Page 86 of Banter & Blushes #1

BECKETT

B eck headed toward the storage room in the dark, determined to find something to warm them up before deciding what Caroline just meant.

Love .

Her voice echoed in his head. She said it casually, maybe even involuntarily; but she said it. A flutter of hope and panic vied for his attention. She couldn’t mean it the way it sounded. It was … too soon.

Wasn’t it?

Reaching the storage room, Beck fumbled around in the dark until he found the edge of a shelving unit filled with empty cardboard boxes, paint cans, and extension cords.

He was familiar with the layout, so he kept moving in the dark, feeling his way through a mess of crates and plastic bins until he finally felt what he was looking for.

A stack of faded, folded fabric. Jackpot.

He grabbed two sweatshirts, shook them out, and headed back toward the main room of the bait shop.

He wanted to make sure he misread nothing before he finally told Caroline the real reason he had to go away. As he entered the retail portion of the store, he heard Caroline lightly singing, her voice lifting above the noise of the rain.

Love.

He could almost hear a distant, teasing chorus in his head: Oh, Beckett. What have you gone and done now ?

She stopped singing when she heard him approach. “I found a candle in the drawer. I know it isn’t ideal.”

“It will work just fine. Here.” He held out a sweatshirt. “Not sure if this is your style. It’s got a vintage bait shop vibe.”

She lifted the shirt up to the flickering candlelight, her laughter echoing softly as she examined the quirky logo: a marlin sporting a pair of stylish sunglasses, leaping energetically from a field of vibrant bluebells.

“How have I never come across this before?” she mused, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“You definitely don’t want whoever designed a giant fish jumping out of flowers setting foot anywhere near the town,” came the lighthearted reply.

Caroline slipped the garment over her head, the well-worn, faded blue fabric enveloping her petite frame. “Not exactly haute couture, is it?” she quipped, twirling slightly and inspecting her reflection from different angles. “But at least it’s cozy,” she added with a satisfied grin.

Beck, meanwhile, casually tossed his shirt onto the counter before peeling off his current attire.

He then tugged on the sweatshirt, allowing the soft fabric to embrace his skin.

As he maneuvered his head through the opening, he caught sight of Caroline observing him intently.

Her gaze quickly darted away, a subtle blush creeping onto her cheeks as she turned in the opposite direction, pretending to be preoccupied.

“Want me to kill the lights and turn up the stereo?” Beck teased.

“Retro clothing and a romantic soundtrack against the thundering of the storm? You know how to set a scene, Beckett.” She crossed her arms, watching him with a playful glint, which refused to hide her affection.

“Who can resist ambiance?” He turned more serious, meeting her eyes.

He needed to know if he was right about her feelings. If he could admit his own.

“Caroline, about what you said?—”

Her cheeks deepened to a darker pink. “Can we pretend I didn’t say it, please?” Her voice wavered with uncertainty.

It was the first time Beck had seen her this vulnerable, without the armor of plans and goals. It tightened something in his chest.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“We should probably eat,” she suggested, her voice echoing slightly in the empty, unfinished room.

She grabbed the crinkled paper bag filled with their makeshift dinner and moved to where large, white paint buckets were neatly lined up on the bare concrete floor.

“Sorry, I don’t have plates or fine silverware,” she said as she settled onto a bucket, using another as a makeshift table.

With a playful grin, she held up a packet of plastic silverware. “I do have a spork.”

“Sharing banana cream pie and a spork? The wonders never cease,” he replied with a chuckle, settling onto a bucket beside her.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of napkins, setting them down before retrieving a Styrofoam container.

As he pried open the lid, a cloud of steam wafted up, carrying the savory aroma of meatballs and gravy.

“I’m surprised it is still warm,” he remarked, his stomach growling in anticipation.

She handed him the plastic utensil, a hybrid between a spoon and a fork.

With a gentle motion, he scooped up a piece of the savory meatballs nestled alongside a mound of creamy mashed potatoes.

Carefully, he guided the bite-sized portion towards her, the rich aroma of seasoned meat mingling with the buttery scent of potatoes as they approached.

She took the bite, her lips dragging over the plastic utensil.

He lifted a spoonful of creamy gravy and potatoes to his lips, savoring the rich aroma before taking a bite. With a gentle smile, he scooped another portion onto the spork, turning to Caroline.

“Are you trying to feed me?” she asked as the container switched hands. Beck watched her devour another bite, her expression delighted. “It’s pretty good,” she said, modestly. “Even without a fancy table or a cozy porch.”

“You know…” Beck’s voice lingered, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air.

“What?” Caroline’s cheeks flushed as she attempted to evade his inquiry, her gaze focused on the contents of the container. She kept her eyes downcast, watching him chase some mashed potatoes with the spork.

“Nothing.”

Beck offered her the last bite, but she shook her head. Polishing off the last of the dinner, he closed the container and put it back in the bag.

“Do you want the pie now or later?”

“I can wait. Just don’t forget where the spork is.”

Caroline’s eyes finally met his again, and the intensity in them was undeniable. She swallowed and took a breath. “Beck, about what I said. I didn’t mean to make it…”

“Complicated?” Beck finished, observing her. With a soft sigh, she nodded. And it was all it took for him to find a small crack in her resolve. Just enough. “What if it’s not complicated?”

“Then what is it?”

“Simple.” He shifted on the bucket, knowing he could fall but not caring. “I thought I’d be long gone by now, Caroline. I promised one afternoon, but I can’t stay away. It’s not just the project.”

“The project won’t matter anymore.”

“Because?”

“I’m stepping down as mayor after I get out of here.”

“What?” Beck said, eyes wide. “You?”

“Yeah. Me,” Caroline replied. “I’ve been working my tail off and sometimes I think I’m the only one who cares about this. Everyone else is just making up squares on a bingo card. Why should I keep working if no one cares?”

“So, I’m not the only one trying to run away?”

She arched a brow, wondering if Beck was as serious as his voice seemed. “I’m not running away. I’m quitting. There’ s a difference.”

“What happened, Hollis? What happened in the few days I’ve been gone?”

“When I thought I was here alone, it made me realize I should never have let Daddy talk me into this. I did not know what I was in for when I agreed, and it’s turning out all wrong.”

“Seems right to me,” he whispered, the words heavier than the rain. “And you aren’t alone.”

“Is it?” Caroline paused as if she was measuring his resolve. “What are we doing, Beck?”

“We’re eating dinner in a bait shop and wearing ridiculous shirts,” he replied, but his smile didn’t reach the uncertainty in his eyes. “And maybe we’re admitting what we want.”

“I don’t know what I want. I’ve just gone from one project to the next.”

“Was this just a project to you?”

“I don’t want to see Bluebell Bay shrivel up like so many of the small tourist towns.”

“Are we just a project?” She shook her head. Beck reached over and grabbed her hand. “Don’t quit, Caroline. Not on the town. Not on us. We need you.”

“You need me?”

“More than you know.”

Her lips parted in a small gasp. The storm wasn’t the only thing building now. But she didn’t let go of his hand, either.

She squeezed it and moved a little closer to close the gap between them. Her pulse raced as she leaned in, and Beck was overwhelmed. With her stubbornness, with her beauty, with the terrifying possibility this could be more than he let himself believe.

“Didn’t get you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “But I’m thinking I should.”

He kissed her slowly and deep, letting everything go which kept him from telling her she was all he wanted. The world shifted, and he had the same dizzy rush of speed he felt when he walked in the door. After all the weeks of trying to outrun this, it caught him. And he didn’t want to escape.

Caroline was the one who finally drew back from the kiss. Beck gently pulled her onto his lap and encircled her with his arms, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go. “I went home to visit my parents,” he explained.

“Your parents?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “They live in Pennsylvania. I had some matters to discuss with them. It’s why it took me longer to get back home. I got caught in the snarl of traffic leaving Philly and then hit the storm.”

Her brow furrowed with concern. “I was worried when you didn’t call me.”

“I needed to sort through some things,” he admitted, his gaze earnest.

“Did you sort them out?” she asked softly.

With a tender smile, he reached up to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I did. Do you think eight weeks is too soon to fall in love with someone? ”

“What did you say?” Caroline leaned back; her eyes were wide as she perched on the edge of his leg.

“I know we’ve only known each other for just a few weeks, but I’ve met no one quite like you. You snuck up on me, but I’m glad you did,” he confessed, sincerity in every word.

Caroline placed a hand over her heart, feeling the flutter beneath her palm. “And you went to talk this over with your folks?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, tracing the soft curve of her cheek with the back of his hand. “I convinced them to come down for Memorial Day.”

“Wow,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper, threaded with awe and surprise.

“If I haven’t made it clear, Hollis, let me spell it out for you now. I love you, Caroline Hollis.”

“I wasn’t sure after I just blurted it out,” she admitted, her heart racing.

“I was surprised, but I love you,” he affirmed, sealing his words with a look of pure devotion. “As for the other. You are an excellent mayor because you care about this town. I know as much as they like to instigate things, there is no one on the council who will let you fail.”

“Not even for a free space?”

“Not even for a free space.”

Just then, the lights flickered, and the buzzing overhead made them both jump.

“Did the rain end?” she asked, pulling her hand back and running her fingers through her hair. “Do you think we can get out?”

“Do you have your charger?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Since the power is back, give your phone enough juice to make a phone call. I’ll work on the door.”

Caroline hesitated, and he thought he saw tears fill the corners of her eyes. “I’m sure Gigi has called everyone by now,” she said with a forced laugh.

“Is that how you want to play it?”

With a deep breath, she gave him a soft smile. “Time to charge the phone, I guess.”

“Chicken,” Beck teased, and kissed her lightly enough to make her heart trip over itself.

They both stood. Beck attempted to open the door with renewed determination and was about to give up when a new sound joined the chorus of pounding fists.

“Caroline? Beck?” Their names came over a loudspeaker.

Beck squinted and looked out the window. Blue and red lights flashed near his truck.

“STONE?”

The sheriff appeared outside the door. “Back up, Beck.”

“The door is swollen.”

Caroline appeared next to Beck. “And the lock is jammed.”

“Got it.” He made a motion for them to move and with two solid kicks, the wood snapped, slamming the door open.

“Hey, Grayson,” Beck said, shaking his hand. “We are glad you stopped by.”

“Looks like I found the Bonnie and Clyde of Bluebell Bay,” Grayson said, crossing his arms as they emerged.

“You got a problem, Sheriff?”

“Not during working hours.” He gave them a dry smile, a rarity.

“Not what I meant,” Beck replied. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was making my rounds after the storm and saw your truck.”

Beck caught the smirk in his voice. “Right.”

“Need a lift?”

“Can you take Caroline home?”

Caroline was hurt he didn’t want to drive her. “I need to get my stuff together.”

Gray gave them a long look. “Okay. Well, I’ll be out front. See you in five?”

“Let’s grab everything and go before we’re the top story at The Holler & Fork.”

Beck tried to help her, but Caroline held up her hand. “Don’t, Beck. Just go.”

She put her phone back in the tote and grabbed the last of her trash before running out the door.

“Caroline, wait,” he called, grabbing her arm to face him. “I need to go get Quint from JT’s,” Beck said, pressing a kiss against Caroline’s forehead. “It’s late, so how about I see you tomorrow morning at The Holler?”

Disappointed, Caroline nodded and slid in the front seat of the sheriff’s vehicle. Beck leaned down and looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t … Don’t you dare,” she said, pointing a shaky finger at him.

“Dare, what?”

“Don’t you dare make me cry again, Carter Beckett.”

“I was supposed to get Quint hours ago, and there is something I have to pick up from the house. It’s been a long night. Get some sleep and I promise I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Might as well kiss her goodnight, Beckett,” Sheriff Stone said, sliding into the cruiser. “Everyone knows.”

Beck pressed a kiss against Caroline’s lips. “Remember what I told you.”

She nodded as he closed the door.

Sheriff Stone turned off his cruiser lights and pulled out towards Caroline’s home. “You and Beck, eh?”

“I guess.”

“I bet someone gets Bingo tomorrow.”