28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dallas
When Elliott pulls up to the mansion right before Beck does, I can’t help but feel a wisp of disappointment.
It’s a good thing he’s here, I tell myself. We cannot be tempted to kiss in the mansion right now. My head is so full of wedding details that I can’t trust myself to make sane decisions. And we cannot have a repeat of the Clancy-Bozzelli wedding debacle. Elliott around as a makeshift, unknowing chaperone will only help.
I’m a bit disappointed, though. If for no other reason than for Beck and me to talk about what happened in his kitchen the other night—a.k.a. the best, most intense kissing of my life.
But seeing Elliott is a good reminder that I’m here to do a job: get every last thing done before the wedding on Friday.
Opening the double doors in the front, I’m hit with the new-build scent of wood and varnish—of all the promise that this venue holds.
Elliott’s caught up to me. “This place is looking good,” he croons. “I gotta show Portia.”
I’ve already got my tablet out, looking over my tasks of things to do this evening. And no, I didn’t write down “Kiss Beck,” but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it.
Elliott heads to the back of the house and soon, Beck pulls up in his truck and he joins me in the grand entry, his eyes flitting around briefly in a sign of approval of the space.
“Elliott’s here to put up the bathroom mirror and anything else I need him to do,” I tell him.
“Yep,” Elliott says, walking in and crossing his arms over his chest, surveying the room as only a general contractor can. Beck does it, too, and I’m imagining they aren’t thinking of the finishes like I am—the lush, low profile verdant-green velvet sofas, the botanical printed curtains, the built-in floor-to-ceiling cabinetry with perfectly placed pottery and books in calming yellow and avocado.
They’re probably thinking about all the underbelly stuff like wiring and plumbing.
As if on cue, Beck proves me right. “Electricians came this morning. Fixed the faulty outlet. And HVAC came by, too. They had to run some tests on the A/C.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, pushing past them, my Keds squeaking on the new floor. Yes, I’m wearing Keds on the job, and I don’t hate it. I don’t want to run the risk of scuffing the floors with heels. Besides, it’s refreshing to not have to be terrified for life and limb while I’m scurrying about.
And it’s more than that. Beck giving me permission to let loose and abandon the heels sometimes has helped.
I catch a glimpse of Beck looking at me, taking in my bare legs, meeting my gaze with a blip of communication. That’s all I need right now. There’s no time for a deep dive on him and me. But that look? It can sustain me for a little while longer.
*****
Only an hour into the staging and I get a call from Kaia. Her first question is a very loud, “How’s Beck?”
Thankfully, I’m out at my car, getting some more wickless candles out of my trunk. “Shh!” I glance around to make sure the Billingsley brothers aren’t lurking nearby. When I see that it’s safe, I smile. “He’s very well.”
“Has he kissed your face off yet?”
“Well—”
She screams through the phone, causing static that kills my ear. I pull the phone away from me, but I can still hear her loud and clear. “Dallas, I am so happy you’ve progressed to another level with him. This is a temporary fling, though, right? I swear if you marry him and leave me high and dry with GiGi, I’ll never forgive you!”
An undercurrent of unease slides through me. “Marry him? You’ve skipped a few steps there. And are you forgetting The Plan ? I’m not letting that go, Kaia.” I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder and heft a large box out of the trunk.
“I can tell you really like him.” Kaia’s voice falters.
“I do,” I answer. “That doesn’t mean I’m staying in Willow Cove.”
I’m not ready to say this to Kaia or anyone else yet, but I love it here. I’m invested in Leo and his friends and wouldn’t mind going to his beach volleyball games for years to come. I want to see how the new wing for the YMCA turns out. Plus, the brides I’ve been working with here are down-to-Earth, enjoyable to work with.
And of course, Beck’s in Willow Cove.
I’ve reached the double doors to the mansion and my big box of candles has to shift to my hip so I can open them.
Right now, Mayor Dobbs’s good word to Shoshana feels secondary—less important than it was. All I can think about is Beck.
He and Elliott are in the kitchen, and I set the box on the island. “I gotta go,” I tell her.
Kaia sighs. “Well, you haven’t given me graphic details of your sordid night with Beck yet, but if you must go, you must.”
“Sor—” I stop myself. Beck and Elliott do not need to hear me say the word “sordid.” “You have a very active imagination.” I bite down on my bottom lip. “Okay, bye.”
The rest of the night, the responsible part of me is glad Elliott stays and helps. The part of me that wants to kiss Beck again? Downright frustrated.
It’s nearly ten when I’ve finished categorizing all the bins with the things I can’t set up yet because they’ll be outside. Doesn’t mean I haven’t labeled and color coordinated them within an inch of their lives.
Beck and Elliott come back into the living room. “We finished the towel rack in the bathroom. I think it’s safe to say that room is a hundred percent done,” Beck says, his eyes lined with dark smudges.
“You look worn out,” I say.
“I would say the same to you, but in reality, you look as pretty as you always do.”
Elliott is holding back a smile, his gaze on the floor. Awkward! The tips of his ears even turn red.
“How’s Leo?” I ask Beck, hoping for a shift in the attention.
“He’s got another date to Prom. You still able to be my partner for the Prom dinner here tomorrow night?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Uh. I’ll leave you guys to it.” And before we can respond, Elliott grabs his keys off the counter and carries his toolbox with him out the door.
“He sure beelined it out of here,” I say.
“He said earlier he was going to meet up with Portia.”
“Hmm. But his leaving right now didn’t have anything to do with what you said?” I ask, taking a step towards him. Oh, how easy it would be to start kissing him, right here, right now.
“If you’re saying he felt like a third wheel, then, yes.”
I click my tongue. “Oh my goodness, Mr. Beck Billingsley. You manipulated your brother into leaving.”
He snorts. “I can’t believe it actually worked.”
I tilt my head to the side. “You were smooth.”
He grasps my waist. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Are you sorry he left?”
“No.” I trap my lip between my teeth. He drags me closer.
He traces my top lip with the tip of his finger. “Hey, I know we haven’t really talked about what’s going on here.”
I’m so distracted by the sear against my lip that I can’t think how to respond. Finally, I open my mouth to speak. “Beck, I like you. I really like you.”
He kisses my jaw, and that’s when I remember. “What about your jaw?”
“It didn’t stop me from enjoying your lips the other night.”
“No, it did not.” I swallow hard as his mouth trails up to just below my ear, placing feathery kisses that are driving me wild.
I bring my hand up to trail it gently along his jaw. “It still feels a little swollen.”
“It’s not. And Dallas?”
“Hmm?”
“I really, really like you. But you have a five-year plan and I’m not in it.”
I ease my cheek away from his lips and look him in the eyes. “Can we talk about this later?”
His gaze darkens and I feel like he’s going to stop, that he’s going to step away from me.
Panic flits through me. I don’t want him to misunderstand. “It’s just that…I want to give this conversation the attention it needs, but with the first wedding nearly here—" I bite my lip, my thoughts a torrent of emotions.
“I guess we’ll have to,” he says. “With all that’s going on.”
I don’t want to leave Willow Cove if it means leaving him.
He must sense the shift of revelation inside of me because he answers it with an urgent, flooding kiss.