Page 11 of Inked Obsession

“It’s fine. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

I looked down at my watch. “I actually need to meet my in-laws, I’m sorry. I can’t stay. I mean, you’re welcome to come in. It is your family’s house.”

Beckett shook his head. “No, I should go home and shower before my next meeting. I have to meet Clay.”

“How is he?” I asked, my voice warming at the thought of Beckett’s assistant project manager. Clay was a nice guy, and I adored his three cousins. He was raising them himself and doing so well with it. It always put a little hitch in my breath thinking about him with children compared to my empty house. Once again, I ignored it. Because it wasn’t like anything would change with regards to that.

“I’m not going to be in your house when you’re not here. I’m not your landlord. My sister is.”

“Well, you did help build this place, didn’t you?” I asked, teasing now.

Beckett snorted. “Yes, that was me. However, I’m going to head home and shower so you can get to brunch. You okay with that? I actually didn’t know you were still talking with them.”

He backed up so I could close and lock the door. “I’ll be fine. I haven’t seen them in about a month, but they called and said they wanted to meet. I know this is hard for them, too, so I’m going to do my best to make sure they know that I’m always here if they need me.”

“What about you? I know you have brothers, loads of them, but they’re not around here, are they?”

“Well, two of them were just in town,” I said quickly.

“Really?”

I smiled, thinking of my big brothers and their growly attitudes. “Yes, but it was for work. Actually, they’re all getting out of the military soon, and they want me to move down to where we spent the most time—home.”

Beckett’s eyes widened, and he reached out, placing his hand on my arm for a moment before he dropped it. I tried not to think of the warmth on my skin. What was wrong with me?

“You mean Texas? You’re moving?”

“No, I’m not. At least, I don’t think so.” I started to ramble. “I mean, I don’t know. I like it up here. I have friends. My brothers would be down there, so I don’t know. It’s just a lot right now, and with everything coming up soon and then this meeting with my in-laws, I really don’t want to think about any of it. Is that okay?” I asked, tears threatening to fall.

Beckett cursed under his breath, lowered the toolbox, and opened his arms. “Come here.”

“I’m not letting you hug me,” I whispered.

“Why not”? he growled.

I did not like that growl. Not one bit. I was fine. I wasn’t going to think about the fact that it did things to me that I didn’t need to think about. I sighed and stepped forward into his arms. I wrapped mine around his waist, and he held me close. I did my best not to inhale his masculine scent. I didn’t want to know what he smelled like. I didn’t want to acknowledge what it did to me.

Something was seriously wrong with me.

I was about to see my late husband’s parents. I shouldn’t be thinking about another man. This was wrong on so many levels.

“Anyway,” I said as I pulled back and sniffed. “I’m fine. I’m going to see my in-laws, have a nice brunch, maybe a glass of champagne, and then come home and wash my hair.”

His gaze moved to the top of my head, and I blushed, mortified that I had let that slip.

“There’s something wrong with your hair?” he asked, a laugh in his voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, if you need me, I’ll be around. I promise I’ll call next time.”

“You’re a good man, Beckett.”

“You keep saying that,” he said with a sigh. “A good man would have called instead of just showing up and taking your time. I don’t want you to be late.”

I cursed and looked down at my watch again. “You’re right. Iamgoing to be late. However, thank you. I mean it. And thank you in advance for helping me with any handyman things I need. I’ll talk to you soon.” I rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek then ran to my car.

It wasn’t until I was pulling out of the driveway, leaving him standing on my walkway, that I realized I had just kissed Beckett Montgomery’s cheek. Something I had never done before. What in the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t that I wanted to want Beckett—I didn’t know if I wanted to wantanyone. I just needed to breathe.

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