Page 14 of Playing with Fire

Beckett waited worriedly for a reply, but his worry dissipated the moment his phone vibrated.

Wild Woman:Who doesn’t keep their phone on silent these days? And you didn’t wake me, just interrupted my nightly reading. That’s okay though. I suppose the 17thcentury can wait for a minute or two.

Beckett:A time traveler, huh? I enjoy the occasional historical fiction novel myself, though latelyI’ve been much more interested in current events.

Wild Woman:And what events would those be?

Smirking, Beckett typed out his reply, hoping that Willa wasn’t lying the other day when she had told him subtlety was overrated.

Beckett:Trivia night at Branch and Brew on Saturday night. I happen to be off that day and would love to take you, that is, if you’re okay being paired with someone who only knows the answers to sports questions.

Time dragged as Beckett watched the little dots dance on the screen and disappear, only to show up again. It was the worst kind of tease and his heartbeat was erratic as he waited for Willa’s reply.

Wild Woman:I think I can more than make up for any deficiencies you might have. Dinner before or during?

Apparently, Willa had been telling the truth about not being subtle. Beckett loved how direct she was despite her somewhat hesitant nature when it came to him.

Beckett:During, if that works for you. Pick you up at six?

Wild Woman:It’s a date. Goodnight, Beck.

Beckett:Sweet dreams, Wild Woman.

The dreams Beckett had between Wednesday and Saturday evening were anything but sweet. They were spicy as hell. He hoped that he and Willa could turn a few of those dreams into a reality soon. Fantasizing about Willa laid out in his bed without a stitch of clothing on seemed to be a nightly occurrence that had even spilled over into working hours. The other day Beckett was washing the fire engine when he suddenly started imagining getting Willa all wet and soapy in his shower and damn near sprayed the chief in the face when the manwalked up behind him and startled Beckett out of his reverie.

Even now as Willa sat across from Beckett at the high-top table in his brother’s brewery, her body encased in a flowing, paisley dress that split so high up the middle that the creamy, ivory skin of her legs was on full display, he was having a hard time concentrating on coming up with answers to the trivia questions. Round after round came and went with him forgetting just about everything he knew about sports, statistics, and all-star player’s names vanishing with every twitch of her perfect body and lick of her pretty pink lips. All Beckett could think about was how much he wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her.

When he missed another easy response to the question of who won the Heisman trophy in 1985, he tossed the pencil down on the table and sat back on his stool, pouting. “Well, Bo Jackson may know football, but, apparently, I don’t know shit.”

Willa tittered at him from across the small wooden table, a smirk stretching across her pretty face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she admitted, nabbing a fry off the plate between them.

When Willa couldn’t decide between fries or loaded potato skins, Beckett ordered both for them to split. It was worth any extra cost just to see the smile light up her face when he had. Beckett watched with rapt attention as she dragged the golden stick through a pool of red ketchup before popping it into her mouth, his breath hitching when he thought about how the combination of salty and sweet would taste on her lips. His mind was still stuck on that thought when she started speaking again.

“So what was it like growing up on an apple farm? How are you not sick of eating them?” She pointed at his apple cider glazed Brussels sprouts with peppered bacon and raised a brow.

Chuckling, Beckett shrugged and popped another bite into his mouth, enjoying the sweet and spicy flavors. “I guessit’s in my blood now,” he told her as he wiped his mouth. After pondering her question a little further, he decided to stick with the directness that had led him well thus far. “And growing up on the farm was actually as picture perfect as you can get, though I think most of that had to do with my parents as much as it did the orchard itself. Mom and Dad were pretty great, always telling us how proud they were of our accomplishments even when it was something small, and making time for each of us growing up despite being busy with not only the business but five of us running around as well.”

Willa smiled and started ticking her fingers. “It’s Aiden, then you, Travis, Nate, and Felix. Did I get it?” She looked beyond pleased at the prospect of getting his family’s names correct. That alone warmed his heart. She had shown so much interest in getting to know all about him, but one thing Beckett had noticed over the course of the evening was that when he tried to do the same, she tended to deflect.

“Yeah, you got it. Growing up as one of five wasn’t always easy, but I love my brothers and wouldn’t trade a single one of them for anything.” Reaching across the table, Beckett held his hand out palm up, hoping Willa would trust him enough to place her hand in his. When she did so with a shy smile on her lips, he felt like he may as well have won the lottery. Beckett’s arm tingled as he tried to concentrate on their conversation. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

Willa’s eyes dimmed. He worried that perhaps he had inadvertently stepped into a messy topic, but Willa lightened up again as she gazed over at him. “I didn’t have anything nearly as awesome as a bunch of brothers and apple trees to play in, but my upbringing wasn’t so bad.” She stared off into the distance.

When Willa’s gaze returned to Beckett, it was more resigned than wistful. He worried that her childhood might not have been as amazing as his. “I don’t have any siblings, butI always had friends to make up for any loneliness I felt. My parents were…” She trailed off for a moment before huffing. “Well-meaning would probably be the best word for it. They wanted what’s best for me, and still do I suppose, but what they think is best and what I do differs greatly most of the time.”

“How so?” Beckett had the feeling that it was about more than how she was raised, though clearly there was a story there as well.

Willa’s face scrunched adorably for a moment. “I don’t come from money, so when I worked hard enough to earn a college scholarship, they thought that choosing a degree in ethics and administration was a waste of a good opportunity. Things only got worse when I chose my career. They thought my desire to be an administrative assistant was aiming too low and that I should have tried harder to get a better-paying job, but I like helping people in that way. It’s not as noble or exciting as helping people as a firefighter, but it makes me happy.”

Beckett got so distracted by how much he loved her expression that he almost missed her talking again. The sight of Willa’s lips pulling into a wry smile had him laughing. “Well, I wouldn’t call washing a fire truck and getting cats out of trees exciting,” Beckett offered, running his thumb across the back of her hand, getting somewhat distracted by the feel of her silky skin. “But every now and then I get really lucky and get to play hero for a beautiful damsel in distress.”

Willa regarded him with a coy smile. “Beautiful, huh?” Her grip on his hand tightened, her finger running lightly over the rapid pulse in his wrist. Beckett was tempted to topple the table between them so he could pull her body into his, and it turned from temptation to need when he saw her tongue peek out and touch the corner of her mouth. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself, Beck.”

The words were music to his ears. Beckett seriouslyreconsidered his stance on public displays of affection for a moment before deciding to keep things PG. This was his brother’s place of business. He didn’t want to cause Felix any trouble. Furthermore, Applewood was a small town. There was no need to add fodder to the rumor mill, even if he wouldn’t care if the whole town knew how badly he wanted Willa. Still, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand sitting across from her without having tasted her at least once.

“Thank you.” Beckett’s eyes darted to the back door of the brewery as a light bulb went off in his mind. “Say, have you ever actually seen how cider is stored?” Willa shot him a questioning look, which was understandable given how cider storage was about as exciting as watching paint dry, before shaking her head. “Want to?”

“Sure.” At her agreement, Beckett slipped from his stool, his hand never leaving hers as Willa followed him to the back room where Felix kept the payoff of all his cider brewing. His brother was currently busy behind the bar, but he gave Beckett an approving nod when he saw him approach the door.

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