“And did you even bother to shower?” Oliver jabbed. “Looks like you’ve still got some river mud on your neck there.”
Oliver reached toward Mya, then laughed when she swatted his arm away.
“I guess we should head to dinner,” Sydney forced out when her attention resettled on Beckett’s dark, incredibly piercing gaze.
“Right,” Mya said in a cheery tone, then stepped off the porch, leaving Oliver behind.
Sydney and Beckett stood locked in place, staring at each other as if a Disney fairy godmother had cast a spell over them.
What is wrong with me?
Beckett blinked and drew a hand over his sexy, scruff-covered jaw. “You’re . . .” He cleared his throat and brought that masculine hand around to the back of his neck. “Absolutely beautiful.” The sweet sincerity of his tone did nothing to overshadow the dark, hungry look in his eyes that said he wanted to make her his.
She smiled her thanks. “You look quite handsome yourself.” That was an understatement, and it was taking everything in her not to walk her fingers up the buttons of his shirt and free them one by one.
“Are you ready?” Or we can stay here staring at each other, knowing we have insane sexual chemistry we shouldn’t act on?
He nodded and offered her his hand. Ladies first. She’d grown used to and was okay with things like opening doors for herself. The days of genteel manners were long gone for the most part, and she’d forgotten what it was like to be treated like a lady. Beckett was proving to be a true Southern gentleman. A gentleman who could hopefully turn savage in the bedroom.
She joined Beckett on the trail, and they walked side by side, hanging ten or so feet back behind Oliver and Mya, who were arguing about sports. Of course. Why not? Only Mya.
“Football is big in Alabama, right?” Sydney asked Beckett, trying her hand at small talk.
He peeked over at her, an easy smile on his face. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Thought so.” She returned his smile before looking ahead. The sun hadn’t quite set, but the canopy of towering trees cocooning their path made it seem darker.
“And you grew up in . . .?” he asked.
“Born in Danbury, Connecticut. Bounced back and forth between Connecticut and New York City as a kid. I met Mya and . . .” Alice. She cringed at the thought. Levi and I will be okay, she reminded herself. “I met her in Manhattan. Our dads went to school together.”
“You don’t have a city accent,” he commented. “Not really.”
“I guess it’s because I traveled a lot growing up. Summers in Europe usually.” And stop there. She didn’t want to remind him she came from wealth. She wasn’t sure why it’d bother her if he thought of her as some snob. She was far from it. Hell, she barely owned any brand names, it wasn’t her thing. “LA didn’t erase your accent, I see.”
“Ha. Yeah, no, I guess there’s no getting rid of the Bama in me.”
“And you would probably never want to leave Alabama again?” Beckett’s steps slowed at her question, and she realized maybe it sounded as though she’d asked him, Would you leave your home for love?
“I, um.”
“You two okay back there?” Mya called out, turning to the side while still walking, preventing Beckett from having to answer.
“We’re good,” Sydney responded as Oliver snatched Mya’s elbow to keep her from falling when she tripped on her dress.
“They’re better than you.” Oliver chuckled as Mya faced forward.
“To answer your question,” Beckett began a moment later, “I don’t know.”
Sydney kept her focus on the path ahead, unsure if she could look at him right now without tripping. Physically falling. Mentally too, maybe. “Oh.”
“So.” That one word from Beckett filled the bit of quiet between them after she’d dropped that uncomfortable “oh” into the night air. “You, uh, went to West Point. How was that?”
Quick subject change. And a conversation she wasn’t quite sure how to navigate either. “It was okay, I guess. I owed the Army five years after I graduated, but technically I only served four.” She had no intention of going into the hows and whys, at least not tonight.
“And Gray?”
Ohhh. That’s where you want to take this? “He was in his last year there when we met. Pretty sure he proposed because of pre-deployment jitters.”
“He proposed?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Beckett stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by Sydney’s rather offhanded comment, and his pulse skyrocketed in anticipation of what she might say next.
A marriage proposal? And while nearly two decades had passed, it was pretty damn clear Gray was still hung up on her. Who’d blame the guy?
“I turned him down,” Sydney clarified. “Back then, Gray knew me as Sydney Bowman. I didn’t want anyone at West Point knowing about my family.” She wet her lips and dropped her eyes to the skirt of her dress. “He had no idea.”
He understood withholding the truth from her classmates, he supposed. But from a guy she dated? Why not come clean? It wasn’t his place to ask her, though, so he kicked at a stone with the toe of his loafer and tried to wrap his head around what this new information meant. What would he do with it?
“Gray still has feelings for you,” he found himself admitting aloud. “I saw how he looked at you at Savanna and Griffin’s wedding last month.” Like he’d wanted to rip her dress off and devour her—same as Beckett. But until Oliver had spilled the news, he sure as hell hadn’t known she and Gray had a history. “And I know what you said, but—”
“But what?”
He returned his attention to her, pausing at her luscious lips for a moment before journeying up to her bold green gaze.
He’d nearly kissed her back in the bungalow before Gray had called. But we didn’t go through with it, which means we’re on the same page. He shouldn’t worry about her past or who she’d once shared a bed with. Nor who she might share a bed with tomorrow or the next day.
So, then, why’d it feel as though they were both standing there wanting to do a lot more than just breathe in the same air?
“Nothing.” He opened a palm, an offer to continue walking, but she remained in place. Quietly studying him as if waiting for him to expand on whatever thoughts he’d chosen not to share.
No, sweetheart, you don’t want to hear them. Because they all center around you in my bed, and that’s a place we sure as hell can’t be.
“Hey, you two coming?” Oliver hollered, and Beckett forced a smile and nodded.
“Yes,” Sydney returned and began moving. Beckett gave her a head start, sensing they needed some space to process whatever awkward moment passed between them.
He trailed behind her, hating the knot forming in his throat and the tight fist-like feeling in his chest. Upon reaching the courtyard, he found Mya and Oliver off to the side of the pool, the skirt of Mya’s dress billowing around her as she twirled in a circle and took in the majestic setting.
Maybe years ago, Beckett might have fallen under the romantic spell of this place, but romance had been dead for him for a long damn time.