Page 51 of Dust Storm

“Because he’s abysmal to be around.”

“He’s just driven,” I countered, though I didn’t know why I was defending him. He had done nothing but throw me under the bus, then lock me away.

Out of sight, out of mind.

“Can I be mean for a second?” she blurted out.

I raised my eyebrows. “Is anything stopping you?”

“Not really, and the baby hormones overpower my filter.” She looked rather fired up and I was more than a little curious.

“Then by all means…”

“Tripp is the worst. If I could hit him with a dump truck, I would.”

I couldn’t help the unladylike laugh that ripped out of my chest. “I wish you weren’t pregnant. I need someone to get wine drunk with.”

She smirked. “Chris would be a great drinking buddy.”

Oh god no. The fireworks that sizzled between the two of us nearly scorched me when he picked me up from the nail salon. I didn’t know what would happen if I let my guard down around him.

“Tripp is…” I tried to think of some redeeming quality that would help me come to his defense, but I fell short.

“Look,” Becks said. “I get it. I loved the city. I love the grind. But maybe being out here isn’t a bad thing. When I pulled away from it all, I found Nathan. But I found myself, too. Are you really happy or are you just acting happy because the sum of your personal and professional life says you’re supposed to be?”

Was she right? Was I just holding on to him because it was what I was supposed to want?

Instead of admitting that the comment hit a little too close to home, I flipped my hair. “I’m successful. I’ll take that over happiness any day.”

“You work for success. You deserve happiness.”

I pressed my lips together. “Look at you. Already armed with the cliché parent-isms.”

The door swung open and Christian filled the frame. My blood sang at the mere sight of him.

Blue jeans that were pale and faded with age clung to his ass and thighs. They stretched and strained as he strode across the office. His boots thumped heavily against the cement floor.

“Becks,” he said as a no-nonsense greeting.

I could respect that.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

And there he went with the feelings again. Absolutely unnecessary.

“Tired. Everything hurts. I think I broke a rib after being punched from the inside all night long.” Becks huffed. “But I’ll get out of your hair. I’ve got a nap calling my name.”

Christian gave her a sympathetic smile. “Want me to drive you up to the house?”

“Nah.” She eased out of the chair. “Thanks, but I’m trying to get this baby to drop.”

He nodded as he walked behind me and braced his hands on the desk, trapping me between them as he reached for the desktop computer mouse. “Sit tight. I just have to print something off.”

I stiffened as his chest pressed against the back of my head.

Becks pointed between Christian and me and wiggled her eyebrows as she mouthed, “Oh my god!”

I rolled my eyes as the printer spat out a sheet of paper. “Go take your nap.”

---