I could easily love that man, and it could easily be the hardest, most rewarding risk I’ve ever taken. Sometimes I wonder if I’m already starting to fall for him. We’re together almost every day. He’s my label-free version of comfort and excitement.

Thinking about it is dangerous though. The thought of admitting to myself that I’m falling in love with a man who doesn’t want to be loved makes me sick to my stomach.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m happy.”

“Good.” Jeremiah takes me in like it’s the last time and gives a tight nod. “Glad to hear that, Sam.”

“See you around,” I say.

Reaching for Carissa’s hand, they walk away. There’s a lightness in my chest. I can breathe now.

“What do you say we head back?” I whisper to the sleeping babe in my arms.

***

“Hello, hello?” I push the stroller off the elevator and into Beckham’s foyer. He’s sitting in his favorite wingback chair in the living room. “Surveying your kingdom again?”

He turns, his face lighting when he sees us. Rising, he comes our way and scoops Sadie in his arms.

“Dane and Bellamy go back?” I ask.

“Yeah. They headed to the hotel to pack. Their flight leaves in a few hours.”

“Bellamy’s a sweet girl. I like her.”

Beckham’s head cocks. “Not sure what she’s doing with a guy like my brother, but who am I to judge?”

I bump his shoulder with my fist. “Dane is a good guy. He deserves a good girl.”

“You give him too much credit.” His brows jump. “You give everyone too much credit.”

Watching Beckham cradle the baby and swing her side to side has quickly become one of my favorite things to do. Dizziness rains over me as my heart hammers at the thought of Sadie not being here a day from now.

I’m torn between wanting to spend this final, lazy Sunday with Beckham and Sadie and wanting to give them their own final day together…

Just in case…

“I should get going.” I tighten my purse strap over my shoulder.

He whips his attention my way, face scrunching. “Why?”

“Laundry,” I blurt. “It’s laundry day.”

I cringe, hoping he won’t see through me.

“You should stick around,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you being so weird?” His full lips curl up, his head angled. “Hang on.”

He sweeps Sadie off, taking her back to her crib and returning a minute later.

“You staying or what?” He points at my feet, which are still strapped into a pair of hot pink running shoes from our walk at the park.

Kicking them off and dropping my bag on the foyer buffet, I say, “Yeah. Sure. I’ll stick around for a bit.”

I follow him to the living room, draping myself across his sofa like I own the thing. Funny how comfortable I’ve become lately, but I almost feel like I live here. At least part-time.

“The court hearing is tomorrow.” His solemn voice breaks my heart.

“I know.”

“I was wondering,” he swallows. “If you’d come along. You know. As a friend.”

Popping up, I turn to him. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

His face rests in his cupped hand, his stare glazed, gray and despondent.

I go to him, falling to my knees and taking his hand in mine. “It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It’s okay to be scared.”

Beckham smirks, refusing to look at me.

“I’m serious,” I say. “I’m asking you to let your guard down a little. You can be yourself with me. As your friend, I’m asking you to stop being so damn strong all the time.”

Our eyes meet. I’m still on my knees.

“I think we passed the friend stage a while back, don’t you?” His words are hungry and scared and wanton all swirled into one low growl that makes my heart stop cold.

“Did we?” My voice breaks, residing meekly in the back of my throat.

He pulls me into his lap, fingers laced around my waist as I lower my body against his. Our lips graze, my fingers lacing around the back of his neck.

“What is this?” I whisper, trying to curb my enthusiasm in case it’s another case of Beckham needing a quick release.

His lips crush mine. “What do you want it to be, Dess?”

Way to put me on the spot.

I taste his mouth again and again, buying time and satiating my cravings.

“We’re something,” he says, his voice reverberating from his chest into mine. “No fucking denying that.”

I nod, fingers lacing in his thick, dark mane. “We really need to label it?”

His teeth rake across the flesh of my neck, his lips burning and his hands traveling up my shirt.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I want to fucking label it. I want to know that tomorrow, when I wake up, no matter what happens, I’m going to have you. I can’t lose you both. I…can’t…”

Yanking my shirt over my head, his hands slip under the lace demi cups of my bra, and he leans in to take a pert nipple between his soft, wanting lips.

“Say you belong to me,” he growls, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I need to hear it, Dess…”

My head dips back, his hands searching my body, skirting along my sensitive flesh.

“I’m yours,” I whisper.

His fingers slip inside the waist of my leggings, and travel between my thighs until they find my wet slit. Dragging his fingertips between my seam, his thumb circles my swollen clit.

I grind against him, his fingers sliding deep inside me, coaxing me, teasing me.

He doesn’t stop, and I realize this isn’t about him. For the first time, this isn’t about a physical release for Beckham.

“Do I make you happy?” His free hand presses against the small of my back as my hips rock.

Biting my lip and squeezing my eyes, I offer a breathless, “Yes.”

“Am I enough for you?”

“God, Beckham, yes…you’re enough…”

And yet I can’t get enough of you…

Minutes later I’m unable to fight the burning friction building up below. With hips circling and rocking, I ride myself to the edge, collapsing against his chest when it’s over.

“I didn’t want to need you.” With Beckham’s face buried in my hair, his soft tone tickles my ear. “God, I fought it like hell.”

I smile though he can’t see.

His fingers slip up the back of my neck before tangling in my hair and tugging me back until our eyes meet.

“Do you remember what you told me the first time we went to Utah?” His blue eyes radiate in the afternoon sunlight. “You said one of these days I was going to meet my match, and she was going to knock me sideways.”

“I remember.”

“You’re my fucking match, Odessa. I knew right then it was going to be you,” he says. “It’s been you since the moment you flipped me off in the elevator.”

Quiet laughter fills my chest, and I rest my cheek against his steel shoulder. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into him.

My father’s words echo in my mind, “Life didn’t matter until your mother.”

“I was just existing before I met you,” I whisper, voice cracked. “You brought me to life.”

Closing my eyes, my lips find his, soaking in this moment, basking in the beauty of a moment that will define us for the rest of our lives.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

BECKHAM

The knot of my tie is crooked.

I’ve tied hundreds, thousands of ties in my day, but for some reason I can’t get this one right.

My fingers show a hint of a tremor as I tug it loose and start over again. Facing the mirror, I drape the tie around my neck and cross one end over the other.

Odessa steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body and slicking her soaked hair out of her face.

“Need help?” She saunters toward me, gripping the pale pink tie and starting from the top. A minute later it’s done. Perfectly. “There.”

The white envelope rests on the bathroom counter. I’d shoved it in a drawer for weeks, not ready yet to see the results. I now know that I’ll never be ready.

“The hearing’s in an hour,” she says. “We’ve got to get going.”

Her eyes drop toward the white letter, and she pauses.