“I’m so sorry to…er…”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Fuck and run?”
“Well, technically you’re the one leaving, but basically yeah.” She bit her lip and clasped her hands together.
She was kicking him out? He wanted to scrunch up his face with displeasure. He was the one who fucked and ran. Eh, it didn’t have such a good sound in past tense. Whatever. Chicks usually weren’t booting him out of bed. And he kind of didn’t like it.
But he kept his face impassive. “No need to apologize, beautiful.” He meandered toward her, stopping to scoop up his jeans, aware of her gaze tracking down his body, then snapping back up to his face. Her lips parted.
A little satisfaction eased his annoyance. It would be so easy to convince her to go another round. But she was right, it was time to go. He stopped in front of her, brushed his lips over hers, and said, “I do have to go. There are some things I need to look after at Conquistadors.”
Her eyelashes fluttered and she nodded. “Right.”
He stepped into his boxers and jeans, then pulled his T-shirt over his head. He patted his back pocket to make sure his wallet was there, and dug out his car key from a front pocket.
“I’ll see you to the door.”
She padded along behind him in bare feet.
Along the way, with the keen observation that had been trained into him, he quickly assessed more details about her condo. It wasn’t big, apparently only one bedroom, her living room containing a couch and love seat and television, but also a long desk on one wall, with bookshelves above it.
The bright red leather sofa and loveseat were unexpected. So were the framed photographs on the walls, gorgeous scenic pictures and some interesting portraits that he wished he had more time to study. These things only raised more questions in his head about her.
Questions he did not need to know the answers to.
He turned at the door with a smile. “Thanks for coming to the beach with me.”
“Thank you.” She swallowed and her cheeks went adorably scarlet. “For dinner. For the fun in the arcade. And for the…”
“Fuck?” he offered again.
She let out a little huff, but her eyebrows pulled together. “Okay, yes.”
“It was my pleasure, beautiful.” He kissed her once more. “G’night.”
He jogged to his car, the sky now a deep blue. Palm trees rustled in the evening breeze that carried a faint ocean scent. He used a driveway to turn around and headed down Grand Avenue toward Conquistadors. He could walk there from here, and to his home, oddly enough. He’d chosen his condo partly for its proximity to Conquistadors but also for the view of Sail Bay and the Bayside Walk that led all the way around to Mission Beach, where they’d just come from. He loved his morning runs along the water or taking his bike out for an easy spin, enjoying pale sand, palm trees, blue sea, and sky.
He’d been surprised to learn Hayden’s address wasn’t far from his own.
Instead of turning off Grand to go home, he continued and drove into the small parking lot behind Conquistadors, with its “Reserved Parking” signs for him, Marco, and Cade.
Jesus. Someone was parked in his fucking spot. Scowling, he drove around the block, and lucked into a spot not far away.
He entered through the front door. Despite his annoyance at having to park on the street, he still felt a twinge of pride in what they’d created here. The main selling point for the bar had been its location, close to the beach and other restaurants and shops. But they’d poured some equity into it, including sweat equity, as they’d demolished, rebuilt, sanded, and painted, and the results were deeply satisfying.
Even on a Sunday night, business was brisk, though more so in the bar than the restaurant. He paused to survey empty tables on the restaurant side, sighing inwardly, then continued into the bar, where Marco was mixing margaritas.
“Hey, man.”
Marco glanced at him. “What are you doing here? It’s your Sunday off.”
Managing a bar was long hours, seven days a week, and the partners divided shifts so that each of them had at least a couple of days off in a row every few weeks, and they weren’t all there from morning till night.
“I just can’t stay away from you guys.”
“Ha. Couldn’t get laid tonight?”
Beck grimaced.
Marco laughed. “No shit! You’re losing your magic touch?”
Beck’s gut tensed. For some reason, he preferred to take Marco’s bullshit than tell him he’d been with Hayden. Because Marco and Cade would give him no end of grief if they knew he’d gone back to see her.
“I had some stuff to do here,” he said with a shrug.