Page 17 of A Much Younger Man
“But I can’t stay either, can I?” He must have read the helplessness I was feeling, because he shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”
I let him go with Travis, but I was determined to keep him in St. Nacho’s.
I called Cooper, who answered on the first ring, and told him what had happened—including why Beck couldn’t simply go home to his folks.
“Aw, shit. And of course Tug took the guitar. That was an expensive instrument.”
“Was it?”
“It was pretty nice. All right. First, tell Beck he can stay in our guest room. Shawn already gave me a ration for not inviting him, but I had a feeling Tug was trouble.”
“Thanks. I hope Beck will take you up on it. He can’t go back to his folks.”
“You’d think they wouldn’t want to lose the son they have. God, people suck.” He paused. “I’ll bet we can get a line on local pawnbrokers and resellers. Maybe we can buy Beck’s guitar back.”
“We could try. I have a full day here. You think you could check that out. I don’t have the first idea of where to go looking.”
“Shawn’s off today. I’ll ask him to help. He can go online and make a list of likely places to search, and I’ll do the calling.”
“That’d be really great. If you find it, let me know, and I’ll go get it.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
* * *
When I enteredthe supply room, Travis and Beck each had a kitten and an eyedropper. I stopped in the doorway. My heart warmed at the scene.
Beck’s eyes were on his tiny charge, an orange-and-white girl whose eyes had barely opened. I loved the way his messy brown hair fell onto his forehead and how gentle his long, delicate fingers could be. He looked underfed, and his hair wasn’t clean, but my heart tightened painfully at the thought of never seeing him again.
Was I actually wondering what it would take for him to let me clean him up?
Oh,drat.
This was the same urge that made me keep water, food, and crates in the back of my SUV—the need to be ready for any animal rescue, any time. Beck washuman. A nominal adult. My instinct to save him should have come with far less hubris and a modicum of self-preservation. He was a grown man for God’s sake.
“That’s right. I’ve got you.” Beck sat on a stool with Callie’s snout on his thigh, crooning to the kitten he was feeding.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Travis watched me watching Beck, his gaze subtly mocking when he glanced my way. I ground my teeth at his wry expression.
What the hell was wrong with me? My most recent failed relationship had accused me of wanting to be “everybody’s hero.” It was—embarrassingly—all too true. I loved the feeling of satisfaction I got from doing something good. My mother even made me scrapbooks full of newspaper clippings—success stories of animals I’d rescued, grateful pet owners, and volunteer work I’d done.
I told myself that’s all this impulse to play knights and maidens with Beck was. I got job satisfaction from rescuing animals in dangerous situations. That had to be why I felt such a strong urge to pull Beck from the edge of disaster.
Beck needed me. He needed time and space to learn how to keep himself and his dog healthy and safe, and we—Cooper and Shawn and I—could give him that.
Beck must have sensed me standing there, because he turned to me with a smile that struck like lightning and left me dazzled.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten.
“Is something the matter?” he asked worriedly.
“No, not at all. Something’s very good. I just talked to Cooper, and he and his partner Shawn say they have a guest room you and Callie can stay in until you find your feet.”
I’d say nothing about his guitar for now. There was no guarantee we’d be able to find it.
“Really?” His eyes widened. “I don’t know if—”
