“I got it.” Beckett’s voice sounded closer behind her than she expected.
She jumped and twisted to find him leaning against the opposite kitchen counter. “I didn’t hear you.”
His gaze settled on the spread baby book and the red marking her hands. She didn’t know what to say, so she blurted out. “I know it’s important to you. I couldn’t not try.”
He took two steps to her, pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Thank you. For all this. For being there.”
Beckett set the food Samara had ordered out on the coffee table—Indian and Italian—and then took the garment bag into her bedroom to change. He noted the price tags on the suit and lounge pants, fully planning on repaying her the cost. Beckett changed into the lounge pants and paused to take in Samara’s bedroom.
He’d expected more of the same from her living room—cozy comfort. But it was downright girly. No less than a dozen throw pillows were artfully scattered across her bed, in gold and red and orange. The bedspread itself was red with a floral border. The gauzy gold curtains let in the early evening light, and the two prints on either side of the window were close-up photos of flowers that reminded him of that painter he’d studied in school. The overall effect was busy, but welcoming. A little sanctuary for Samara alone.
And anyone she’s been serious with over the years.
He shut that thought down. Samara hadn’t been a saint any more than he had. If she’d had a recent serious boyfriend, there was no evidence of the man in this room. Even if there had been…Beckett was here, not some ex of hers.
You’re focusing on something that doesn’t matter instead of the hulking elephant in the room.
Beckett sat on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Seeing Samara trying to salvage the ruined baby book…He hadn’t expected it of her. He’d taken the damn book only because he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving it in his ruined condo for another moment. He’d called her because being alone was the worst thing he could contemplate while he dealt with the emotional fallout. Knowing someone had broken into his apartment—his safe space—and methodically destroyed anything and everything he valued.
The door opened and he looked up to find Samara standing there.
Not everything I value was destroyed.
But it could be.
She gave a half smile. “You should eat something.”
Taking care of him, even when he didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t let it go without telling her the truth he’d been avoiding for half the week. “I took the contract.”
Samara blinked. “What?”
“The contract—the one you’ve been working your ass off to put in a bid for. I pulled strings behind your back and took the contract before the date to give the proposal.” It was selfish, his need to get this out, to drive her away now before she kept piling kind act upon kind act onto him. Before he found a reason never to tell her so that he could keep this thing going between them longer.
Samara leaned against the door frame and considered him. She wore a simple black dress that did nothing to downplay her curves. Sometime after he’d arrived, she’d pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, and it struck him that this was what Samara Mallick looked like without her many walls in place. Relaxed and a little rumpled and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her.
Look your fill now. This ends soon.
She finally sighed. “Okay.”
“What?”
“Okay. It’s a dick move, sure. But I get it. It’s business. And given that Morningstar already had that contract so long, it doesn’t surprise me you were able to bend the rules. I would have done the same thing in your position.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It was still shitty, though.”
“I’m sorry that it was you I was up against, but I’m not sorry I did it.” Losing out on that bid would hurt Lydia. Not enough and not for long, but it allowed him to retaliate in some way.
She threw up her hands. “Beckett, you’ve been systematically attacked multiple times in the last week and those attacks show no sign of slowing down or de-escalating. Right now, the bid is the last thing I’m worried about.” She hesitated. “But you should still call Journey and tell her not to spend the next twenty-four hours cramming for it.”
He could barely believe what he was hearing. “You spent a lot of time putting together that proposal.”
“Yes, I did. And I’m mad at you for pulling such an underhanded move, but I also know how to prioritize. Your safety—physical or otherwise—is more important than either Morningstar Enterprise or Kingdom Corp.” She crossed to him and crouched in front of him, putting their faces closer to level. “My job is important to me—really important to me—but losing that bid won’t change my life overmuch. What you’re dealing with will.” She gave him another of those sweet little smiles that he’d started to crave. “But the next time we go head to head, I’m going to kick your ass if you pull a stunt like this…if I don’t pull it first.”
He gave a faint smile. “Deal.”
She took his hand and rose, tugging him to his feet as she did. “You need to at least try to eat. I have my own bombshell to drop.”
It wasn’t until they were seated next
