Trusting His Promise (Love on Sanctuary Shores #5)

Chapter 29

“How was dinner?” Lisa grinned wildly, just as she had all three hundred times she’d come by to check on them tonight.

Jo glared at her friend, but Beckett returned Lisa’s grin. “Everything was perfect.” He passed Lisa a credit card before she even set down the bill, and Jo gritted her teeth.

Everything was not perfect.

Yes, the carriage ride had been beautiful, and yes, dinner had been delicious, but the only thing Jo could think through all of it was, Beckett is leaving .

She was supposed to be happy about that. Relieved. Ecstatic.

So why was she so . . . deflated?

For Sam , she told herself. She never should have let her daughter get so close to him, never should have let him work his way into their lives.

She should have stuck with her plan of avoiding him until he left the island. And yet, she couldn’t quite convince herself to regret the time they’d spent together.

Lisa returned with Beckett’s credit card. “Where are you all off to now?”

“Home,” Jo said firmly. “Sam needs to get to bed.” She pushed her chair back and Sam and Beckett did the same.

They started toward the door, but Lisa grabbed Jo’s arm, tugging her back. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she whispered.

Jo swiveled to her friend in shock. “You know I wouldn’t.” How could her friend even think—

“That’s not what I mean.” Lisa frowned. “I mean, don’t push him away.”

“Oh.” Jo bit her lip.

“I mean it,” Lisa warned.

Jo shook her head. Pushing him away was her only option.

She slipped out of her friend’s grasp and caught up with Sam and Beckett at the door.

“I’ll walk you home,” Beckett said quietly.

Jo shook her head, though she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“It’s cold out here.” Sam shivered.

Before Jo could respond, Beckett was pulling his sweatshirt off and slipping it over Sam’s head.

Sam giggled as the shirt fell almost to her feet. “It’s a dress.”

Jo swallowed hard. Giving his shirt to her on the boat had been one thing. But how was she supposed to resist a man who gave the shirt off his back to her daughter?

Sam lifted her arms, and Beckett rolled up one sleeve, while Jo did the other. Then Sam slid a hand into each of theirs, and they started for home, Sam striking up a lively conversation with Beckett about more trunk-or-treat ideas.

When they reached the house, Jo practically lunged for the door. “Thanks for walking us home. See you . . .”

When?

The longer until they saw him again, the better, she supposed—though her heart struck up a rough protest.

“Can Mr. Beckett help tuck me in?” Sam asked before Jo could step inside.

“I’m sure Mr. Beckett has to get going.” Jo gave him a look to say he was supposed to agree with her.

“Nope.” Beckett grinned as if he knew exactly what she’d wanted—and was happy to contradict it. “I don’t have anywhere else I need to be except right here.”

“Goodie.” Sam darted past Jo into the house. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Jo blew out a breath. It would only take a few minutes to tuck Sam in, and then she could escort Beckett out.

She heard voices in the kitchen and led Beckett in that direction so she wouldn’t be alone with him. Because if she was alone with him, she might do something crazy—like kiss him again.

Dad and Karen were seated at the table, cards spread in front of them.

“Hey.” Dad greeted them both with an equally warm smile. “You guys want to join us for a game of Euchre? Two-handed is getting a bit old.”

“You’re just tired of losing,” Karen teased—but Jo didn’t miss the way her hand brushed Dad’s as she collected his cards.

“We’re just about to tuck Sam in,” Jo answered quickly.

“But as soon as we’re done with that, we’ll play,” Beckett filled in, as if he were finishing her sentence. She shot him a look that said that was absolutely not what she’d been about to say.

His only response was another grin.

“I’m ready.” Sam popped back into the room and ran around the table. “Goodnight, Opa.”

“Goodnight, little one. Did you have a fun day?”

“The best. We climbed the lighthouse.” Her eyes widened dramatically.

Dad gave Jo a searching look. “All of you?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, even Mommy. She was scared at the top, so Mr. Beckett held her hand. But I wasn’t scared. I liked it.”

“Okay, chatterbox, time for bed.” Jo’s face felt like it was burning brighter than any lighthouse lamp ever had, and she tried to ignore Dad’s and Karen’s chuckles as she led Sam out of the kitchen, Beckett’s footsteps right on their heels.

In Sam’s room, Jo tucked her daughter into bed. “Which stuffed animal tonight?” she asked, moving to the bin in the corner that was filled with the stuffed animals Sam rotated through on a nightly basis.

“Um . . .” Sam tapped her chin. “Let me see.”

“No stalling,” Jo warned.

“I’m not stalling, I’m thinking,” Sam insisted. “Mr. Beckett can pick one for me.”

“Me?” Beckett pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Sam nodded. “I trust you.”

Beckett moved to Jo’s side, standing close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence. “Hmm. This is a big responsibility.”

“No stalling,” Jo warned him too.

“I’m not stalling.” Beckett sounded just like Sam. “I’m thinking.” He reached for the bin.

“How about this one?” He held up an orange cat.

“Mr. Fluffers?” Sam shook her head. “He gets too playful, and I can’t sleep.”

Beckett made a sound that Jo could tell was a suppressed laugh. “Right. We can’t have that. How about this guy?” He reached for a panda.

“Ohhh. Bambi is my favorite. But no. I slept with him last night.”

“Bambi?” Beckett looked at the panda again, then raised an eyebrow at Jo.

“Short for Bamboo,” Jo explained.

Beckett’s chuckle drew her closer.

“Pick the goat,” she whispered, pointing to the back of the bin.

“Really?” Beckett leaned closer to whisper back, his breath wisping over her cheek. “That’s a goat?”

Jo laughed out loud, and he smiled as if he’d won a great prize. Then he reached for the bedraggled goat that looked more like a hyena.

“Chewy, yes!” Sam cheered.

Beckett tossed the animal to her, and she hugged it close.

“Should we say your prayers?” Jo moved to the side of the bed, and Beckett followed.

“Yes.” Sam held out her hand, and Jo took it, the way she did every night.

Then Sam held out a hand to Beckett. He took it.

Sam looked between the two of them, then sighed as if she shouldn’t have to explain it. “You two have to hold hands too.”

“Oh, we don’t—” Jo started, but Beckett’s fingers were already threading through hers.

“I go first,” Sam said. “Then Mommy, then Mr. Beckett.”

“Sam, Mr. Beckett doesn’t have to—”

“I want to,” Beckett cut Jo off.

“Okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes and bowing her head. “Go ahead, Sammycakes.”

“Dear Jesus,” Sam started. “Thank you for a wonderful day. And thank you that I had so much fun with my mom and Mr. Beckett. And thank you that they had so much fun together too.”

Beckett’s hand tightened around Jo’s, and her heart bounced up and down like a bobber on a wave.

“And thank you that Mr. Beckett is going to come back and visit us after he’s done with his movie,” Sam continued. “Maybe he’ll want to live here again someday, God, don’t you think? Amen. Your turn, Mommy.”

Jo swallowed painfully, her palm suddenly slick against Beckett’s. She had to put an end to this before her daughter got hurt.

“Dear Lord,” she began, hoping her voice didn’t sound as scratchy as it felt. “Thank you for a beautiful day. Please give us wisdom to do the right things, even when they are hard.” She opened her eyes a crack to peek at Beckett. He wore a slight frown, and she wondered if he understood what she was saying. But he didn’t open his eyes.

She licked her lips, trying to figure out what else to say. When she couldn’t think of anything, she ended with, “In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

“God,” Beckett’s voice took up right where hers left off, strong and sure where hers had been weak and uncertain. “You know all things. You know the plans you have for us and for our future.”

Jo swallowed, telling herself that when he said our future , he was being generic, not referring to his future with them. Because he had no future with them.

“Help us not to be afraid of those plans. Lead us to surrender ourselves completely to you and to your will for us. Even if it takes us places we never thought we would go.” There was a pause, and in the silence, Jo heard his swallow. Then, voice gravelly, he continued. “Whatever comes next, Lord, thank you for bringing me here. To these two ladies who have filled my life with joy today. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Jo attempted to whisper Amen , but nothing came out. She opened her eyes and let go of Sam’s hand and tried to slide her hand out of Beckett’s.

But he tightened his grip for a moment before releasing her.

“Goodnight, Sammycakes.” Jo leaned forward to pull up her daughter’s blankets and hug her. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Mommy. I love you too.”

Jo stepped back, almost crashing into Beckett. He hovered as if unsure what to do.

“Can I hug you too, Mr. Beckett?” Sam asked.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Beckett grinned, but his voice was still scratchy. He stepped past Jo and bent over Sam.

“Goodnight, Mr. Beckett.” Sam wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I love you.”

Jo sucked in a breath. Hugging Beckett she had expected. But telling Beckett she loved him? As far as Jo knew, Sam had never said that to anyone besides herself and Dad. Not even to Grandma Gail.

Don’t say it back to her , Jo silently pleaded with Beckett. If he said it back to her, she would only be even more crushed when he left.

“I love you too.” Beckett’s voice sounded choked. “You’re a very special little girl, did you know that?”

“Yep.” Sam flopped back on her bed as Beckett let go of his hold on her. “My mom tells me all the time.”

“Good.” Beckett cleared his throat and smoothed her hair. “Goodnight.”

He turned toward Jo, and she sped out of the room ahead of him, not even stopping to turn out the light or close the door before she fled down the stairs.

At the bottom, she paused. She was trapped. Dad and Karen were in the kitchen. Beckett was on the stairs. And all she needed was a place to escape them all.

She turned to the front door, considering, but a hand fell on her arm.

“Jo, I’m sorry.” Beckett’s voice was much too close to her ear, his grip much too warm on her arm, his nearness much too enticing to her heart.

She swallowed, a shudder going through her.

His voice was low and much too comforting. “I shouldn’t have said that to her. She’s just a very lovable girl, and it’s been so long since anyone has said—” He broke off. “But I can see why it would upset you.” He let go of her arm and took a step backwards. “I’m really sorry.”

Jo nodded stiffly. She could tell his apology was sincere. “I don’t want her to get hurt when you leave.”

“Neither do I,” Beckett said quietly. “And I want you to know—”

“Are you two going to stand out there yakking all night or get your behinds in here and play some cards?” Dad called.

Jo let out a shaky breath, and Beckett laughed quietly.

“We’ll talk more later?” he asked.

Jo didn’t answer as they made their way to the kitchen. There wasn’t really anything to talk about. It didn’t matter if Sam loved him or if he loved Sam or if Jo—well, Jo didn’t love him so that wasn’t an issue. What mattered was that he was leaving. And she had to keep her daughter from getting hurt when he did.

Dad was already dealing the cards, and Jo took a seat across from Beckett, trying without success to keep her eyes and her thoughts off of him. By the end of the night, she was exhausted from the effort.

“How are you getting home?” Karen asked as Beckett stood to leave.

“I was planning on walking,” he answered easily.

“This late?” Karen frowned, and Jo realized suddenly how motherly she seemed.

Beckett seemed to see it too. “I’ll be okay,” he reassured her.

“Of course you will,” Dad said gruffly. “Because Jo is going to give you a ride home.”

“Dad.” Jo whirled on her father, who sat calmly in his seat—only the twinkle in his eyes giving away that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“That would be great,” Beckett jumped in, the same twinkle in his eyes. “I’m beat from all that biking today.”

“I— But—” Jo gave up. “Let me grab the keys.”

She stalked to the desk drawer where they kept them, yanking it out roughly to let everyone know she wasn’t happy with this turn of events.

Then she grabbed a jacket and followed Beckett out the front door. They turned silently toward the parking area, and Jo found herself eyeing him from under her lashes.

His hands were in his pockets, and the jovial mood he’d worn throughout the card game seemed to have fallen away, leaving him looking serious and subdued.

Jo’s heart dropped. Was he regretting agreeing to let her drive him home? Regretting the day he’d spent with her and Sam? Regretting the kiss they’d shared last night?

You fool , she scolded herself. You want him to regret those things.

Or, at least, she should want him to regret them.

When they reached her car, he wordlessly opened the driver’s door for her, then circled to the passenger side. Jo turned on the vehicle and cranked up the heat against the chill that hung in the air.

She glanced at Beckett a few times, but he remained silent, watching the lake out the window.

It was disconcerting, compared to his usual talkativeness.

The drive only took a few minutes, but when Jo pulled into Beckett’s driveway, parking behind the two big vans, Beckett didn’t move.

“Is everything okay?” she asked quietly.

A shiver went through Beckett, as if he was shaking himself back to the present. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking . . . I like spending time with your family. It makes me wonder . . .”

“Wonder what?” she whispered, though she told herself not to ask.

“If maybe there really is such a thing as a happy family, after all.” His eyes met hers, and even in the dark, she could see the pain of his lonely childhood.

“Of course there is.” As much as she knew she shouldn’t, she rested her hands on his.

Beckett looked down at their hands for a moment. “I’m glad,” he said, looking up. “I’m glad you have that kind of family. And I’m glad that we’re friends now.”

Jo’s heart slid down into her stomach at the word friends . But she told it to get right back up into its place. Friends was exactly what they were. All they would ever be.

Beckett sucked in an audible breath, flipping his hands over and twining his fingers through hers. “But I was hoping that maybe we could be more than friends .”

“Oh.” Jo could barely get the simple syllable out.

“Is that an oh, yes ? Or an oh, no ?” he asked, sounding adorably uncertain.

“It’s—” Jo licked her lips. “I don’t know.”

Beckett let out a breath. “I can work with I don’t know .” He gazed out the window, then turned back to her, looking earnest. “I love spending time with you, Jo. And when I’m not spending time with you, all I can think about is the next time I’ll see you. And Sam,” he added, and that just about did Jo in.

But she had to remain strong. “Beckett, I—”

“Let me take you on a date, at least,” Beckett rushed in.

“I don’t think—” she tried again.

He folded both of her hands into his and lifted them to his heart. “Pretty please with a Sammycake on top?”

Jo laughed. That phrase he’d picked up from her daughter.

She could never resist it when Sam used it either.

“Okay,” she whispered so softly that she hoped he wouldn’t hear it.

“Yes?” Beckett lifted both of her hands into the air, as if she were a prize fighter, stopping just shy of hitting them on the car roof. “Really?”

“Are you trying to make me change my mind?”

Beckett chuckled, the sound filling the whole car with warmth. He kissed her knuckles, then let go of her hands and opened the car door. “Goodnight.”

Jo considered taking it all back—calling after him that she’d changed her mind. But she liked that smile on his face—and knowing that she was the one who had put it there.