Something Unexpected by Vi Keeland
CHAPTER 13
Beck
IT’S BEEN TOOdamn long.
The following week, I forced myself to go out, though I hadn’t been in the mood at all. But one look at Chelsea Redmond in the two-piece dress she had on, her nipples piercing through the silky material of the top, and I was glad she’d been persistent.
She took the seat next to me at the bar after returning from the bathroom and leaned to whisper, “The way you were just watching me. It looked like you want to skip dinner.” She gave me a sultry smile. “We can do that, if you’d like.”
I’m definitely getting laid. Thank fuck.
Not that I’d doubted Chelsea would be up for it. We’d gone out a few times before, and every time the evening ended the same way—with me back at her place. But I had started to worry I wouldn’t be up for it.
I hadn’t been in the mood lately. Well, that’s not entirely true. It was more like I hadn’t been in the mood to have sex with anyone else. My right hand had been there for the task plenty of times in recent days—twice yesterday after Nora had posted videos on her blog of her riding a horse at the ranch she and my grandmother were visiting. Up and down. Up and down. Fuck, I couldn’t think about that now or I’d wind up needing to use the men’s room. Plus, it was a dick move to do that shit while I was out with Chelsea.
The hostess walked over, letting us know our table was ready. I was glad, because Chelsea hadn’t been kidding about her offer.
“Are we staying?” she said.
I took her hand and yanked her from her seat, wrapping her in my arms. “Yeah, I’m gonna feed you first,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re going to need the energy later.”
Chelsea rubbed her tits against me and preened. “I can’t wait.”
Once seated, we ordered a bottle of wine, and I listened to stories of all the famous people she’d met since the last time I saw her. Chelsea was a flight attendant on a private airline that catered to Hollywood types. I wasn’t much into celebrity gossip, but I nodded along and tried not to let my mind wander too much. She was in the middle of some story about a musician who threw a hissy fit because they didn’t have the right brand of sparkling water when my cell buzzed on the table.
It was face down, but I glanced over at it. Not too many people would text me on a Friday night at nine o’clock. My brother, Jake, maybe—though he’d more than likely be out partying by now. So I flipped my phone over. Nora flashed on the screen.
It’s probably just another video or some pics of Gram.Nora was the absolute last person I should’ve opened a text from on a date. I’d been having enough trouble getting her out of my mind since I’d returned from the Bahamas.
I’m not going to open it.
Focus on your date—the ready, willing, and very able woman sitting in front of you.
I dragged my eyes back to Chelsea, to the creamy skin on her delicate neck, and all of the things I would be doing to it in a few hours. But then my cell buzzed again. And I couldn’t stop myself from staring at Nora’s name.
This time, instead of giving me a pass, Chelsea gestured to my phone. “Do you need to get that? Who’s Nora?”
I didn’t want her to feel bad, so I used the truth to my advantage. “Sorry. She’s the woman traveling with my grandmother.” I realized I’d never told Chelsea that my grandmother was sick, or even that she was the woman who’d raised me. We didn’t have that type of relationship. So I added, “My grandmother has some health issues.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Why don’t you get it then?”
Great. Now I had the woman I should be paying attention to urging me to check in with the one I shouldn’t befocused on. I shook my head. “Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.”
I swiped my phone to find a few pictures—my grandmother in a cowboy hat on a horse, my grandmother swinging a lasso around her head while standing in a pen with a steer, some shots of her laughing and roasting marshmallows around a campfire—but it was the last picture that stopped me in my tracks. Nora sat on a wooden fence, wearing black fringe chaps and a matching cowboy hat. Her smile stretched ear to ear, and I couldn’t stop staring. I was a little annoyed when Chelsea interrupted.
“What are the pictures of?” she asked.
“Just some pictures of them riding horses and stuff. They’re at a ranch in Montana.”
“I thought you said your grandmother was sick?”
I had said her health wasn’t good, not that she was sick. But I also didn’t feel like explaining or sharing what was going on. “Looks like she’s feeling better.”
Chelsea smiled. “Oh, that’s great. Can I see?”
My brows drew together.
She gestured to the phone. “The pictures of your grandmother.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess so.”
I didn’t feel like sharing, yet I swiped back to the first picture and turned the phone so she could see. Chelsea plucked the phone from my hand and swiped through them all. She stopped at the last one, too.
“Who’s this?”
“Nora. My grandmother’s friend.”
Chelsea looked up at me. “She’s beautiful.”
I shrugged, trying to cut off the conversation. Luckily, the waiter came by and took care of that for me. I slipped my phone from Chelsea’s hand, and by the time we were done ordering dinner, my date seemed to have forgotten all about the photos. She went back to rambling on about another celebrity.
But I couldn’t get the pictures out of my mind—not during dinner and not after, when Chelsea invited me back to her place.
I wanted to want to go home with her in the worst way. Lord knows I hadn’t had sex in what felt like forever. But that ship had now sailed. It made me miserable to decline.
“I have an early morning, so I think I’m going to head home.”
Chelsea looked as confused as my insides felt. “Really?” She pushed her bottom lip into a pout. “Come for an hour or two. It’s only ten thirty.”
“Another time, maybe?”
She shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s a good sign that we went out even if you weren’t looking to get laid. I was starting to think you were only interested in one thing.”
Shit. Talk about reading the room wrong. Now she thought I was interested in more than just sex, when I wasn’t even interested in that with her anymore. I’d have to cut things off entirely after tonight. But right now, I didn’t feel like having that conversation. I just wanted to go home.
“I’ll grab us a cab and have them drop you off first.”
A half hour later, I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter. Bitsy greeted me with her usual growling and barking, then ran down the hall to Maddie’s room, though my daughter wouldn’t be back for a few more days.
I wasn’t tired, so I headed to the cabinet and poured two fingers of whiskey. Kicking off my shoes, I put my feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. Nothing caught my attention as I flicked around, so I turned the TV back off and picked up my laptop to check my calendar for tomorrow instead. But it opened to the last website I’d visited—Nora’s blog.
Great. Just great.
She’d posted another video, too.
It’s probably more of her riding. Because the hour I’d already spent watching the thirty-second recording of her going up and down, up and down wasn’t enough. The woman was a menace. I needed to ignore the video, wipe my search history from my laptop’s memory, and block her webpage.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.
I sucked back a mouthful of my drink, staring at the screen.
Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?
I’d left a sure thing to come home because a picture had distracted me. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was leaving this video unwatched. So I stopped fighting it and hit play.
“Howdy, y’all.” Nora smiled at the camera. “How did that sound? Can I pull off a howdy? I kind of like it. It’s friendlier than a New York chin lift and what’s up, don’t you think? Anywho… for those of you joining our vlog for the first time, welcome to Live Like You’re Dying, episode eighteen—a docuseries of the extraordinary end of Louise Aster’s life. If you’d like to know more about Louise’s diagnosis and treatment decisions...” Nora pointed down, and some words popped up on the screen. “Just click over to Live Like You’re Dying, episode one, which should be right there on the bottom of your screen. If you’re already familiar with our series, you know that Louise is busy enjoying her life—living every day like it might be her last—and these last two days have been no different. This week, we’re out in Montana at Sunny Acres Ranch, riding horses and corralling cattle, something we don’t get to do too much of in New York City. We hope you’ll find these new videos inspiring, and maybe you’ll go out and live your days as if they could be your last. So without further ado—oh wait.” She held up a finger. “Before I move on to the highlight reel, I wanted to show you what Louise and I picked up at the souvenir store today.” Nora set the camera down and held open her jacket. She had on a pink T-shirt that read: World’s Okayest Horse Rider.
She spoke to someone off camera and waved them over. “Hey. I want to show our followers your new T-shirt. Come here.”
My grandmother walked over and opened her jacket, flashing a shit-eating grin. Her T-shirt was also pink, but this one read: Save a horse. Ride a cowboy.
I chuckled. Figures.
After that, there was about ten minutes of footage of Gram riding, corralling steer from atop a horse, shooting a bow and arrow at a target, and nailing a bullseye. Even I had to smile. It was pretty damn inspiring to watch, especially knowing her age and how cancer had ravaged her body.
After the videos were done, Nora came back on screen.
“I’ve received a ton of emails from people wanting to donate to a charity that supports end-of-life adventures.” She pointed up this time, and words flashed above her head. “So I’ve added some links to amazing organizations for those of you who want to contribute. You can even donate in the name of a loved one.” She waved at the camera. “That’s it for today. Stop back soon for more adventures, and remember—live every day like it’s your last!”
The screen froze on Nora’s smiling face. I finished off my whiskey, enjoying the view. Once my shoulders relaxed a bit, I picked up my phone to text Nora back and see how Gram’s cough was doing. I hadn’t responded to her photos from earlier, so I started there.
Beck: Great pics. Thanks for sharing. How is Annie Oakley’s cough?
A few seconds later my phone vibrated.
Nora: dhr’s frrling netted
My brows drew together. I typed back.
Beck: They serve wine at chow time?
A minute went by, and then my phone rang. Nora.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Sorry about that. My new cell is on the fritz. I’m outside, and it’s pretty dark. For some reason, it illuminates when messages come in, but it won’t light up for me to send a response. I was guessing where the keys were. Guess I didn’t do so well?”
“Let’s put it this way, I thought you were drunk.”
Nora laughed, and I felt a warmth run through me. Must be heartburn from that wine at dinner.
“Her cough is about the same,” Nora said. “No better, but also no worse. It’s definitely not holding her back any. I’m having a hard time keeping up with her this week.”
Music played in the background. It had been pretty loud when she first started talking, but it faded now. I thought maybe she’d walked outside at a bar or something.
“Where are you?”
“At a bonfire. The ranch we’re staying at does one every night. It’s pretty amazing. They make the biggest fire I’ve ever seen, and then some of the cowboys sit around and play music.”
“Sounds like fun.”
She laughed. “I bet you’d hate it. Though your daughter could definitely earn her wilderness badge out here.”
In the background, I heard a man’s voice. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Hang on a second, Beck, okay?”
“Yep.”
The conversation became muffled, but I could still hear what they were saying.
“Is everything okay with Louise?” Nora asked.
“She’s fine,” the man said. “Was looking for you to see if you wanted to take a ride down to a pasture not too far from here. It’s got some of the best stargazing in the state of Montana.”
“Oh, that sounds nice. When are you all leaving?”
“Whenever you want. Was hoping it would just be me and you.”
“Oh…”
“Sorry,” the man said. “I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
“I’ll be off in a minute.”
“No rush. Come find me, if you’re up for it.”
“Thanks.”
My fists clenched. Great. I had the urge to beat the crap out of a cowboy.
Nora came back on the phone. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”
“You were telling me my grandmother’s cough is about the same, but I’m wondering if you’ve been too busy to notice any change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head, hating myself. “I should go. Be careful.”
“Fine. Have a wonderful evening, Beck.” Nora’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
Whatever. I swiped off and tossed my phone on the couch cushion next to me. Then I proceeded to pour more whiskey—this time, I filled the glass three-quarters full, rather than stopping at a reasonable amount.
I was still stewing after knocking back half, when my phone buzzed again.
Nora: I declined the cowboy’s invitation. Figured I’d let you know since you sounded concerned for my safety…or something.
I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more—the fact that I was so transparent to Nora, or that my jaw unclenched after hearing she wasn’t riding off to some pasture with a cowboy. Of course, I would deny both. I texted back.
Beck: I wasn’t jealous, if that’s what you’re insinuating.
Nora: Mmm-hmm…
Beck: I wasn’t.
Nora: He wasn’t my type anyway.
Beck: Why not?
I sucked back more of my drink, watching the dots jump around.
Nora: Well, today he asked me if I’d ever considered moving out west. The man is looking for a wife.
Beck: That’s right. I forgot your type was no-strings-attached.
Nora: Preferably one whose custom-made slacks can’t hide the third leg he’s walking around with.
My lip twitched. Apparently all I needed was a little stroking of the ego to soothe the jealous beast within. I typed back.
Beck: I can be there in five hours.
Nora: LOL. Considering I haven’t ventured back on Tinder since Married Guy turned me sour, I might take you up on it, if you keep offering.
I felt better and better by the minute.
Beck: Now you’re talking…
Nora: How about you? Any dates lately?
Beck: I actually had one tonight.
I watched as the little dots jumped around, stopped, then started again.
Nora: What is it, about eleven thirty in New York now? A little early to be home from a date, isn’t it?
Beck: Wasn’t into it tonight.
Nora: Why not?
Beck: Just wasn’t.
Nora: Hmmm…
Thirty seconds later, another text popped up.
Nora: What are you into tonight, Beck?
I was more excited at the thought of a little sexting with a woman two-thousand miles away than I’d been at the prospect of going home with my actual date for the evening.
Beck: Considering I’m home all alone and you declined my offer to hop on a flight, I could be into some pictures…
Nora: What type of pictures?
The liquor had definitely kicked in now. I didn’t want to come off like a dirtbag and tell her to send me some skin shots—even if that’s exactly what I wanted. Instead, I treaded lightly.
Beck: The bikini one with the dolphin was kind of nice.
Again the dots jumped around, then stopped for a few minutes before my phone vibrated again.
Nora: Goodnight, Beck.
I sighed. Guess I’d pushed things too far.
A half hour later, I was in the bathroom getting undressed when my phone buzzed again. It was Nora, and when I opened the text, a video popped up.
She was standing to the side with her camera pointed at the mirror, wearing the same pair of leather chaps with fringe down the sides that she’d been wearing earlier. She zoomed in on her bottom half and then turned until her ass was facing me.
Jesus.
Freaking.
Christ.
And I do mean her ass was facing me—because she had on only a thong under those assless chaps now. She bent, giving me an amazing close-up of two big round globes, and then looked back over her shoulder and winked right before the video stopped.
I pressed play twice more before I even realized another text had come in after.
Nora: Sweet dreams.
I shut my eyes, trying to calm down, but that only made things worse. A visual of my hand leaving a print on that beautiful ass had my eyes springing open and searching for the play button yet again. I watched the video one more time before swallowing and typing back.
Beck: There will be nothing sweet in my dreams tonight as I imagine all the things I would do to that ass if it were here.
