Maid For Beckett Catching The Baseball Legend’s Heart novel Chapter 177

Chapter 177

Chapter 177

-Andi-

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The next day. Beckett and I woke up early to fly back to Hawthorne Bay. This time, boarding their private plane felt less intimidating than the first time. The nerves were still there, but tolerable–maybe only 80 percent fear to 20 percent excitement now.

I slept through the flight because, as I expected, I wasn’t able to get any sleep last night. Beckett didn’t wake me up until the plane had already landed.

The drive through the city was almost anticlimactic. The familiar streets, shops, and people–I never thought I’d say this, but I missed this city.

Growing up, I had vowed that I would leave this damn place, where I had all of my dark days as a kid. If anyone had asked me back then why I would want to leave such a beautiful and peaceful town, I would have given them three books about it. Now, I see things from a different perspective. This is my home and the thought of not coming back here pinches my chest.

Beckett was in the driver’s seat, deep in his thoughts. Is he thinking about his wedding proposal this weekend? If he is, I don’t wanna open up a conversation where I still don’t know where my head is. With that in mind, I settled for watching the city fade into a blur, but when we passed by the crossing to my house. I turned to Beckett.

“You missed the turn,” I said. Though my voice was soft, it sounded deafening against the silence that had taken over the car.

“Is it okay if I take you somewhere first?” he asked without looking at me. He doesn’t sound mad or distant, just a little clipped, as though he’s trying to solve a puzzle and he doesn’t wanna be disturbed.

“Okay,” I murmured and settled on staring at the window again. And that’s how I fell asleep on the passenger side. The next time I woke up, my neck was strained, and my mouth was dry. I awned, stretching my hands and legs as far as I could as I rubbed the sleep away from my eyes.

We were now on an unfamiliar path. Tees blurring past the window, and the air now was thick with the scent of salt and pine.

“Where… where are we?” I had to lick my lips because I probably slept with my mouth hanging open. Not really a complimenting sight for my new fiancé, but that’s what it is. He needs to see me at my worst, right?

“We’re a few minutes out. I wanted to show you something,” he said.

I hummed and didn’t ask a question. Despite this tension between us, I wouldn’t mind spending time with Beckett. My mind has been surprisingly calm around him since last night.

I realized where he was taking me when he pulled into the long, gravel driveway of the Maldini estate. My heart started pounding so hard it almost hurt. The house looked even bigger than I remembered–rising up from the well–manicured gardens, all glass and stone, screaming old money. The first time I’d come here, it was for Nana Lucy’s birthday, and I’d been nothing more than Beckett’s maid, forced to meet his Nana. Now I was his fiancée. The word weighed heavily in my chest, making me question whether I was making the right decision here.

It wasn’t Beckett who made me feel like an outsider. That was all me. Doubts are creeping in, trying to sabotage the senile happiness I’d found.

But Beckett didn’t take me to the main house. Instead, he parked in front of the wide lawn of green grass lined with hedges and flowering plants.

He helped me out of the car, took my hand, and led me down the path toward the glass house.

The last time I’d been here, it was nighttime; I was too anxious about meeting Nana Lucy to notice anything else. Now, I could see everything–the old couch where I’d perched awkwardly, the sleek minibar where Cole had poured me a drink The space was the same, but the tension was heavier this time. Is not coming from me, but from my fiance.

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11 32 Sun, Apr 26 M m

Chapter 177

༥ ཛཱ96%.

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Beckett motioned for me to sit on the couch. He knelt by the coffee table, sliding open a drawer, and pulled out a stack of photo albums. He flipped through them, handing me pages of his childhood–Beckett with a gap–toothed grin and a mop of sandy hair as he posed beside a battered soccer ball, or grinning up at the camera with his arm slung around a golden retriever. Even then, he was beautiful, and his love for dogs only added to his allure.

He hesitated before the next album. When he opened it, the photos changed–Beckett cradling a hunting rifle, Beckett with a knife strapped to his belt, Beckett with his fists raised. I looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You were a black belt in kickboxing?”

He shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. For the first time since we arrived, he looked less like the confident man I knew and more like that awkward boy in the photos. As if he’d rather talk about boring topics like the weather than talk about these pictures.

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