He had looked closely enough to notice that her breasts had become fuller with pregnancy.
Not that he had anything to compare them to. He hadn’t looked at her breasts before. He’d simply...noticed they were there. She was an attractive woman, and, since he was attracted to attractive women, he’d noticed. And now he noticed that her breasts were fuller. It was all scientific. There was nothing more to it.
He noticed the style of her dress was somehow both highlighting her pregnancy and hiding it. Or did he only think that now because he knew she was pregnant? She wasn’t showing apart from the fuller breasts and the slightest curve of her stomach. The dress flattered her body shape, which even before pregnancy had been a glorious mixture of full curves and lean muscle.
She’d always dressed for her body. Sometimes in dresses that made her look demure and saintly; other times in skirts and shirts that made him think she wanted to torment every person in the room around her. Though this dress seemed to fit with her general style—flattering, understated, seductive—at the same time it somehow didn’t. It was warmer, softer, though he’d bite his own tongue off before admitting it.
‘Are you going to say hello or keep staring?’
He instantly blinked, as if his body was trying to tell her he wasn’t staring. But that was undermined by the blush he could feel heating his face. It got hotter when he realised he hadn’t looked at her face since she opened the door. If he had, he wouldn’t have spent such a long time contemplating her dress or her style, but trying to get his breath back.
She’d left her hair loose. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it that way before. It was long, wavy, flowing past her shoulders and stopping halfway to her elbows. She’d parted it so that most of the thick locks had settled on the right side of her face. The rich brown of it bled into the lighter brown of her skin, as if folding dark chocolate into milk chocolate for a deliciously sinful dessert. Just at the beginning stages, before they mixed and created a brown that was more like his own skin tone.
Her lips were painted the same colour as her dress, her checks dusted with some of that colour, too. Her eyes, which were watching him speculatively, were somehow more pronounced, more emotive than usual. He guessed that also had something to do with make-up.
‘Keep staring, then,’ she answered for him. ‘Okay.’ She reached behind the door to somewhere he couldn’t see, bringing a coat back, which she handed to him. ‘Could you at least make yourself useful, please?’
He took the coat without a word, stepping back when she closed the door behind her. Then she looked at him.
‘Honestly, Benjamin, this is an overreaction, surely.’
‘No.’
‘No, it’s not an overreaction?’ she asked. He nodded. ‘You’ve seen me dressed up before. Mixers at the Institute. Graduation. Ours and Cherise’s.’
‘Not like this.’
‘This is because I’m pregnant and I didn’t feel good in anything else.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘I know it’s probably more formal than tonight required. It’s just... The shop assistant told me it suited me.’ She lifted a shoulder, though it wasn’t as careless as he was sure she intended. It was defensive. ‘I thought the dress deserved more effort from other parts of me.’
‘Your hair’s loose.’
‘It has been before.’
‘I’ve never seen it loose before.’
She frowned. ‘Well, it’s not my preference.’
‘I know. That’s wearing your hair in a bun.’
‘I... Yes.’
She lifted a hand, tucked some hair behind her ear.
‘A ponytail would probably be your next option.’
Her lips parted.
‘Either on top of your head, when you’re working, or at your nape, when you’re dressing up.’ He had no idea why he was doing this. It felt as if he was seducing her. But surely seduction couldn’t happen without him intending it? He kept talking. ‘Sometimes you plait your hair in two, then twirl the plaits around your head and pin them like a crown.’
Breath shuddered from between her lips. He swore he heard her swallow. Then she said, ‘Only in the kitchen.’
He lifted a hand, pausing before he could do what he wanted. ‘Can I touch it?’
‘Can you...? My hair?’ she asked, her eyes dipping to where his hand hovered above the strands on her shoulder. He nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’
She sounded annoyed that he’d clarified. It made him smile. So did the strands of her hair, which were curly and soft and just a little wet.
‘I like it like this.’
‘In that case, I’ll wear it this way more often,’ she said dryly. ‘It’s incredibly practical for someone who owns a restaurant.’
He laughed. Gave in to the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear as he’d seen her do earlier. ‘I wouldn’t say no.’
She exhaled. ‘What are you doing, Benjamin?’
He dropped his hand, looked at her face. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You do know.’
‘No, I don’t.’ He smiled. Almost as soon as he did, the smile vanished. ‘Except for right now. Right now, I’m contemplating how to get you to kiss me again. I’d say it’s an appropriate response to how incredible you look.’ He shook his head. ‘I was staring earlier because I didn’t have anything to say. You’re so beautiful. And so is this dress...and your hair, your face...’ He shook his head again. Offered her a wry, possibly apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry. I think the last couple of days have officially caught up with me.’
Her expression was unreadable, but she said, ‘It’s been a rough couple of days.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Because of me.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise. You already have, anyway.’
‘Right.’ She leaned back against her door, which he realised only now she hadn’t moved away from. ‘This hasn’t been easy for me either.’
‘I know.’
‘A large part of it is because you get on my nerves. A lot,’ she added when he frowned.
‘That seems uncalled for, considering I just gave you a bunch of compliments.’
‘You want acknowledgement for that?’
‘A thank you would be nice,’ he muttered.
‘You’re right.’
‘Sorry—could you say that again?’ He patted his pocket, looking for his phone. ‘I want to record it for posterity.’
‘This, for example, is extremely annoying. But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about the kiss we had the other day.’
He stilled.
‘Which gets on my nerves, too. An interesting conundrum. Am I annoyed because I’m attracted to you? Am I annoyed because you annoy me but I’m still attracted to you?’ She exhaled. It sounded frustrated. ‘I don’t have answers, but I keep asking these questions. Then, of course, you do something decent, like pretend to be my boyfriend even though you have no reason or incentive to. You stand up for me in front of my brother, which I found disturbingly hot. In the same breath, you act stupidly, and tell your mother—your mother—that I’m your girlfriend. Which, tonight, we have to rectify.’
She shook her head.
‘Honestly, Benjamin, these last few days have been the most frustratingly complicated of my life, and I’m an entrepreneur with a crappy family. And I’m pregnant, about to become a single mother. Complicated is the air I breathe. But you make things...’ She trailed off with a little laugh. ‘And still, I want to kiss you, too.’
It took him an embarrassingly long time to process everything she said. By the time he got to the end of it, the part where she wanted to kiss him, his jaw dropped. Trying to maintain his dignity, he shook his head.
‘I don’t need someone to kiss me out of charity. Espec
ially not someone who thinks I’m annoying.’ The more he spoke, the more indignant he felt. ‘I’m only annoying because you’re annoyed with everyone. Don’t deny it,’ he said when she opened her mouth. ‘It was like that at the Institute. You had so many people trying to be your friend and you’d brush them aside. Draw into yourself. It’s like no one was ever good enough for you.’
She tilted her head, the muscles in her jaw tightening and relaxing, one eyebrow raised. ‘You’re upset—and lashing out—because I called you annoying?’
‘I’m not...’ He clenched his teeth. ‘This is exactly what I’m talking about.’
‘Oh—was this you trying to be my friend? Is this me drawing into myself?’
‘You know what?’ he said, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to shrug off the irritation. ‘I don’t need to do this.’
‘No, you don’t,’ she agreed. ‘You should have just kissed me like I asked you to and neither of us would be annoyed now.’
‘When did you ask me to kiss you?’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You think I told you I’ve been thinking about our kiss for the fun of it? That I’m attracted to you because I was ranting?’ She snorted. ‘You spend an eternity staring at me, telling me you’re trying to get me to kiss you, and when I give you permission—’
‘That was not permission.’
‘Yes, it was. I said, and I quote—’
‘Shut up.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You gave me permission?’
‘I did. But if you think you can—’
This time, he shut her up by kissing her.
* * *
Apparently, he did think he could. And she wasn’t mad about it.
Not about the way his lips pressed against hers with a force that had her pushing back against her front door. Not about the fact that they’d had a ridiculous argument that culminated in this kiss in the passageway of her flat. She had no idea what her neighbours thought. She liked the idea of them cheering her on. It wasn’t what she’d be doing if someone was arguing near her flat, but she was uptight like that. Her neighbours generally seemed cool.
None of that mattered now, of course. Benjamin had teased her lips open—it hadn’t taken much cajoling—and now their tongues were entwined, moving around one another like two loose strands of a rope longing to be tied. She blamed the inelegance of it on the passion. Their argument had fuelled it, though she suspected it was always there between them, simply because of who they were. She couldn’t fault it when it created a hunger that could be sated like this. With his lips moving against her, allowing gooseflesh to take the place of her skin. With his tongue, sending heat to places in her body that had been cool for longer than she could remember.
As if he had heard her, Benjamin’s hands began to move. They’d been on her waist, keeping her in place, she suspected. But now they skimmed the sides of her breasts, running along her neck, angling her head so he could kiss her more deeply. The throaty moan that he got in response was a soundtrack for his journey back down, although now he lingered exactly where she needed him to. His touch was gentle at her waist, his thumbs brushing her belly. She gasped. It was intimate, him touching her stomach like that. It felt as if he was claiming her. Her baby.
And that was more intense than when he reached her hips and pulled her against him, bringing the most aching part of her to where she needed him.
But that wasn’t true any more. The most aching part of her was her heart now, his innocent caress of her stomach awakening things that she’d forced to sleep years ago. When he pulled back, she offered him a small smile of reassurance. It was okay, him kissing her. She was okay. She wasn’t being threatened by the loneliness that always followed her. She wasn’t overcome by the enormity of her decision to have a baby alone.
After the thing with Kenya and her baby had happened, Alexa had thought more seriously about having her own. She’d done so with her head and her heart. Her head had told her that she was thirty years old, and her ability to become a mother wouldn’t always be as simple as it was now. It told her that her business was steady enough for her to take maternity leave, and that when she came back she’d be stronger for having had her baby. If her business took a knock, she was still only thirty, and she’d work her tail off—with even more incentive than usual—to make sure it was back on track.
Her heart had told her that she was ready. She’d spent her entire life examining what she shouldn’t be as a mother; who she shouldn’t be as a parent. She was ready to finally have the family of her dreams. Where support, love, inclusion were the norm. She wouldn’t push her child to breaking point, or create an environment where her child felt they needed to compete for her love. No, she would create warmth and happiness. A home, as she’d done with her flat.
But that was before she’d lost her head chef. Now her business didn’t seem nearly as stable as it had been before. And that was before this kiss with Benjamin. Suddenly she was thinking about whether she was robbing her child of having someone else to love them. If she was robbing herself of sharing the miracle of the life growing inside her; or the tenderness Benjamin had shown her.
‘Hey,’ he said softly, his thumb brushing over her cheek. ‘It couldn’t have been that bad.’
‘What? No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not—it wasn’t bad.’ She gave him that smile again. ‘We should probably get to dinner.’
‘Alexa—’
‘I’m fine, Benjamin. I promise.’ But she wasn’t. She was promising a lie. ‘We’re fine, too.’ That one she meant.
Because in her head, this would be the last kiss. Tonight would be the last night they spent together. Soon people would know their relationship was fake, a joke. Lee would know—but she would survive it. She would go on to court Cherise de Bruyn and focus on getting the chef, as she should have from the beginning. No one would distract her. Not even Benjamin.
At least that way, though her heart seemed to be unsure of her decisions, her head wouldn’t be.
Chapter 7
‘Really, Mom?’ said Benjamin when they walked in. ‘You haven’t even said hello but already you have baby videos out?’ His mother gave him a bright smile in return, and he couldn’t even be mad. He rolled his eyes though. Looked at Alexa. ‘Go ahead. Clearly my mother would like to start the evening with embarrassment.’
Alexa walked past him, wearing a smile more genuine than the last few she’d given him. He didn’t know if he was relieved or annoyed. Neither. Both.
‘I’m going to be very disappointed if there are no videos of him running around naked,’ Alexa said. ‘It’s the only level of embarrassment I’ll accept.’
‘Well, then, you’re in luck,’ Nina Foster said with a smile.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs Foster.’ Alexa held out a hand.
‘I’ve already told you my name is Nina.’ His mother ignored Alexa’s hand, instead pulling her in for a hug. Alexa accepted with a small laugh. Benjamin released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. When his mother pulled back, she said, ‘You can call me Aunty Nina, dear.’
At that, Alexa grinned. ‘Perfect.’
‘I take it Dad’s in the kitchen,’ Benjamin said to distract himself from the troubling warmth in his chest.
‘Yes. He’s almost done though. That man loves to cook.’ Nina aimed that at Alexa. ‘It’s where Benny gets his talent.’
‘In that case, I’m looking forward to dinner.’ Alexa turned to Benjamin. ‘Should I hang this up, or can I drape it over a chair?’
‘Oh, I’ve got it.’
He took the coat, went to his bedroom and hung it on a hanger from his own cupboard. It was the least he could do, considering the coat had been collateral damage in their make-out session, when he’d tossed it on the floor. He wouldn’t have bothered doing anything with her coat otherwise.
His mother would have scolded him, but only after he’d already set the guest’s coat down somewhere innocuous. It was the approach he took with most of his clothing, as evidenced by the tornado that had gone off in his room. His parents refused to go in there. Since he helped with the household expenses, they had a you’re an adult, you deserve your privacy policy. Except he didn’t think they meant privacy in the form of someone—including, on particularly bad days, him—being unable to find anything inside the room.
He took another look at things, winced. It would be better if Alexa—
‘Is this your room?’
He turned quickly, blocking the doorway with his body. She was a little further down the passage, so she hadn’t seen anything. Yet. He would keep it that way.
‘Er...no. I mean, yes.’ He closed the door behind him. ‘It’s where I...do things.’
‘Things?’
‘Sleep.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Dress.’
‘Okay.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why don’t you want me to see it?’
It was obviously too much to hope that she would be polite and ignore his reluctance. But no, not Alexa. She was too straightforward, too unapologetic to allow something like politeness to get in the way of information she wanted.
‘It’s untidy.’
She waved a hand. ‘So was mine the other day.’
‘That was untidy?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Honestly, I have no idea what that word means with some people. My mother says exactly the same thing and the place is spotless.’ He paused. ‘I’m willing to bet she told you our place is untidy right now. And I know for a fact she spent the entire day supervising our cleaner.’
‘I wouldn’t take that bet.’ She lifted her nose in the air before she grinned. ‘Because she just did.’
He chuckled, but stopped when she took a step forward. ‘I’m not like you or my mother.’
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