Read Picked Page 20


  With a little help from Justine, I agreed to a date with Cooper the next night. Maybe he would help me with the whole Becker thing. There wasn’t an hour that went by that he didn’t cross my mind. That was pretty good. A week ago it was every few seconds. I liked Cooper. He went to school in Pittsburgh so it wasn’t like it would be a long distance relationship. At least he lived in the same state, but far enough away to not suffocate me. Not that I was looking for a relationship, just someone to fill the void.

  Call it fate or just Justine’s luck, but it just so happens, Cooper had a friend. Hunter would be companying Cooper. Justine was way more excited about the blind double date than I was. Honestly, I hoped he was perfect for her. The best friend, trying to be there for me while my broken heart mended was getting old. I loved Justine. I just didn’t love to see her every single day and I needed some space. I didn’t want to let her in on what I had on my mind just yet. I needed to figure it out on my own.

  Finally making it home, I looked around my messy house, disappointed in myself. I’d promised I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t let it get the way it was before Becker came in and tried to organize my life. I knew then that’s what he was doing, trying to make my life a little less chaotic, and what did I do? Put it back the way it was. It was who I was. I couldn’t help it.

  Lying in bed, I replaced the thoughts of Becker with my mom. I needed to go to the cemetery. The headstone wouldn’t lie. If she died in September, it would say September. When was the last time I was there? I hadn’t been there since I was like ten. Why? I mean, I know why. I didn’t like to think of her buried beneath the dirt. Thinking about it, I knew that came from my dad. I could hear him telling me how we didn’t go there because it was a sad and morbid place. We should stay away from there. That programming came from him, not me. He conditioned me to not want to go there.

  And Matt. I was sure that was me, standing on the banister in front of my mother. Why were we on the front porch of Matt’s house? The kid in the wheelchair. Who was he? Did he live with Matt? Was he Matt’s kid? And the M all over Matt’s paperwork. It never said Matt whatever, only Matt M. My paperwork contained my last name, so did everyone else’s. Why wasn’t Matt’s? There were too many unanswered questions, mysteries that I’d never questioned before.

  The last thing I remembered before dozing off had nothing to do with any of the missing pieces at all. It was Becker. His strong arms, and his lips, whispering that he loved me.

  Promising myself I would clean up my house and do some laundry as soon as I returned, I closed the door on the mess. Thank god I was meeting Cooper and his friend at the restaurant. I would never let him in my house looking like that.

  My first stop was the cemetery, and sure enough, I was right. My mother died in March. How could that be? I remember my dad telling me she died. It wasn’t long after he tried to make me go to her bed, was it? Could that many months be manipulated to a six-year-old? Why, though? Why would he lie to me? Something wasn’t right. I had to find out what, but how? How was I supposed to find the answers to something I wasn’t supposed to know about? Better yet. Why wasn’t I supposed to know about them?

  I spent a good hour visiting my mother, talking to her about my dad, Matt, and Becker. She understood. I may not have gotten any answers, but I really felt like she understood every word I was saying. I could see us painting our toes, discussing my troubles. She would stroke my hair and tell me how much love sucked, then we would eat Rocky Road ice cream and watch a comedy. Something un-romantic.

  My next stop was to Matt’s. I just wanted to check his mail. He had to have a last name. It wasn’t M. I was sure of that. Driving down his street, I felt it again. I spent time there. I knew I did, but when and why? Did my parents live there when they were first married? And why did Matt live there now? That couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?

  I didn’t get to find out. Matt was in the front yard, tossing a ball back and forth with the boy in the wheelchair. Rolling the window down, I parked behind a truck, hoping to get close enough to hear something, anything.

  “You decide on your classes for this year?” Matt asked, not going easy on the fly ball.

  Damn. This kid was good. He never flinched.

  “Yeah, we do that at the end of the year. I didn’t take Spanish like I planned, though. I decided to take French instead.”

  “You planning on going to France?”

  “Maybe. We should go this year, before school starts.”

  Matt laughed, sending a ball flying over his head. I had to duck when Matt ran after it. “You take your allowance and pay for it, and I’ll gladly go with you,” he teased, tossing the ball straight up in the air. “You want to go sit by the river tomorrow? Maybe catch some dinner?”

  “Yeah, can Chandler come, too?”

  “Chandler? You want to bring a girl fishing?”

  “Come on, Matt. Why not. She can play with my worm,” the boy teased.

  “NO! No girls,” Matt said, throwing a threatening ball right between his eyes. The boy laughed, catching it with ease. Who the hell was this kid? He called him Matt…

  Chapter 23

  Of course, Justine had to come over and do my hair, my makeup, and choose my clothes. I protested the too-revealing, tight shirt to no avail. She was making me wear it. Not only was I showing too much cleavage for my liking, I was also showing too much shoulder. I didn’t feel sexy. I didn’t want to look sexy, and I hated how big it made my breasts look. They weren’t that big. The red shirt did go nice with the black mini skirt. I liked the skirt, it helped me look sexy without looking trashy the way the shirt did.

  My hair was nice, she did a nice job on that part of me. I loved the wide curls and the way it hung just over my right eye. The red lips were a bit much, but just like the red shirt, it wasn’t going anywhere. I would just conspicuously wipe it away throughout the night.

  I drove Justine’s car. She wouldn’t ride in mine. It, like my house that I never got around to cleaning, needed a trash bag and a good scrubbing. Maybe I will do that tomorrow, too. Cooper and his friend, Hunter met us at the Carlisle Inn.

  Damn. Cooper cleaned up very nicely. His ass looked hot as hell in black dress pants. Maybe I could do this. I had to be optimistic and move on. He may not be the one, but he would hopefully help me to stop thinking about Becker every single day.

  “Oh my god, Cass. I’m in love already,” Justine drooled, eyeing her date for the evening. Hunter was cute, too, very cute. His hair was longer, the only thing I already didn’t like about him was his build, not because it wasn’t nice. It was. It was just too much like Becker’s. Grrr. Stop comparing every guy with a penis to Becker. Not that either one of these guys’ penises would compare to his, but—ugh. Stop it, Cass.

  The guys led us to the bar. We had almost an hour before our table reservation. Sitting on the side of the bar with the dance floor, we ordered drinks. Deciding right that second that I was going to leave the investigating for another day and forget about Becker, I ordered a Mai Tai. I was there to have a few drinks, a delicious meal, and have a good time. Sipping my drink, I instantly compared it to Christina’s. Hers was much better.

  Cooper and Hunter were a riot. A little immature, but fun. Justine really liked Hunter, I could tell. They actually had a lot in common. I often told Justine she needed to marry Matt because of her choice of music. She loved the old rock stuff, so did Hunter. Hunter also liked pizza with nothing but cheese and onions. Yuck. Justine’s mouth dropped when he announced that unnecessary information. Maybe they were a match made in heaven.

  “You want to dance?” Cooper asked.

  “Sure,” I agreed, taking his hand. Why not. I was there to have a good time after all.

  Slow dancing with Cooper, Justine smiled at me, giving me a thumbs up while she wrapped her arms around Hunter’s neck to dance, too. I smiled at her. Cooper smelled amazing, not quite as good as—no. Never mind. He smelled awesome. I loved the smell of him. His arms felt goo
d, too. Strong and masculine. I could picture him doing pushups over top of me. That may have been the two drinks talking.

  “I still can’t believe you’re a private investigator. You don’t seem like the type.”

  I laughed a little too loud. Yup. Definitely the drinks. “What type is a PI?”

  “I don’t know. Someone not as pretty as you. Someone not so delicate and dainty.”

  “Dainty? Justine is smaller than me.”

  “Yeah, but she does hair and paints nails. I can picture her doing that. I have a hard time picturing you as a private investigator.”

  “What do you picture me doing?” I played along.

  “Oh, maybe standing in front of a kindergarten class or something.”

  I laughed again. “That’s exactly what Matt says.”

  “Matt?”

  “Oh, a coworker. He doesn’t think I belong there, either. I think he’s just a male chauvinistic pig, though.”

  “You the only girl?”

  “Pretty much. There’s Marti, but she’s more of a man than a female.”

  “So you like, bust in doors and shit?”

  “Cass?”

  “Cass? You okay?” I heard Cooper repeat. I tried to swallow with a sudden dry mouth.

  “Huh?” I asked, staring right at him. Becker. No way. No freaking way. Of all places to go, he had to choose this place?

  “You okay?” Cooper asked again, staring down at me.

  “Yeah, yeah, I think I need to sit down.”

  “Our table is ready,” he nodded to the other side of the dining room. The dance floor separated our table from Becker and Alana’s. I looked over my shoulder when Cooper led me to our table by my hand. Becker looked pissed and Alana smiled at me with a sad smile. What did that mean? Why did she look like that? Why did Becker look pissed?

  “You mind if I sit on that side?” I asked when Cooper pulled my chair out.

  “Sure, why?”

  “No reason. I can see the dance floor better here. Can I get another drink, oh and maybe a shot of RumChata?” I asked our waiter. I was going to need another drink. And the shot.

  I kept trying to get Justine’s attention, needing a girl break in the bathroom. She wasn’t getting it. She was too busy flirting and hanging all over Hunter. If she went home with him, so help me god. I could see Becker and Alana every so often and then fully once the floor cleared. Why the hell did the band need a break? They were barely even doing anything. It was a slow song, for Pete’s sakes.

  Justine gave me a weird look when I downed my shot, gulped my Mai Tai, and gulped it again, taking the cherry with me. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” I ordered, feeling the drinks when I stood. For real. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t get out much. I was a cheap date, what can I say?

  “What’s gotten into you?” Justine asked, closing the door.

  Locking the door and looking under the two stalls, I determined that we were alone. “Becker is here with Alana.”

  “So.”

  “So? I can’t be around him.”

  “Why not? You dated for a couple months. It’s not like you were in love with the guy or anything.”

  “Oh my god, Justine. You’re so clueless sometimes.”

  “Was there more? Because if there was, you never really told me that. You seemed fine to me. You never even mention him. I don’t get what’s going on here,” Justine protested. She was right. I didn’t disclose anything to her. I kept it hidden from her. My mother is the only one who knew how I truly felt about the only man to ever have this kind of influence on me and I’d just told her that day.

  “You’re right. It just startled me, seeing them here. I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute. I want to freshen my makeup. Order me a drink, would you?”

  “What’s that make, like five? You’re going to get sick.”

  “You always bitch at me for not drinking. Now you’re going to bitch because I am?”

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. You’re acting very strange. Fix your lipstick,” she nodded to my reflection in the mirror.

  I flipped my wrists back and forth, taking deep breaths while I tried to get my shit together. I wasn’t expecting this sort of reaction. Then again, I wasn’t expecting to run into Becker, either. You’ve got this, Cass. You’re a McClelland, I pep talked myself in the mirror. I was glad Justine made me wear this outfit now. I looked hot. I looked sexy and hot as hell. Flipping my hair, I let the newfound alcohol nerves take over. Screw Becker Cole and all his wives. I didn’t need them. None of them. I was spending the evening with a hot guy, had my best friend with me, and I was having a good time.

  We ordered and I was the one to ask Cooper to dance while we waited, right after I downed another RumChata. The music was still slow, but a little faster than the last dance. I danced for Becker, spinning, rubbing my ass in Cooper’s crotch, and swaying my hips with his. He didn’t mind. Cooper was a very good dancer. I was even starting to feel a little aroused. I did look over to Becker and his clenched jaw every so often. I loved it. There. Take that. How’s it feel, asshole?

  I wasn’t expecting the kiss. I wasn’t expecting it at all. I wanted to pull away, but didn’t. I let my tongue dance with Coopers briefly before turning my head. Not because of the kiss. It wasn’t that. It was more of the feelings going on in my stomach. I was going to get sick. That was enough dancing. I would have to make Becker jealous when I was sober.

  I ate some of my salad and couldn’t touch the buttery lobster. It made me sick just looking at it. I asked for ice water and excused myself to the bathroom.

  “Is that why you changed your number? Is that why you refuse to give me the time of day? You could have told me, Cass,” Becker said, locking the door behind him. God, I wanted him. I wanted to go to him and wrap my arms around his neck, smell his Becker mountain scent, feel his lips on mine.

  “I did tell you, Becker. I told you from day one, I couldn’t share.”

  “And neither can I. Who is he?”

  “He’s nobody, Beck. I just met him yesterday,” I said, leaning against the sink. I held the ledge with white knuckles to keep from falling over.

  “You really expect me to believe you just met this guy yesterday? You were all over him out there.”

  “That was for you. That was to show you how it feels. I can’t stand to see you kiss the girls, and the night I watched you make love to Alana was the icing on the cake for me. I can’t, Becker.”

  “You taking him home?”

  “Oh, my god. Did you not hear anything I just said?”

  “Yes. I heard every word of it, but the only thing I can think about is you underneath this guy. I want to go rip his head off.”

  “I love you, Beck, but it doesn’t matter. You’re still going home to Alana, Britney, and Christina. Is tonight Alana’s night? You sleeping with Alana tonight?”

  “You just said you love me.”

  I shook my head. He was hearing what he wanted to hear and that was it. “Do you have any idea what it took for me to say that?”

  “A whole bottle?”

  I snickered. I had to. The way he said it was funny as hell, and yeah, he was probably right. Alcohol played a big role in me telling Becker I loved him.

  “Don’t do this, Cass,” Becker said, walking toward me. I didn’t want him to walk to me. I didn’t want him this close. “I miss you. I miss you like crazy. You really don’t want this guy’s murder on your hands, do you?” he teased, wrapping me in his arms.

  Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. This was so wrong it was right.

  I used the alcohol excuse. When all else fails, blame it on the booze, right? I kissed him. I couldn’t help it. I missed him, too. I didn’t want to be without him, and as nice and handsome as Cooper was, he wasn’t Becker. This. This right here is what I wanted, what I longed for, thought about on a daily basis, and missed. I missed him so much.

  “Becker, no,” I protested when I felt my skirt being slid up my hips.

  “
I have to,” he confessed, fumbling with his belt. Oh my god. My clitoris began to jump out of my panties. He wasn’t seriously going to do this.

  Oh, yes he was. Becker wasted not one second. He lifted me to the sink, slid my panties to the side, and entered me. I let him. I let him fill me with every inch, moaning and wanting it, wanting him. Maybe not in the bathroom of a club like some white trash from the hood, but nonetheless, I wanted it as much as he did. It was quick. Record time, quick. Becker circled my throbbing nub with his thumb while thrusting in and out of me. As soon as I stiffened my hips and bit my bottom lip, he knew. He pressed harder on my clit and let go with me. Jesus Christ, what did I just do?

  “I don’t want him satisfying you,” he admitted, kissing me.

  I didn’t want Cooper doing that, either. I wanted Becker to do it, but only to me, not the girls.

  “I love you, Cassie. I don’t know how to make this easier for you. I don’t know what to say or do to keep you. You’re the best thing that’s never been mine. I want you. I want you to be mine.”

  “Becker, I can’t do your philandering life. It will never work for me. I can’t.”

  “Try, Cass. Please try.”

  “I did. I tried, Becker. I can’t. Please understand that. If you want it to be you and me, I will leave with you right now. If you insist on it being me, Christina, Alana, and Britney, I can’t. I won’t.” I felt like crying when he brought my feet to the floor and kissed the corner of my lips.

  “I love you, Cass. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

  “What? That’s it. You’re just walking out?” I asked, raising my voice a little while he zipped up, putting himself away. “Did you just come in here to fuck me?” I asked with narrowed eyes, lowering my own skirt. Oh, lord. I was going to be sick. I could feel it.