Dirty Ginger by Stacey Kennedy
9
Back at the house, sitting around the large picnic table they always used for big family meals, Amelia felt… different. Everything felt different now. When she’d decided to move away to college, she secretly hoped that Beckett would reach out for her and that she’d get him back, but it never happened. Part of her felt sad for all he’d gone through, but the other part of her realized that if her leaving meant it helped him get healthy, it was worth it.
As she looked around, her chest felt open and so full of love… It had been years since she’d been this comfortable at one of their family dinners. She knew why—Luka wasn’t there. The biggest truth that hit her was she realized, that while embarrassed over being dumped by Luka at the altar, that emotion was nothing in comparison to the pain she felt when Beckett had pushed her away. That was love. What she had with Luka wasn’t the same. She pushed around the baked beans on her plate, wondering why it had taken her so long to see that something was wrong between them. It made her wonder, after Beckett shared his truth, if she’d been hiding from hers. All she and Luka had done was fought, and if she were honest, she had her doubts about him for a long time. In the broken parts of her heart, she knew she’d been so desperate to make it work with Luka, because she didn’t want to fail at love twice. She’d put up with the fighting, always having a way to explain it away. She overlooked the way he never took any interest in her life, and how he turned his nose down at her small town life.
Someone kicking her foot had her lifting her head. Beckett’s brows were knotted. “You okay?” he mouthed.
She nodded and gave him a smile to reassure him.
It didn’t work. His brows tightened further.
She stared into his strong, solid eyes, losing herself in all they offered her. With all the honesty bubbling up, she began to realize that this was what she had truly wanted. The ease Beckett brought. He’d grown up with her sisters. They were all close, Clara’s protective nature of Beckett proving that. But she knew now, surrounded by her family, both blood and chosen, that Luka had been a fill in. Luka was the guy she thought she wanted because the one she craved had been unattainable. But Beckett was no longer pushing her away. He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t distant. And her heart knew the man locked onto her like she was the only thing he could see at the table, passion, desire and sweet things pooling in his eyes.
At whatever showed on her face, emotion filled Beckett’s expression. The world faded away as he reached across the table, taking her one hand in the both of his. In the space between them, a connection bloomed that seemed tangible in the warm air.
“Um, well, this got weird,” Maisie said.
Amelia blinked, startled, as she suddenly remembered they weren’t alone. Every set of eyes were locked onto her and Beckett. She tried to pull her hand away, but Beckett held on tight. When she met his gaze again, she read his expression, knowing it from the years they had together. I got this, those steady eyes told her.
Beckett threw Maisie a sly smile. “Weird is my walking in on you buck naked dancing around Hayes’ kitchen.”
Maisie blushed up to her eyeballs, and Hayes barked a laugh. “Ha! I’ll never forget that.” He slapped the table. “The look on both your faces. Classic.”
At the end of the table, sitting next to Clara, Mason burst out laughing. “Auntie Maisie was buck naked.”
“That isn’t funny,” Clara chided her son, but she looked to be fighting her laughter.
Maisie sighed, leaning over to Mason and said, “It is a little funny, but that’s not a story you tell your friends. I have enough embarrassment from that day.”
While everyone joined in the conversation and the laughter, Amelia couldn’t look away from Beckett as he lifted her hand to his lips, and looking right at her, kissed her palm. She’d felt this with him before. Happiness, not jaded by any hurts. She forgot how nice this felt. How real and honest and true, and how Beckett knew her heart, understood what she needed when she needed it. How had she forgotten that?
When he finally released her hand, he gave her a little smile that stole the air from her lungs. A smile that was all for her, only for her, as Clara blessedly changed the topic. “How are the new beer flavors coming?” she asked.
Amelia gently pulled her hand away, still feeling his kiss on her palm. She spotted the glimmer in Clara’s eyes. She obviously didn’t hate what happened between her and Beckett. Amelia began to wonder if both her sisters knew what Amelia had just realized a second ago. “Actually, today I had a little bit of a breakthrough when Beckett and I went out for our ride and he was talking about sitting around our dinner table.” When silence greeted her, she laughed. “Do you want to hear my ideas?”
Next to Clara, Sullivan wiped his mouth with his napkin and nodded. “Who better to run your new beers ideas than your number one fans?”
“Well, funny you should say that,” she said. “Because you’re all inspiration for the flavors.”
Maisie set down her BBQ rib onto her plate, scrunching her nose. “What do you mean?”
“Honestly, I was drawing a blank coming up with fresh ideas, and today it just hit me. Foxy Diva was all Pops, so I drew inspiration from all of your personalities for the new samples.” To Maisie, she said, “Take you for example, your beer is a dark ale. It’ll taste like white peaches mixed with bananas and summer fields.”
Maisie rubbed her tummy. “Sounds delicious.”
“I think so too,” Amelia said with a laugh. To Hayes, she said, “For you, we’ve got an amber ale, with flavors like second cut grass, sour crust dough and a hint of banana to sweeten things up.”
Hayes grinned, about to bite into his rib. “Now that’s a beer I can get behind.”
She smiled at him before turning to Sullivan. “You’re a Pilsner full of soft grain, a hint of orange, gentle spice and hay.”
“We all know that beer will hit it right out of the park,” Sullivan beamed.
Hayes snorted. “Terrible pun. Just God awful.”
Everyone around the table laughed, as Amelia said to Clara, “Yours will be fresh Indian pale ale, with white wine, gooseberry, papaya with lime.”
“Ooh,” Clara said. “A perfect beer for a summer’s day.”
Amelia agreed with a quick nod then sent her smile onto Mason. “For you, buddy, since you love Christmas so much, I thought we can do a Christmas Ale, with flavors of candy canes, honey and light spice.”
Mason grinned big. “Does that mean I can drink it?”
“No,” Sullivan and Clara said in unison.
Mason pouted at them but said to Amelia, “I love candy canes.”
“I know you do,” Amelia replied. “You can eat all the extra pieces.”
“Did you hear that, mom?” Mason asked. “Auntie Amelia said I can eat all the pieces.”
“Within reason, of course,” Clara said.
Mason gave a little glare. “All the pieces, Mom.”
Laughter followed again, and Amelia smiled at the sweet sound.
“What about my beer?”
Amelia met Beckett’s gaze, consumed by how he watched her. How maybe he always watched her, and she never noticed because her focus had been elsewhere, in the wrong direction. “You’re a dark ale. Chocolate, coffee and caramel.” Her three favorite flavors.
His sweet smile said he knew it too.
“I think this is an amazing idea, Amelia,” Clara said, scooping up more beans on her spoon. “Each one of those beers sound incredible. I’ve got no doubt that Ronnie will be thrilled and they all will, as Sullivan says, hit it out of the park.”
Sullivan gave her a kiss for that.
Amelia nodded. “At least we have a way forward now. We’re competing against some talented Brew Masters to get that spot, but I feel good about it.” Or at least felt good about having a plan since she’d been running on empty for ideas.
Maisie smiled. “Sounds like a good plan.”
Mason asked, “When do I get my candy cane?”
Clara pointed her fork at his full plate. “How about you worry about this food instead?”
Mason shrugged and began digging in. Sullivan smiled at his son before he said, “It’s really amazing what you’ve done. The three of you. Pops would be so damn proud of you all and your brewery.”
Clara smiled and nodded, pride bursting out of her. “He truly would. I don’t think he ever could have imagined when he left us his inheritance and the property that we’d ever get this far with his favorite beer.”
Maisie beamed with light, as always. “Nah, I think he knew. He always seemed to know what a force we were when we put our minds to something.”
“I think you’re right,” Amelia said. Her gaze slipped away from her sisters landing on Beckett. His gentle smile greeted her. She smiled back, knowing that while the brewery would make Pops happy, her spending time with Beckett again—a guy that Pops truly loved—would delight him even more.
* * *
Long after thekitchen was cleaned up and the house was quiet, Beckett inhaled Amelia’s vanilla scent before he wrapped his arms around her from behind. So many wonderful memories were held in his house. Amelia’s grandfather, Pops, had been the best man that Beckett had ever known, other than his own grandfather. Pops had accepted Beckett into the family with open arms and put him in his place whenever he deserved that too. Sometimes, life simply wasn’t long enough, and Pops deserved more time. “Thank you for dinner.” He dropped a kiss on her neck and smiled against her soft skin when she shivered. “You’ve really become quite the cook.”
“You’re welcome.” She spun in his arms and pressed her hands against his chest. “It was nice having you here for a big family dinner.”
“It’s been a while,” he agreed. While he did see Amelia whenever the group got together, he skipped family dinners whenever she and Luka were around. He hadn’t trusted himself not to slam his fist in the prick’s face. Hayes had told him the stories of how Luka talked to Amelia. How they fought. How he treated her with little to no respect. Beckett wouldn’t have been able to handle that. “So, Miss Amelia, what would you like to do this evening?”
She gave him a cute look. “Actually, I have a really fun idea.” She took his hand and he followed her out of the kitchen and up the staircase.
When she entered her bedroom, he grinned. “I’m liking where this is going.”
She laughed softly. “That’s not my idea.”
He took a step toward her. “Bet I can change your mind.”
“Oh, no,” she said, holding up her hand, slowly backing away. “You wait right there. If you touch me, I’ll get distracted.” She spun quickly and headed for her closet, which had an old door with a vintage keyhole. After she grabbed something out, she turned back to him and held a shoe box. She took a seat on her bed, and he joined her right as she opened the box.
One look inside at the contents and his heart flipped in his chest. “You’re kidding me?” He reached inside the box, taking out a photograph of them in his old beat-up 1970’s bright blue Ford. He’d loved that truck and had driven it until it died on an old country road. “Jesus, look at us, we were just kids.”
“I know, right? We look like babies, and to think we thought we knew it all back then.” She reached in and took out a stack full of photographs from the time they started dating right up to just before she left for school. High school football games, prom, summer parties, every moment of their lives were right there in the box. “Look, this is the movie stub from our first date.”
“You kept this?” He took the ticket and examined it. He’d taken her to see scary movies at the old theater in town that had been demolished a few years back after the property was sold.
“I kept everything,” she said, with a certain sweetness in her voice. “All of it. Every little bit of our life together.”
He studied the contents, spotting the little notes he’d respond to when she’d pass him in the hallway before he graduated a few years before her. Everything was there. All of their adventures, their happy memories, and even the harder ones, when Beckett looked thin and tired.
When he glanced up at her, he found tears in her eyes, “Every man that I dated after you had to compete with this.” She waved out to the box. “All these wonderful memories.”
“They were good,” he agreed.
“Good and near impossible for anyone to compete with,” she said, gathering up the memories and placing them back in the box. “Because how can someone compare to something that’s perfect?”
His breath hitched at the emotion on her face and in her voice, even in her words, as she rose and stood next to the bed. It took all of Beckett’s strength not to reach for her and claim her, but he wouldn’t rush her. He didn’t want to miss a moment of the way she watched him, so lovingly, so open, like tomorrow and every day after it, she’d always look at him like this.
He grew hard when she reached up and slid her shirt over her head, leaving her in a white lace bra he wanted to rip off her. “But you still remember exactly how to touch me,” she said slowly, stepping out of her jean shorts. “You always did know me better than anyone else.”
“Because I was the first one to touch you,” he managed, need flooding him, thickening his voice. “We taught each other what feels good.”
“Yes, we did.” She held his stare in a way he hadn’t seen in a very long time. The veil of distance had been broken and all the love between them flourished again.
Consumed by all she offered, he rose on trembling legs. “You’ve got to stop looking at me like that.”
She pressed her hands against his chest, pouring heat into him. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like I can have all of you,” he murmured. “I’m trying to do the right thing here. Be what you need me to be. But I have my limits.”
Her eyes searched his, intensity blazing in their depths. “What if you I said you can have all of me?”
He froze, his muscles quivering. Years he’d waited for her to look at him like this. To have a single moment when she saw all of him. And there, she was, his Amelia. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” he managed.
She unhooked her bra, letting it fall down her arms, and then removed her panties.
His hands clenched into fists. His gaze roamed over her, every spectacular inch from her light pink painted toenails, up her toned legs to the ginger curls between her thighs, to her rounded belly, to her rosy, taut nipples, and then past her parted lips, begging for his kiss, to her half-lidded eyes. He swallowed. Deeply.
She stepped closer, until all her softness pressed against his hard planes. “Well, you’re not intending to disappoint me, are you?” she asked, staring up at him with glistening eyes.
“No, I’m not,” he said, roughly.
“Then I think we’re done talking.” She slid her touch across his cheek and cupped the back of his head, pulling him down to meet her mouth.
Any control he had left snapped at the feel of her heated kiss. Between their open-mouthed kisses, he rid himself of his clothes before gathering her in his arms. Once he laid her out on her bed, he settled between her thighs, gazing upon the soft curls between her legs. He didn’t hesitate, driven by desire he could not control. His hands shook with adrenaline as he dropped his head between her thighs, desperate for the taste he’d longed for. He groaned as he slid his tongue across her slit, tasting her arousal when she moaned deeply. Well aware how she liked his mouth on her, he licked her again, lighter this time, teasing and tempting her.
She moaned again, dropping her head back, and he reveled in the way she trembled. He reached for her breast, holding her tight in the way she’d always loved.
Another moan, and she ground her heat into him. She smelled like Amelia, a scent belonging only to her, sweet and so seductive, the aroma drove him to forgo his idea of teasing her. He focused his tongue on her clit, swirling, nipping, sucking, until she lifted her hips off the blanket beneath her.
“Oh… don’t… stop,” she gasped.
He nearly laughed at the thought but was more determined to get her there. “Do you want to come, Amelia?” he asked.
“Yes,” she panted.
He nipped her clit, and her legs began to shake. “How long has it been since you’ve found pleasure like this?”
A pause. “Since you.”
“Good.” He settled his mouth over her clit again and slowly inserted one finger, then two. He worked his fingers, slowly, but eagerly, her whimpering making him throb to slide deep inside her. When she soaked his fingers, ready and desperate, he took her over the edge.
One hard suck later, and a round of fast thrusts of his fingers, and she was coming against his tongue, wildly bucking against him.
Her musky scent enveloped him, and he gathered a condom from his wallet when she urgently opened his jeans and shoved them down over his ass. He groaned at the feel of her trembling hands, understanding her need. She took the condom from his hand and had him sheathed a moment later.
He moaned against her mouth as she slanted hers over his. He’d waited years for this. Her unabashedly wanting him, driven crazy by lust that she jumped off the bed and pushed on his chest, sending him walking backward until his legs hit the bed. He sank down on the mattress, gathering her in his arms until her knees were on the bed and the tip of him was inside her.
She broke the kiss, her intense stare on him, as she slowly lowered herself down on him, inch by inch, her eyes widening the deeper he went. And Christ, he went deep. His cock pulsated at the tightness of her, the wetness, as she worked herself down on him until he was balls deep. His moan echoed hers as she shifted her hips, back and forth, her head falling back.
He caught her taut nipple between his teeth, sucking the bud up to the roof of his mouth. She began grinding against him, circling her hips, until she had him throbbing. He nipped the taut bud, and then he caught her moan in his mouth. He sucked on her tongue, tasting every bit of his mouth in the way he knew she liked it.
She worked her hips harder, back and forth, grinding herself atop him. “I know what I want now, Beckett.”
He nipped her bottom lip, then grabbed her hips, stopping her. “What do you want?”
“You,” she whispered.
His heart tripped. He grabbed her hips tight, and done with hiding all that he felt for her, he gathered her in his arms and flipped their positions. Staring down at her beauty, her hair laid out beneath her head, her creamy flesh all his to explore, her beautiful, sweet eyes only on him. He cupped her neck, while his other hand went to her thigh, pushing it back, letting him slide back inside her as deep as he could. “Are we doing this then, Amelia? Me and you? We’re trying this again?”
She cupped his face. “Yes. I want that. I want you.”
She might have said more, maybe even had conditions to how this would go between them, but he didn’t let her finish. He couldn’t let her. Overcome with a reality he never thought possible, he didn’t take for granted their joining. He unleashed his strength, claiming what had been his from the first day he’d touched her. With every touch, he removed any memory of another man on her body. With every thrust, he made a new memory she could keep forever, just like all the memories in her shoe box. He gave her everything he had to ensure she always knew what this felt like. And as he roared his climax, his semen exploding from his cock, he knew one day, he’d do just that without a condom, and make the family that they both deserved.