Beckett’s bellow hammered her heart into overdrive, and she flinched, pulling her shoulders up and fisting her hands. She had to force herself not to run, but rushed along the fence line of the parking lot. With no idea where the hell she was going, she kept her focus on putting distance between her and Beckett and his family before her mind started working.
“Eden.” A woman’s voice startled her, but Eden didn’t stop moving. She was behind Eden, her footsteps quick. “Eden, wait.”
A hand touched her arm. Eden spun and backed away. “I’m sorry.” The words came out breathless. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t—”
“I’m not his wife,” she said, her expression as compassionate as her soft voice. “I’m his sister. Sarah.”
Relief swept through Eden. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the chain-link fence to keep from falling and focused on the black pavement. “Oh, thank God.”
“And two of those girls are mine,” she said. “My daughters Rachel and Amy.”
Which meant…
In her mind, she saw that sweet little angel running to Beckett. Saw Beckett, in his slacks, dress shirt, and tie, hair still damp from the shower, drop his bag and catch the girl like he’d done it a million times.
A hard knot balled beneath her ribs. Eden lifted her head and looked at Sarah. “He has…a daughter.”
Sarah nodded. “Lily. She’s amazing. I’m so sorry we blindsided you like this. I didn’t know you were coming tonight, and I didn’t tell Beckett we were going to be here either. It was one of those last-minute things… God, I feel so bad…”
Lily.
Even her name broke Eden’s heart.
“It’s not your fault.” Eden released the fence. “I have to go.”
She turned.
“Eden, wait.” Sarah came around and stepped in front of her. “Don’t go. I’ll take the girls home. I promised them ice cream after anyway. You and Beckett can still—”
“No.” The word came out as a pained whisper. “No, we can’t.”
17
Beckett crossed his arms on his knees and rested his forehead there. Cold from the concrete steps in front of Eden’s door had seeped through his pants and frozen his ass half an hour ago. But he was going to fucking sleep here if that was the only way to get her to open the door.
After forty-five minutes of trying to talk to her, he was now reminding her he was still there every five. If he’d known this was how he was going to spend his night, he would have stopped to pick up a blanket and some water.
He lifted his head. “I’m still here.”
Beckett didn’t even wait for a response, just put his head back down.
Footsteps shuffled on the sidewalk behind him. The hair on his neck prickled. Ah, fuck. Beckett lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder. Two men stood three feet away. It was almost eight p.m. now and the streetlight shone at their backs, so Beckett couldn’t see much of them.
“What’s up?” he asked congenially, as if he sat on stoops in the hood in his suit all the time.
“Who are you, man? And why you been sitting here?”
“Friend of Eden’s.” He sighed and shifted to put his back against the iron railing. “And I’ve been asking myself that for a while.”
“Friends let you in. We don’t like you hanging here. This is our territory. Take your fancy ride and get.”
“Sorry, I’m not going anywhere.” To ease the sting of confrontation, he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it down. Don’t want the cops coming to bust up my party.”
“You’re stalking,” the shorter guy said. “You can go to jail for that.”
“I’m waiting,” Beckett told him. “Big difference.”
“Fuck this, man.” The taller guy stepped over Beckett’s legs, jogged down the stairs, and pounded on the door. “Yo, Eden. You want me and Arturo to get rid of this guy for you?”