Page 111 of Bet On Me, Daddy

Two daysafter pouring his heart out to Ice, Beckett found himself standing on the steps of a house he hadn’t visited in years. He should have, he realized with a pang of guilt as he reached for the doorbell. Should have called more, should have visited, should have done… something.

Anything.

But he’d been a coward then, and he was apparently still a fucking coward, because he couldn’t quite bring himself to press the button, alerting them to his presence.

He’d just about made up his mind to turn around and walk away when the front door opened, making him jump.

Okay, he could see why Ruby hated that so much.

“Beckett?” The woman behind the screen was older than he remembered, with more gray in her hair, more lines on her face. But still just as beautiful as her daughter had been. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, um…” There’d been a time he’d called her Mama just as easily as his own mother. But he doubted that would be welcome now. “Hi, Mrs. Davis. Sorry to drop by unannounced, I was just kind of in the neighborhood.”

A complete lie, considering their neighborhood was a solid hour from Ice’s house and the complete opposite direction of his own.

Julie’s brows drew together, whether in worry or annoyance, he wasn’t sure. “Well, don’t just stand out there in the freezing cold. Come in. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

And just like that, he was ten years old again, being fussed over by his second mom as she hurried him and Grace in out of the cold. “I’d love some. Thanks.”

“Scott!” she called up the stairs as Beckett followed her inside. “We have company!”

Walking through their house, he was surprised by how much had changed.

And even more by what hadn’t.

The mantle above the fireplace was still lined with Grace’s photos. All of her proudest moments.

Including, he realized as he slowed to a stop, a picture of their wedding day.

Abandoning his quest for hot chocolate, he slowly made his way over. As if in a trance, he picked up the picture in its pretty silver frame.

God, had he ever actually been that young? Some days it felt like he’d been born nearly forty. It was hard to believe he’d once been that gangly, freckle-faced kid with his hair a little too long and his arm wrapped around the girl he loved.

It was almost painful to see his smile now. If only he could go back in time, warn that younger, more naïve version of the pain headed his way.

Would it have changed anything? If he’d known how things would end, would he have made the choice to stop loving Grace? To walk away from her before his heart was ripped from his chest?

Would he have been able to?

“Beckett?”

Jerking his head up from the photo, Beckett stared at Scott Davis, the man he’d once considered a father. Like his wife, Scotthad aged since Beckett had last seen him. But Grace was still there, in the pale blue of his eyes. Grace’s eyes, filled with a grief time had done nothing to dull.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just… go.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned back toward the front door, desperate to get out into the fresh air. Out of this house, filled with so many memories he wondered how they could stand it. How they couldbreathe.

But he was just a few steps from the front door when a hand gripped his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

He forced himself to turn his head, to look in the eyes of the man whose daughter he’d failed. Even though he knew he’d find the same accusations, the same condemnation he’d seen in the mirror every day since they’d lost her, he owed Scott that much, at least.

But there was none of that to be found in the other man’s eyes. No anger, no blame. None of the things he knew he deserved.

Just… love.

“We’ve missed you, son.”

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