Page 135 of When We Break

Beckett sits next to me and turns on the cushion with one knee bent to face me. I mirror the pose, resting my hands on his thighs, and it helps my anxiety a bit when he takes one of my hands in his.

“I’ve been thinking…” He frowns as he looks down at our hands. “Watching you tonight was fucking incredible. I knew you were talented and had a successful career before I met you, but I have to tell you that seeing you on that stage with Mik was—” He shakes his head and looks blankly across the room as if he’s searching for the right words.

I have to take a deep breath to calm myself down.

“It was spectacular,” he continues, smiling softly. “And I think that it occurred to me for the first time just how much you deserve to be on that stage with Mik all the time.”

“Whoa.” I hold up a hand, stopping him before I have a stroke. “Beckett, are youbreaking up with me?”

His eyes widen, and he immediately tugs me onto his lap, wraps his arms around me, and buries his face in my neck.

“Fuck no. Jesus, not in this or any other lifetime.”

A tear runs unchecked down my cheek. “You scared me.”

“No, baby.” He leans back and brushes the tear from my face. “I’m so sorry. I should have led with that.”

I sniff and brush another tear away. Now that the floodgates have opened, it’s hard to close them up again because the thought of him ending this is just …no.

“You’remine.” He cups my cheek, staring deeply into my eyes. “Do you understand me?”

I nod and bite my lip. “Okay. Now that that’s settled, what were you trying to say?”

“Fuck, hold on.” He hugs me again and drags his hand up and down my back. “I need a second because just hearing you say those words fucked me up.”

“I’m sorry, I?—”

“No. No apologies. That’s on me.” He kisses my cheek, then my lips. “I just think that you should dance, baby. Now that The Asshole is gone, and you don’t have to be afraid anymore, you should be free to dance. I’ll commute to New York for the next few years. And you’ll come to me when you’re between projects. Your chickens will miss you, but we’ll figure it out.”

I’m already shaking my head, but he keeps talking.

“I want you to have everything you want. I’m so proud of you, Irish. And I know Mik misses you. You’re too young to retire. We’ll work it out.”

“No.” I take his face in my hands, loving how his whiskers feel against my palms. “No,a ghrá. My life is in Montana at the Double B Ranch. I have chickens to take care of. They’re my responsibility. You said so yourself, and I can’t just abandon them.”

He starts to speak, but I press my hand over his lips, and he narrows his eyes at me.

“I love our home. Our mountains. We’re turning your cabins into a special retreat for sick kids.”

He kisses my fingers, then takes my hand away from his lips. “I can still do that, baby.”

“Not without me, Beckett Blackwell.” I frown at him, shaking my head. “I want to be a part of it. I love my studio and my students, and I want to add yoga classes, too. IloveBitterroot Valley. It’s my community. People smile at me and know me when I walk down the street. Jackie knows I want a huckleberry scone when I walk into The Sugar Studio. Millie knows my coffee order.”

“Millie knows everyone’s coffee order.”

I press my hand to his mouth again.

“I have my Spicy Girls Book Club, and Billie and Dani, along with Alex and the others.” I straddle him now and wrap my arms around his neck. “But most of all, I haveyou, and I don’t want to live away from you for even a day, Beckett. I’m finished with dancing professionally. Mik and I said goodbye to that tonight. Never to him or our friendship, but the dancing is done. My life is with you. My home is with you. Whether at the ranch, on a beach, or on the moon, as long as I’m with you, I’m home.”

“Fuck, I love you, Irish.”

Beckett moves quickly, laying me on my back on the sofa and kissing me. He licks my lips until I open to him, and then he sinks into me as if kissing me is as essential as breathing.

He tugs my robe open and kisses down my chest as he nudges his sweats down his hips. Then he’s inside me, buried so deeply that I don’t know where he ends, and I begin.

He’s still kissing me, cradling my face, and not moving.

“A ghrá, I need you to move.”

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