Love and Other Things (Crystal Lake 4)

A few days earlier, a couple of his buddies called him up because there was a spot open for one lucky bastard to fly with them up to northern Canada for a week of ice fishing. Apparently, Armstrong had backed out because his wife threatened to kick him out for good if he left her alone while he was off fishing with the guys. Now, Beck was the kind of man who liked to fish. It didn’t matter if it was an early morning in the summer or a late afternoon in the fall or way the hell up north in a small ice hut with a bunch of guys on a lake in the middle of nowhere. But he made up some dumb-ass work-related excuse and thanked them for the offer, but politely declined.

Beck thought about that as he carried his tools from Mrs. Havernash’s house and placed them in the back of his truck. He guessed that right about now, the boys were on to beer, food, gossip, and as many off-color jokes as they could come up with after a full day fishing. And here he was finishing up a job and getting ready to meet Sidney at the Coach House for beer and wings and then a jaunt down to the river and boardwalk.

“You get everything finished, Beckworth?”

He turned and gave a quick nod as he headed back to the house for the last of it. Mrs. Havernash had been his Sunday school teacher and the secretary at the elementary school he’d attended, and she always used his Christian name.

“Got the backsplash finished, and that was the last thing on our list.” He stepped up on the porch and paused. The woman had just celebrated her eightieth birthday and was as spry and quick as she’d always been. Her hair was snow white, the wiry curls cut real short, and her tiny frame was wrapped up in a blue dress with yellow flowers and big old cardigan that looked about two sizes too big for her. Beck had never seen the woman in a pair of pants.

“Don’t go touching it, now,” he said with a quick smile. “The grout has to cure, and I’ll be back in a couple of days to give it a wash and seal the edges.”

“It looks wonderful. Oh, I was excited when my son, Danny, told me he was paying to have my kitchen redone. I swear I haven’t spent a dime on it since Mr. Havernash passed, and that was nearly twenty-five years ago.”

“The place looks spiffy, Mrs. H, and I think you did a real good job with the materials you decided on.”

“Bah,” she said, shaking her head. “You made all the suggestions. All I did was nod and say, ‘Whatever you think is best.’” She cocked her head a bit and handed him the canvas bag he’d come back for. “How’s your brother doing with those babies on the way?”

“You know how Nate is. He’s never good at waiting on things, and nine months is a long time.”

Mrs. Havernash chuckled. “Don’t I know it. Why, I remember once when he was about six or maybe seven, and we had the Christmas pageant at church. He was one of the wise men, and in the last segment. I swear he had ants in his pants the entire time we had to wait backstage. When it was finally time for the wise men to walk onto the stage, he pushed his way through, so anxious to get out there first, and knocked over Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Can you believe that?”

“I can. If I remember right, after he took out the manger, he fell off the stage.”

Her face crinkled up, and she slowly nodded. “I think you’re right.”

Beck took a step back. He liked Mrs. Havernash a lot, and he knew the lady was lonely, that her Danny had only paid for the renovation because the guy felt guilty he never saw his mother. Normally, Beck would take the time to chat with her, but he glanced at his watch. He was already twenty minutes late, and Sid was already at the Coach House.

“Look at me keeping you here when a young man like yourself must have plans this evening.” She gave him a knowing look. “I’ve heard you’ve been keeping company with the woman who’s been staying out at the stone cottage.”

The gossip mill in Crystal Lake never failed to amaze him.

“I’m meeting Sidney for dinner.” There was no point in denial. Heck, the rumor mill probably had them shacked up and on the way to the altar.

Her eyes softened. “It’s about time, Beckworth. You’re too good of a man to still be on your own. Now you go on and make sure to give my best to your brother and Molly.”

He took another step back.

“Oh, and tell your mother that I should be able to volunteer next week at the hospital. Now that this nasty chest cold is gone, I do love being a baby cuddler.”

“I will.”

He tossed the canvas bag in the back of his truck, closed the cover, and gave one more wave before he hopped inside. He hauled ass to the Coach House. It had been a long day trying to finish up this job before the weekend. He was thirsty and hungry, and, no way around it, he was looking forward to spending the evening with Sid.

The parking lot was packed when he pulled up, but Beck managed to find a spot at the back. He glanced down at his work jeans and boots—he’d had no time to run home and change—and they’d have to do.

The smell of beer and grease hit him full-on when he walked inside and spied Nash, the owner, almost immediately. He was behind the bar chatting with a bear of a man who went by the name of Tiny. Nash looked up, lifted his chin, and pointed to his left, and Beck strode through the crowd, eyes already on the woman who was waiting on him.

Her hair was loose and hung around her shoulders, the way he liked it, and she wore a simple formfitting black top, tucked into faded jeans, and black boots. A long sliver chain was the only jewelry she wore, and her lips, oh man, her lips were painted a deep, sexy red.

She glanced up just then, and he smiled, almost to her, when a hand reached out and grabbed him.

He turned to his right, and his smile slowly faded when he laid eyes on Emily Davenport. She sat alone at the table.

“Hey,” he said, casually, aware that Sid’s eyes were on him. This felt awkward as hell. It wasn’t exactly a situation Beck found himself in a lot.

“Hey yourself,” she replied. She looked past him and then swung her gaze back. “So the rumors are true.”

“Look, Em.” God, he felt like a shit. “I…we…”