by T. L. Haddix
Slightly calmer, she let her eyes close and inhaled, then exhaled with conscious thought. It was the same type of breathing used in yoga, and it helped her visualize the stress of the day in a ball, which was still attached to her, but at least it was outside her body.
“I need to check the weather. See what’s expected,” she whispered as she opened her eyes. With one last look at the horizon, where she saw flashes of lightning around the edges of the low-hanging clouds, she went inside.
Two hours later, she was pacing the length of the living room, her arms wrapped around herself, as the storm raged outside. She had placed lit candles along the mantel and had dug out a flashlight from the kitchen junk drawer. Whether the power would go off wasn’t a question of if, but when. It had already flickered heavily a few times, each drop in power causing Ainsley to nearly jump out of her skin.
The phone was already out. She’d checked that when the storm had first started since she knew Byrdie would be concerned about her. She’d wanted to call and let her friend know she was okay, but a crackling interference met her ear when she lifted the receiver.
When the power finally went off and stayed off, Ainsley was almost relieved. Exhausted from the day’s stressful events, she grabbed a large pillow off the back of the couch and a throw blanket, then settled down in the hall, in the center of the house. She curled up on the carpet on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest, and tried to push the sound of the storm out of her mind.
For a fleeting instant, she wished Ben were there to hold her. She stopped that train of thought before it went any further. She couldn’t let herself get used to the idea of him again. As soon as she left for Lexington, if not before, he would be a part of her past. That had been made clear to her in the way he had withdrawn when they touched anywhere near being emotionally intimate.
After a while, the storm wound down to a steady, pounding rain. Lightning stopped flashing, and only the occasional distant rumble of thunder sounded through the empty house. The power stayed off, however. Weary down to her bones, Ainsley rose from the floor, still wrapped in the blanket, despite the fact that the house had heated up with the air conditioning off.
She headed for the mantel, intent on blowing out the candles, when she heard a knock at the front door. Unnerved, she jumped and gave a little shriek, whirling around so fast the candles flickered. Heart pounding, hands on her chest, she struggled to calm herself.
“Who—Ben?” Before the power had gone out, the clock had read almost ten o’clock, and that had been some time ago. She’d given up on seeing him tonight.
The knock came again, louder this time. Dragging the blanket with her, she hurried to the window that looked out on the front stoop and pulled back the curtain. When she saw that it was in fact Ben, she almost cried with relief. After fumbling with the lock, she got the door open. A gust of wind grabbed the heavy wood, tearing it from her hand, and blew it into the wall. She hardly noticed.
“You’re here.” Stupidly, she stared at him. He was soaked to the skin, that much she could tell even in the dark.
The flashlight in his hand flickered and died, and he cursed quietly. “I’m here. Do you mind if I come in?”
“Oh! I’m so sorry. Of course not.” She stepped back so he could come in, then closed the door behind him, leaning against it for support. “You startled me a bit.”
“Sorry.”
There was enough light in the room that she could see him move. He slicked his hair back, and his hand came away dripping wet. His clothes were molded to his body, and all Ainsley’s tension coiled low and hot in her belly, the stress rapidly channeling itself into arousal.
“Do you have a towel or something? I don’t want to hurt the floor.”
She didn’t move. “You can’t hurt this tile.”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her in the dim light. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t like storms. We need to get you out of those clothes.” She pushed away from the door and took the flashlight, which she placed on the table beside the door with hers. Not waiting for his response, she went straight for the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it.
“Okay. We can do that. But what about Byrdie?” His voice was muffled as he struggled to get the wet cotton over his head.
Ainsley started undoing his belt. “She’s visiting family in Littcarr.”
“So it’s just us?”
“It’s just us.” She managed to get the belt undone, but his hand stopped her before she could undo his pants.
“Ainsley, hang on. You’re worrying me a little.”
She froze, horrified. “Oh, lord. I’m so sorry.” Mortified, she stepped back, her hands going to cover her hot cheeks.
“No, no, no. I don’t—I’m not complaining.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’re just so anxious. I can feel you shaking. I don’t remember you being afraid of storms.” His still-damp hand came up and brushed her hair back off her cheek.
“I didn’t used to be. We can stop.”
The feel of his work-roughened hand caressing her cheek and his thumb brushing her lips sent a pulse of heat through her. Instinctively, she nipped at him, and he sucked in a fast breath.
“Stopping is not on my radar right now,” he muttered, his voice a low, husky rumble. To her consternation, though, he brought the conversation right back to her new dislike of storms. “When did this phobia start?”
“I thought we weren’t personalizing this,” she argued softly. “And that story is very, very personal.”
He didn’t move, other than that maddening thumb, or say anything else for a full minute. “Why don’t we save it for later, then? Right now, I think you need a distraction.”
Relieved, she slid her arms around his shoulders as he kissed her. His skin was slick from the rain, and she couldn’t wait to feel that wetness against her own skin. Tearing her mouth away, she stepped back far enough to jerk her dress over her head. In the hopes that he would show up, she’d not put any underwear on after she’d showered that evening. Ben’s appreciative groan told her that had been a wise decision.
His arousal had apparently caught up to hers, because he shucked his shoes and pants with impressive speed. With both of them as naked as the day they were born, he backed her up against the door, pinning her there with his weight.
The sensation was as erotic as she’d imagined it might be, and her hands clenched so hard around his shoulders, her fingernails dug into the skin a little. Aside from a quick grunt, he didn’t object, and when his mouth captured hers, it was all she could do to keep up. He nudged her legs apart with one of his, and some small sliver of her mind dinged with alarm.
“Condom,” she gasped as he cupped the space between her legs. “Please.”
“Shit.” He started to pull away, but came back for another kiss, his hand moving with a repetitive circular motion that had her crying out. “Come apart for me first.”
When he dropped to his knees in front of her, Ainsley didn’t understand what he was doing at first. The feel of his mouth, open and hot, on the inside of her thigh, nearly sent her through the roof.
“Ben, oh, please. I’ve never…please.” After a few seconds, she didn’t know if she was begging him to stop or to continue. He brought her to the edge again and again, but pulled back just before she went over. By the time he finally let her climax, she was nearly crying with the force of her desire. He had to support her, or else she would have collapsed.
When she came back into her body, he was still on his knees in front of her. He brushed his cheek against the smooth skin of her abdomen as he feathered soothing kisses across her belly.
“I don’t want to know where you learned that, but damn, I’m glad you did.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until he snorted with surprised laughter. Too sated
to care if she’d revealed her secret emotions, she smiled down at him.
He rose to his feet, pants in hand. “My turn.” He worked a hand into the pocket of his wet pants and fished out a condom. Dropping the pants, he held up the foil packet so she could see it. He wasted no time in getting the package open and the condom on. “Can you walk?”
That was a good question. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out.” He took her hand and helped her gain her legs, then walked her to the back of the couch. “Hop up here.”
As soon as she was situated on the back, he stepped between her legs and drew her arms up around his neck. “Hold on.” Grabbing her legs behind her knees, he lifted them and pulled her forward just a tiny bit.
Closer to the candles, Ainsley could see his face more clearly. He kept his eyes on hers as he positioned himself at her opening and slowly, oh, so slowly, entered her. She had to struggle to keep her own eyes open, as the pleasure of having him where she wanted him was so strong.
He didn’t try to kiss her, but as they moved together, he kept his eyes locked on hers. Their breathing increased with the tempo of their movements. Her climax surprised her, and her head fell back as she cried out. The move exposed her throat for his hungry mouth. He bit down on the sensitive spot where her neck joined her shoulder and followed her to completion.
For a long, long time after, they just clung to each other. Ainsley wasn’t sure what had happened, exactly, but the atmosphere between them felt different—more tentative, more personal, fragile and new.
She was terrified she would mess it up.
Ben finally stepped back and had to move quickly to get a tissue off the table at the end of the couch. “I, uh, need a shower.”
Ainsley teased him, even as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You could just go back outside for a few minutes.”
He grinned. “I could. Where can I find some soap?”
“Silly. Grab the flashlight and come with me. The hot water should still be warm, at least.”
“You’ll have to shower with me. I’m afraid of the dark,” he teased back as they went down the hall to the guest room.
Ainsley’s heart stuttered at the warmth in his tone. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but she was almost certain something had. She tried to stay nonchalant, though, as she answered him. “It’ll be my third shower of the day, but okay, if you insist.”
“Oh, I do.”
Praying fervently as she’d only ever done on a few occasions, she sent her hopes and wishes heavenward. Maybe, if she was very lucky, someone would be listening.
Chapter Twenty
They were out of the shower and drying off by candlelight when Ben told her about the tree blocking the driveway.
“It’s a big one. You’ll need to call someone in to remove it.”
She stopped toweling off and frowned at him. “So I’m stuck up here. That’s what you’re saying?”
“Yeah. I had to park at the foot of the hill and walk up, which is why I was soaked.” He used his fingers to comb his hair into some semblance of neatness.
Ainsley groaned and leaned against the bathroom counter, holding the towel that she was wrapped in together at her chest. “Where am I going to find a crew to do that on a Saturday?”
A ridiculous flutter of nerves moved through him, but Ben shrugged it off. “I might be able to pull a team together.” He stepped in front of her and moved a damp, slightly curly lock of hair off her cheek.
“You think so?” She tilted her head to the side and smiled up at him sweetly as her hands brushed his chest. Her face was a mix of innocence and enchanting mischief, an irresistible combination.
“Probably. I can call in a favor or two.” He captured her hands as they started straying into an area that would get them both in trouble. “But first, you need to feed me. I’m starving.”
She rose up on her toes and kissed him softly. “I can do that. We also need to find you something to wear. Maybe a towel or sheet or something? You can wear it like a toga.”
Ben grinned at her retreating back as she grabbed her robe from the back of the door and headed into the bedroom. “Just don’t tell anyone.”
In the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and started handing him bowls and a platter. “I made supper, but didn’t eat because I was so worried about the storm. I doubt this even had a chance to get fully cooled down before the power went off, so I’m not worried about keeping the fridge closed. Most of the stuff inside will have to be pitched, so we might as well eat what we want now.”
When he lifted the foil off the platter, the aroma made his mouth water. “Fried chicken?”
“Mm-hmmm. Potato salad, green beans. Those might be too cold to eat.”
She grabbed two plates and handed him one, but Ben set it aside so he could focus on the chicken breast he’d pulled off the platter.
“This is incredible,” he told her, his mouth full.
A very satisfied smile spread across her face as she filled her plate, then his. “I know.”
“You eat like this all the time? How do you keep that body and eat this food?”
“I don’t. Byrdie and I started cooking much healthier once we left Hazard, but every now and then, it’s nice to have the comfort food. And we worked the recipes out so that they’re healthier than the originals, but still as tasty. That was actually easier than it sounds. Plain tea or lemonade?”
“Tea’s fine.”
They sat at the small table, and Ben made fast work of the first plate of food. “I’m going back for seconds,” he warned her. As he stood, the small sheet she’d found for him slipped, and he had to move quickly to keep it from falling. The laugh that spilled out of Ainsley as he cursed and struggled with the fabric caused the cage he’d put around his heart to shift and crack.
“Woman, I’m about to bare my arse here, and you’re laughing at me?” He fixed the sheet and put his hands on his hips, glaring at her in mock outrage. That caused her to laugh harder, and with a low growl, he planted a hand on the table, leaning over her. “You think that’s funny, huh?”
She nodded, still giggling, and put a hand up to his chest. The robe slipped off one shoulder, but she ignored it. While she wiped her eyes with her spare hand, she trailed teasing fingers down to the knot he’d secured the sheet with, making the muscles in his abdomen jump. Ben grabbed that hand before she could undo the sheet and captured her mouth in a heated kiss.
“Trouble, you keep your hands to yourself. At least for a little while.” Somewhat reluctantly, he straightened and went back to the task he’d started when he stood.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes. I need more calories to keep up. Do you want anything?”
“No, I’m fine.” Still nervous from the storm, she’d cleared about half the food off her plate.
He got about half the amount of food he had first started with, and when he turned back around, he caught her looking at him with a wistful smile on her face. She tried to act casual, but for the first time since they’d reconnected, he saw a little of the sadness she was hiding. That shook him. Ignoring it, he sat and resumed eating.
Ainsley pulled up one leg and wrapped an arm around her knee. She finished off her tea while he ate.
He let the comfortable silence stretch, trying to figure out how to approach what his instincts told him was going to be a hot-button issue. The storm had clearly shaken her, and if he just asked her directly, she might answer.
“So why do storms bother you now?”
Ainsley went perfectly still, her muscles visibly tensing, and she took a slow, deep breath. “You want to go there?”
“Yeah.”
The bitter edge on her smile made Ben’s hair stand on end. “You won’t like it.”
He sat back sl
owly, tea in hand, and nodded. “I didn’t think I would.”
“I’m going to need a cigarette, then. Are you finished with the food?” She stood and took her plate to the sink.
“Yeah. Do you want to put it up?”
“No. It won’t keep. Meet me on the back porch?” She grabbed one of the candles.
“Sure.” As she left, he wondered if he was doing the right thing by pushing her. He finished clearing the table and covered the leftovers. He hesitated as he folded the aluminum foil back over the chicken. It was too good to waste. “I can stick it in the freezer. It may keep.”
Once that was accomplished, he picked up the other candle and headed down the hall past Byrdie’s room. Ainsley was halfway down the patio, under the overhang that protected a thin strip of concrete from the rain. She was perched on a wide wooden plank that covered the old porch bannister. The wood appeared to have been added recently.
“This new?”
“Yes. I have a spot at home where I can sit and look out, and I didn’t have that here. So we built one. It isn’t pretty, but it works.” She flicked her cigarette, the ashes falling harmlessly into a puddle below.
Ben sat his candle down next to hers and got comfortable in one of the outdoor chairs a few feet away from where she sat. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Her laugh held no humor. “No offense, but there’s a lot you don’t know about me. For all intents and purposes, we’re strangers.”
He actually felt a sharp sting of pain, though he couldn’t argue. They’d been closer than a lot of the married couples he knew, his own family excepted, but that had been five years ago.
“When Doug and I got married, it was an alliance. And for a while, it was an uneasy alliance,” she said softly. “When I found out I was pregnant, it was a blessing and a curse. Neither of us knew what to do about it. To be very frank, having a child wasn’t something we ever planned on. But there it was. And we knew it was the only shot we’d get at being parents.” She looked over at him, waiting, her expression guarded.