Dirty Ginger by Stacey Kennedy

7

The next morning, Amelia stared down at the crumbs on her small plate from her cheese croissant, waiting and wondering if regret would suddenly surface after what happened with Beckett last night. It never came. Something else didn’t come either – guilt. Shouldn’t there be some of that? Sure, Luka left her at the altar and embarrassed her in front of everyone, but she’d loved him and had planned a life with him. Why wasn’t she feeling horrible for making out with Beckett so soon after her breakup? And why was Beckett on her mind all the time? Thoughts of his sweet tongue and delicious pleasure kept her thinking of him all morning. His throaty voice stuck in her ear, raising goosebumps along the skin he’d touched. The way he commanded her body like he owned her made her shiver.

She didn’t know this Beckett. She knew the young, wild Beckett who took her virginity. Then she knew a more distant side of Beckett after his mother and grandfather died. A Beckett who gave up on his dreams of the rodeo and had taken a giant step back from her. The man that touched her yesterday didn’t feel like the one who told her there was distance between them and he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Hell no, he was strong and solid, every spectacular inch of him. But what stayed on her mind most was his sweet gesture with the movie. That was a Beckett she did know. One who thought of her instead of himself, remembered the little things, and knew her more than anyone else. She’d forgotten that about him. How much he paid attention, and how he went out of his way to make her happy. She really missed that. Luka didn’t even know dill pickle was her favorite chip flavor. Maybe Luka hadn’t known her that well at all.

Deciding to get her day going and not let anything interrupt her getting her brewery back in order, she set to cleaning up. As she finished washing her plate, she heard the rumble of a truck coming up her driveway, followed by a few more. She quickly set the plate in the drying rack, then dried her hands on the towel resting over the stove’s handle. By the time she opened the front door, two more trucks were coming up the driveway. Her heart sank in her throat, hoping Penelope hadn’t forgotten to cancel any of the brewery tours.

The worry was short lived as she spotted Beckett’s truck leading the group, and then noticed two of the other trucks had Blackshaw Horse Training written on them.

“What’s going on?” she asked the moment Beckett exited his truck.

“Help.”

She blinked, processed, but still felt lost. “Sorry, help with what exactly?”

He reached her at her porch steps, giving her a bright smile that she’d like to think she had a hand in. “Yesterday you said that you needed to get your tanks cleaned up.” He gestured back with a flick of his chin at the three cowboys behind him. “Nash didn’t mind us coming here to help you get settled.”

Her heart overflowed with emotions, and she placed a hand on her chest to keep her heart from beating right out of her chest. “I can’t accept help.”

Beckett’s brows knitted. “Why not?”

“Because it’s just too much. You guys have your own stuff going on. Seriously, thank you, but this is way too much.”

Beckett watched her closely for a long moment before he headed up the two steps to stand directly in front of her, heating up the air with him. Her heart raced for a whole different reason now, as he said, “This isn’t the time to feel bad. You need the help. It’s here. Take it.”

She stared into the warm comfort in his gaze, realizing she truly did need the help. “You’re really sure Nash okayed this?”

Beckett gave a firm nod. “Of course, Amelia, we’ve got your back.”

Without thought, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight, and he enveloped her in his strong arms. “Thank you for this, Beckett. It’s truly above and beyond.”

He dropped his head into her neck, and she swore she heard his long inhale before he said, “No thanks required.” He leaned away but didn’t release her, hitting her with that sparkling grin again. “The boys love your beer, so it only benefits them to get the spoiled beer out and good beer back in”

She became lost in the strength in his eyes. Truth was, she never allowed herself to look too hard at Beckett, not fully trusting her heart while she was with Luka. She certainly saw all of him now, and she really liked the man he’d become, and how much he helped her whenever he could.

“I see this is becoming a habit.”

Amelia jerked away at hearing Clara’s voice, though Beckett’s hands stayed firmly on her hips. A flurry of reasons popped into her mind to explain their embrace, but she gave up and just ignored Clara’s dig. “Beckett brought some of the guys over to help clean out the tanks.”

“Yes, I heard,” she said, giving Beckett an inquisitive look.

Amelia felt the tension thicken in the air and decided to get Clara and Beckett as far away from each other as possible. “Hey guys,” she called to the group of cowboys. They all turned her way. One of the men she knew from high school. “I really appreciate you helping out today. You’ve got no idea how much this will help get me back on track. Lunch and beers are on us.”

Hooting and hollering followed as Mason, her six-year-old nephew, who was turning seven in a few short months, ran for Amelia. Beckett moved out of the way right as Mason flew at her. She caught him in her arms, giving him a big hug. “I’ve missed you so much, buddy.”

“Me too, Aunty Amelia.”

She leaned away. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I have a day off so teachers can do paperwork and stuff.” He grinned before taking off toward the cowboys, heading into the brewery.

Beckett chuckled. “I take it that means it’s time to work.” He glanced between Amelia and Clara, winked and flicked his cowboy hat. “See ya in there.”

Amelia swallowed the heat simmering in her core and nodded. “I’ll be along in one second.”

His panty-melting grin was the last thing she saw before he walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot, she whirled around to Clara. “You are being seriously rude. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Clara crossed her arms, frowning. “Protective, not rude.”

“No, it’s rude, trust me,” Amelia shot back. She pointed to the brewery. “Beckett brought these guys here to help me after I told him yesterday that I had a lot to do, and I was finding it overwhelming.”

Clara’s expression pinched. “You’re not thinking clearly, Amelia, and that makes me very worried.”

Not this again. Amelia threw up her arms. “I already told you that you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. Leave it alone.”

Clara’s nostrils flared. “How can you be? Honestly, two weeks ago you were supposed to marry another man. Now you’re heating things up again with the guy that you once said was your one and only. How is any of that fine, Amelia?”

Okay, so it was confusing. “Seriously, nothing is happening.” Well, a few things were happening, but it was none of her sister’s business.

Clara inhaled a deep breath before the deepest glare Amelia had ever seen in her life crossed her sister’s face. “He’s not only your friend—you are aware of this, right? I care very deeply about Beckett too. And this… Amelia, what you are doing to him is cruel. He has never stopped loving you. Never. He’s been patiently waiting to see if he ever had another chance with you. If you don’t realize that, you’re stupid.”

Amelia glared now. “Harsh.”

“I’m not sugarcoating this for anyone,” Clara said, coldly, matter-of-factly. “I stood by and watched you fall in love with a total shithead, and I said nothing. But both you and Beckett need to wake up and see that this is a dangerous game you’re playing.” Her sister leaned in and narrowed her eyes, pointing a finger in Amelia’s face. “As much as I don’t want him to hurt you, I don’t want you to hurt him.”

“I have no plans to hurt him,” Amelia said in all seriousness.

Clara didn’t back down. Her eyes narrowed further into slits. “Is your head clear enough to even make that decision?”

Yes, nearly escaped her mouth, but the word couldn’t find its way through her lips. She took a deep breath and considered. Clara rubbed a lot of people wrong. Not Amelia. She appreciated that Clara didn’t wear a mask or hold back. “Fine, I’ve heard you, and I’ll take what you’ve said into consideration,” was Amelia’s carefully worded reply.

“Good,” Clara said, softer this time. “That’s all I ask. Think this through and don’t blindly walk around pretending that what you two are doing is not a huge deal.” She finally huffed and gave Amelia a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now let’s go save those cowboys from Mason.”

Amelia laughed softly, even though it felt a little forced. She strode next to Clara as they approached the brewery, absorbing the conversation. She couldn’t deny she wasn’t thinking things through completely, but she’d done that with Luka and that only got her dumped at the altar. Beckett was a grown man. He seemed happy, why couldn’t Clara get on board with that too? The cowboys were talking and laughing, and considering no one was covering their noses, she thought that was a good sign.

“All right, boss,” Beckett said when she stepped into the brewery. He leaned against the tank, looking like a woman’s dream come true, with Mason hanging off his arm. “Put us to work.”

She smiled at how much Mason always seemed to love being around Beckett before she looked at her helpers for the day. “I hope you all don’t mind getting dirty.”

Laughter echoed through the brewery.

Smirking to herself, considering they had no idea what they were in for, she climbed the ladder and opened the tank. The scent of rancid grain quickly infused the air. Each and every one of them covered their noses. One even gagged. “Anyone want to back out now?” she asked.

They all glanced at Beckett.

He glared.

“Where do we start?” one of the cowboys called.

* * *

Beckett loadedthe last of the plates in the dishwasher before he caught Amelia laughing at something Chevy, one of the young stable hands at the ranch, had said. He wondered if she knew that she was laughing easier since she’d come home. He hadn’t seen her laugh like this in a very long time. If he was being honest, he hadn’t seen this sweet laughter from her since before the accident, and Beckett took blame in that.

Cleaning the tanks and disposing of the spoiled grain had taken longer than expected. Amelia had ordered pizza for lunch, but Clara and Amelia had made a home-cooked meal when cleaning the brewery took up until dinnertime, but they’d managed to get it done. All in all, the day was successful, and Beckett was glad she could get ahead of the game. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the gorgeous sky in pink and purple hues, and Beckett took a deep breath. Things had been bad for a very long time, and then even when they were no longer bad, they were lonely. Sure, Beckett took women to his bed to fill the void of Amelia’s absence, but they never lasted, because he gave nothing of himself. Now, as he looked upon Amelia laughing, he wondered if things were about to take a turn for the better.

“What exactly are you doing here, Beckett?”

He sighed at Clara’s sharp voice. Christ, she was relentless. He closed the dishwasher and then glanced back, meeting her hard gaze. He had it in him to remind her again that whatever was going between him and Amelia didn’t include Clara’s input, but he saw the raw concern on Clara’s face. “Taking care of her.”

Unforgiving eyes searched his. “Is that it, then? You’re looking out for her?”

“That’s it,” he told her, not feeling the need to explain that, if Amelia would give him her heart, he’d take it and protect it forever.

“What about you?” Clara asked, with a rare gentle voice. “Who’s looking out for you in all this? Can you really handle a fling with Amelia, since it’s pretty clear that a serious relationship is the last thing on her mind?”

Her words hit him like a brick to the chest. It hadn’t occurred to him that Clara would worry for his wellbeing. She shocked him into silence for a few seconds. “I’m looking out for myself,” he eventually answered, “but thank you for your concern.”

Everything typically hard on Clara softened as she took him by the arms, holding them tightly as she looked into his eyes. “I have waited for this reunion for a long time. Please, please, take this slow and easy so that it works out and you both come out of this happy.”

Leaving him utterly speechless now, she exited the back door and made her way back to Sullivan and Mason. He processed what she’d told him. He had no idea that she wanted them to reunite. Or what he should do with that information.

Damn. He always thought Clara would want better for Amelia. He screwed up once before, and he’d never amounted to much since then— never competed professionally like he had planned or become wealthy. Though he supposed he should have realized that between Luka and him, Beckett was definitely a better match in every way that mattered.

When Beckett followed Amelia outside, Clara and Sullivan were saying their goodbyes with Mason giving Amelia a big squeeze.

“Bye, buddy,” Beckett said to him as Mason approached. He gave him a high five. “Kick butt at your game this weekend.”

Mason did a ninja move and yelled incoherent words before running toward the front of the house.

Clara shook her head at her retreating son. “I swear sometimes he’s living in a world entirely his own.”

“Not a bad thing,” Beckett said with a smile.

“No, it’s not,” Clara replied, then shocking him again, she hugged him. “Thanks again for your help today. We really appreciate it and won’t forget it anytime soon.”

“I’m glad to help,” he said, hugging her back.

He remained in a state of shock until Sullivan grinned at him, cupping his shoulder. “Let’s get a beer and wings before I head back to Boston.”

“Just let me know when,” Beckett said.

“Done,” Sullivan said.

By the time Sullivan left the backyard, Nash’s cowboys started to leave too. They laughed as they made their way to their trucks, their bellies full from the dinner Amelia and Clara cooked for them, as well as the couple beers as a thank you. Of course, Amelia sent them all home with a case of Foxy Diva too.

“Stay for a fire?”

Beckett turned around, finding Amelia smiling behind him. “Sure thing,” he said. He grabbed another beer from the cooler, his last one for the evening. After a long sip, he set his bottle on the bench, then grabbed the axe, cutting up some wood while Amelia gathered the kindling and started the fire.

“I heard about your dad,” she said, as the kindling began to burn.

“Not much of a surprise. I’m sure the whole town is talking about it.” Beckett knelt next to her and placed three logs in a teepee formation around the kindling.

Her gaze met his, understanding there. “Days connected to your mom always seem so hard on him.”

It surprised him Amelia remembered his mother’s birthday. “They are,” he agreed, moving to the Adirondack chair and stretching out his legs as smoke bellowed from the logs. “Luckily he didn’t cause too much trouble. Just passed out in the park.”

“That’s good,” she said, taking the seat next to him. “He never could find his way home, huh?”

Beckett took a long sip of his beer before placing it on the armrest. “Nope, never could.” Sometimes he wondered what went through his dad’s head, but he didn’t like being in that space long. He’d lost Amelia, he knew what that felt like, but he was only looking toward the future now.

“Besides that,” said Amelia, drawing his attention back to her. “How’s your dad doing?”

Beckett shrugged. “He’s existing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He’s not really living,” Beckett explained as the fire crackled, the logs finally catching. “All he does is wake up, work and then watch television.”

Amelia slowly shook her head, obvious disappoint on her expression. “The whole thing is still so sad. So much loss.”

Beckett nodded agreement, looking into the blazing fire. “It’s sad, yes, but it’s also a battle you can’t win.” He tried for years to get his father help with his all-consuming grief, but when Beckett realized he’d lost everything that mattered, that his father wanted to stay under that dark cloud of despair, he had to stop trying to help his father and accept that Jim didn’t want to be saved.

“Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if the accident didn’t happen?”

“Yeah,” Beckett said, a lump rising in this throat. “I used to think about that a lot. I suspect I’d be a pro in the rodeo, and you’d be—”

She gave a soft smile, the words hanging between them—my wife.

Beckett shifted in his chair, refusing to let his mind go there. “But life isn’t for our choosing. Things happen, and you just have to roll with it.”

“I guess you do,” she agreed, then her expression shifted, becoming a little more distant.

Beckett knew why. She was thinking of all her life choices and where they got her, but the blame for her life going wrong all landed in Beckett’s lap. Had he not lost his way after the accident, he would have proposed to her before she left for college and drove up to see her whenever he could. They would have made it work. But he had lost his way, and shut Amelia out of his life. That would never happen again.

To get her out of her head, he tapped her arm with his. “Getting lost in there?” he asked.

She glanced his way and smiled. “A little.” Her expression shifted then, and Beckett felt the heat roll through him in an instant. “But I’m also thinking of something else we could do that’s much more fun than talking about all the heavy stuff.” She rose and climbed onto his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her back as she thrust her hands into his hair. “Don’t you?”

“Mm hmm,” he told her.

She licked her lips and he had to use all his strength not to claim that mouth. “Want to come inside?”

Damn did he want to. The heat building in his groin agreed. But Clara’s talk rattled him. He couldn’t shake what she said: Please, please, take this slow and easy so that it works out and you both come out of this happy. The last thing he wanted to do was take a wrong step. Once everything got away from him and he’d lost Amelia, his dreams of becoming a professional calf roper, and his family in one fell swoop. He’d never let anything get away from him again. His steps needed to stay focused and his mind had to remain clear. “Actually, I’m beat. It’s been a long day. Is it all right if I take a raincheck?”

Obvious disappointment flashed across her expression. “Sure, of course.”

He kissed the top of her forehead and then rose, setting her back to her feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” Unable to help himself, as she looked up at him with those cute eyes, he took her chin and slanted his mouth across hers. She fell into his kiss, pressing her lush body against him, offering him whatever he wanted. And it was the purest form of hell when he broke the kiss and walked away.