Page 70 of Tangled Up

No one answers, and I can’t see anything. I hesitate before taking a step forward. A weight drops in my stomach, and I don’t want to think it. I don’t want to say her name. My brow tightens as fear constricts my throat.

Inhaling slowly, I exhale fear. I’m not afraid of my patients. I’m their ally. I fight for them to be heard, to have a normal life. Being afraid buys into the stereotype they’re dangerous.

At the same time, don’t stereotypes have some basis in reality?

My lips part, and I’m about to call her name when a dash of orange flies past my legs, and I scream. Just as fast, Beck appears at my side.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are wide, and his body seems bigger somehow in the darkness. “Did you see something?”

He’s breathing fast, and I realize he ran to me. Warmth floods my veins, and I hold his hand as a heavy, furry body falls against my calves, rubbing back and forth.

I release my hunky, hunky boyfriend and bend down to pick up Oliver. “This guy tried to give me a heart attack,” I laugh, holding him up to my face.

Beck’s shoulders relax, and he pets the naughty feline. “He’s probably still pissed your brother shoved a worm pill down his throat.”

We walk back to the now-empty booth, picking up the remainder of my aunt’s wares and carrying them down the sandy path to the waiting wagon.

“You are such a dear, Beckham.” My aunt fawns over him. “I want you to come by in the morning for coffee and fresh-made scones, and I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

“I’ll see you first thing.” He leans down to kiss the tip of my nose. “I’ll shoot you a message later. Something dirty.”

A thrill shimmers down my spine, pooling in my stomach. “I can’t wait.” My voice is quiet, and my fingers curl in his shirt.

He gives me a chaste kiss for my aunt’s sake, I’m sure, before telling us goodbye and heading up the path in the direction of the parking lot. I take the handle of the wagon and drag it towards the house with my aunt leading the way.

The noise of the festival fades behind us in the night, but I’m buzzy, walking on a cloud of kisses and reunion.

“I see you two are back together.” My aunt glances over her shoulder at me with a wry smile. “Took a little longer than I expected. Cost me a whole dollar.”

“Aunt Viv!” My eyebrows shoot up. “Who were you betting with?”

“Oh, Jessica and I had a friendly little wager. She said a month. I said a week.”

“I’m a little stronger than a week, thanks.”

“I have no idea why. Have you seen that boy lately?” She arches an eyebrow at me. “He’s got enough strength for both of you.”

“Still. He had some making up to do.” I stick out my chin, knowing full well she could get her dollar back if she knew how fast I slept with him.

Not that she needs to know that—and anyway, it was all just pissed-offedness and lust. I wasn’t getting back together with Beck Munroe at that time. But she’s right. He does look damn good these days. Not that he ever didn’t look good to me.

She steps over to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “However long it took, I’m glad. He was always a good boy. Now he seems like a good man. Ahhnd… maybe we’ll see you around here a little more.”

My lips press into a tight smile. “Maybe.”

I agree with her on everything but the last part of the equation. I don’t know how we’ll figure out the logistics of all this. We’ve only just confirmed we want to be together. The rest of the details are going to be tricky at best.

Walking up to the house, I roll the wagon under the covered patio and help her carry the crates into the kitchen.

“I’ll take these to Thelma tomorrow. The youth group can use them for a play or something.” She hangs her purse on a hook behind the refrigerator and kisses my cheek. “Night, sweet girl. I’m not used to staying out this late. I’m dead.”

I smile, giving her a hug as my eyes drift to the clock over the sink reading nine-thirty. She shuffles off, and I walk to my bedroom. I’m not tired at all. My body is buzzing and warm, and I keep thinking about Beck’s strong arm around me on the Ferris wheel.

I keep hearing him promise never to hurt me. I haven’t stopped smiling since he kissed me in front of the swings. Taking the light cotton robe off my door, I remove all my clothes, including my underwear. I decide a nice soak in the tub, a glass of wine, and maybe an intimate massage is just what I need—maybe combined with a little sexting.

Walking back to the kitchen, my heart beats faster at the thought. I chew my lip as I think about what all I want to say to him.

Placing a crystal wine glass on the bar, I lean forward to trace my nose along the bouquet of deep purple pansies in the clear vase.

---