On one side of the coin were all the things Ben had said or done over the past few months to hurt me. He’d intentionally avoided me. He’d made me question his motives and our friendship. He’d lied to me. On the other side were the things he had recently said or done—at the dance, in the back of The Pit. Now.
Which side should I pay attention to? My decision could leave me heartbroken and alone now, or later. Or never. What if I wasn’t imagining the magic between us? Maybe it really was there. Or maybe I was just naïve.
“You know . . .” Ben murmured, cutting into my conflicted thoughts. “You don’t have to take that much time.”
I laughed softly, and risked a peek in his direction. Big mistake. A smile lit his face, and I lost myself in his eyes. While I stared, one of his hands rose to palm my cheek. I sucked in a sharp breath when his thumb traced over my lips.
“Ana, I’m not sure what this is,” he admitted softly, “but I know it’s something. For me, anyway, and I think maybe for you, too. If not—if there’s no chance of you feeling the same way—let me know now, because I’m going to kiss you in about five seconds.”
His gaze dropped to fix determinedly on my mouth, like it was the only thing on his mind. Freed from his hold, my eyes fluttered shut under the weight of anticipation as he softly counted down the seconds.
“Five . . . four . . .”
Five seconds was way too long—an eternity—and he was counting way too slowly.
My eyes snapped open to meet his pleadingly. “Three, two,” I fired off quickly.
Ben’s lips curled into a half smile. Relief and surprise flashed across his face before lustful determination set in. “One.”
The single word was a whisper on my cheek. I angled my head, welcoming his lips as they enclosed on mine. Unlike the previous kisses we’d shared, this one was full of power and lust from the start. The raw edge was something new, and exciting.
I knew we were kissing, but I felt like I was floating. Up and down, in and out. My mouth moved in sync with his while I rode the waves of pleasure. I gripped the front of his shirt with both hands to steady myself—or perhaps to bring him closer?
That small action flipped a switch in Ben. With a sweep of his tongue, he deepened the kiss. His arms tightened around me. One held my waist flush to his, while the other drifted up my back with smooth precision. His fingers tangled with the fringes of my hair. With a gentle tug, he tipped my head back to expose my neck for his wandering mouth. His teeth grazed my skin as he nibbled along my jaw, simultaneously allowing me the opportunity to finally breathe.
Not that he was much better off. His breaths were just as heavy as mine as he nuzzled and nipped at the sensitive spot beneath my ear before drifting closer to my mouth again. It took him too long to get there, and I gripped his face in my hands to bring him back to where I wanted him. His mouth crashed against mine with a groan—something low and deep and unbelievably sexy.
At the same time, his weight pushed me against the rough barn wall at my back. His arms cushioned most of the impact before hoisting me up. The world spun on its axis, then dropped beneath me. I found myself on the grass-covered ground, legs wrapped around Ben’s waist as he sat propped against the wall, with no recollection of how I got there.
All those little details were overshadowed by the tingling in my stomach and the pounding of my heart. I was kissing Ben—really kissing Ben—and it was the best experience of my life.
His arm pressed against my back, pinning me to his torso with relentless pressure while his other hand traced a lazy trail from my waist to my hip. His fingers brushed over the exposed skin beneath the hem of my shorts before drifting up again. The heat from his touch seared through the thin material, leaving behind a wake of coolness in his absence.
A sound of complaint rumbled from my throat. At that moment, I wished Ben had a dozen hands—all of them on me right now. But he didn’t. Nor could he continue kissing me like this forever.
We tore apart, both gasping for the air we didn’t realize we needed until then. The pressure from Ben’s hand on my back never wavered. I couldn’t move away from him if I wanted to. His other hand moved up from my leg and brushed aside the mane of hair that partially covered my face. I was rewarded with the unobstructed view of a toothy grin.
“So . . . about Saturday?” Ben prompted.
“I don’t . . .” I certainly didn’t want to go out with that other boy—especially not now—but I’d already told him yes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ben assured me. “I’ll take care of Saturday.”
I never got the details on what Ben meant by “take care of Saturday.” Shortly after assuring me that everything would work out, he’d escorted me back to my window. After everything that transpired that night, and everything that had been said between us, I still knew nothing.
Of course, Jen, Heather, and Megan weren’t much help the following afternoon at lunch.
“So . . .” Heather leaned across the table with a sly smile. “Are you two going steady now, or something?”
“I don’t . . .” I don’t know what this is, he had said. “I don’t think so. Just . . .”
“He doesn’t want you going out with anyone else,” Jen finished.
“Yeah, but he was like that before,” I pointed out.
Heather and Megan exchanged knowing glances, and I wished I understood boys like they did. Even a vague understanding would be better than what I had now. Ben had my head spinning, and my friends’ impish smiles weren’t helping.
“And you still don’t know about Saturday,” Jen mused thoughtfully.
I shook my head and opened my mouth to add a thought of my own, when a body slid onto the bench beside me. With it came a trace of sunshine and cedar—the scent I had long associated with Ben.
“Saturday is taken care of,” he volunteered. “As promised.”
I spun in my seat, and in the process caught the curious eyes of half of the students in the cafeteria on us. The other half were probably all staring too, but they were behind me, and I couldn’t—
Didn’t matter.
I pushed through the uneasiness at being the center of everyone’s attention to get to the issue at hand. “What exactly do you mean by ‘taken care of?’” I asked Ben.
He shrugged casually and plucked a French fry from my tray, like sitting beside me in the cafeteria was something he did every day. “Exactly what it sounds like. Caleb’s no longer an issue.”
“So I don’t have a date anymore?”
A faint smile graced his lips. “No, you still have a date.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. At the sound of a soft gasp behind me, I turned to study the surprised look on Megan’s face, then across the table to the smitten, glossy-eyed stares on Jen’s and Heather’s faces. Of course, they would know what was going on before I did. And I still wasn’t sure what—
Ben shifted, sliding one leg off the bench beside me, then the other. Standing behind me, he lowered his mouth to my ear. “Pick you up around six?”
My jaw drop rivaled Megan’s. So that was what he meant.
Somehow, I managed to nod. I had no idea what I was going to tell Ma, but I did know I was looking forward to Saturday a lot more than I had been this time yesterday.
I watched Ben and Mitch wrap up their late lunch and return to repairing the fence, from the safety of my bedroom. Mid-afternoon Saturday, the hours until my date with Ben now in the wee single digits, and I still hadn’t told Ma.
I feared she would say no when I told her of the change in partner. When Caleb had approached me at The Pit, I’d seen the subtle nod of her head and the look in her eyes. She’d been accepting, pleased even, of a date with the junior baseball player.
As she had been when Johnny escorted me to the spring dance.
But neither of them were Ben. The upgrade—in my opinion—was a nightmare for any parental authority that knew of Ben’s reputation. Throw in the many groundings I had earned while in
his company, and I knew this wasn’t going to go over well.
All I could do was get it over with. I backed away from the window and dashed down the stairs before I lost what little courage I had. I found Ma in the kitchen, preparing that evening’s dinner. She glanced up from the array of vegetables on the cutting board, sharp knife hovered in the air mid-slice.
“I’m not going out with Caleb Ritchey tonight,” I blurted. Ma blinked in surprise, and my wary gaze drifted to the knife in her hand. “I’m going out with Ben instead.”
I stared at the knife, thinking I probably should have disarmed her first, for a long time before anyone moved. The blade cut through a potato with a smooth flick of Ma’s wrist. I listened to the repeated thud of metal on wood as I nervously waited for her response.
Three potatoes were sliced and diced before Ma gave any indication that she’d heard me. Her long, heavy sigh wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped to hear, but I preferred it over the silence. My back straightened in anticipation when she put the knife down and pushed away from the counter.
Without a word, she walked outside, leaving me alone in the kitchen. She’d had no comment for me, but I suspected, from the long stride of her legs as they carried her across the property, that she had plenty to say to Ben.
“So much for that,” I muttered under my breath.
By the time I sulked up the stairs to hide in my room, I had convinced myself that there would be no date with Ben. Now or ever. Each time I peeked out the window, and saw Ma still talking to him on the other side of the property, my heart sank a little more.
There was a good chance she’d never let me out of the house again. At least until Ben was gone and off to college.
Several more minutes passed before I heard the kitchen door bang shut. Looking outside, I saw Ben and Mitch back to work like nothing had happened.
What had happened?
I steeled myself for bad news when I heard heavy steps ascending the stairs. I didn’t lift my head when my bedroom door swung open and Ma’s flour and spices scent filled my room. I couldn’t meet her eyes, no matter how long she let the silence drag on.
“Ana?” she finally called to me, and I lifted my chin to dart a look in her direction. “I want you to do your chores now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered.
“You need to do them early . . .” Her footsteps echoed off the hardwood floor as she came farther into the room, contrasting with the softness of her voice. “So that you have time to get ready before your date this evening.”
My head snapped up, and Ma offered me a tiny smile.
“I gave the boy a stern warning,” she explained. “He’s scared just enough of me for me to offer him my blessing.”
“Ma, tha—”
“Now, if either one of you takes this for granted,” she warned, “you will be lucky to see each other ever again.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She moved to the door. “Don’t make me regret it. Chores. Now.”
According to Mitch, Marly had my balls in her apron pocket. I couldn’t disagree with him. Which was exactly why, for the past hour, I had been the gentleman my mama always insisted I was capable of being.
I offered my arm. I opened doors. I even showed up with a bouquet of daisies for Ana. Sure, I’d plucked them from Mama’s garden behind our house, but no one needed to know that, and the gesture made Ana smile, and pleased Marly.
Following my conversation with Marly that afternoon, I’d considered changing my plan for the night. Problem was that there weren’t many date options in Stone Creek, aside from finding a party (not going to happen), parking at the bluffs by the river (definitely not going to happen), or mingling with the same kids we saw at school all week at The Pit. That left going to nearby River’s Bend’s drive-in for their season opener as my only decent option.
Just a movie. Innocent enough.
Marly didn’t need to know that I’d crafted a cozy bed in the back of the truck out of every spare pillow and blanket I could find in the house. It provided the best unobstructed view of the screen while giving us room to move. Besides, I’d maintained the strongly suggested twelve-inch distance between Ana and me. Marly had nothing to worry about.
I was capable of being a gentleman.
“You good? Need anything?” I asked Ana again, but this time, I was sure I didn’t imagine that little shiver that raced through her. While the days were warmer, the nights still brought a chill. I pulled the warmest of the blankets up and over her shoulders to keep her comfortable.
Ana gripped the edges tight before spinning at the waist to gape at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?”
“You’re being weird.”
“What? No, I’m—”
“You’ve barely looked at me since we left the house.”
“I know. I . . .” Honestly, I’d never been more nervous in my entire life, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
She waved her hand over the wide gap that separated us. “What’s this?”
“That is a promise I made to your grandmother.” The look I gave her communicated the importance of that promise—if I wanted to keep my manhood, and ever see Ana again.
A smile lit her eyes. “Seriously?”
“She had some reservations,” I muttered.
I watched as Ana’s face brightened under the dancing light created by the giant screen in front of us.
“You’re afraid of a sixty-year-old woman,” she giggled into her hand.
“Have you met your grandmother?”
Ana responded by smoothing out the spread of pillows and blankets between us, and then sliding closer. I flinched from the unexpected contact of her thigh brushing up against mine. Not in a bad way, but in a “too good for it to be right” kind of way.
“Ma never needs to know what the seating arrangements were,” Ana told me.
I glanced around as if I expected to find spies planted in one of the neighboring vehicles. Of course, it was ridiculous to think Marly would go that far, but it made Ana laugh. For that reason alone, I was tempted to do it again. I would be ridiculous every minute of every day if it earned me that kind of reward.
Relaxing for the first time all evening, I allowed a bit of my usual self to slip to the surface. With the distance between already taken care of by Ana, I slipped my arm around her shoulders. A gentle tug pulled her snugly against my side. She fit perfectly, like a puzzle piece I hadn’t known I was missing.
With her head on my chest, we turned our attention to the big screen in front of us as an exciting action sequence played out. With any luck, the shouts and accelerated music flowing through the speaker beside us would drown out my labored breathing. All I heard was my own heart thumping erratically in my chest.
After a moment, Ana’s chin tilted toward me and she whispered, “Your heart is beating really fast.”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a sigh.
She quietly unfurled her fingers to spread her hand across the flat planes of my stomach. The gentle caress caused a whole-body shudder to rip through me, and I silently wished she’d do it again. “Mine is, too.”
I found comfort in knowing that she was just as nervous as I was. I shouldn’t have been relieved by that. It did nothing to improve the situation we had found ourselves in. Two racing hearts didn’t produce clarity any better than two wrongs made a right.
Yet I welcomed the company as I plummeted headfirst into the unknown. With Ana, what had always seemed so scary to me suddenly seemed . . . not so bad.
Aside from my arm around her shoulders, I managed to keep my hands to myself for an entire movie. I kept up with the gentleman-like behavior as we ventured to the concession stand for drinks and snacks during the intermission between the evening’s two showings. I held on to our spread of food while Ana ventured into the bathroom. Leaning against the cool brick wall beside me, other men and boys of all ages also waited for their dates. In the distance, a h
undred small speakers transitioned from The Supremes to that hot new rock band my brother liked to listen to—Led-something.
I found myself humming along to the now familiar beat when the bathroom door swung open. I straightened expectantly, but it wasn’t Ana that stepped outside.
“Shit,” I muttered when my gaze landed on Tracy Ryder’s predatory eyes.
Behind her, two of her loyal followers stood, darting expectant looks between us as they awaited Tracy’s move. As did I. I recognized the smirk on her face. She had an opinion, and I was going to hear it whether I wanted to or not.
I steeled myself for attack . . . but was left with nothing but a few parting leers as the trio paraded past me. I watched warily as Tracy stopped at the corner, and turned her head over her shoulder.
“Oh, Ben,” she called with a deceptively cheerful smile. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
She turned the corner without waiting for a response—not that I was going to give her one. By now, only one man was left waiting along with me, and he offered me a sympathetic nod. Even he recognized the bullet I’d dodged by dumping Tracy.
A moment later, he took off with a woman that exited the bathroom, and it was just me. Over the low hanging roof of the concession stand, the opening credits of the second movie scrolled across the large screen in time with the upbeat music that crackled through the speakers.
I stared at the closed red door to the women’s bathroom and waited. Each second the door remained closed worsened the dread settling in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. I knew it now. I should have expected something the moment I saw Tracy walk out with a smirk on her face.
Mind made up, I yanked the door open and stepped inside. The door groaned shut behind me as I took in the dreary gray walls of the bathroom. The three stalls to my right were empty. I followed the sound of running water to the left, around another wall, until I found Ana.
She stood at the sink, her head bowed over a balled up paper towel in her hand. I had three seconds to gauge the situation before her eyes snapped up and met mine in the reflection of the mirror.
What Comes Next Page 15