Chapter 18
Hyacinth nudged Beckett with her knee beneath the dining room table.
She leaned into him. “Stop being so surly.”
Beckett nudged her knee back. “I’m not.”
“Your manners are atrocious,” she whispered.
Sunshine was celebrating Beckett’s homecoming and had invited Rodrigo and Paloma, the ranch foreman and his wife, the reverend who lived on the ranch along with his wife, and several other couples who had important roles.
The cook staff had made all of Beckett’s favorites. The meal had started with menudo, a soup made from beef tripe. Then they’d eaten marinated steaks and roasted lamb with beans and rice and other Mexican side dishes that Hyacinth couldn’t name. Now they were waiting for dessert.
Darkness had settled, but tall silver candelabras were lit, and the chandelier overhead added to the glow, highlighting more vases of white roses that complemented the white linens. Like the other rooms, the dining room was elegant with a light, airy feel to it.
The conversations had flowed around the table, but Beckett had been sullen for most of the meal. The other guests didn’t seem to mind Beckett’s mood. But Hyacinth was tired of the way he was acting.
She tugged his crisp shirt that a servant had ironed, and she drew his head down so that she could whisper directly in his ear. “You’re being selfish and thinking only of yourself, as usual.”
“As usual?” He pulled back, his dark-blue eyes flashing. They’d had time to change into fresh clothing before the meal, and he’d donned the same black suit he’d worn on their wedding day. Even though she was still mad at him, she couldn’t deny that he was extremely handsome in his suit.
“Yes, as usual,” she whisper-shouted. “Sunshine has gone to all this work for you, and you’re acting like a child.”
He slanted a glance at Sunshine, who was sitting a few seats away in an elegant gown that made her look radiant. She was speaking animatedly to the reverend, who was sitting beside her. At Beckett’s look her way, she smiled over at him.
He offered her a smile back. Then he leaned into Hyacinth. “I’ll try to do better.”
“While you’re at it,” she hissed, “act like we’re married.”
“What do you want me to do?” he hissed back.
“At the very least, you can pretend you don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You could have fooled me and everyone else here.”
Their heated conversation, even though whispered, was beginning to draw notice.
“I’m sorry.” His whisper was earnest. “I’m just frustrated with the situation, but I don’t hate you, darlin’. I promise.”
She finally allowed herself to face him. His eyes held sincerity, and his expression had softened. “Maybe you don’t hate me, but you don’t like me.”
“That’s not true either—”
“I’d like to make a toast to the newlyweds.” Sunshine’s voice rose above the others.
Beckett’s eyes held Hyacinth’s a moment longer, as though he was trying to communicate more with her and reassure her that he still cared.
As the guests quieted and looked at Sunshine, she raised her crystal goblet. “May your life together be as long as the Texas prairie . . .”
At her words, Hyacinth shifted her attention away from Beckett, attempting to be polite even though she wasn’t keen on anyone toasting her and Beckett’s marriage, which was only a temporary arrangement that could be put aside at Beckett’s whim.
“May your love toward each other be as deep and high as the Texas sky. May your happiness with each other be as sweet as the Texas rose.” Sunshine beamed at them. “And may your kisses be as hot as a Texas summer.”
Good-natured laughter echoed around the table.
“They’re already hotter,” Beckett called out, finally grinning.
At more laughter, Hyacinth could feel Beckett relax beside her.
“Prove it, mi amigo,” said one of the men across the table as he raised his brow at Beckett in a dare.
“Gladly.” Beckett pivoted toward Hyacinth, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
Was he really going to kiss her? In front of everyone? Because of a silly dare?
She started to roll her eyes and exhale her exasperation, but he swooped down and caught her mouth with his, silencing her and stunning her with the power he had over her as their lips meshed.
He wasted no time with gentleness or sweetness. Instead, his lips moved against her hard and demanding, pressing and pushing and tasting almost as though he’d been famished for her and now couldn’t get his fill. Which wasn’t true, but the thought brought her some solace.
As with the other kisses they’d shared, her whole body blazed to life and seemed to beg for more of him, more of his touch, more of his passion. Her arms found their way around his neck, and he lifted her just slightly, so that she was half sitting on his lap.
Oh my. She was being indecent. Especially in front of the other guests. But her body was fully awake now to a need for Beckett that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. Except that was all she could give him here and now.
Whistles rose into the air along with clapping.
“?Muy caliente!” someone called.
At that, Beckett broke the kiss as swiftly as he’d started it, and he tossed the other men another grin. “That’s how it’s done, boys.”
Hyacinth ducked her head. The kiss had been very hot, and she was embarrassed to admit she hadn’t wanted it to stop. Even so, she removed her arms from around Beckett’s neck and started to push away from him.
He snaked an arm around her waist and drew her back, this time onto his lap more fully. Before she could make him release her, he bent and pressed a kiss to her neck, next to the base of her shoulder, then to her collarbone.
She nearly groaned aloud with each touch of his lips, but instead, she bit back the sound and dug her fingers into his shirt.
They might not love each other or have a lasting marriage, but they did share this attraction that was exciting and exhilarating, stirring inside her abdomen an intense need for Beckett that she didn’t understand.
As he placed another kiss onto her cheek, she caught Sunshine watching them, her eyes filled with knowing. She glanced over at Rodrigo, and the two exchanged a hopeful look.
Did they think this display meant Beckett wanted to make a go of their marriage, that he would live on the ranch, procreate with her, and fulfill Sargeant’s requirements?
If so, they would be sorely disappointed. Beckett had no trouble kissing and being passionate with her. But that didn’t mean he was ready to commit to forever or even just the five years needed to get the ranch.
Beckett’s arm around her remained firm, as though he had no intention of letting her leave his lap, and his other hand slid up her back, drawing lazy circles that sent tingles through her.
In spite of his inability to commit to marriage, she didn’t want to return to her chair. She wanted to spend the rest of the night right here with her body pressed to his, his warm breath brushing her skin, and his fingers roaming wherever they wanted.
However, her common sense told her to do so would be impolite, even scandalous. With a strength that defied the desires that were raging through her, she pushed against Beckett and squirmed for him to release her.
His fingers tightened for just a moment, then he gentled his hold and lifted his hands away as she returned to her chair. Because in the end, Beckett had been raised to be a gentleman. That was becoming clearer the longer she was with Sunshine at the Double T.
Thankfully, Beckett was less moody the rest of the evening.
He didn’t touch her again, but she was aware of his every move—when he shifted in his chair, took a sip from his goblet, tapped his fingers on the table, or even exhaled a long breath.
She guessed their kiss had somehow awakened her body to his, as it had after previous kisses, maybe even more so.
Maybe that was what happened with desire.
Once it was awakened, it couldn’t go back into hibernation.
It was loose and hungry and ready to be fed.
From what she was beginning to experience for herself and what she’d witnessed between Vi and Sterling, desire was never truly sated and kept one begging for more.
Regardless, she couldn’t allow for more between her and Beckett.
She absolutely couldn’t let herself beg him for more—not when he’d talked about putting an end to their marriage.
She had to keep her desire in check, had to stay strong even though a part of her was weak when it came to resisting him.
When the feast finally came to a close, they stood beside Sunshine on the front portico and said goodnight to their guests.
As they did so, Beckett politely placed a hand on the small of Hyacinth’s back.
She was conscious of each of his fingers pressing into her, and when he pulled his hand away, she was conscious again of the absence of his touch.
When the last of the guests walked away, a figure stepped out of the shadows of the nearby covered hallway.
Beckett’s hand went to his revolver, but as soon as the man walked into the light radiating from the sconces on either side of the front door, Beckett dropped his hand and his coat fell back into place.
“Jameson?” Beckett descended the wide steps toward the fellow. “Was wondering when I’d see you.”
Jameson. The name was familiar.
Attired in trousers with chaps and a flannel shirt with a bandanna and cowboy hat, the young man approached Beckett. The distinctive swagger, the rugged, muscular frame, the good-looking and strong features, and the light-brown hair and eyes—those belonged to Sterling and the other Noble men.
Was this Sterling’s brother Jameson, who had run away from home and whom no one had heard from in almost a year?