The Perfect Mix (Keller Weddings Book 1) (10 page)

“Sure.” Tom flashed her a smile. “It’s fine.”

But Anna’s hands shook. Half of her wanted to run away and the other half to scream at him. No, things weren’t fine. Even worse that Tom and this whole situation could still get under her skin.

Beckett’s eyes skimmed her face and then moved to Tom. “You’d probably better be on your way.”

Tom glanced at him, flashing a cocky grin. “We were just having a conversation. None of your business.”

“No,” Anna said. “Our conversation is over.”

“You heard her,” Beckett said. “Your conversation is over.”

Poppy put her arm around Anna’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Tom held up his hands. “Hey, didn’t mean to cause any problems.”

“Go,” Beckett said to Tom, surprising Anna.

She walked inside with Poppy and Beckett followed shortly after, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said. “You didn’t–you don’t have to get involved–”

“What was he doing here?” Poppy asked.

Anna frowned, crossing her arms. “He said he wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Nothing. He just–” Anna shook her head. She had no idea what that was about. All she knew was that she wanted nothing to do with Tom.

“If he keeps bothering you, let me know,” Beckett said.

His hand clenched at his side like he was trying not to reach out to her. Of course he wasn’t. She’d been keeping her distance the whole week. He probably thought she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

“Thank you, Beckett.”

He gave a curt nod and turned for the door. “I have some stuff I need to do. I’ll see you all for the Fourth.”

The briskness of his words lanced out at her. Before she could open her mouth to say something–anything–Beckett was gone.

Chapter Ten

Beckett drove home from the grocery store with a car full of items for the Independence Day party tomorrow, though he was tempted to cancel it. Partying wasn’t on his mind. Anna was. Like usual.

He’d cracked a little yesterday when he’d seen her with Tom. He wanted to stand up for her, to comfort her, but he couldn’t. Not when her family didn’t know about them and she wouldn’t let him say anything. It was a secret on top of another secret.

When he pulled in the drive and saw her van parked in front of the house, his hands clenched on the wheel. The pies. That’s right. She was supposed to be here helping him bake the pies. But part of him had expected her to bail.

Beckett pulled around the back near the kitchen entrance and hopped out. Anna met him at his truck.

“Hey,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun that sank close to the mountains.

“Hey.” Damn. She looked good. Simple pair of skinny jeans and a tank that showed off her tan arms. “You been here long?”

“It would have been longer but it took ten minutes to get my car started.”

He frowned. “We’re going to have to get that fixed for you.” And then he remembered himself and shrugged. “Or, you know, get it into the mechanic.”

Which didn’t make sense since he could fix it himself, but she didn’t seem to want his help.

To his surprise, her lips twitched. “Yeah, I need to take care of that.”

He started hauling bags out of the back of the truck.

“Let me help,” Anna offered.

He went to protest, but she was already reaching in for bags, lugging them toward the house. He followed her, trying to keep his eyes from her long legs, or her ass. But the jeans made it hard. And so did his teenager brain again. It would be so easy to catch up to her, to reach out and pull her into his arms.

And then what? She’d just avoid him again.

“Did you get the ingredients for the dessert?” Anna asked, depositing her bags on the counter.

He nodded, setting his bags next to hers.

She shook her head. “Sorry, that’s not why I’m here.”

“To help with the dessert?”

She laughed, twisting her hands together. “Maybe we should get the rest of the bags before the food gets warm.”

And she was off again. He trailed behind her, growing more amused than impatient. She was nervous. But he could read her well enough to know it wasn’t something bad.

She passed him with several more bags, flashing a smile on the way. He grinned back and hauled the rest of the bags inside. Couldn’t stay in a bad mood for long with Anna here looking so uncomfortable it was cute.

She made herself at home in his kitchen, pulling items out of the bags and putting them away. And he had to think, once again, how good she looked in here. He could picture days like this, where they worked side by side, or enjoyed a glass of wine on the front porch in the evenings.

He could picture more, too.

Beckett passed her condiments and she loaded them into the refrigerator before turning and blurting, “I’m sorry.”

“What for? I hate unloading groceries and you just did it for me.”

Her breath came out in a half-laugh. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Beckett.” She twisted her hands together again. “I meant about this week. About…not talking to you. Being distant. And Tom.”

It seemed natural to shrug it off because she looked so uncomfortable, but he chose to let her continue. He needed to know.

“Uh…” She brushed a lock of hair off her cheek, distracting him. “This is hard.”

He took a step closer to her, making her chin come up. “Just talk to me, Anna. You could always do it before.”

Her eyes locked on his. “Because that was always about my family or work or Tom. Sorry, I should
not
be talking about Tom–”

“Has he bothered you again?”

She blinked. “No.”

Beckett scrubbed a hand across his jaw, frustrated with Tom and the situation, and more. “Doesn’t seem like he wants to take no for an answer. You’ll tell me if he bothers you again, right?”

“So you can chase him off?”

He curled his fingers around hers, bowing his head. “I’m serious.”

“I know. Sorry. I’ll tell you if he comes around again. He said–”

When she didn’t continue, he pressed it further. “What did he say?”

Anna sighed. “Really, Beckett, I didn’t come here to talk about Tom. I want to talk about us.”

“Us?”

“You know what I mean.”

He grinned at her, trying to forget Tom and focus on them. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want you to think I was avoiding you.”

“But you were, weren’t you?”

“Beckett,” she breathed. And to his surprise, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. “Yes, I was. But it wasn’t because of you.”

He put his arms around her, even though it was against his better judgement. The more time he spent with Anna, the more he wanted to be with her. But he couldn’t keep pushing. She needed to meet him halfway.

She linked her arms behind his back and held tight. “My mind’s been going crazy. I mean, at first, I thought it was an accident–a mistake,” she mumbled.

He looked down, but she wouldn’t look up at him. “What?”

“I mean when we kissed, we were both caught up in the moment and–”

“Twice?” He eased back and tipped her chin up so he could see her eyes. “I kissed you in the bakery
and
here, in my kitchen. You think I’d make that mistake twice? Oops, I tripped and accidently landed on your mouth?”

Her breath rushed out in a laugh. “No. I mean, I talked myself into thinking that, but when you say it that way…And then, God, I’m a mess. I’m terrible at relationships. As you’ve seen.”

His heart broke a little for her. “You’re not terrible at relationships. You’ve just had to deal with shitty ones in the past.”

She put her hands over her face. “I know. It’s ridiculous. I
wanted
this.”

“Wait.” He pulled her hands away, searching her eyes. “What did you say?”

“What?”

“You said you wanted this.”

She almost looked like she was going to deny it. Then she nodded. “I did. I said that. And it’s true. You kissed me and I wanted it. Before you did it and after.”

It was more than enough for him. He swooped in, lips catching hers, hearing her gasp as they connected. Her hands ran up his chest, making his control break. Just that. Her hands, and he was practically on his knees.

He hiked her up, making her breath hitch, and set her on the counter so he could reach her lips better. So he could run his fingers up her spine and catch her sigh with his mouth. He pressed between her thighs, dying to get as close as possible.

When her hands dove under the back of his shirt, he groaned, reveling in the contact of skin on skin. He reciprocated by sliding his lips down to her jaw, then her collarbone, and getting a grip on her hips to jerk her closer.

She smelled like sugar, spices, everything sweet and warm. Her hair was like silk, brushing his cheek, and making his circuits fry.

Her head arched back. “We’re…in the kitchen.”

His laughter was breathy. “Good observation.”

“I mean, uh…” Her eyes closed when his hands found the sliver of skin between her shirt and jeans. “We were in your kitchen the last time this happened, too.”

“We could take it somewhere else,” he murmured, lips brushing hers.

He didn’t miss the hint of tension that straightened her shoulders. Her eyes locked on his. “It’s…”

“Fast,” he answered for her, reining himself in. Not that he didn’t still have the image of her lying on the bed in his bedroom branded in his mind.

She nodded. “Fast. But, God, Beckett. It’s not that I don’t want this.” Her lips curved. “I
really
want this, but I need to make sure I’m taking steps.”

“I understand.” He gathered her hands in his, lifting one to kiss her fingers. “Believe me.”

“I do.”

“And kissing you wasn’t a mistake,” he said. “None of this is a mistake. It’s something I should have done sooner.”

She looked up at him. “Really?”

“Do you know…” He sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t get into all that now. How long he’d waited to tell her how he felt. How he wished he would have done something before Tom ever came along. Tom had already caused enough problems as it was. “Yes, really.”

She gave him one more kiss. “We should work on the pies.”

“I’m going to have to stand really close just to make sure I’m going it right.”

She laughed. “I’m good with that.”

“That was easy. Oh, and I’m fixing your van this weekend.”

Her eyes danced with amusement. “Yes, sir.”

{}{}{}

They were mixing together the ingredients for the pineapple upside-down cake when Anna’s phone chimed from her pocket.

She wiped her hands on a dish towel and pointed at the bowl, telling Beckett, “Keep stirring.”

He grinned as he continued to mix the ingredients. “It’s probably your sister.”

“Which one?” Anna asked, pulling the phone from her pocket.

“Jillian, wondering why you’re not at work. Or Poppy, wondering why you’re not at home.”

“Should I tell them I’m with you?” Anna smiled at him. “You think that would cause gossip?”

She was surprised when Beckett didn’t return her smile.

“What is it?” she asked.

He stopped stirring and she took the moment to glance down at her screen. Her amusement faded as well.

“It’s not Jillian?”

Anna shook her head and opened the message.

Beckett took a step closer. “Is it Tom?”

She glanced up, a startled laugh escaping her lips. “No. It’s Celeste.”

He visibly relaxed. “Your friend from college?”

“Yes.”

Anna’s stomach twisted when she read the message.
Got ur email. Roommate is out in 2 mos. U should come visit–or come stay.

“Anna?” Beckett said.

She forced a neutral expression. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She tucked her phone away. Right now she couldn’t imagine leaving Park Creek, or Beckett. But she knew better than most how things could change at the drop of a hat. “It’s nothing. She was just telling me about her job.”

Anna hated lying to him, but how did she tell him she was thinking about leaving? Especially after what had happened between them.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Anna returned to the counter and reached for the vanilla.

The truth was, it wasn’t nothing. She’d given some serious thought to staying with Celeste–even if it was just for six months so she could clear her head and get some distance.

But she hadn’t told Celeste yet. She hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Poppy. Not the whole truth anyway. It was a huge step. And now, with Beckett in the picture, her mind whirled with uncertainty.

Beckett was too quiet next to her and she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Why did you think it was Tom?”

His hand froze on the spoon. His eyes lifted to hers. “I’ve seen how Tom looks at you.”

“What? He–he doesn’t look at me like anything. I haven’t seen him in months, except for at Pearl’s and in front of Poppy’s shop yesterday.”

Beckett smiled at her though it was strained. “Why do you think he keeps trying to talk to you? And showing up out of nowhere?”

“Because…” Anna slumped against the counter. She didn’t want to think about Tom, let alone talk about him with Beckett. She’d made the mistake of bringing him up when she should have kept her mouth shut. “Maybe he wants to make amends.”

Beckett scratched his chin. “Maybe.”

She plucked the spoon from his hand. “That wasn’t very convincing.”

“You think he just wants to set things straight.”

“Sure. I mean, maybe he…feels bad.” Anna ran a hand through her hair, agitated, and started pacing.

“You think he wants to apologize?”

She blew out a breath. No, that was probably the last thing he wanted. He hadn’t looked particularly sorry when he’d approached her outside the flower shop.

“I don’t know,” she finally mumbled, spoon still in hand.

“Anna.” Beckett walked around the island.

She continued to pace, even when he said her name again.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Beckett told her.

“Well, it was obviously on your mind.”

He stopped in her path and she froze. “Let’s forget it.”

She squeezed the spoon. “Let’s not.”

He lifted his eyebrows, looking surprised. “Anna.”