Page 30 of Knot That Serious

Beckett went to the corner Jack had silently deemed his spot, taking up the last bar seat in the corner by the wall. It had been two days since their date and Jack hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

And apparently, the sentiment was returned, because Beckett not only brought Jack lunch every day since, but even treated Eli with a morning coffee.

His sucking-up trick was working.

Jack passed his customer their white paper bag, spun the device around for them to pay, and then bid them good day. He practically bounced in place as he took care of the last few customers in line. Once the shop was empty, save for Beckett, Jack sidled over and tapped the countertop.

Beckett looked up from his phone in a frown quickly replaced by a smile as he met Jack’s gaze.

“Good afternoon,” Beckett greeted, voice warm and light and Jack had missed him, which was stupid because they texted all day, in between customers and whatever Beckett did, and he’d just seen him yesterday for lunch.

But now he was here, in front of Jack, and Jack resisted the urge to lean across the bar and kiss him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jack said, again. He said it every time Beckett stopped by, which was to say, like, every damned day.

“I brought sandwiches today,” Beckett said, and unpacked Jack’s, wrapped in brown paper, complete with a shiny sticker on the top.

“What kind?” Jack asked, lifting it to his nose to sniff.

“Yours is a turkey and aged white cheddar with arugula and some kind of cranberry jam.”

“Sold me at turkey,” Jack remarked, and ripped the sticker to unwrap the sandwich. “What did you get?”

Beckett’s sandwich sounded much more complex than Jack’s, with avocado and pesto and a few other things he wasn’t familiar with.

“Fancy,” Jack mused, and took a bite of his lunch. “Oh, this is good,” he said around a mouthful.

Beckett grinned over at him and tried his own food, giving a thumbs up while he covered his mouth, all proper and polite.

Jack wanted to mess him up a little—okay, a lot. Wanted to see him all flushed with his hair out of place, pleasure crumpling his expression, like that night on the couch.

Clearing his throat, Jack lifted his gaze, and found a familiar heat in Beckett’s jade green eyes.

Oh, it was on.

Except they were interrupted by the ding of the bell, and Jack suddenly felt like he was doing something wrong, and stepped away from Beckett.

“Hey, welcome to Heat Treats, what can I get you?”

The transaction was quick and easy, and after the bell announced their departure, he turned back to Beckett.

Who was once again frowning down at his phone, before he brushed off his fingers and typed back a response, thumbs flying over the screen.

“What’s up? Work stuff?” he asked. “You’re frowning,” he pointed out when Beckett glanced up in surprise.

Beckett wasn’t meant to frown, and the world felt kind of wrong when he was upset.

He sighed, bit the inside of his cheek, and finally sat his phone down. “My upstairs neighbor flooded their apartment, which in turn flooded mine. Now there’s contractors and insurance and these awful insanely loud dryers placed everywhere. We’re just trying to nail down dates so I know how long I have to suffer,” he grumbled, picking up his sandwich again.

“That’s awful,” Jack said, heart dropping and already pulling out his phone to send a text.

Can Beckett stay over? he sent to Eli, wondering if she was already asleep for the day.

“Did any of your stuff get damaged?” Jack asked, and placed his phone down.

“Yes, actually. My extensive record collection is soaked. I’m pissed. It took me years to collect all of them.”

“Oh, no!” Jack frowned, chest aching for him. “The same records you showed me?”

---