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He shook his head. “No, my grandparents told her everything would be okay. She took a job at my grandfather’s oil company and worked there right up until she was diagnosed with cancer.”
I took his hand in mine. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”
He simply gave me a half smile.
“I just realized we haven’t introduced ourselves.”
He burst into a nervous bubble of laughter. “Christ, I cannot believe I just told a stranger all of that.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “I guess I’m drunk.”
“No. Maybe if you have another drink, you will be.”
He turned and met my gaze, and for a crazy half-second, I wanted to kiss him. Those blue eyes of his seemed so damn lost.
Swallowing hard, he softly said, “I haven’t told anyone since I found the box of letters six months ago.”
“Six months! You’ve kept this to yourself for that long? Why?”
“My grandfather wasn’t very happy with me when he found out I was going to Montana to search out my deceased father’s family. It’s been an argument between us for a while now. He doesn’t understand why I want to meet them. Even I don’t actually know why I’m going to Montana, if I’m being honest. A part of me thinks my mother wanted me to.”
“You’re curious, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Do they know you’re coming?”
A look of embarrassment crossed his face. “No. No. I haven’t really figured that part out. I mean, how do you walk up to someone’s door and say, ‘Hi there, I’m your dead son’s kid he never knew about’?” He looked back at me and shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m so sorry. The last thing you probably wanted is to hear my sob story.”
“Are you kidding? I’m enthralled and feel like I’m totally invested now.”
He laughed, and I realized I liked the sound of it. Reaching out my hand, I said, “I’m Avery Littlewood.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Avery. I’m Beck Dahlstrom.”
My eyes went wide as I instantly focused on that intense blue gaze…
Blue eyes I’d seen my entire life growing up were staring back at me.
His words from earlier came rushing back. “It turned out she named me after him, much to my grandfather’s disliking.”
“So, does your father’s family live in Missoula?” I asked lightly, although I had an inkling of where this story was going and already knew the answer.
“No,” he said. “They live in a little town south of there called Hamilton. They own a ranch…the Shaw Cattle Ranch.”
It was my turn to grab the armrests.
Holy shit! This is Uncle Beck’s son—that no one knows anything about!
Well, he wasn’t technically my uncle, and I wasn’t in any way related to Beck Dahlstrom. For which a part of me was very thankful, because for the last several minutes I’d been having lustful thoughts about him.
When I didn’t say anything, he narrowed his eyes slightly and studied me. “Have you heard of it before?”
I swallowed and somehow found my voice. “I live in Hamilton, Montana.”
His eyes went wide. “You’re kidding me. You do? Do you know the Shaw family?”
“I, um…I do. I know them quite well, as a matter of fact. Where are you staying?”
Frowning, he replied, “Bitterroot Inn. Why?”
With a smile that I prayed wasn’t showing I was freaking out inside, I asked, “Would you like to come to family dinner with me tonight?”
Beck’s brows shot up. “I’m sorry?” He laughed and shook his head. “I know I’ve had a lot to drink, but did you just invite me to have dinner at your family’s home?”
I nodded. “I did. I think we can help you with meeting the Shaw family.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
Smiling, I replied, “Of course I would.”
He smiled, and his dimple appeared. If I had been standing, I’m pretty sure my knees would be wobbling.
“Why would you help me like this, Avery?”
I chewed on my lower lip. How much should I tell him? “I’m really good friends…like seriously close friends with the Shaws. I don’t think you should just show up on their doorstep and declare you’re a long-lost grandson.”
“Yeah, I haven’t really thought that far ahead. Just getting to Montana was the first step.”
Taking his hand in mine, I gave it a light squeeze. “Then let me help you.”
With a slight nod, he agreed. “I guess it was fate that your trip was diverted to Dallas then.”
It was my turn to smile. “Or destiny.”
His eyes swept over my face and went to my mouth, where it lingered a bit longer than it should have. He cleared his throat and looked away. “So, how old are you, Avery?”
“I’m eighteen. What about you?”
“I’m, um…I’m twenty-seven.”
Damn. He was nine years older than me.
“You mentioned you worked for your grandfather. What is it hat you do?”
“I have a degree in petroleum engineering, so I’m the one who finds the oil or gas and then is responsible for extracting it in the safest, most cost-effective way.”
