“I’m taking your man card.” Her eyes flashed over him. “If you still even have it.”
Thatcher turned toward me. “You don’t need to get laid,” he said. “Maybe you need the opposite. You need distance. Take a break from him. Then you’ll see if you miss him.”
“That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard,” Gabi said. “Don’t listen to Thatcher. Go over to his house and jump his bones.”
“He’s in New York.”
“That’s a problem.”
“That’s perfect,” Thatcher insisted. “Take a breather.” He nodded for emphasis. “Everything will become clear.”
I closed my eyes with a sigh and leaned my head back against the booth. I had a strong feeling sex with Beckett was only going to make it harder to deny him. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to resist him, but I was too scared to find out. My heart might not be able to take it.
“You should go to Kennedy’s next yoga retreat.” Thatcher said. “Get away for the weekend.”
“After you bone him,” Gabi said.
Thatcher sighed loudly. “Whatever you do, don’t run away.”
“I’m not running away.”
Thatcher covered my hand with his and squeezed. “You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.” He transferred his attention to Gabi. “Now, can we talk about you, Mrs. Salinger? How’s your love life?”
It was Gabi’s turn to squirm, and I sat back to watch.
Chapter 25
A few days later, I let myself into Beckett’s house to walk Aslan. As soon as I walked into the house, Aslan bounded across the floor. He skidded to a halt just shy of my ankles.
I bent down to pet him. “What are you doing on the loose?” I straightened and walked through the foyer into the white living room. One glance told me that Aslan had behaved himself. The only color in the room was in the paintings hanging on the walls.
Although everything was in place, I sensed something different. My heart froze and then tripped to life as I noticed Beckett’s briefcase on the kitchen counter. A shiver ran down my spine as I spotted his camel-hair coat tossed over a stool.
I dropped my purse and hurried down the hall. Aslan chased me, then ran ahead of me to the staircase leading down to Beckett’s bedroom. Aslan leaped down the stairs two at a time; I followed on his heels.
Chills danced along my skin as I heard the low murmur of Beckett’s voice.
Did he have on a suit? Or maybe he was wearing faded jeans and one of those insanely soft sweaters? I thought about pressing my cheek to his chest and inhaling his spicy scent.
I didn’t care what he was doing. I only wanted to see him, to throw my arms around him, to tell him…
Beckett’s laugh sounded low and sensual. My belly tightened and my sex throbbed, humming in anticipation of his hands on me.
But first, we needed to talk.
I stepped into his room and saw Beckett sitting at his desk with his phone to his ear. He removed his glasses and placed them on his desk in what had become a familiar gesture, and my pulse raced.
I stood watching him, frozen. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes raked from the top of his head over his broad shoulders. Suddenly, he spun around in his chair, squinting across the room.
He saw it was me, and his face changed. His mouth went from stern to smiling. His dimples popped, and my body ached for him.
“I’ll call you back,” Beckett said into the phone.
Without waiting for an answer, he tapped the screen and tossed the phone to the desk. He grabbed his glasses and set them on his face as he rose from the chair. His smile grew as his eyes blazed over me, devouring me like a long-awaited new release.
Any other man would have looked tired and rumpled after a long day of traveling, but not Beckett. Square jaw, thick hair styled to perfection—Beckett looked like a magazine ad for men’s cologne. The scent would be cedar, and spice, and very, very expensive.
His energy filled the room, enveloping me in its sizzling embrace. His smile curved as he finished his slow perusal of my appearance. He looked gorgeous and sexy and… hungry.
