Page 29 of Hopeless Romantic
“Let me look at my calendar and see when I’m free.” Instead of her appointment book, she consulted the countdown clock above the bar. “Sorry, it looks like I’m booked for the next sixty-one days, twelve hours, fifty-one minutes, and eleven seconds. Give or take.”
Putting her next opening at the exact moment Levi was to set sail on his trip down the coast. “I’m touched. Is that your way of asking to be my skipper, Beck?”
“No.” She did that cute squirming-in-her-seat number that gave away her nervousness. “That’s my way of saying I will never, ever,evervisit your cabin, see your cabin, or inquire about your cabin. Amazing new paint job or not.”
“Sure a lot of never-evers for someone who isn’t interested in the goings-on inside my cabin.” Elbows on the table, he leaned in and lowered his voice. “And amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“Don’t you have a bar bunny to charm?”
“Free for the moment.”
She snatched the bottle from his hand. “Well, you’re in Annie’s seat.”
“She can’t make it. She pulled a double at work.”
“What?” She gasped.
“Yeah, Gray left a few minutes ago with dinner and my most expensive bottle of wine, neither of which he paid for. It’s part of his big plan, which requires pampering your friend for the remainder of the evening.” He slid the note across the table. “He said to give you this.”
“Oh no,” she breathed, backing away as if the note were made of radioactive paper. If he thought she’d looked stressed before, then she was in a sheer state of panic now. “I haven’t slept since Annie gave me her note. I’m not sure I can handle one from Emmitt.”
That shed some light on the zombielike state Beckett had adopted over the past week. Every time he spotted her around town, she appeared to be sleepwalking.
Oh, she hadn’t slowed her pace any. Beckett still went about her business as if mainlining a cocktail of caffeine and jet fuel, much like an F-5 tornado, stirring up chaos and taking out everything in her path. Watching her tackle a problem was a sight to behold, as impressive as it was sexy. But the ferocity that usually crackled and sparked with her every step was missing.
Levi would bet she couldn’t even tackle a dandelion in her current state, let alone whatever was in that note.
“Maybe I can help,” he offered, reaching for the paper. Beckett snatched it right out of his fingers. “Whoa, I was just offering to read it for you.”
“My note. My problem. No help needed.” Her voice was tight. She spun the note around and around between her fingers, never once attempting to unfold it. “I’m sure it’s another list.”
“I slayed your last list.”
Some of the tension disappeared as a small grin tugged at her lips. “It was sweet of you, and I’ll admit, without your help I likely would have gone home frustrated and empty-handed. But ‘slayed’ is a bit boastful, don’t you think?”
“Lady, while I was in that grocery store, I asked my second-grade teacher what kind of tampons she used. If that isn’t slaying some kind of dragon, I don’t know what is.” She didn’t look convinced, but she also wasn’t asking him to leave. “I’m a great problem solver and know all Emmitt’s plays. Maybe I can help.”
She considered this for a long moment, then said, “How good are you at the ‘whole walk down the aisle and say I Do’ thing?”
“You proposing, Beck?”
She snorted as if that were the most ridiculous idea in the history of humankind. And strangely enough, the dismissal stung a little. Especially coming from a woman who dated guys like Snore-fest Steve and Boring Bruce.
“I’ll have you know that I am prime, grade-A husband material.” Not that he was looking to put a ring on it anytime in the near, or distant, future. “I’m good with a hammer, great with problem solving, and even better at listening. We’ve already talked about my cabin-activity skills, I know my way around the kitchen, and am extremely business-savvy. I never leave the toilet seat up and can handle everything from diapers to teen drama when it comes to kids.”
“Are you going to give me references next?”
“That might be a little tricky on the cabin-activity side. I’m not one to decorate and tell,” he said, and she was back to looking stressed. “I can always say I forgot to give it to you.”
She shook her head, then met his gaze. “Annie’s really not coming?”
“Afraid not. Gray said she’s helping Paisley with a filing project.”
Beckett took a swig of her beer, nearly draining the bottle, then closed her eyes. “I’m pretty sure this is his addition to the Must Haves list for their wedding. They set a date.”
“I heard.”
She opened her eyes and—talk about slaying—those warm brown pools could make a man do stupid things. Stupid, dangerous things . . . like make a happily single guy consider how much happier he’d be with more Beckett in his life. Even though he was counting down until he could finally set sail, and she was anchored in Rome.
