“In Great Falls, like me. They’re happy, good people. They love me but we’re not close like you guys. They raised me to live my own life.” She’d always thought it was because they wanted her to have her own sense of self, but seeing Beckett with his family made her wonder if it was more that they didn’t want to let her in, let her be a part of what they considered theirs. The thought hurt.
His brows moved together. “That sucks.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine. I have Rylee and she’s got a great big family that she shares.”
“I’m glad you have that.”
She flipped a card and groaned when a three showed. This wasn’t working out in her favor even with the advantage.
Beckett’s fingers danced along the back of her neck, drifting aimlessly while inciting little fires along her skin. “What’s your dream?”
Her pulse stuttered. She’d been so focused on her goals, on checking things off her list, she hadn’t actually thought about her dreams. When she was little, she always made the same wish on her birthday cake candles: for someone to love her like her parents loved each other. But now, she wondered if they were too consumed in themselves. She hadn’t considered that before this trip. They all got caught up in their own lives, so Presley assumed it was normal. But Beckett, Jill, and Gray had their own lives and yet still found time and room for each other.
She picked up Beckett’s hand and told him the truth. “To be happy.” She wasn’t entirely sure why her throat felt tight.
He flipped over a ten, then slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
“Is this…” She gestured between them with her free hand. Shedidn’t have words to describe what she was feeling, so if he felt it, he’d know. “Have you ever… before…” She didn’t know how to ask.
Beckett released her, picked up the cards, and stacked them on the table. Then he turned so he was facing her, staring straight into her eyes like she was the only thing he could see.
“Is this normal for me? Have I felt this way?” His brows rose.
A breath of relief whooshed from her lungs.Yes.
He took both her hands. “No. Nothing like this, Presley. It might break my heart a little when you leave but I’ve never wanted anyone to be my fake girlfriend more than you.”
She laughed, appreciating the way he tried to lighten the moment but kept it real. Her heart might break more than a little, but he didn’t need to know that. She was a big girl and could deal with the fallout later.
“This isn’t typical for me either. I’m not generally a big fan of spontaneity,” she said, getting up to move so she could reposition herself, this time on his lap, her legs on either side of him. “But besides being for a good cause…”
His hands gripped her hips. She loved the feel of it. Like they were fused together or he didn’t want to let go. “Protecting me?”
She nodded, kissed his chin. “Yes. Aside from that goal, this feels right. In a way nothing has for so long. Maybe I was meant to come here on my own.”
He nodded, his fingers kneading. “If for no other reason, to guard my virtue.”
When was the last time she had laughed this much? She couldn’t remember. Presley ran her fingers through the sides of his hair. “Aw. Poor Hot Mountain Man is afraid of a cougar.”
He snorted with laughter. “I don’t have a lot of experience with the breed. Best to stay close during dinner. And it’s good you’re staying here again, in case any of them get loose, wander the grounds.”
She lowered her mouth, whispering against his, “I can do that. I’m very good at indoor pursuits.”
One hand moved up into her hair, pulling her so close their mouths touched when he spoke against it. “Then we’re a perfect match.”
For now.She pushed that thought away. She’d tried the whole planning-it-out thing. For now,rightnow felt great.
Twenty-One
Beckett had approximately zero seconds to feel guilty about Jilly calling Presley his girlfriend once they entered the main lodge. Like homing pigeons, two of the three women spotted him and immediately began throwing out comments about where he could sit.
He wanted to turn around and head back to his place, but that seemed cowardly. He may have gripped Presley’s hand a little tight though, if her amused smile was any indication.
Jill, earning sister bonus points, announced dinner as soon as she noticed the mother trying to shoo Morgan to the end of the table so Beckett could have that seat. When he sat, Chantel moved beside him, and if Presley hadn’t been glued to his side, he had no doubt Gabby would have parked herself in that chair. Instead, she sat directly across from him and stared like he was ice cream on a sickeningly hot day. Was this how women felt? The thought that anyone ever made his sister or Presley feel this… objectified sat like cement in his gut.
Libby sat next to her sister, arguing across the table with Morgan about whether Pink Floyd or Fleetwood Mac was the more influential band on today’s youth. Presley picked up her napkin, laid it in her lap. Beckett sent her an appreciative gaze. God, there was something about this woman he’d never felt before. Looking at her was like fishing on a perfect day, an awesome bike ride, a cold beer at the end of the night before crawling between the sheets. Shecalmedhim. Made him feel a sense of ease with just a glance, a smile, a touch. Yeah, she was pretty. More than. It didn’t seem like a strong enough word to describe her, and it damn sure didn’t explain the clutch in his chest he felt sittingnext to her. “Pretty” didn’t accurately convey the curve of her lips when she almost smiled, the way her lashes stretched impossibly long and her skin flushed when she was happy.
“What?” she whispered, making him realize he was staring.
