Arms locked at her sides, Kenna came closer, staying just out of his reach.
“Hey, Mary?”
His ex-girlfriend jolted at the sound of another female voice, although how she could have missed his rapt attention on Kenna baffled him. Couldn’t everyone tell he was taken? The fact was so carved in stone it had to be stamped on every inch of his body.
Mary swiped a hand across her eyes, darting a look between Kenna and Beck. “Y-yes?”
“I, um.” Kenna shifted in her heels. “You seem nice and all, which kind of blows. I was hoping you’d be evil, maybe wearing a coat made of puppies or something.” She took a step toward Beck. “But I’m sorry. You’re going to have to fight me for him.”
For the first time in his life, he experienced what it felt like to be weak and strong, both at the same time. His limbs shook with the need to hold her, while his heart rumbled like an approaching locomotive, gaining power with each passing second. Kenna had already been his, but nothing would ever compare to hearing her make it official, despite her own fears. Nothing.
Mary gave a resigned laugh. “Looks like someone beat me to it.” She wedged her purse beneath her arm. “I can’t even say I’m the least bit surprised. I knew if it wasn’t me, a good woman was going to snatch you up one day and never let go.”
As Mary repeated the words Kenna had said to him their first night together, her mouth fell open. That’s right, darlin’. You’re that good woman. And I’m the luckiest fucking guy on the planet.
Neither one of them broke eye contact as Mary turned and left the building. Beck wasn’t sure he’d look anywhere but at Kenna ever again.
“So, yeah. I’m fighting for you,” she whispered. “And I’ll go with you to Georgia on one condition.”
“Which is?”
Her smile melted the remaining ice in his chest. “I drive.”
“Thank Christ.” Beck lunged forward to grip the sides of her face. “You don’t have to fight for me, you crazy, gorgeous girl.” His thumbs swept across her cheeks. “Neither of us has to fight. We won.”
Her laugh sounded slightly incredulous. “I mean, I was really ready to throw down, though.”
Beck shook his head, dying to get started on the next sixty years with this girl. “It’s a good thing you held off,” he murmured, watching her green eyes go smoky. Yeah, she knew what was coming. “You’re going to need your energy.”
She gasped as he dipped down, wrapped his arms behind her legs and threw her over his shoulder. She recovered in time to smack his ass as they strode through the double doors, out into the night. Together.
EPILOGUE
Kenna walked through the peach grove, a plastic jug of lemonade swinging by her side. Yeah, she was that girlfriend who brought refreshment to the hard-working men—so sue her. She’d worked damn hard herself that morning, having been commissioned by the local parks department for a statue honoring a local town legend, which just happened to be Beck’s great-great-grandfather. A project she’d enjoyed all the more for its importance to her boyfriend.
Beck. Kenna was grateful for the summer breeze lifting the hair off her neck, as the mere act of thinking his name heated every inch of her skin, sent a languorous thrill sliding down her spine. They’d arrived in Georgia two weeks ago and true to his word, Beck had found her a workshop. Before they’d even unpacked, he’d begun clearing out a small barn adjacent to the house, working like a man possessed despite her assurances that she could wait. His aim to solidify her place in Georgia—eliminating any and all excuses to leave—was clear as the bright, blue, southern sky above her.
Watching Beck from the kitchen window as he’d carried lumber into the barn, she’d waited. Waited for her skittishness to return. Waited for her cowardly impulses to flair, sending her running back to Fort Black Rock, where she wouldn’t have such pressure to hold up one end of a relationship. What did she know about relationships, anyway?
Nothing. And it didn’t matter two shits. She had a man who cared enough to stay awake three nights in a row, building her a dream workshop, complete with Christmas lights and a hammock. A man who maintained just enough energy to flip her over upon finally returning to bed and claiming her like a lust-crazed animal. Yeah. You didn’t question a single thing when a man like Beck found and kept you. So Kenna Sutton was holding on for dear life.
Masculine voices reached her from up ahead in the clearing, a circle of pick-up trucks peeking through the trees. Knowing Beck would be easy to spot, since he stood a foot taller than most, a smile was already beginning on Kenna’s lips when she stepped off the path—