Page 61 of Beckett
I was half tempted to bring Jet with me into town, just for the company. But dogs weren’t allowed in grocery stores, and besides, I couldn’t let fear control me. Nearly three weeks had passed. Not a single sign of my stalker. No pictures. No messages. No prickle at the back of my neck that meant eyes were tracking my every move.
Perhaps I’d finally lost him.
The drive into Garnet Bend felt different today. The mountains stood guard around the valley, permanent and protective. Main Street dozed in the afternoon sun, people going about their small-town routines with small-town concerns. A mother pushed a stroller while her toddler tried to pet every dog they passed. Markman’s General Store sign signaled to astronauts in space.
Peaceful. Safe. The life I used to have before everything went wrong.
The grocery store parking lot was half full. I grabbed a cart and headed inside, already planning my menu. The rib eyes in the meat section were beautiful—well-marbled, thick cut. I selected two of the best ones, then moved on to the produce section.
“Audra! Good to see you.”
I turned to find Coop beside the tomatoes, his own cart loaded with enough protein to feed a small army. Chicken breasts, ground beef, what looked like an entire pork loin.
“Hi, Coop. Stocking up?”
“Always.” His ready grin put me immediately at ease. “Burning calories like we do at Warrior Security, got to keep the fuel coming.” He glanced at the steaks in my cart. “Special occasion?”
“Just thought I’d cook dinner for Beckett. A thank-you for…everything.”
His expression softened, something knowing in his eyes. “That’s real nice of you. He doesn’t let many people do things for him.”
“I’ve noticed.” I set the steaks carefully in the cart. “He was doing great, but then the last couple of days have been rough. He’s been keeping to himself.”
“Yeah, he does that. Pulls back when he feels vulnerable.” Coop leaned against his cart, studying me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. “But the fact that he let you help? That’s huge. Beck doesn’t trust easy.”
“I just happened to be there.”
“No.” His voice carried the weight of certainty. “You were there, and you didn’t run. You didn’t panic. You called for help when he needed it. That matters more than you know.”
We stood there for a moment, surrounded by the afternoon bustle of shoppers selecting their dinners and debating cereal brands, while something extraordinary hung in the air between us.
“Hey,” Coop said suddenly, glancing at his phone. “You know what? Today’s actually Beck’s birthday.”
The words knocked the breath from my lungs. “What? It is? Why didn’t he tell me! Should I do something? Get a cake? Throw a party? Invite people over?”
Coop held up a hand, chuckling. “Whoa, absolutely not. Beck would hate that. A party would stress him out more than anything. He’s not big on attention or fuss.”
“But it’s his birthday.”
“And the best gift you can give him is not making a big deal out of it.” His expression turned serious.
“So, no party.”
“No party. But…” He glanced at the steaks again. “A quiet dinner? Just the two of you? That, he might actually enjoy. Especially if there’s cake involved. Man’s got a secret sweet tooth he thinks nobody knows about.”
“Cake, I can do.” My mind was already racing. Chocolate cake from scratch. Nothing fancy, nothing that screamedbirthday celebration. Just a simple chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. The kind of thing that could be a regular dessert on a regular day, if he wanted to pretend that’s all it was.
“You’re good for him, you know,” Coop said quietly, his voice pitched low enough that the woman examining avocados nearby couldn’t hear. “I haven’t seen him this…presentin a long time. Like he’s actually living instead of just surviving.”
Before I could figure out how to respond to that, he was already moving away. “I should get going. But, Audra? You’re special to him. Whether he’s said it or not, whether he even knows how to say it—you matter.”
He left me standing there between the bell peppers and cucumbers, something warm and fragile blooming in my chest despite everything I’d taught myself about not hoping for too much. I shook off the feeling and focused on the task at hand.
Cake. I needed cake ingredients.
Twenty minutes later, I emerged from the store with bags full of dinner fixings and everything I needed for a chocolate cake. The late-afternoon sun painted the mountains gold and purple,and I stood for a moment just breathing in the crisp air. This was going to be a good night. I would make sure of it.
I popped the trunk and loaded the grocery bags carefully, making sure the eggs were secure and the steaks were in the insulated bag I’d bought. The cake was going to be perfect. Three layers if I had enough cocoa, two if not. Either way, Beckett would have a birthday cake, whether he admitted to wanting one or not.
