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Do you have a favorite color?
Do you like dogs?
Have you had a dog?
Do you think I should get a cat instead?
“No cats,” Beck chimed in, putting a quick end to that line of questioning.
Alice pouted for exactly two seconds before she opened her mouth again, this time listing the number of things they’d need to buy to take care of a dog.
I turned in my seat to get a better view of Beck. He’d planted his arm on my headrest the second we exited the city and firmly kept it there. A small, possessive move that had me recalling how we’d woken up this morning, me the little spoon to Beck’s big spoon, his raging erection digging into my ass.
We’d just passed theWelcomesign for the little upstate township that Sebastian Steele called home when I broke into another yawn. We’d only managed a few hours of sleep before Alice pounded on the door. I scrambled like a madwoman to hide under the bed but luckily Beck had the foresight to lock the door before going to bed.
When I yawned again, Beck glanced over at me and then used his turn signal. I sat up straighter as he turned the wrong way.
“I'm stopping to get you coffee,” Beck explained.
I blinked as warmth spread through my chest. “Thank you.”
He lifted a brow, clearly not used to this nice side of me. “You’re welcome, Marks.”
I sank back into my seat, tracing the lines of Beck’s face as he navigated the few streets between us and the town center.
“Can I get a muffin?” Alice asked as we pulled into a parking spot.
Beck answered his daughter as a calendar item flashed across my screen.
Dr. Wozniac - 30 minutes
Shit. I’d forgotten about my therapy appointment. My doctor had a few highly coveted slots on Saturday mornings to accommodate her busier clients and I’d greedily taken one figuring it would be easier than a mid-week session where I was vollying back and forth between Club Deux and The Chateau.
“Everything, okay?” Beck asked, sliding his sunglasses into the top of his black t-shirt.
I lifted my phone. “I have a call in half an hour I need to take.”
He nodded. “We’ll make this quick and find you a quiet space at Sebastian’s.”
The words hit something low in my gut. On instinct, I leaned forward, placing my hands on his thick thigh and I savored the feel of him under my palms. If I inched upjusta little further
“I’m starving,” Alice grumbled from the back seat.
I pulled my hands back as if they’d been burned and reached for the door handle, my lungs desperate for air.
Beck chuckled and unbuckled himself, chatting away with Alice unfazed that I’d just had my hands on him. Yet, still, I could feel his attention on me. The curiosity in his glances as we walked into the homey coffee shop with its mismatched chairs and tables. The regulars in their seats, chatting with neighbors while sipping from unique mugs.
We stood in line, me beside Beck and Alice in front of Beck, leaning back on her dad.
He bumped shoulders with me and mouthed, “You okay?”
I nodded. The therapy session didn’t scare me like it had when I’d first tried right after the incident. I’d only met with my new therapist once and we just clicked. Which felt weird, but also amazing, and left me actually looking forward to today’s session. I saw it as a step towardthis, this growing, palpable thing between Beck and me, and even Alice. They were a package deal, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The comfort of the car ride, the safety I feel in his arms—I wanted the possibility of that.Forever.
The idea alone made me dizzy.
But it wouldn’t be possible until I’d worked out enough of my own stuff.
Still, therapy was helping. Talking about the past, putting it out there, understanding the trauma and my coping mechanisms and finding healthier coping mechanisms…it had a compounding effect, chipping away at the mental blocks that stopped me from being ready, being fully healthy—or healthy enough—to give this thing a real go.