Beckett bit into the burrito, and his eyes widened. “This is amazing.”
I could barely make out his words around his full mouth. “Don’t choke.”
He finished chewing and took a sip of orange juice. “Seriously. That is incredible.”
“There’s guacamole and sour cream if you want it.” I gestured to two small bowls in the center of the table.
“What time did you get up? This had to have taken hours.”
“I think it was a little after five. The sun is bright with all the windows.”
Concern flitted across Beckett’s expression. “Did you sleep okay?”
“The best I have in years. What about you?”
He grinned. “Same. Those couches must be magic.”
I didn’t think it had anything to do with the furniture. It was all about knowing that someone who cared about me was just feet away. It allowed me to relax in a way I hadn’t been able to in so long. A little of the warmth of the moment slipped away when I realized that Beckett probably hadn’t dealt with the same. He’d likely had plenty of relationships, women keeping his bed and body warm. The thought soured my stomach.
“What’s wrong?”
I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee. “Nothing.”
“I thought we had a deal about half-truths?”
I set my mug down, tracing a nonsensical shape on the side. “I just realized there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
His brow lifted. “Like?”
I wasn’t even sure how to ask what I wanted to know. “Like if you left someone you cared about behind in Venezuela.”
Beckett stilled, all earlier hints of humor fleeing.
I hurried to fill the silence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”
“Addie,” he cut in, “we’re friends. You can ask me whatever you want. And, no, I didn’t leave anyone behind when I came home. My job didn’t leave a whole lot of time for relationships. Casual dates here and there, but there honestly hasn’t been anyone serious.”
Something that had been knotted deep inside me loosened at his words. “Oh.”
His mouth curved, but something about the movement seemed forced. “Women aren’t lining up for someone who has to leave at all hours, constantly cancels plans, and whose head is usually somewhere else half the time.”
“Then they’re idiots.”
Beckett let out a chuckle. “Idiots, huh?”
“You care about your job. You want to make sure you’re doing it the best you can. That makes you honorable.”
Beckett’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I try. I don’t always get it right.”
“Who does?”
“You might have a point there.” He dished some guacamole onto his plate. “What about you? Was there ever…?”
Heat hit my cheeks. “There was someone. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“My dad needed some electrical work done on our barn that he couldn’t do himself. The electrician had a son who helped him.”