Theo’s worried gaze darted through the open door.
“Now, dude,” Josh demanded. “Go.”
When Theo turned and hustled toward the front of the club, Josh slipped off his watch and handed it to Jasmine. “In three minutes—three”—he tapped the watch face—“you create some kind of emergency to get Grace inside.”
Jasmine nodded. “Got it.”
Josh stepped outside, where Beck and Grace stood four feet apart, arguing. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Beck looked almost the same as he had the last time Josh had seen him: tall, chiseled, dark, and sporting a few scrapes and bruises on his face and forearms.
Beck swept a hand up and down, gesturing to Grace’s body. “What is this? Who are you? What happened?”
“The same thing that always happens when you’re gone, Isaac. Life happens. I grow and change, and you come home the same judgmental asshole.”
“Maybe because those changes aren’t for the better.”
“Says you. But the funny thing is, it’s my life. Not yours, not ours, mine. Good or bad, they’re my changes to make.”
“I care about you,” Isaac implored in a way Josh knew was true. Beck wasn’t a bad guy; he was just dense and self-absorbed. “I want the best for you.”
“Then leave me to live my life. You coming here creating drama is not best for me.”
Beck rubbed his face with both hands, and his gaze landed on Josh. “I trusted you, you fucker.”
“I did exactly what you asked. And Grace is perfectly fine. I didn’t lie to you.”
“Don’t fuckin’ split hairs with me, asshole. And what the fuck are you still doing here?” He gestured to the tool belt around Josh’s waist. “What’s that about?”
Josh opened his mouth to answer, but Grace spoke first. “He’s helping me build a studio, Isaac. I told you, I’m teaching, not stripping. Josh believes in my abilities. He doesn’t try to stuff me into the box of a twenty-two-year-old and keep me there.”
Oh…shit… Just as Josh had expected, Beck read between the lines. His body stilled. His gaze darted between Grace and Josh, disbelief and anger mounting in his expression. “Wait… Are you two…?” Reality hit. His expression turned murderous, and he straightened, hands balled into fists at his side. “Are you fucking my wife, asshole?”
Jasmine stepped outside. “Grace, we need you in here. Colleen fell. I think her ankle might be busted.”
A sound of shocked agony popped from Grace. Josh jerked his head toward the door. “Go. Beck and I have to work this out.”
Grace stiffened and pointed a stern finger at both of them. “I swear to God, if you two start brawling out here, I’m going to make sure you both end up in jail. In the same cell.”
After Grace disappeared inside, Jasmine closed the door. The snick of a dead bolt gave Josh one tiny sliver of relief—Grace was safe. He, on the other hand, was in a world of trouble.
As expected, Beck came at Josh full speed and rammed his shoulder into Josh’s chest, rocketing him back against the building. Before Josh had time to suck air, Beck flattened his hand against Josh’s chest and raised his fist.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t fuckin’ beat the shit out of you right now.”
Josh looked Beck directly in the eye. “I’ll give you two—one, Grace divorced you three goddamned years ago. She’s not your wife, she’s your ex-wife, and she has the right to see anyone she pleases, the way you’ve seen a dozen different women since then. And two, think about what happened the last time you tried to beat the shit out of me.”
Beck’s lips thinned. The memory of ending up stuck in the infirmary side by side for three days after they’d gotten in a stupid-ass brawl over an op gone bad flashed in Beck’s eyes. He growled and shoved Josh against the building again, but then backed off, pacing in the night.
Josh took a breath, then let all his anger toward the man pour out. “If you cared about Grace the way you just claimed to care, you wouldn’t have married her in the first place.” He pushed off the wall. “You wouldn’t have volunteered for all those extra assignments that kept you overseas.” He started a slow progression toward Beck as he spoke. “You would have come home when you could have and given Grace the family she’s always wanted. You would have fucking helped her with the expenses of keeping her mother in an Alzheimer’s facility when she told you her mother was sick.”
Beck stopped pacing, turned on Josh, and yelled, “She didn’t want help. I did offer. She kept turning me down.”
“That’s a fucking copout. That’s like saying bin Laden wouldn’t come out of hiding, so we just stop trying to find him. Grace was your wife. You know she’s stubborn and independent. They’re two of the things you loved most about her. And they’re the very reason you two stayed married as long as you did. A weaker woman would have bailed on your ass the first time you extended your tour instead of coming home—and she’d have been justified. If you really cared about Grace, you would have pushed through her resistance. You would have found a way to help.
“Because the truth is, she’s working at this strip club because you didn’t step up, shithead. She’s doing what she needs to do to pay the crazy bills, because this is her mother we’re talking about. A mother who has always treated you like her own son. A mother who’s treated you better than your own fucking mother—”
“Okay,” Beck yelled, throwing his arms out and pacing again. “Jesus, dude, the horse is fucking dead already.”
Josh shut up. Watching Beck pace as he absorbed everything he’d denied until now but had to accept. And in the silence, Josh had to find his own resolution to the realization that Grace had been right all along—love alone wasn’t enough. They also needed trust. And not only hadn’t she trusted Josh’s commitment to her, but she’d tried to keep Beck’s visit a secret.