The Perfect Mix (Keller Weddings Book 1) (17 page)

He scratched his cheek, looking around. “The one it took you three months to have?”

“That one.” She grinned. “Yeah, well. It was wedding season, and I was busy…”

With Tom. That’s who she was busy with. He remembered clearly. Remembered when she’d introduced him to the family. Remembered when she’d stopped coming to family functions because he had dinner in the city. Or he had a fundraiser to attend. Always something with Tom.

She wrung her hands, glancing toward the kitchen. “How about some wine?”

“Sure.” He followed her to the kitchen, letting her go through her small routine to get comfortable. “A goat crisis.”

Anna paused with a wine opener in hand. “A what?”

He grinned, taking the opener from her. “A goat crisis. That’s why I couldn’t come. Mom and Dad were out of town and one of the goats got sick. I had to call the vet.”

She passed over a bottle of merlot. “I remember. You helped us move in all our furniture, and then didn’t even get to come to our housewarming party.” She leaned against the cabinets as he opened the bottle of wine. “I even made those quiche tartlets you like so much.”

“You did?”

“Sure. To say thanks.”

He set the opened bottle on the counter and leaned past her to grab the glasses she’d pulled out. His senses went on high alert. All at the simple scent of her. Something sweet. Cake frosting?

He exhaled. “You always smell so good.”

“That’s because I always get cake ingredients on me whenever I bake. I’m not the tidiest person in case you haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Part of your charm.” He smiled, sliding the glasses aside and boxing her in at the counter. He propped his hands on either side of her. “I’ve known that about you my whole life.”

Her chin lifted, eyes locking with his. “You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for.”

“You can thank me now.”

She blinked. “What?”

“For moving your stuff in here. Since I didn’t get to eat the tartlets.”

Her arms wound around his neck as a smile curved her lips. “What did you have in mind?”

He pressed her against the cabinets, bodies flush. “Surprise me.”

Her lips found his, soft, but demanding, and it nearly brought him to his knees. It still didn’t seem real that he had Anna in his arms. That she’d kiss him without hesitation because she wanted to. Because she obviously felt more for him than he ever imagined possible.

His hand tangled in her hair. And in the background, somewhere outside her door, he heard the sound of a voice. Of laughter.

Anna jerked away, eyes wide. Then she froze, listening as the voices faded away and it was silent again. She breathed out, dropping her gaze. “Sorry. I thought…”

“You thought it was Poppy.”

She reached for the wine glasses, clearly using the motion to distract herself. She poured them both a generous amount and passed his over. “You want to sit outside on the balcony?”

“We’re going to have to talk about this,” Beckett said.

He studied her face, watched for what she wasn’t saying. Waited for her to brush it off like she always did. Before, when she was distracting him with her hands, he might have been able to forget about it. But now, tension lingered in the air. It wrapped them up tight and wouldn’t let go.

“You’re right,” Anna said finally, giving a nod. “Let’s sit outside.”

He hid his surprise. He hadn’t expected her to give in, but if she hadn’t, they would have gotten here eventually. Wine or not. Sex or not, they needed to have this conversation.

He took her hand and pulled her toward the back doors. “Outside, then.”

Chapter Seventeen

How did she start? She couldn’t very well tell him that opening up to her family about their relationship spelled disaster. He was probably floating on that new relationship high. The same one she should have been enjoying, but instead couldn’t seem to embrace.

On the other hand, she owed it to him. She owed it to him to give their future a chance. She just had to get rid of some baggage first.

Anna sat in one of the colorful chairs, wine in one hand as she watched the stars come out above the mountains. Beckett joined her, seemingly comfortable anywhere. After a moment, he reached out to take her hand in his, and then sat in silence.

Waiting.

“You ever think about moving somewhere else? Going away to start over completely?” Anna asked.

She stared at his profile. Didn’t miss the muscle working in his jaw, or how long it took him to answer.

“No,” he said. “I’m happy here.”

And even with France as an option, she thought she could be happy here, too. After all, it wasn’t really the place that made it hard for her to move on. It was the people. The history. The fact that she couldn’t seem to escape what had happened. Or open up to her family about it all. Space sounded like a good idea. Until Beckett came long.

He looked over, as if waiting for her to say more. But he couldn’t know anything about France or her longing to start over. And now, that option was fading further and further to the back of her mind. She
was
starting over here. With Beckett.

“I think you’re right about Tom,” she said.

He met her eyes, the light from the moon flickering in them. He came out here expecting her to talk about Poppy and the family, but she had to start here.

“A little off topic,” she said, sipping her wine. “I know. But it’ll make more sense if I tell you this first.”

He squeezed her hand. “Then tell me.”

“I think he wants to talk to me for a reason,” Anna said. “And I don’t think it’s to apologize.”

“You don’t have to. Just because he keeps showing up doesn’t mean anything. If he doesn’t leave you alone–”

“No, Beckett, that’s not why I’m telling you. I don’t expect you to do anything.”

Beckett’s fingers flexed on hers before he spoke. “I don’t feel obligated, Anna. I want to help. I know you think you can handle this on your own–”

“I
can
handle this on my own.” She bit her lip and then shook her head, making herself calm down. Eli’s words came back to her, and she reminded herself Beckett was just being Beckett. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right. You
can
handle this on your own. But you don’t have to.”

She met his eyes, drinking in the certainty there. The compassion. The love.

Her stomach twisted. Love? She swallowed. Of course. He was a part of her family. There was a certain kind of love there, something that went deep and back to their childhood. But lately, she saw more. She felt more, too.

Anna blew out a breath. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“You’re still going to talk with him then?”

“Yes. Because I need closure. I need to end this for good this time. I want to make sure Tom and I are on the same page.” She glanced over. “But I appreciate that you want to help.”

He gave a slight nod.

“Really, Beckett.” She set aside her wine glass to grip his hand with both of hers. “I get defensive because I don’t want anyone else to have to deal with Tom and I think it’s my responsibility. But I know you’re just trying to help.”

“I am trying to help. I don’t trust him.”

“I’m not interested in getting back together with him.”

He set his wine aside as well and reached out to squeeze her leg. “I know you aren’t, and it makes this that much more perfect. I missed my chance with you before Tom came along, and had to stand by while he treated you like you weren’t worth anything to him. But I don’t want to miss my chance again.”

Her lips parted. Before she could say anything, he lowered his head and kissed her. His scent, his warmth, everything about Beckett enveloped her. His fingers slid into the back of her hair, giving her chills, and she pressed closer.

When he broke the kiss, her gaze came back into focus and settled on his face. “You didn’t even ask what that had to do with telling my family.”

He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Closure, right. One thing at a time?”

She nodded, relieved he understood.

“Doesn’t make it any easier on my end. I want to be here with you tonight. Without you worrying someone will walk in on us.”

She stood, taking her wine with her. “I want you to be here, too.”

She couldn’t deny it. She wanted Beckett in her life. And Poppy wasn’t going to be back until tomorrow morning. They had time.

“Good.” He stood as well, curving his hand around her waist and pulling her close. His mouth stopped inches from hers. “These are steps, right? Good ones.”

“How can you be so sure what you want? So certain everything will work out? We’re friends and I don’t want to mess it up. I’m afraid I will.”

“What makes you so sure you will? What if it ends up being the best thing that could have happened?”

“And if not? Will we still be friends?” She placed a hand over his heart. “Because I don’t know if I could take it if we aren’t. I care about you too much to lose that.”

His lips brushed hers. Once, twice, before he leaned back. “It goes a lot deeper than that for me.”

Her heart fluttered. “What do you mean?”

“I care about you as a friend, yes, but it’s more than that.”

Her throat dried. She already knew what he was going to say, could see it in his eyes, and the whole world around her froze.

“Anna. I love you.”

Her mouth filled with words. Words that wouldn’t come, words that didn’t fit in the space between them. She cared so much for Beckett, but it was like jumping off a ledge and not knowing whether or not there was a safety net below.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, lips brushing hers. “It’s enough right now for me to tell you. For you to hear it. To know we’re working toward the same goal. There are other things I need to tell you, too.”

“Not right now,” she whispered.

If she couldn’t give him the words, she could give him her heart. She could show him just how much he meant to her.

Wine still in hand, she fused her mouth to his, nipping his bottom lip.

His arms tightened around her. “God, Anna. You’re killing me. You better be sure about me staying here.”

“You mean stay the night?”

His lips curved. “I mean more than that, but yes. I need this time with you if I can’t be with you during the day.”

“Beckett…”

He brushed his lips on her cheek. “Yes?”

“Why did it take so long for me to see this side of you?”

“Don’t ask why,” he said, pulling her back inside the apartment. “Enjoy the now.”

He took her wine glass and set it on an end table as they passed the couch. She took his words to heart and slid her hands under his shirt, running them up his bare back.

“Better not waste any time then,” she said, kneading her fingers in his muscles.

He growled and, in a flash, had her back against the wall in the hallway. His hands slid down her sides, and then back up, taking her shirt with them. He pulled it off and tossed it on the ground while she ran her tongue on his lower lip.

His groan reverberated deep inside, thrilling her. Then her pulse tripled when he hiked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he turned for her bedroom.

“Last door on the left,” she murmured.

Amusement tinged his voice when he answered. “I remember.”

The room was cool and dim, with only a small lamp lit on the corner of her dresser. Beckett released her, letting her body slide down the length of his before her feet touched the floor. She reached for the button on his jeans, undoing it in one quick flick.

Her body, mind, everything filled with Beckett’s smell, his touch, the deep timbre of his voice when he murmured words in her ear that caused her to shiver. He tugged off his shirt, and then stepped out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him naked before her. Her heart zoomed out of control, fingers itching to wander all over him.

But he caught her hands in his, slowing her momentum, and kissing her fingertips. “Slowly.”

It was hard for her to think with him pressing into her hip, his muscles flexing in front of her, voice soft. But she took a breath, arching her head back, and letting him take his fill when his mouth began to roam.

His fingers undid the latch on her bra, and let that fall to the floor as well. His breath hitched, and she opened her eyes to meet his. Dark. Hungry.

“Beckett,” she whispered.

He yanked her against him, plundering her mouth. “What was I thinking?” he asked between breaths, hands tugging on her jeans until those dropped to the floor. “Taking your time is really overrated.”

She laughed, and then her breath caught when he pulled her to the mattress, directly on top of him. His body was firm everywhere, all of him strong and toned, and hot against her skin. Their lips fit perfectly together, giving and taking while their bodies rubbed and slid against each others.

His fingertips danced down her back, to her thighs, and then between. When he plunged them inside of her, her head dropped back, muscles quivering.

He caught her gasp with his mouth, locking them together once more, while his fingers worked in and out, like a race against the beat of her heart.

And when it hit her, the hot zap of lightning, she clenched her fingers around Beckett’s shoulders, body shuddering against this.

His hand smoothed her hair, lips touched hers once again.

“I like your room,” he murmured.

She smiled, heart still thundering, and rose up to straddle him. She eased him inside of her slowly, watching as his eyes closed, lips parted slightly, until their hips met. His hands slid up her belly and to her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples as she swiveled against him.

And as his body tensed, reaching its peak, she pressed her lips to his heart. She couldn’t say the words out loud because she could hardly believe it herself.

She was falling in love with Beckett Hansen, one of her oldest friends.