ended for you either.”
Tears well up in my eyes and my heart races as the energy buzzes between us. He holds me closer, and the feeling of being desired and wanted is exhilarating. Every fiber in my body is alive and craving the attention it’s been starving for. The satisfaction only he can grant me.
“It hasn’t,” I admit on a soft sob, the confession breaking something free in my body.
With zero hesitation, he takes me by the hand and yanks me back inside the apartment. He snatches my coffee and sets both mugs on a side table. And I almost protest. Have I had enough coffee for this…for whatever is about to happen?
Before my brain has time to comprehend what is going on, he shoves me against the closed door, stealing my breath.
He cups his palms to my cheeks, the roughness of his hands stroking my skin.
His eyes are dark and lustful as they dance over mine with intention.
Looking at me like he wants to devour me.
And I think if he doesn’t pull away now—I will let him.
I will let him consume all of me.
His hands skid downward where he pushes pressure with his thumbs into the sides of my neck.
“You’re more beautiful now than ever,” he confesses on a rush of breath.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you that since I first laid eyes on you at the beach that night by Dottie’s. But you know how stubborn I can be.”
Warmth expands in my chest and a smile pulls at my lips. I take a hold of his hands while they’re still clasping my neck. “I know,” I whisper. “And I guess I’m stubborn too. Because I haven’t told you…my engagement is off.”
With the release of my confession, the resistance band finally snaps.
He spins his hat backward and leans in closer, the hard plane of his body pressed against mine.
I suck in a breath as a blaze of yearning rushes between my thighs.
Achingly slow, he lowers his mouth to mine and greediness has me pushing up on my toes to meet him partway.
At last, his lips brush mine, setting fire to them on contact.
It’s soft at first, almost as if he’s scared to trust it.
But the gentleness is intimate and has my mouth answering greedily.
Like it’s been waiting its whole life for this moment.
For this exact kiss. Like it’s never known a kiss this amazing could even exist.
My mouth moves over his with ease and desperation all wrapped into one. When he licks the seam of my lips and forces his tongue inside, a soft moan escapes me. He slips a hand inside the front of my shirt, his rough and calloused hand gliding over my ribs, and a shiver runs through me.
When his hand inches further and discovers I’m not wearing a bra, he releases a guttural groan. “You’re killing me,” his words grate out. He skims a thumb across my nipple before cupping my breast. My knees go weak, and I sink against the door as my head goes dizzy.
Beck pulls back reluctantly, gazing down at me with heat radiating in his brown eyes as I lick my lips.
A gritty groan breaks free from him. “I need you, Rosie. I need to have you. Right now,” he rasps as he sets his warm lips to my neck and plants a row of kisses until he meets my eyes again.
“But if you tell me no, I’ll let you go.
As much as it will completely shatter me.
I will.” He clasps his free hand to the back of my neck and forces me to look at him. “Just say the word.”
“You have me. Take me, please.”
A cocky grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as he drags the pad of his thumb across my lower lip. “No need to beg, honey.”
I roll my eyes and shove him in the chest. Chuckling, he leads me toward the sofa and sits, yanking me into his lap so I’m straddling him. With his large palms splayed across my back, he leans in and presses gentle and purposeful kisses to my neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
“What about your dad?” I pant out.
“He’s gone. He left early to go fishing with his buddies. It’s just you and me.”
At his words, I melt. It’s just you and me.
Beck’s hand finds the back of my neck, fingers curling around it with a hint of possessiveness that kicks my craving into drive, and he guides my mouth toward his again. But he pauses midway and forces my gaze to meet his.
“I’ve waited seven years for you,” he whispers, the rush of breath from his words reaching my lips.
“I know, me too,” I agree softly.
“No, I mean…there’s been no one else…since you.”
Air catches in my throat at his confession. I rear back. “Wait. What are you saying?”
“I meant my marriage vows, Rosie. Every single one.”
My eyes water again.
“You’re my wife,” he says, his voice haughty. “You’re mine.”
“Beck,” I whisper, a few tears slipping out. Guilt presses against my chest, threatening to cave it in. Even though there has only been West, I’ve been reckless with my vows. Reckless with Beck’s heart.
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “I didn’t expect you to wait. Honestly, I didn’t expect me to wait.” A small smile appears on his lips. “It’s not like I didn’t have the opportunity. But none of them were right. None of them were you. None of them were…my wife.”
And because I know Beck, and know his words are genuine, I know there’s no animosity there.
My chest expands again, and I thread my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
“There’s nothing I love more than when you call me your wife,” I admit, then scrape my fingers over the facial hair on his cheek.
“And I want you to see what you’ve been waiting for. ”
He gives me a teasing grin, leaning in close and nipping at my lip with his teeth. “Good. Show me. Wife.”