It's Complicated: A Reservations Story - Page 10

Beckett couldn’t help but look in the direction of the pot farm in the distance. If he squinted his eyes and the sun was in the right position, he could maybe see the large greenhouses from where he stood.

What a trip. When his father had first talked about the possibility of splitting up the back part of the property that had been in their family for over a hundred and fifty years, Beckett was fully against the sale. A century and a half was a long time for something to be passed down from generation to generation only to be sold off for no valid reason.

Then Beckett heard about the pot farm intending to settle there. His father shocked him by even considering the idea. His old man had always been a firm believer that any kind of drug was a bad thing. But somehow, the buyers had talked his old man into selling, probably because they’d agreed to the enormous asking price.

Beckett hadn’t told anyone at the time that he’d done a side hustle on the deal, becoming a silent investor in the pot farm’s business, enabling the guys to buy large pockets of land all over the United States and Canada. That one hastily made investment had changed everything for Beckett. The investment had quickly become profitable. Beckett had made millions of dollars, and the income continued rolling in with no end in sight.

The closer they got to his cabin, the more Beckett relaxed, and Julian’s blue-green gaze returned to the forefront of his thoughts. Julian’s eyes were multidimensional with iridescent shards of crystal flakes inside their depths. Beckett bet Julian was a sight to behold when those unusual eyes heated with lust…

God, Beckett had it bad. Once he’d decided he no longer wanted to live a life without love, he’d gone in the complete opposite direction and set his sights on the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Pretty lofty goals and desires.

A yawn tore free. Beckett glanced up at the position of the sun to judge the time, maybe not quite seven o’clock in the morning. He didn’t need to be at the main lodge until noon. His latest round of clients didn’t arrive until two. They were part of his newest contract with the military. Those elite soldiers coming to train were some of the most intense they had ever hosted. He’d only be gone for three days, but they would be a tough seventy-two hours.

Maybe Beckett could squeeze in a couple hours of sleep before the new class arrived. If those mesmerizing eyes would leave him alone long enough to doze off.

“I’m gonna grab some coffee before I take the jeep to the main lodge,” Randy said, still right behind Beckett.

“I left my truck there yesterday. I need the jeep.”

“I’ll be back to get you at eleven thirty.” Randy rounded past Beckett to climb the steps to his porch, pushing open the front door.

Beckett, with the help of Randy and his father, had built this log cabin about five years ago. Nestled in a thick grove of large trees with a million-dollar view of the mountains just past the folding glass panel doors covering the length of the back wall. Perfect for him.

“What the fuck, St. Clair?”

Randy stopped short in the doorway, blocking Beckett’s entry. He had no idea what Randy saw and shoved him between the shoulder blades to get him through the door. Randy stumbled forward as Beckett looked inside. The clothes he’d ordered had arrived and been placed in the center of his living room.

“Stop making such a big deal about it,” Beckett muttered, sending the door slamming shut behind him.

His buyer from J.Hilburn sent a rack with six new suits in various colors, several pairs of pants, dress shirts, casual wear, and eight shoeboxes if he counted correctly in the quick scan. Beckett bypassed the new clothes, even though he really wanted to take a closer look but refused to listen to Randy go on and on, wondering then guessing what Beckett was up to.

“These don’t look like you,” Randy said, doing a complete three-sixty around the rack. His dirty fingers scooted the hangers around to get a better look. “You had to have met someone to go to this much trouble. Does he know you’re a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy?” From over the rack, Randy looked at Beckett, confused. “When do we get to meet him? It’s a guy, right?”

Beckett decided against relaying the fact that his infatuation remained one-sided. All this trouble for the sole reason to get Julian to pay attention to him. It seemed pathetic and needy, so he kept his lips shut tight and thoughts to himself.

“I’m gonna catch some z’s. Make yourself some coffee, but don’t lose track of the time. Be back here in four hours. Don’t be late. It’s the new military contract. We’ve got to be ready for them. You know they’ll test us.” Beckett went for his bedroom, letting the door shut as he listened to more scraping of the hangers against the rod.

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