Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Clara
“You’re distracted today,” Margot said as she closed the register drawer. “What’s up?”
I didn’t know how to answer her. The conversation with Beckett last night had started off just like any other conversation we’ve had over the last twenty years. But something had shifted. His muttered response to Thatcher’s teasing comment was burned into my brain. “Don’t I know it.”
Four words that could change everything.
“Clara?” Margot’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Again.
“Sorry. I didn’t sleep that well.” Not a lie, but also not the entire truth. Beckett’s words had played over and over in my head all night. He’d kept his distance for the rest of the party.
Jack, the new veterinarian, offered to get me a drink. We’d broken away from the group that included Thatcher and Beckett and chatted for a little while. He was friendly, handsome, but I kept finding myself looking for Beckett in the crowd.
I doubted Beckett harbored some kind of romantic feelings for me. For over a decade, we’ve told people that we’re just friends. Best friends, yes, but friends. Not lovers, not a couple. Friends. That’s it.
What if that wasn’t it?
I’m not blind – Beckett has always been easy on the eyes. His height and dark green eyes had always been part of his attractiveness, but then he’d fully grown into his six foot four inches, and his shoulders had broadened as he added muscle from working on his family’s ranch.
Besides, I’d been secretly in love with him since we were teenagers. He was always there when I needed him, a steady presence I could count on, from math homework in high school to giving me a shoulder to cry on when a date or boyfriend broke my heart.
He knew how to distract me when I would overthink something and catastrophize any situation. Beckett had been the one to give me the extra push I needed to take over the boutique in the first place, back when Gertie wanted to retire and move somewhere warm.
Beckett had also stayed with me for two weeks after my parents died in a car accident, just over ten years ago.
My extended family had all gone back to their lives shortly after the funeral, but Beckett had essentially moved in to my apartment for those two weeks.
He did almost everything for me, even went so far as to sit against the wall in the bathroom while I showered because I was scared to be alone.
I’d come close to confessing my feelings back then, but I couldn’t handle the possibility of driving him away so soon after losing my parents. I’d kept my secret to myself.
In the end, not knowing what he meant was going to drive me crazy. I needed to talk to him.
And I needed to do it before I lost my nerve.
Normally, I hated to leave the store during our open hours, even when one of my employees was here, but …
I turned to my favorite employee and newest friend. “Would you mind if I ran out for a bit?”
Margot raised a brow. “Nope. Besides, Charlene will be here soon.”
“Thanks. I’ll get drinks on my way back.” I grabbed my bag and keys from the office and left.
The drive out to Hearthstone Lodge and Ranch, the Ashland family’s business and land, would only take fifteen minutes, tops.
No matter what happened, I needed to know if Beckett felt any hint of what I do.
Maybe it was stupid to risk our lifelong friendship, but if we couldn’t handle an awkward conversation as adults, then we had bigger problems.
Beckett
I couldn’t focus on the screen in front of me, a headache forming already.
I’d spent the rest of the party miserable. I’d come so damn close to asking her out, only for Thatcher to interrupt. And seeing her chatting and laughing with Jack had been difficult.
Sure, I’d never liked any of the idiots she dated, but I also hadn’t fessed up my own feelings for her. I knew better. She’d had enough people leave or let her down, and while her parents weren’t awful they also weren’t super involved, and I wasn’t going to add my name to that list.
Still, the thought of Clara with anyone else was a stone on my chest.
So, I did what I always do at parties –- I stayed out of every conversation unless asked a direct question.
So why the hell did I mutter to the sky about being with Clara? Putting aside the fact that she was my best friend, Clara Whitlock was out of my league. Anyone who said otherwise was fucking blind.
Our friendship spanned decades, since early elementary school. We climbed trees together, learned how to ride bikes and horses together, and became each other’s confidant. I knew I was in love with her when we were sixteen, but I’d probably fallen long before that.
Almost two decades later and I still haven’t told her.
Clara’s never been interested in anything other than being my friend. It’d be devastating to lose her friendship, her trust. The last thing she needed was for me to hit on her. No, if she ever wanted more, she’d tell me. I refuse to be another dude who hits on her or tries to get in her pants.
I’d spent two weeks taking care of her after her parents died. She’d fallen asleep in my arms more than once, and I’d whispered my love for her to the dark only after I was certain she wasn’t awake.
No, I’m the guy she comes to for safety – she knows I won’t make a move. Nope. Not me. Even if it’s gotten harder to not touch her or be with her. I won’t make her lose her sense of comfort to appease my longing.
Instead, I keep a small distance when we’re out with friends, listen to her voice when she tells me about her day and customers or about her newest book boyfriend, bring her favorite drink when I’m in town running errands for the ranch, and provide a shoulder to lean or cry on when she needs it.
It was easier when we were younger, and when we spent a few years apart at different colleges; there were more distractions. Lately, though, it’s been harder, as if something in my chest is fraying at the edges.
In an effort to keep myself busy, I’ve thrown my energy into our family business, Hearthstone Lodge and Ranch.
My part of it, at least. After a few rough years due to economic downturns and bad weather, bookings to the Lodge had been slow, and not as many families could afford riding lessons these days.
The money set aside during previous profitable years had started to thin.
Our parents were ready to retire. They had earned it as far as I and my brothers were concerned.
Thatch, Noah, and I had spent months deciding on what we each wanted, for the business but also for ourselves.
We decided our collective goal was to make each arm of the business independently profitable.
Things would be tight for a bit, but with a few creative ideas, a lot of grit, and some belt tightening, we should be okay.
“Morning,” Noah said as he came into the small room off the kitchen of our parent’s house, mug of coffee in hand.
We didn’t use the space as a true office for the various branches of the business, but the study had a large built in bookcase along one wall, and two desks that we kept mostly clear so we could easily come and go.
The main office was built into the side of the barn and stables, which Dad had designed and built when he remodeled the entire structure a few years back.
All three of us made a point to stop in and say hi to our parents in the morning and often used the study to make calls or have an informal meeting.
“Morning.” My response was more of a grumble than I intended. I needed to get my shit together.
“You left early last night.” Noah’s innocent statement was anything but. As the youngest, and Ma’s favorite, Noah had learned very early on that he could get away with a lot more than Thatch or I could.
“I wanted to get an early start this morning.”
“Mhm, and Clara was getting attention from Jack.”
I ignored the bait. Noah noticed more than was good for him – or me. Time for a subject change.
“We need to change up our marketing for the riding lessons and the trails geared to tourists. Maybe see if we can find and bring on someone who can help us branch out into equine therapy one or two days a week.”
Noah’s smirk disappeared and his expression shifted into serious contemplation.
“Dad won’t like it.”
I stopped my shrug. “Dad is almost fully retired and told us to take over. So, let’s take over.”
After a few more seconds, Noah nodded. “Okay, I’ll see if Thatch has any ideas or might know someone and then put together some different marketing ideas.”
“Thanks.” I stood and closed my laptop screen, glad Noah had an interest and talent for marketing. I hated it, personally. “I’m going to the stables. I’ll be back later.”
Noah waved in my general direction, his head already bent over paper while his own laptop booted up.
He and Thatch would be able to work together to find what we needed; I wasn’t worried.
When we first sat down to figure out how to handle things going forward, Noah had requested to handle the Lodge branch of things, the cornerstone of the Ashland legacy.
I should have been less surprised, but he said he had a vision and Thatch and I didn’t argue.
Thatch would handle riding lessons, and hopefully an equine therapy program.
He and I shared the responsibility of the horses, with help from a couple of ranch hands and local 4H teens, but I handled our trail rides and the finances.
The warm June air and sound of birds were a balm. It’d be July in a little over a week, and I knew the true heat was coming. Thankfully, It didn’t take long to walk from the house to the stables.
I stopped short just outside the main door, struck dumb.
Clara.
Her brown hair was unbound and fell in waves around her shoulders. I ached to run my fingers through it, to wrap it around my fist and tug her head back so I could explore the column of her throat with my mouth and teeth.
Get your shit together.
The blue sundress that hugged every dip and curve of her body was going to be the death of me. She was a vision – my salvation and damnation in one.
I approached slowly, almost afraid that if I moved too fast she’d spook.
“Hi, Beck.” Her voice was soft, lovely. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was nervous. But she wasn’t one for nerves. It was why she was a debate champion in high school.
“Morning.” My boots crunched the dirt until I stopped a foot away from Clara.
It took everything in me not to pull her into my arms; the need to feel her in my arms was stealing every ounce of concentration.
“You–” I choked on what to say – something, anything was better than the silence between us.
We’d never had awkwardness between us, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen now.
Clearing my throat, I tried again. “You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks reddened.
My traitor of a cock pulsed in my jeans.
“Thanks, it has pockets.” She slid her hands into the folds of the dress as if to prove it, a grin brightening her expression.
“Not to take away from the dress or the pockets, but is there a reason you’re wearing it in the stables near horses and …” I waved my hand in the general direction of the stables behind her. I edged closer as I spoke but kept from reaching an arm around her waist.
She put her hands behind her back. I bit back a groan as the movement only served to emphasize the curve of her breasts in that dress. My cock strained against my clothes. I was an asshole, but I couldn’t stop myself from stepping just a little closer to her.
She closed the small gap between us until she had to tilt her head back to look up at me and my hands settled on her waist automatically.
Fuck, but she was beautiful. Full lips, long lashes, and honey brown eyes that held a hint of mischief and … hope, or nerves.
“Do you like it?”
I didn’t know what else to say except, “Yes, I do.”
She laid one hand on my chest, over my heart. There was no hiding the erratic rhythm, the proof of my desperate need for her.
“Beckett, did you mean what you said to Thatch last night?” That was hope in her eyes.
Shit. Had she heard me? “I’m trying to follow but … can you be more specific?”
Her face fell. “Oh, well, if you don’t remember, then don’t worry about it.” She started to step back, but I gripped just tight enough to hold her in place.
“You mean when he came out onto the patio and told us to get inside?”
She nodded, and it looked like she was holding back tears. Fuck, I was an asshole. “You said something under your breath as I walked by. Did you mean it?”
She had heard me.
I didn’t know how to answer her now. What if she felt like I’d betrayed her, our friendship, this entire time? There was a staggering amount of pain that hit me in the chest at the idea.
“Clara, I’m sorry if I upset you, I –”
Her breath hitched. And those were tears in her eyes.
“No, no, it’s – it’s fine.” She kept shaking her head and backed out of my arms. “I must not have heard you correctly. Don’t even worry about it.
” She turned to leave, but there was something wrong.
She wouldn’t have come all the way to the ranch to talk to me about this unless it was important to her.
I grabbed her wrist to keep her with me. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing, you’re not missing anything. Thatcher made a snide comment, and I thought you said something, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, but I must be wrong. I didn’t mean to interrupt your morning. I’ll go.” She slipped out of my hold and started to walk away.
It took three heartbeats to hear and process what she said, realize what it meant, mentally shuffle through and reject all hesitations, and decide between now or never.
Now.
“Clara,” I called as I closed the distance she kept trying to put between us. “Wait, please.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t –”
I grabbed her wrist and spun her against me. She smelled like lilac and sunshine, and her eyes were wide. “Are you asking about Thatcher’s comment that we should just get together?”
I watched her throat as she swallowed before she answered with a nod.
“And what I said after that?”
Another nod.
“Don’t I know it.” I leaned down and pressed my lips against the top of her head.
Clara looked up at me, hope and fear mixing in her brown eyes. “Do you?”
Fuck it.
“Yes,” I whispered before I finally claimed her mouth.