Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(56)
Beckett smiled as though Knox had just informed them he’d single-handedly breeched Pentagon security. He knocked back the rest of his beer, chunked it in the thigh-high stainless steel trash can that always seemed to be full and smacked Danny on the shoulder. “Come on, brother. We gotta go.”
Danny sputtered and volleyed his attention between Beck and Knox. “Man, I just started this beer.”
“Toss it,” Beckett said as he rounded the island. He’d changed into a nice button-down, but had kept his faded jeans and a pair of black boots that would make Trevor proud. “Pigs just flew out my front door. I’ll buy you another one to celebrate when we get to the club.”
Still utterly clueless, Danny poured out what was left of his Bud and tossed the bottle. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
Beckett glanced at Knox then zeroed in on Knox’s hand still coiled around Darya’s arm. “I’ll explain on the way to the club.”
Of course, he would. And not just to Danny, but to all the other guys, too. But then the rest of the guys already knew his history. The only surprise they’d get was learning Knox had shown up at his home with a woman in tow.
It wasn’t until Beckett prowled closer and eyeballed Darya that Knox realized how he’d positioned himself in front of her.
Beckett stopped right in front of them and planted both hands on his hips. “You gonna let her out from behind you so I can say hello, or act like a fucking caveman all night?”
Caveman sounded good. Especially if it stopped his brother from making any bigger of a deal of things than he already had. Okay, granted it was a huge deal, but still.
Knox shrugged and stepped to the side.
The second Beck had a clear path to Darya, he stepped in, wrapped her up in one of his big bear hugs and kissed the top of her head. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”
Darya’s gaze shot to Knox, her eyes wide and loaded with questions he didn’t have a clue how to answer.
“Think you’re rushin’ it a bit,” Knox grumbled.
“Really? I’d say I’ve been bettin’ a thousand on this run. Just wished I’d thought to go double or nothing while I had the chance.” He chin-lifted in lieu of a goodbye and ambled to the front door, Danny trailing in his wake. “This mean I need to call rally?” he said without looking back.
“Leave it alone, Beck.”
That earned him a quick grin over Beckett’s shoulder. “Now where’s the fucking fun in that?” He dipped his head at Darya and opened the door. “Have fun.”
The door clunked shut behind them.
Darya adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder, one of those uncertain I-need-something-to-do-with-my-hands moves women always did when they didn’t have a clue how to move forward. “Well, that was interesting.”
“What it was, was Beckett being a pain in my ass.” The weight of their backpacks slung across one shoulder finally got some processing time in his frontal lobe and he motioned to his half of the loft with a jerk of his head. “How about I offload our stuff and show you around? Not sure what I’ve got to eat, but we can order delivery if you want.”
She nodded and fell in beside him. Hearing her heels softly click against the concrete was strangely gratifying. As if a little of the unrefined bachelor fog had been lifted simply by her presence. She craned her neck this way and that, taking in every detail. “What did Beckett mean?”
Fucking Beckett. One of these days he was going to have to find a way to mute the guy’s voice box. He opened the door to his suite and dodged the best he could. “Which part?”
“He said pigs flew out of your front door. Did I misinterpret something?”
He laughed louder than he had in days and veered to the right of the double-sided bookcase that served as the primary divider between his office and his bedroom. Through the wall of windows opposite them, the sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, leaving only a fiery orange in its wake. He set both their packs beside his desk. “Jesus, your English is so good I forget sometimes it’s your second language.”
Circling in one place, she perused the open space. Compared to the contemporary edge of their office, the traditional style was probably a shock, but he’d always told himself if he got a place of his own, he’d trick it out like some fancy English lord. Low and behold, he’d made it happen. She finished her open examination of the space and lifted her eyebrows in silent encouragement to continue.
“It’s hyperbole,” he said, then realized that probably wasn’t going to be much help either. “An exaggeration for a miracle happening. Like when hell freezes over.”
“A miracle?” She meandered over to his bookcase. The bobbleheads he’d collected for as long as he could remember lined the whole center section, except for two shelves packed with pictures he’d saved of him and his brothers. His family.
She nudged his Milton bobblehead from Office Space then seemed to realize he hadn’t answered. “Knox?”
Well, what the hell. Beckett would share the news inside of another thirty minutes anyway, which meant he’d get all of a two-or three-day grace period before the moms swept in. “I brought someone home.”
Her smile slipped, a mix of confusion and sorrow moving across her face. “You’ve never done that?”