Page 21 of A Much Younger Man
Chapter Six
When I knockedon Cooper and Shawn’s door, I was well aware of what I wanted to happen. I’d already shamelessly exploited the kitten situation to make Beck smile. I couldn’t help imagining his smile when he got his guitar back.
Shawn came to the door with his finger to his lips, and as soon as I crossed the threshold, I saw why. Cooper sat in a recliner in the living room watching music videos with the sound turned low while Beck slept on the couch with Callie.
“Poor kid’s exhausted,” whispered Cooper.
Shawn motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen. Cooper joined us a minute later. He took the guitar from me and set it on the counter to look it over.
“He’s going to be so happy to have this back.”
“Yep. A total steal at full manufacture’s retail price.” I felt like an absolute tool, but I still believed it was the right thing to do.
Shawn, who’d positioned me to read my lips said, “You didn’t bargain?”
“Sure. I got some sheet music as a bonus,” I said dryly. “The owner of that shop could see how badly I wanted it. Dude wouldn’t budge on price.”
“Well, consider it your good deed for the year. Have a cold one.” Shawn offered me a beer.
“Thanks.” I twisted off the cap and took a good long swallow. The crisp bitter liquid totally hit the spot. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until then. “Beck should still contact the police. If his boyfriend has some kind of ID with his name on it, he could end up in a world of credit trouble later when it’s necessary to get a loan.”
“That’s not really our problem though, is it?” Cooper got a Coke for himself.
“No,” I agreed. “We got the guitar back. He can deal with the ID theft on his own. After all, we don’t really know him, do we? He could still be some kind of grifter.”
From behind me, a rough voice asked, “Is that my guitar?”
I turned with a wince. I hoped he hadn’t heard me, but it was obvious from his expression he had. Half-asleep with bedhead and flushed skin, he looked conflicted. He was angry because I was a dumb fuck, but he wanted that guitar like it was air and he was suffocating.
I wanted to ignore his shimmering eyes, but it was no good. “Beck—”
“We got it back for you.” Cooper held the case out for him. “Call it a hospitality gift from the St. Nacho’s welcoming committee.”
Beck took it with a gulp. “How’d you even find it?”
Cooper explained, “I called pawn shops and secondhand places until I found where your guy sold it.”
Shawn added. “Lindy drove up to Salinas and got it.”
Beck turned to me, hugging his instrument to his chest. “Why would you do that if you think I’m some grifter?”
“You think you could give us a minute?” I asked Cooper and Shawn.
“Sure.” Cooper touched Shawn’s sleeve, and they left the kitchen. Beck set the guitar on the counter, but as though he was afraid it would disappear again, he didn’t take his hand off it.
“I hope you’re not a grifter”—I measured my words carefully—“but I can’t worry about things like that.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
I shouldn’t have stepped closer because then I caught faint hints of the denim he wore, sweet tea, and salt in his hair. If he leaned toward me, I’d be able to make out whether there were other colors in the depths of his inky blue eyes. I’d see the exact color of his lashes. I could look for patterns in his freckles.
I cleared my throat. “I guess for me it’s not about the outcome but the act.”
“So you’d be okay if I played you?”
“No, I wouldn’t.” That seemed kind of obvious. “I’d be pretty sad, actually. But I hope it wouldn’t change my future behavior. I want to keep doing the good thing, just because.”
“Tug called you a mark.” He pulled me closer by gripping the hem of my untucked button-down.
