Bad Swipe
Page 20
“He’s a good man,” she whispered, and knew it to be the truth.
“Yes.”
“And now I have to decide what to do, because we can’t go on like this forever.”
A smile. “Also, yes.”
Stef fell silent.
“For the record,” Heidi said. “I think you should keep him.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ben
The elevator doors opened on a ding, but he’d long ago stopped hoping it would be Stef.
He had so much to make up for.
So much to prove.
It might take forever for her to accept him back into her life.
And rightfully so.
He’d been . . . well, words couldn’t describe how much of an asshole he’d been.
Pathetic. Angry. Stupid. Horrible. Oh, and he might as well throw undeserving in there as well.
Just for good measure.
He had the TV on in the background, the show a painful reminder, and yet he felt the need to keep punishing himself. Because it was part of her. Part of Stef. And he’d take any piece he could get.
“Stargate?”
He jumped, launching himself off the couch, dislodging a very unhappy Sweetheart.
Stef was here.
Here.
A kernel of hope gathered in his chest, he started to round the couch, wanting to take her in his arms, but she put her hand up, and he stopped in his tracks.
“I missed you,” he said. “And I’m so sorry and I love you and I’ll make it up—”
Her hand lifted higher.
He shut up.
“You will never, ever talk to me like that again.”
That kernel grew, spreading outward from his chest. “I promise you, I won’t.”
“And you won’t order me to leave or shut me down.” Her shoulders rose and fell on a breath. “You will talk to me. We will work out our problems. Together.”
“Yes, honey. I swear to you that we will be in this together.”
“And you will also understand that it will take me time to trust you again.”
That dimmed the kernel, but he knew it wasn’t anything less than he deserved. “I understand. I . . .” He hesitated. “Can I show you something?”
She nodded.
He brought her the stack of paper he’d intended on having delivered in the morning, pressed them into her hands.
She flipped through them, her mouth gaping open.
“I—” Her eyes shot to his. “I . . . you’re giving me a building?”
“I don’t want you to ever think that you don’t have a place here,” he said, daring to brush his knuckles over her cheek. “So, it’s yours. This floor, the rest of the building. It’s all yours. You have the leverage, the right to kick me out if you want. You belong here.”
A single tear slid down her cheek. “Ben,” she whispered.
“I know you said you forgave me, but I haven’t begun to forgive myself. I’m so sorry. You told me all your weak spots, you found courage to plaster them up and move forward, and I—I broke—”
His voice cracked, tears blurred his eyes.
Soft fingers on his cheek. “You didn’t break me.”
He sucked in a breath. “I’m—”
“No more apologies, baby. No more looking back.” Her lips curved. “You were an asshole. But I should have fought to make you see—”
“I wouldn’t have let you.”
She stepped close enough that her breath brushed his lips. “Let’s call it that we both fucked up—you significantly more than me, of course—” Her mouth curved. “And move on, okay?”
“I feel like I should be groveling more.”
“You gave me a building.” She held up the papers. “And a signed script and chocolate and sunflowers and a glittery boot with my name on it . . . and I’m never giving you that sweatshirt back, not for as long as you live.”
“You can have every single one in my closet, all that I haven’t bought yet. They’re all yours.”
“Such romantic words.” A grin. “If only we weren’t talking about hoodies.”
“Would you rather me talk about you?”
Humor in her eyes. “Yes.”
“Okay then, let’s start with these beautiful, gorgeous brown eyes. I can stare at them for hours and still not discern all the secrets.”
“Ben.”
“And these lips.” He ran his thumb along the bottom one. “I could taste them for days and—”
“Ben.”
“—and still never be satisfied.” She moaned, but he kept going. “And this heart.” He stroked his fingers along her chest, just over where it pounded against her rib cage. “It’s huge and brave, and I am utterly amazed at its strength.”
“Ben!”
“What?”
“Just shut up already and kiss me.”
“I love you, and I just have to tell you one more thing.”
“Ben,” she groaned. “What is it?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
She burst out laughing.
And when he finally got to slant his mouth across hers, her laughter slid across his tongue, filled his heart and soul to overflowing.
It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
Epilogue
Stef, one year later
She smiled when she woke up.
But she did that a lot now.
In fact, she did it every day, but most especially on mornings like this. Saturday sleep in days and beach days and work days and . . . his arm tightened around her waist, his lips pressing to her nape.
Every day.
She woke up happy every single day.
Because she had Ben.
And herself. That was just as important.
“Morning,” Ben murmured, his voice husky as his hand slid down between her thighs. The man had skills like that, could easily arrow right to the spot that would bring her the most pleasure.
Not just in bed, either.
Her whole life was happier.
And not just because she lived in a penthouse, either. Though she couldn’t lie that the view was good. Maybe even incredible, if one considered the naked man in bed next to her.
Okay, not maybe.
It was incredible.
Ben’s fingers brushed over her clit, and she moaned, shifting her thighs apart so he could reach better—
Right as two furry bodies launched themselves onto their bed.
Ben groaned, not in pleasure this time.
But Stef just laughed. “They know it’s beach day.”
Ben groaned again, but it was good-natured this time. “I’m up,” he groused as Fred climbed on top of him, licking his face. “I’m up.”
Except he didn’t get up.
Instead, he rolled to the side, retrieved something, and said to Fred, “Give this to your mom, would you?”
And like the good boy he was, Fred turned and deposited whatever it was onto her lap. It took her a minute to fish the drool-covered box out of the blankets, then another to push Fred and Sweetheart back enough for her to sit up.
“What’s this?” she asked breathlessly.
Even though she already had a good idea of what it was.
Ben just smirked. “You’d find out if you opened it.”
“Or you could tell me.”
“Or”—he pressed her fingers to the lid—“you could just open it and find out.”
“Or—”
“Stef.” He leaned up, kissed her until her lungs threatened to explode. “Open the damned box.”
She started to, stopped. “It better not be another building.”
“Stef.”
She opened the box, gasped, even though she’d already known what was inside. Because the ring was beautiful and exquisite and too much and . . . she loved it. Loved him.
So freaking much.
“Will you—”
“Yes!”
She launched herself into his ar
ms, kissing him with every bit of love and joy and affection she possessed for this man. But she only got to kiss him for a few heartbeats before two furry beasts joined in on the party.
Four tongues in the mix wasn’t ideal.
But those other three tongues were also her family.
Which, she got, sounded gross and weird and wholly unappetizing.
Still, they were her family, even with the dual doggy breath, even with Sweetheart wriggling between them, licking her chin and Fred knocking the air out of her as he climbed on top of her to settle on her chest.
Even with Ben—
No, especially with Ben, smiling down at her as he dodged paws—and tongues—to slide the ring on her finger, proving to her day in and out that he was a good man.
The perfect man for her.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I—”
There was a clamoring in the hall, and they froze.
“Did you ask her yet?” Claire.
“Did she say yes?” Heidi.
“I brought breakfast!” Kate.
“I don’t think we should be here.” Kels.
“We should definitely be here, if only to get a shot at seeing Ben naked.” Tammy.
A cackle. Cora. “I think you’re my favorite friend.”
The dogs jumped off the mattress and sprinted from the bedroom, as though finally realizing people who would love on them were just mere feet away.
“Sweet Christ,” Ben muttered.
Stef tugged the covers up. “What are they doing here?”
Ben winced. “I might have accidentally mentioned that I was going to propose this morning.”
She glared.
Another wince. “Does that yes still stand?”
God, she loved him. “Yes,” she whispered, rolling so she was on top of him. “It’s still a yes. Because my friends are punishment enough—”
“Hey!”
She darted a glance to the entrance to the bedroom, saw her friends crammed into the door. “I said, yes, now go,” she ordered. “And shut the door behind you.”
They went.
But not before Cora whined, “But we didn’t get to see—”
They closed the door.
Stef was left alone with her man.
And she was the lucky one to see him naked.
Epilogue
Bad Girlfriend
Tammy
Are you really breaking up with me via text?
Tammy winced as she read the text message and started to set down her cell.
But it vibrated again.
While I’m in your bathroom?
Yeah, so her timing wasn’t ideal.
Sighing, she tugged the covers back and pulled on her robe. Her frumpy, holey, old flannel robe that absolutely dwarfed her and was so unappealing that it had run off more than her fair share of men.
Which was why she only pulled it out for very special occasions.
Her period when she felt horrible and crampy and exhausted and just wanted to veg on the couch and pretend that her uterus wasn’t shredding itself to pieces.
The other very special occasion?
This.
The bathroom door cracked open as she was belting it, and a very pretty, probably too pretty for her man walked out. Naked. She picked up his clothes, turned them right side out, and handed them to him.
“This is me breaking up with you. Not in the bathroom,” she added when he opened his mouth to say something she didn’t want him to say. “Not that we were together in the first place.”
“We’ve been sleeping together for three months.”
She lifted a brow. “We’ve been fucking together. That’s it. That’s what I made clear from the moment I brought you home from Bobby’s.”
“That’s not—”
He broke off, and she pointed to the clothes. “Get dressed,” she ordered, moving to the bedroom door. “I’ll clue you in. You’re upset because you’re usually the one who ends things, and you’re used to women fawning all over you because you’re pretty.” A beat. “And you are. You’re gorgeous.”
His face went soft, and Tammy remembered why she’d brought him home in the first place.
But the man was getting too attached.
It would be much less messy to end things now.
“But I’m done.”
“But—”
“Done,” she repeated, having done this too many times to do anything but end it here and now. Adam was a nice guy, and she’d kept him around for so long because he’d seemed on board to be a fuck buddy, but tonight . . . tonight he’d been different.
Tonight he’d made love to her.
Tonight hadn’t been about mutual attraction.
He had feelings for her, and she couldn’t let that stand. Better to cut ties now before he grew even more attached, before things got messier.
“Get dressed,” she said again, exiting the bedroom and walking down the hall, moving to the front door.
It was better to be by an exit.
That made things less complicated . . . and easier to slam and lock the door.
A minute later, Adam emerged from the bedroom, shoving his cell and wallet into his pocket, his eyes blazing, his lips parting as he lifted his arms, preparing to take her in his arms.
Fuck.
She sidestepped, gripped the doorknob, and opened the door.
“Bye, Adam,” she murmured.
“We’d be good together.”
“No,” she said. “We wouldn’t.”
“You like me.”
She clenched her jaw. “Look, you’re a nice guy, but—”
He came close, lowered his head.
She put up her hand, pushed him back. “No.”
“Tammy—”
“It’s not you. It’s me.”
That finally seemed to penetrate, probably since it was such a shitty line, a crappy thing to say. But Adam at least backed away, his eyes furious. “Seriously?”
Tammy just lifted her brows.
He made a disgusted sound, but she was far too well-versed in this to feel guilty.
“Goodbye, Adam.”
A shake of his head, but he didn’t say anything further, just walked down the steps.
She watched him get into his car, screech out of her driveway.
Sigh.
Now she’d need to find a new source of orgasms.
Rolling her shoulders, she started to turn to go back inside.
“It’s not you, it’s me?”
That voice was silk brushing along her thighs, dipping up to test the moisture between them. It was heat in her abdomen, fingers grazing her nipples.
It was . . . instant sexual attraction, the same heady feeling she’d experienced the moment she’d laid eyes on Fletcher King. Eyes catching as she’d strode to her office, blazing blue irises and dark brown hair, so dark that it was nearly black. She’d clocked sexy stubble, a built body, and a great smile.
But he wanted it.
It being a real relationship, a girlfriend, a wife and the picket fence. It being everything she couldn’t give, because she wasn’t a relationship, girlfriend, or wife and picket fence kind of woman.
She wanted free . . . and freedom.
More than she wanted the gorgeous man in front of her.
“What are you doing here, Fletcher?”
“I need a favor.”
The refusal was already on her lips. A favor that brought her sexy co-worker to her house on a weekend certainly didn’t bode well for her.
But then he smiled, and she actually had to force her knees to lock so she didn’t melt into a puddle and . . . that right there illustrated just how much she didn’t want to be in a relationship.
Because she’d been resisting this attraction with Fletch for an entire year.
Locking her knees, ignoring the melting, denying the temptation of him.
But that sexy smile, highlighted by the setting sun, the warm lights of her porc
h . . . undid her.
That sexy smile had her refusal staying lodged in her throat.
That smile had her saying . . . yes.
* * *
—Bad Girlfriend September 14th, 2021
Bad Girlfriend
Tammy and Fletcher’s story is coming September 14, 2021. Preorder your copy at www.books2read.com/BadGirlfriend
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Billionaire’s Club
Bad Night Stand
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Bad Breakup
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Bad Husband
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Bad Hookup
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Bad Divorce
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Bad Fiancé
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Bad Boyfriend
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Bad Blind Date
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Bad Wedding
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Bad Engagement
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Bad Bridesmaid
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Bad Swipe
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Bad Girlfriend
Also by Elise Faber
Billionaire’s Club (all stand alone)
Bad Night Stand
Bad Breakup
Bad Husband