Love and Other Things (Crystal Lake 4)

“Not this again.” Nathan tossed a tea towel over his shoulder and shook his head.

“You guys have a track record for putting me on the spot. No way you can deny it.” Beck shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Two days after Christmas it was Angela Smith.”

“Hey, in my defense I thought you liked her.” Nate shrugged and leaned against the island.

“Just because I cleared the snow from her driveway doesn’t mean I want to date the woman.”

“You cleared her driveway every day for two weeks.” Nate wasn’t giving in.

“Because Gus Aldridge, the guy who normally does it, was in Florida with his family and asked me to.”

“Oh.” Nate had nothing for that.

“And then there was Danielle Evans on New Year’s Eve. She came at me like a barracuda. By the end of the evening, she was planning a vacation together. Seriously. That woman has more baggage than anyone I know, and she wants to go to Cabo with me? What’s your excuse there?” Beck looked his brother straight in the eye.

“I don’t have one other than the fact you’ve been such a grouchy bastard lately, I figured you needed to get laid.”

“Nathan.” Molly struggled to turn around and glare at his brother.

“What?” Nate shrugged. “It’s true. You said so yourself.”

Molly sank back onto the sofa, those all-seeing eyes of hers back on Beck. She had the humility to look at least a little embarrassed. “You have seemed a little on edge.” She sighed. “Look, we love you, and we’re worried about you. That’s all.” Her eyes shifted to Nate and then back to him. “You don’t seem happy.”

“I’m fine,” he replied darkly. “Not everybody needs to live a world overflowing with goddamn unicorns.”

“What’s wrong with unicorns?” Nathan’s attempt to lighten things went unnoticed because Molly wasn’t giving up.

“You work most every day, sometimes until midnight. You play hockey with the boys one night a week in the winter or baseball in the summer and come here for dinner every other Sunday. But that’s it. You have no life outside of whatever house it is you’re working on, or a couple of social beers at the Coach House. It’s not healthy to be that closed off from the rest of the world.” Molly said the words in a rush.

Beck took a step back because he knew where they were headed, and the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his personal situation with anyone, let alone his brother Nate, a guy who currently had the world by the balls.

Nathan perched on the edge of the sofa and looked up at Beck. The look in his brother’s eyes made Beck uncomfortable. “I know you don’t like talking about Cate, but—”

“Don’t,” he all but growled.

“It’s been over ten years. We all know how much you loved her. We all did too. I mean, that girl was part of our family. But Beck, she’d want you to be happy. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

Beck clamped his jaw tight, and it took a bit for him to work his way up to saying a few words. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it, then took another few moments before he turned back to Molly and Nate.

He loved them; they were family. But they didn’t get it.

The day that son of a bitch drunk driver took her away from him was the day he knew his life would never be the same. Because what he and his fiancée had had was the kind of thing that only comes around once in a lifetime. He had zero interest in anything less than that.

“What I think is that I’d appreciate it if the two of you would stay the hell out of my personal life. I’m fine.” He looked at both of them. “If the state of my being fine doesn’t exactly measure up to what both of you think it should or fall in line with your version of it, well, I got nothing but it is what it is.” He held up his hand when Molly opened her mouth. “No, Molls. I know you’ve got the best of intentions, but trust me when I say I don’t need this, okay? I’m not an addict. I don’t need an intervention. I just need to be left alone.”

Beck scooped up his jacket and headed for the front door. “Thanks for dinner. I hope I didn’t ruin it.”

By the time he got back to his place, snow was starting to fall again. The flakes were light and powdery, the kind that didn’t stick but would disappear on the next gust of wind. Winter hung on with tenacious fingers; in like a lion, out like a lamb, or so they said. His house was dark, and he sat for a moment staring at it, shoulders tight with tension, mind heavy with thoughts he’d rather forget.

It was an old cottage he’d winterized, and he’d bought out here for the property, not the home. Truthfully, he’d hardly spent any time fixing up the house because he didn’t care all that much about it. It was his base of operations, so to speak. In fact, he spent more time in the large shop he’d built for his business than he did in the house. For a guy who spent his living breathing new life into old homes, he wasn’t sure what that said about him.

Beck thought about that for a bit, and then he got mad that he was thinking about it and hopped out of his truck in a rush. He strode inside the house and was immediately hit by a small, vibrating ball of fur that purred so loudly, he was amazed at the sound such a small animal could produce.

It was unbelievable, but he’d forgotten about the kitten.

Earlier, he’d set up a litter box, food, and water in the mudroom where he’d left the little guy, but he must not have latched it properly. Beck scooped him up, and once he made sure the water was topped up and there was kibble in the bowl (he was glad to see the kitten had eaten), he closed the door and headed to his bedroom.

He tossed his clothes onto the chair in the corner of his room and, in his boxers, flopped onto the bed. He’d barely settled in when the kitten began to wail, its cries shrill in the dark and quiet. Beck gave it a couple of minutes, but if anything, the crying got louder.