She nodded. “And you take him to Crinkle’s every week?”
He shut the door behind them. “It’s a comic book store at the other end of town.”
He shrugged it off like it didn’t say anything about the kind of man he was. Like the fact that she was now standing in his very cozy and charming home that he rarely got to use didn’t show his family loyalty in a way words couldn’t. Beckett Keller was a really good man.
“Adam’s grandma was a teacher. She taught all of us. Mrs. Carmichael expects the town to keep an eye on him without getting in the way of his independence. It was a hard loss for everyone.” Beckett started unloading their takeout onto a tall countertop that separated the living area from the kitchen.
“I met Mrs. Carmichael today. At the General Store,” Presley said, her gaze traveling over the room, taking it all in.
She loved seeing a person in their own space. The large, open room, which had the living, kitchen, and dining all in one, had two hallways, one on either side of the living area. The smell of burgers and fries made her mouth water.
“If you spend any time in Smile, you’ll meet a lot of people. They’re a friendly bunch.”
Presley looked at him. “They certainly are.” She continued to wander, running her fingers over the spines of his Grisham novels. “I like your place.”
“Thanks. I do, too. Tell me about some of the people in your life,” he said, bringing over two plates full of fries and mile-high burgers. Setting them on his coffee table, he came up behind her at the bookshelf, pressed a kiss to her cheek. God, she loved those random touches, kisses, moments. “Pop, beer, or wine?”
“Pop is good.”
They were settled and partway through the meal when he reminded her she hadn’t answered his request.
“So? You have your friend Rylee. What does she do?”
“She’s a chef. She works at this ultra-fancy downtown restaurant that is booked months out.”
“Does she try out recipes on you? I could be a best friend to someone who needs a taste tester,” he said, then popped a fry in his mouth.
Presley finished chewing. “Sometimes. But not a lot. Honestly, when we get together, which is usually every week to binge whatever series we’re watching, we get copious amounts of junk food.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
She pointed to the hallway right of the kitchen. “What’s down there?”
He looked over his shoulder as if he didn’t know what she might be pointing at. “Bedroom, closets, half bath.” He pointed to the other side of the room. “That way is the primary bedroom, en suite, and a… spare room.”
Presley set her plate on the table. “I’m full. What’s in the spare room?”
Beckett’s gaze drifted down to the last bite of his burger. He gave it far too much attention.
“Uh-oh. Do you have a naughty room?”
His gaze zipped up to hers. “A what?”
She smiled at the surprise in his expression. “You know, like a Christian Grey Red Room?”
His brows nearly touched as lines formed on his forehead. “Who the hell is Christian Grey?”
Presley laughed. “An eccentric billionaire who likes a lot of props.”
“Did you date him?”
She nearly choked on the sip of pop she’d taken. Coughing, she set her drink down, her cheeks turning red. Beckett rubbed her back, concern etched into his features.
Laughter and coughing combined made ridiculous sounds, but Presley needed to catch her breath before she could truly soak in her embarrassment.
“You okay?” Beckett regarded her carefully.
“I’m good. I just like to make a fool of myself around you.”
