Dirty Ginger by Stacey Kennedy

11

After spending ten minutes on the phone with his criminal lawyer, Beckett now knew for certain that Luka dropped the charges. Even with this good news, Beckett’s mood was shot. Things were going well with Amelia. Really well. If that prick got inside Amelia’s head and undid all the healing they’d been through, Beckett might do something to make those charges return. He’d spent the remainder of his morning with Autumn, tacking her up and working her with the saddle on in the round pen before he spent a good hour on groundwork to deepen their bond. He’d known cowboys to use force, but he never saw sense in the method. All his preparation and groundwork was to build trust. If he did that right, she’d have enough faith in him to ride her and stop giving him grief. Right as he wrapped up, giving Autumn a hose off to cool her down before returning her to the paddock, he received a text from Hayes: Up for wings and beer for lunch?

Beckett removed Autumn’s halter and she wandered over to her feeder full of hay. He shut the gate behind him and fired off a text: Meet you in fifteen.

Nash never minded if Beckett took a longer lunch, and right now Beckett needed to talk to his friends and get his head straight.

The drive into downtown took longer than expected due to a three-car collision on the country road into town. By the time he arrived at Kinky Spurs, a western-themed bar belonging to Nash’s wife’s, Megan, he found Hayes and Sullivan already seated at a table. Megan was behind the shiny, reclaimed-wood slab bar when he arrived. She had distinctive eyes—the left one blue, the right one brown—and her long, sandy-colored hair held a slight curl. He gave her a wave, which she returned, and then continued to show a new employee around, or so Beckett assumed since he’d never seen the twenty-something guy before. Customers sat around squared tables and in booths; the ones closest to Beckett arguing over the best soccer player in the league.

“Hey,” he said, his chair scuffing against the hardwood floors as he slid it out. He took a seat next to Hayes and across from Sullivan. He noticed the Foxy Diva already waiting for him, and look a long, long sip, relishing in the crispness. “Thanks for ordering the beer.”

“No worries,” Sullivan said with a laugh. “I was too damn thirsty to wait.” He lifted his beer and tipped it toward Beckett. “Gotta get a few more of these in before I head back to Boston.”

“Are you leaving soon?” Hayes asked.

Sullivan nodded. “In a couple days for some team meetings and press, but then I’ll be back. How about we talk about your face.”

Beckett lifted his brows. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“You look miserable,” Sullivan pointed out. “What’s up?”

“Luka is what’s up,” Beckett grumbled. When both his friends frowned at him, he set to explaining. “The prick came by Amelia’s place to tell her that he dropped the charges against me.”

Hayes whistled. “Oh, yeah, what did you do when you saw him?”

“Kissed the hell out of her in front of him,” Beckett said, with a smile he suspected looked deadly.

Hayes barked a laugh. “Good for you, and even better the charges have been put to bed.”

Beckett agreed with a nod, right as Megan sidled up to the table.

“Wings all around?” she asked.

“Always,” Hayes said, as they never seemed to order anything else. Kinky Spurs had the best wings in River Rock.

“Excellent,” Megan said, clearing away Sullivan’s and Hayes’ empty beer bottles. “Another round?”

“Yeah,” Sullivan said. “Put this one on my tab.”

“Will do,” Megan said. “Wings coming up shortly.”

“Thanks,” Beckett said to her, watching her walk away and wondering if Nash had found his relationship with Megan so complicated when they started dating. He figured everyone had their ups and downs, and he looked back at Hayes and Sullivan, who watched him eagerly. “What?”

“There’s gotta be more going on here than Luka showing up,” Hayes said. “Considering how chummy you and Amelia were last night at dinner, how are you not riding a serious high right now?”

Beckett blew out a low breath. “When Amelia saw Luka at her front door, she looked like she was about to puke.”

“Not surprising,” Sullivan remarked. “He dumped her at the altar. It can’t feel good.”

“No, it can’t,” Beckett muttered, picking at the label on his bottle. “I just hope that bastard doesn’t get in her head and mess up all the progress we’ve made. I finally have her back in my life, and this fucking guy just won’t go away.”

Hayes leaned in, his brows drawing together. “You think she might get back with him?”

“It would be foolish of me not to consider that risk,” Beckett said, relaying the thought that had been on his mind all morning. “She was with him for three years. He proposed. She accepted. Obviously, she loved him.”

“Last night, it sure looked like the only man she was thinking about was you,” Sullivan offered.

Beckett inclined his head. “And yet, this morning when we saw Luka, she looked ghost white.”

Silence was his friends’ response, and Beckett took that to mean his concerns were valid.

Customers on the far side of the bar suddenly roared as someone scored a goal in the soccer game playing on the big screen monitors. When Beckett looked back to the group, he found Hayes smiling brightly at something over Beckett’s shoulder. Only one thing made Hayes smile like that.

Maisie sidled up to the table, her expression looking as pissed as Beckett felt.

“That’s not a happy face,” Hayes commented, grabbing Maisie by the waist and pulling her onto his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“Luka is what’s wrong.” She slid her gaze to Beckett, pity in her face. “He’s at Amelia’s, and I wish I had the ability to make him vanish off the face of the earth.”

“You and me both,” Beckett agreed.

Maisie’s eyebrows shot up. “You knew he was there?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I was there when he showed up this morning.”

“Why didn’t you make him leave?”

Beckett gave a dry laugh, slowly shaking his head. “Have you met your sister, Maisie? If she wanted him gone, she would have gotten him to leave.”

Maisie huffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t like it. Fine, he comes to, I don’t know, make amends or whatever shit he thinks he’s doing, but why does he need to still be there? What in the hell are they talking about?”

At that, a chill ran down Beckett’s spine. He glanced down at his watch. Two hours had gone by since he’d left her house. He met Maisie’s gaze again. “He’s still at the house?”

“Yeah, he’s been there a while from what I hear,” Maisie grumbled. “Clara told me they’ve been talking. I seriously don’t know why she gives him a second of her time. What else do you need to talk about other than to tell Luka he’s an asshole and to never come back to the house?”

Beckett absorbed what he heard and looked between Hayes and Sullivan. Both his friends wore matching deep frowns, and Beckett knew now for certain his concern had some merit. He wouldn’t lose her. Not to that fucker. Never again.

He rose, and Hayes lifted his brows. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To make sure she’s all right,” he said.

“Is that wise?” Hayes asked, his voice shifting into the authoritative tone he used on the job. “The charges have just been dropped. Sit down. Take a breather. Contact her later.”

Beckett shut his eyes, fighting against the draw to ensure no one else got close to her. But he didn’t want to get any of this wrong. He let out a long, stabilizing breath and then reopened his eyes, returning to his chair.

“Smart decision,” Hayes said, right as Beckett’s cellphone vibrated in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he noticed the call was from an unknown caller. “Hello,” he answered.

A soft voice on the other end of the line asked, “Hello. I’m looking for Beckett Stone? Is this him?”

The spicy aroma of hot wings infused the air as Megan carried over a tray and began setting down the plates. “Yes, it is. How can I help you?”

“Mr. Stone, I’m afraid I have some difficult news to tell you...”

The world faded away, his heartbeat hammering in his ears the only sound he could hear. His stomach rolled, his chest aching for air as he shot up from the table and ran for the door, hearing his friends yelling after him.

* * *

Later that afternoon,Amelia rubbed at her aching back, examining her work for the day. The three one-gallon glass apple cider jugs were now full of sample beers and fermenting. She’d made Beckett’s beer, Hayes’ and Clara’s. Tomorrow she’d get to the other three. In two weeks, she’d know if these beers were a disaster or something brilliant. And hopefully out of the six, Ronnie liked a few of the samples.

“It smells good in here.”

Amelia glanced back, finding Maisie and Clara behind her. Someone was missing though. “Lots of brews make for yummy smells. Where’s Mason?”

“Raiding your fridge,” Clara said with a smile. “Are you all done here for the day?”

“Yeah, everything on my body hurts and my brain is mush,” she said, removing her apron and leaving it on the hook on the wall. “Have either of you heard from Beckett? He’s not answering my texts.”

Maisie cringed, slowly raising her hand. “I might have something to do with that.”

“Why?” Amelia asked, suspecting she wasn’t going to like the answer.

Maisie twirled from side to side, nibbling her lip. “I met up with Hayes and the guys at their lunch earlier. Hayes and I were going to do some shopping after they were done.”

“Okay, and…” Amelia pressed.

Maisie winced and said in a rush, “Well, I was annoyed that Luka was here talking to you for so long, and Beckett was having lunch with Hayes and I just blurted out that it bugged me you and Luka were talking.”

Amelia sighed, calculating the time from when Beckett left to when Maisie met up with him at lunch. She and Luka had talked… for hours, in fact. “I wish you hadn’t said anything,” she told Maisie. She probably only added fuel to Beckett’s irritation. “Was he upset?”

“I mean, not really, but kind of,” Maisie said.

Clara snorted. “That is not an answer, Maisie.”

Maisie shrugged, unable to meet Amelia’s gaze. “I just mean that he didn’t look thrilled you were speaking to Luka still, but he wasn’t all in your face angry about it.” She hesitated then looked up at Amelia through her lashes. “He kind of took off.”

Amelia sighed and took her cell from her back pocket, waving it at her sister. “Maybe angrier than you know since he’s not returning my texts.”

“Maybe,” Maisie said, hunching her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I was just venting. He said that he knew you were with Luka, so I didn’t think I would ruffle any feathers.”

“He did know that Luka came over today,” Amelia explained, catching hints of the cocoa extract lingering in the air. “He was here when Luka showed up this morning. He just didn’t know that Luka had stayed that long.”

Clara crossed her arms, pinching her expression. “Well, what happened?”

Amelia rubbed at that continuing ache in her back and gave a small smile. “I think this conversation needs some margaritas.” Their go-to drink whenever a talk got heavy.

“I’m so in for that,” Maisie said, and took off toward the house.

Clara and Amelia followed her inside. When they made it to the kitchen, they’d also discovered that Mason had indeed raided her fridge and tore through the house, making messes wherever he went. The fridge was left open, the cupboard where the crackers she kept stocked for him was ransacked.

“Mason, get in here right now,” Clara snapped.

Loud footsteps came thundering from the family room where the Avengers movie they’d watched a thousand times together was playing. “Yeah?” he asked with a full mouth.

“Are you a tornado?” Clara asked firmly.

His little dark eyebrows furrowed, and he looked so much like Sullivan when he said, “No, I’m a human.”

Clara pointed to the cracker cupboard. “Then clean up the mess you made right now.”

As fast as he probably entered the kitchen, he had cabinet doors slammed and was heading back to watch his movie.

Clara sighed and shook her head at her son. “Little boys are exhausting.”

Amelia laughed, definitely feeling for Clara. Mason was more than a handful and seemed like his power switch was on lightspeed mode. Amelia reached for the margarita glasses in the cupboard as Maisie mixed up the drink. Once Maisie poured them, they headed out to the back deck where Amelia had recently bought some updated patio furniture to have a seating area that was shaded by the mature tree next to the house.

She took a seat on the couch and took a long sip of the margarita. First hit by the sugary sweetness on the rim of the glass, followed by the tangy lime juice with a hard hit of the tequila. Maisie always made the drinks strong. “I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, resting her glass on the armrest.

Clara took the spot next to her. “How about at the beginning?”

Maisie flopped onto the big couch, crossing her ankles onto the coffee table. “Or at least where things got interesting.”

Amelia laughed softly, thinking back to her conversation with Luka this morning. “Is telling Luka that he was right to call of the wedding interesting enough?” Both her sisters’ mouths dropped open, and Amelia laughed again. “Guess so.”

“You’ll have to explain this to me,” Clara said, breaking the thick silence, “because I can’t see beyond him being a total asshole for what he did to you.”

Amelia tucked her legs underneath her, noting the calmness in her heart. “Okay, sure, the way he called off the wedding was horrible, but I get why he did it. We did get wrapped up in the wedding, all of that. The truth is, I should have ended things with Luka long before he did, and that’s on me.”

“Because you weren’t happy?” Maisie asked, like she already had figured out what took Amelia a long time to come to grips with.

“Because my heart was already wrapped up in someone else who I never got over.” There, she said it aloud. She waited for the world to come crashing down, but it never did.

A soft expression reached Clara’s face. “I think we all know you and Beckett are the real deal,” she said.

Amelia agreed with a nod, feeling like she was finally on the right track, and she was ready to let life take her when she needed to go. “I can’t even explain it all, nor do I have it all figured out, but when I went to college, it was just so different from life here. I liked that. You know, being someone different. Especially because back then, I lost Beckett. I didn’t even know him anymore. He went from this guy with a promising rodeo career ahead of him, who loved me madly, to someone else.” Her sisters knew her pain back then. The heartbreak she went through as she tried and tried and tried to make things work with Beckett, but he’d been so lost back then, so unreachable. He wouldn’t talk about anything, share his feelings, let her in. Until she couldn’t live like that anymore, and decided college was her way out. “When I came back from school, I never let myself look too closely at him, knowing I couldn’t, knowing the risk, knowing that all I’d want was him.”

“But then you did look at him?” Maisie asked.

Amelia nodded. “It’s like he’s back to himself. Open, willing to talk about us and himself, and to share in my life and let me share in his.”

At whatever crossed Amelia’s expression, Clara cocked her head. “Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked, before sipping her drink.

“It’s incredibly good,” Amelia confirmed, running her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “But today I shared that same type of thing with Luka. We were just honest. We talked about all the feelings we had for each other at the beginning of our relationship. We talked about how simple life was while we were in school. We were the same, wanted the same things, did the same things, even. But when I moved back home, I became the old me, the country girl, the one who doesn’t want a big city life. And that’s when we drifted apart, but he was too proud to end the relationship. I think I was too afraid to fail at another one, especially right in front of Beckett’s eyes.”

Maisie finished her sip. “So, your talk was all about healing, then?”

“It was,” Amelia agreed with a soft nod, squinting against the sun peeking through the trees leaves. “I think we needed to give each other permission to admit that we were no longer in love, and that was okay.”

Clara blew out a long breath, crossing her legs. “Luka is lucky to have your kindness, and I’m happy you made peace with all this. Does this mean he’s gone from your life?”

“Yup,” Amelia said. “We hugged, wished each other well, and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.” Which felt weird—she’d been with him for three years. But then it didn’t feel weird either. The final goodbye felt right. Good.

Maisie swatted at a fly and asked, “Does this mean you and Beckett are moving full steam ahead?” Maisie asked.

She nearly said yes but stopped herself short. “That’s where things get a little complicated,” she admitted. “If I learned one thing from talking to Luka today, it’s that I finally feel like I know who I am. I know what I want. And I want Beckett. We were great in high school, but now we’re adults and we still work together. Even better than before. Yes, there is a lot of messiness and hurt in our past. A lot of history. A lot of pain. A lot of healing. But I want to be with him and work through that with him.” She hesitated and drew in a long deep breath before continuing. “I know Beckett and I have gotten back together quickly, and I know I should feel embarrassed and weird about that, but I don’t. It feels good. Right.”

Clara took Amelia’s hand, squeezing tight, giving a soft smile. “I’m proud of you. You’ve handled all this with such grace.”

Maisie agreed a nod. “Hell yeah, you have.”

“We’re here for you, all the way through this,” Clara said. “All we want is for you to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Amelia said, and then laughed. “All I want is to be happy too.”

“Amelia.”

The cold dread in Hayes’ voice had Amelia shooting straight up from her seat, her heart leaping in her throat. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Beckett,” Hayes said slowly, his dark eyes troubled. “His father died.”