Page 9 of Flare

His gaze locked on mine, and for a second, I almost couldn’t breathe, enthralled by a pair of the most beautiful bright hazel eyes, eyes I’d somehow missed in the heat of our initial exchange. Sparkling pools of gold and green and just fucking, wow.

“Hello, Rhys, I’m Beckett North. Beck. Jack’s uncle. Can we start again?” He offered his hand, but I was so caught up in his gaze that I almost let it hang before finally coming to my senses.

His grip was warm and firm and reeked with apology. He was also a lot younger than I’d first thought. Late thirties, early forties at the most. And as we shook, his gaze travelled my face, lingering on my mouth just long enough to set my antenna waving. An inconvenient curl of interest rose in my belly that I immediately kicked to the kerb, as much from surprise as anything else.

Look at that. I wasn’t dead after all.

The long hair, scruffy beard, and pedestrian clothes drew attention away from a wealth of attractive features that simmered just beneath. No cut cheekbones or cover-model beauty, but an epic body, warm inviting smile, strong jawline, full lips, and beautiful, haunting eyes.

I tried not to stare but that horse bolted before I’d even got past his eyes, and it wasn’t until his gaze sharpened and his fingers drifted almost reflexively to his mouth did I notice a few telltale white hairs over a scar that ran vertically from his nose to the bow of his lips. I frowned, simply surprised I’d missed it, but then realised what that must’ve looked like and jerked my gaze back up. Too late. His cool expression said it all, and I could’ve kicked myself.

“Can I talk to him?”

Carla led Beck into my office, and Kip and I hung around the door.

“What the hell, Jack?” Beck’s tone was softer than I expected—disappointed more than angry. His thick muscled body took up a lot of room in my office and I found myself automatically checking him out before mentally slapping myself. Still, I’d always loved big, broody men, not that I ever allowed myself to indulge. And nothing about that had changed.

Beck reached for Jack’s hand and pulled him into his huge arms. “Goddammit. What got into you?” His voice broke a little.

With his face squashed sideways against Beck’s ample chest, Jack’s eyes welled, and I watched as the last of that bravado melted away. My ridiculous heart squeezed, and with it went any reservations I might’ve had. Jack was no hardened shoplifter, but the wrong move could possibly push him that direction.

“You told me you were heading straight home.” Beck’s voice wavered again as he kept a tight hold, and slowly Jack’s arms slid around his uncle’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said in a small voice. “It was stupid.”

Kip looked my way like he could read my mind, but even his eyes were a little glassy.

Beck held on a moment longer before letting Jack go. “Damn right it was, and we’re going to talk about just how stupid it was in great detail later. And there’ll be consequences. You understand that, right?”

Jack sniffed and nodded.

Beck turned to me. “I apologise for my nephew’s behaviour.” He barely met my eyes. “It won’t happen again. Will it, Jack?”

Jack dropped his finger from his mouth where he’d been chewing on a nail. “No.” Beck elbowed his nephew who then added, “I’m sorry.”

“The officer mentioned you might consider not pressing charges in exchange for some kind of work arrangement?” Beck’s gaze narrowed. “Not sure what Jack could do around here.” He stared through the glass into the store and frowned. “It’s pretty fancy.”

I looked to Jack who was busy staring at the floor. “Jack, how does that sound?”

His gaze shot up and I saw a spark of something like hope for the first time in those blue eyes. “What would I have to do?”

“Help out after school on weekdays for maybe a month?” I checked with Kip.

“Six weeks,” Kip said firmly and shrugged at my frown. “We could do with the help, right? And it was eight hundred dollars. Plus, he called me a fag.”

Beck drew a sharp breath. “Jesus, Jack.” He ran a hand over his face.

Jack flushed bright red and looked ready to crawl under my desk. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Hey.” Beck laid his hands on Jack’s shoulders. “You don’t get to brush that aside like it means nothing. Youknowhow I feel about that language.” He threw Kip an apologetic look before focusing back on his nephew. “What in the hell has gotten into you?”

Jack shrugged but said nothing.

Beck blinked slowly and sighed. “We’ll be talking more about this. Now, apologise.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t even raise his head.

“Not good enough.” Beck tipped Jack’s chin up, forcing the boy to look at him. “Would you call me that?”

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