Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Clara
The party had been nearly in full swing when Beckett and I walked up the path from his cabin almost three hours ago.
The décor was simple, mostly fresh cut flowers, and bunches of balloons gathered together in various spots in the main lobby and patio.
The party was always fun, but the main attraction was the food and atmosphere.
His mother had never been one for ostentatious displays, preferring instead to focus on the things that brought people together: food, family, friendship, and community.
Not many people had noticed us at first – it wasn’t unusual for us to arrive together. The whispers hadn’t started until we’d done a round of greeting friends, neighbors, and the other local business owners.
I’d stayed with Beckett instead of moving off into the party during some of the business talk. People tended to forget I had taken over the boutique store from the previous owner and was in fact part of the business community in Foxhollow Ridge.
Though, his hand resting possessively on my lower back garnered the most attention from the women at the party.
If he’d been any other man, the possessive grip would have pissed me off.
Instead, his touch steadied me. He’d always been my anchor, keeping me from losing myself in whatever mental or emotional storm my brain conjured.
I tried not to worry about the whispers, but it wasn’t until Beckett’s parents found us that my anxiety eased.
“Clara!” Beckett’s mother, Nora, called from a few feet away. She had a sparkle in her eye as she walked over, clocking where Beckett’s hand rested.
“Mrs. Ashland, hello. As always, the party is incredible.” She and the staff had worked together for months to put everything together.
Nora tutted and pulled me into a warm embrace. “Call me Nora, sweetheart. You’ve always been and will always be family, my dear.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and I whispered a soft, “Thank you,” before she moved to give her son a kiss on his cheek. He had to bend in order for her to reach, and it would have been comical if it weren’t so sweet.
His father, Thomas, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, his arm bracing around my back for a second. “My wife is better with words, but I am glad the two of you finally saw what we’ve always known.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ashland.”
Thomas gripped Beckett’s hand and reminded him to take care of me. I was going to start crying soon, if I didn’t get a breather.
Beckett’s family had always welcomed me into their home, and the entire group of them had become a sort of surrogate family for me, but I hadn’t expected them to be this magnanimous about our relationship changing.
It was a relief and a weight off my heart to know that his parents weren’t upset that the relationship between me and Beckett had evolved.
Thankfully his parents were called away by another guest, and we had a moment alone.
Beckett tipped his head close to my ear. “Do you feel better?”
As emotional as I was, I did, actually. I nodded in answer as someone else called for Beckett’s attention. He kissed my temple, and with his hand on my lower back, guided us to whoever wanted to chat.
A little bit later, Beckett gracefully extracted us from a conversation with Jim Turner of Turner Timber Co., right as Thatcher scooped me into a hug with a whoop of, “Finally!” and causing Beckett to drop his hand from my back.
Thatcher spun us once, and I laughed at his enthusiasm. “Put me down, you weirdo.”
He gave me a gentle squeeze as he did and whispered, “I’m so happy for you two. It’s about time.”
“Thanks.” I squeezed him back. Thatcher was one of my favorite people – even when he’d gone through a phase of pulling at my ponytail for an entire summer. It would make me shriek and then Beckett would chase Thatcher off.
The realization struck me, and I stepped back into Beckett’s arms. “How long have you suspected?”
Thatcher only winked at me and gripped Beckett’s shoulder. “Happy for you, Becks. Good job not fucking it up.”
“And we’re going to warn you now,” Noah, the youngest of them, appeared out of the crowd. “If you hurt her or break her heart, we’ll kick your ass.” He gave his oldest brother a shit-eating grin before he pulled me into a hug.
“So much for brotherly loyalty,” Beckett muttered.
Thatcher shrugged. Noah let me go and said, “She’s always been a sister to me and Thatch, and you’re not the first guy we’ve threatened on her behalf.”
“What?” My voice was almost a shriek as I whirled on Noah. Beckett laughed, the rumble vibrating against my back.
Thatcher said, “Why do you think that guy you brought to the party a few years ago left without saying anything?”
I had no words. That guy, Charlie, had left me at the party, and then never called me again. I’d been so confused and hurt.
Anger heated my skin and I stepped away from Beckett. “You assholes. I was upset for weeks. Why would you – how could you – I … Oh, I am so mad at you!”
“Woah. No, no, Clara,” Thatcher started, clearly surprised at my reaction.
Noah stepped in, a hand against Thatcher’s chest. “Clara, he was bragging to a group of us about how he landed you and planned to get you to sleep with him that night. I won’t repeat what he said because it was gross as hell.
He didn’t know who Thatch and I were and what you mean to us.
We threw him out of the party and told him where he’d end up if we found out he talked to you ever again. ”
My anger deflated. Oh. Well, ew. “You should have told me.”
“Maybe. But we did tell Beckett.”
I looked up at him. He’d been silent the entire conversation, letting me handle the revelation. “You knew?”
He nodded. “It’s why I was ready with ice cream when I drove you home that night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Beckett stepped in front of me, blocking his bothers and giving me privacy from the rest of the party, the wall at my back. He held my gaze, a fierce protectiveness mixed with … rage, in his eyes.
“Because I knew it would hurt you more to know someone you trusted spoke that way about you behind your back. I didn’t want you to go through that. And because it was all I could do to not hunt him down and make good on the threat my brothers made.”
He brushed some loose strands away from my face and tucked them behind my ear.
“He wasn’t worth any of your tears and I wasn’t about to give you another reason to cry or make you doubt your judgment.
I’m sorry if you think it was the wrong call, but I’d do it again if it protected you from pain. ” His voice was quiet, but sincere.
I took a moment to breathe and sort through my feelings and decide what it all really meant.
These men had all, at one point or another, warned or threatened the guys I dated.
An outdated way of watching out for me. They’d done the same thing with bullies in middle and high school.
Thatcher and Noah had even picked me up from an awful date one night when Beckett had been sick with the flu.
The laughter and chatter of everyone else at the party surrounded us, but Beckett was a solid barrier that allowed me to process everything.
I looked up at him, my anger dissipating into the air.
“As angry as I am they did that and that you didn’t tell me the truth, I’m also grateful for the interference.” I leaned my forehead against his chest and embraced the warmth of Beckett as he pulled me in for a hug.
Beckett sounded surprised as he asked, “You really didn’t know Thatch and Noah looked out for you, too?”
I shook my head. “Not to the extent they threatened to bury a guy in the back forty for being a creep.”
“They’re pains in the ass most of the time, but they have always protected you. Thatcher actually warned me not to hurt you.”
I couldn’t stop the few tears that fell. I wiped them away quickly. “Really?”
“Yeah. I half-expected him to remind me about his aim.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Isn’t he a terrible shot?”
Beckett shrugged. “Not sure that’d matter.”
There wasn’t really a reason to be angry – especially not after all the time had passed. Deciding to let it go, I took a deep breath and held it for six seconds before releasing it in a slow exhale. “Let’s get back to the party.”
Beckett kissed my forehead and stepped to the side as he placed his hand on my lower back once again. Steady, calm, and … mine.