Page 19 of Beckett (Warrior Security #2)

“There.” He stood, closing the kit and returning it to the counter. “Coffee sounds good. But I’ve got a meeting with Hunter, my boss at Warrior Security, this morning.”

“Right. Of course.” I tried not to feel disappointed. Getting attached to anyone, especially Beckett, was dangerous. For both of us.

Last night’s kiss hung between us, unmentioned but impossible to ignore.

The way he’d kissed me back—slow and thorough, like I was something precious—had cracked something open inside me.

But then he’d pulled away, cleared his throat, told me to get settled.

Professional distance reasserted like a wall slamming down.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he’d been caught up in the moment, the emotion of giving me the cabin, and now, in the morning light, he wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened.

I couldn’t blame him. Getting involved with someone like me—someone running, someone who might have to disappear at any moment—was asking for heartache. Better to keep things professional. Better for both of us.

“But I’ve got a few minutes.”

My heart did something stupid in my chest that I ignored. “Okay. Great.”

Jet bounced between us like we were the two best things that had ever happened to him as Beckett sat down at the tiny kitchen table. The cabin felt smaller with him in it, his presence filling the space in a way that had nothing to do with his physical size.

“You’ve been busy,” he observed, taking in the clean surfaces, the organized shelves, the small touches that made it look less abandoned.

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well be productive.” I busied myself with the coffee, grateful for something to do with my hands. “It’s amazing what soap and stubbornness can accomplish.”

“Looks good. Homey.”

The word made my throat tight again. Home. Such a simple concept that had become impossibly complicated.

“Jet, down,” Beckett commanded when the dog tried to investigate the broken mug pieces I’d swept into a corner.

Jet dropped immediately, though his tail kept wagging, batting against the floor in a rhythm that sounded like contentment.

Beckett grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner and swept up the pieces, throwing them into the trash.

“Thanks.” I knew my smile was awkward, but I kept it in place. “I’ll have to be more careful. I’m down to my last two mugs.”

“We can get you more.”

“You mentioned your boss Hunter. What exactly does Warrior Security do?” I asked, handing Beckett a mug. Our fingers brushed, just for a second, but it was enough to send warmth racing up my arm.

“Private security, protection details, threat assessment.” He leaned against the counter, careful not to crowd me.

“Hunter Everett started it about a year ago, since the Resting Warrior Ranch guys are all settled down now with wives and kids. They want to focus on what the ranch was originally created for: a place where people with PTSD can come for a chance to restart and heal.”

I made my own mug of coffee. “That sounds amazing.”

“It is. That’s why I’m so proud to be a part of the guys who took over the dangerous stuff and let the heroes get a break.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Sounds like the Warrior Security guys are heroes too.”

He smiled just a little. “More like the grunts, but thanks for the sentiment. I like the work.”

“Must be nice, being able to use those skills without having to leave town.”

Something shifted in his expression, a flicker of gratitude maybe. “Yeah. Thought I’d have to move to a city to find that kind of work. Denver, Seattle, somewhere with demand for tactical expertise. But Hunter made it possible to stay in Garnet Bend.”

“You grew up here, right?”

He nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Born and raised. Left for the Army at eighteen, but this place…” He glanced out the window at the mountains in the distance. “It gets in your blood.”

Jet padded over and rested his head on my knee, brown eyes full of uncomplicated affection. I scratched behind his ears, grateful for something to do with my hands.

“Ever think about leaving permanently?” I asked.

His jaw tightened slightly. “Came close once. Was with a woman for a couple years, almost proposed. But she wanted bright lights, big city. Thought Garnet Bend was too small, too limiting.” He shrugged, but I could see the old hurt there. “I realized we wanted different things.”

“Her loss,” I said without thinking.

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and something passed between us. The memory of last night’s kiss, maybe. Or just recognition—two people who’d been hurt, who understood what it meant to choose being alone over being with the wrong person.

“I should go,” he said, straightening. “Meeting with Hunter.”

“Right.” I stood too, Jet immediately gluing himself to my side. “Thanks for bringing Jet. I’m definitely more comfortable having him here. And for…” I gestured vaguely at the cabin, the first aid kit, everything he’d done without asking for explanations.

“Take care of each other,” he said, heading for the door. “I’ll check in later. Got some fence work to do on the south pasture this afternoon if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine.” I walked him to the door, Jet padding alongside. “I’ll start the regular chores in a bit.”

He paused on the porch, looking back. “Audra…”

For a moment, I thought he might acknowledge the kiss, might say something about what was building between us. But then he just nodded.

“See you this afternoon.”

I watched him drive away, one hand on Jet’s head, the other wrapped around my coffee mug. The morning felt different somehow. Lighter. Like maybe I could breathe here, just for today.

“What do you think, boy?” I asked Jet. “Think we can figure this out?”

His tail wagged harder, and I took that as a yes.