“Sounds great.” He smiled once more and leaned in, kissing me on the lips before I could pull back. Part of me wanted to stop him, push him away in case Scott or Jeanne were looking out the window. In fact, I was certain they were looking out the window, given the sound of Beckett’s bike. The other part of me ached for his touch and didn’t want to care who saw me with Beckett. I loved that he was so affectionate, kissing me when we met and parted, touching me, smiling. He seemed really attentive and that made me feel so desirable.
I hadn’t felt that way for a long, long time…
“See you soon,” I said and smiled.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Then, he put his helmet back on and revved the engine, driving off back the way we came.
I turned and went inside, closing the door softly behind me. I put my bag down and removed my shoes, then took the stairs to the second floor where my bedroom and ensuite bathroom were. I hoped I’d be able to quickly shower and change my clothes without having to face Scott or Jeanne, but my hopes were dashed when I heard someone closing the door to the living room.
“Mira?” Jeanne said. “You home to stay?”
I stopped on the stairs and turned to face her. “No,” I said, my voice a bit wavery from nerves, a wave of guilt filling me that I was going out with a new man. “I’m meeting a friend at Louis’s Backyard for a late supper.”
“That’s nice, dear,” she said and smiled. “Don’t let me keep you.” Then, she went back into the living room and closed the door behind her.
I sighed in relief that she didn’t press me on who I was meeting. I tried to quell the guilt that filled me, but it was hard, my throat a bit choked from emotion. I pushed it out of my mind and went to my room, quickly showering, changing into a more casual sundress, and sandals. I put on a touch of mascara and lip gloss and then finished drying my hair. Once I was done, I called a taxi and waited outside, hoping that neither Jeanne or Scott came out to check on me.
Then I went to him.
CHAPTER NINE
Beckett
On the way back to the hotel, I considered what I should do. Did I really want to keep seeing Miranda, knowing who I was and how I was connected to her husband’s death?
Part of me, the hot blooded man part, said damn straight. We were attracted to each other. No doubt about it. Sex would be fantastic for us both. I’d make sure of that.
The other part, the decent human part, said no. She deserved more than to have a man deceiving her. I should tell her who I was so she could make a real choice.
The drive back to the hotel was spent debating with myself. I knew that I was trying to rationalize my own desire for her. I didn’t want her to know who I was, because I knew she’d blame me for Dan’s death. It was my fault – it was my company’s fault – it was SAD wanting to see how well my new com system worked in theater instead of just in a safe environment back home in a war game.
I couldn’t deny that I wanted her. Maybe all it could be was a great erotic encounter between us. Nothing more. If that was good enough for her, why did she need to know anything else?
It wasn’t like I planned on marrying her or anything…
I finished my shower and stood on the patio overlooking the water, staring across the expanse of sand to the surf below. The roar of the waves filled my ears, but all I could think of was Miranda and how much I wanted her. I wanted to be with her and was so torn. I glanced up at the sky but the stars offered no answers. I’d have to find them myself.
Leave her alone, my brain kept telling me, but there was this other part of me – a very selfish part, that said, go to her. You want her. She wants you. Life is short.
So I went to her.
I left the patio, dressed in my other suit and tie and then took the limo service to Louis’s Backyard. I found a table near the edge of the deck overlooking the beach and waited for Mira to arrive. While I waited, I texted Casey, because I was having a bad case of ethics break out and needed her.
BECKETT: Help! I think I’m being an asshole and need your advice.
I waited for her response, which came a few moments later.
CASEY: Hun, if you think you’re being an asshole, you are. Take my word for it.
I exhaled heavily.
BECKETT: At least you could have encouraged me a bit…
In a moment, she texted me back.
CASEY: You don’t need encouragement. You already know the answer, Beckett.