by Leddy Harper
“My sister made this.”
“She did? Really?” He seemed shocked, but then he shrugged.
“Yeah, Bree. She makes all kinds of furniture out of other people’s discards. They’re beautiful pieces. And she sells them at the flea market.”
“Your stepsister?”
I was surprised he remembered which one Bree was, but then again, I shouldn’t have been. He seemed to remember a lot of what I told him about my life. “Yeah, that’s the one.” I spun around to look at the rest of the room. “There’s like no personal items in here.”
“It’s my cousin’s spare room. No one ever stays in it. It’s been mine since I got here, but my stay was never meant to be permanent, so I haven’t had the need to personalize it.”
I moved to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Why did you come here?”
He ran his fingers through his damp hair and followed me, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. “I had shit to deal with, and I couldn’t do it from home. My cousin offered me a room, so I took it.”
“And he doesn’t mind that you’re still here?”
“When I came to stay with him, I didn’t know how long I’d be here. Everything has kinda been up in the air since I arrived, taking it day by day. He told me to take as long as I needed. We were really close growing up since my brothers are older than me, and my other cousins are even older than them. Luke and I had each other. We’ve always been more like brothers than cousins. But then his parents moved away from Dalton, so we didn’t see each other as much anymore once we were teenagers. Plus, I think he likes having me around. I’m sure he gets lonely here all by himself.”
“He’s not married?”
“Nah. He spent almost two years with someone, even bought her a ring, but it didn’t work out. She strung him along for a while after they split, but then he finally gave up.” The way he explained it made it sound nearly painful, as if it’d happened to him. It only showed how close he was to his cousin, and it made me think of Bree, of how close our relationship was despite not being blood related.
“Well, is he coming home tonight? I’d like to meet him.”
Bentley shrugged, relaxing more on the mattress. “I don’t know what time he’ll get in. He likes to close the bar down.”
“Oh, he owns the bar?”
He laughed and scratched his jaw. “No. I mean he stays until they close.”
I lay on the bed, rolling to my side to face him. “Do you pick girls up at bars or clubs? Or did you back home? Or not just those places…but anywhere. Is that why you don’t have an issue with it?”
He mimicked my position, rolling to his side until we were face to face, a small space of the bed between us. “Not really. I have before, but I never went out to bars much. And we don’t have any clubs where I live. I’ve never been much of a drinker to be honest with you. Maybe in my early twenties, but it wasn’t often.”
That made me feel so young, the age difference becoming noticeable. “So how does a horse trainer pick up chicks?”
The way he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and then slowly dragged his top teeth over it until it released, hypnotized me. Then the deep voice that followed held the capability to compel me to do anything he asked. “Women love men who drive big trucks.”
“No…women love men with big dicks.”
He rolled his eyes, his chest rumbling with laughter. “What’s your obsession with the size of my dick? Little do you know, it’s actually quite small. Only three inches hard.”
“That’s such a lie. I saw the outline through your jeans on Monday. Maybe the tip is three inches, but you’re not fooling me.” I had to force myself to keep my eyes on his face and not let them travel to the place they really wanted to go.
“I was having a good day. Now that you know the truth, there’s no need to obsess about it anymore.” He winked and shoved his hand beneath his head, moving a little closer to me in the process.
“Whatever. And you seemed rather obsessed with it tonight as well with all your talk about filling me with it. You don’t need to act all humble about it now. The cat is out of the bag. So what? You’re packing a child’s arm in your pants. Own it. Flaunt that shit.”
“You fucking amaze me,” he whispered with a smile playing on his lips.
“How’s that?”
“You’re so comfortable talking about sex. So confident.”
“You weren’t exactly shy earlier, you know.”
His gaze lowered, hidden behind his lids and lashes as if I’d somehow embarrassed him. “That’s different. That was in the moment. Kinda hard to be shy when your hand is down someone’s pants and your fingers are inside them.”
“You weren’t shy last week when we discussed why your dick hangs down your pant leg.” It seemed the more I pressed him, the quieter he became, and the more his cheeks took on a reddish hue. Watching him react that way made me giddy, left me happy and excited instead of numb and empty like I’d been for the last five months.
“It wasn’t the most comfortable conversation I’ve ever had.”
I curled my legs up, pulling them closer to my body. He laid his hand on my knee, soft and gentle at first, trailing his fingertips in a figure eight over my skin before resting his open palm on the outside of my bare thigh. His soothing touch made my skin feel cold on every part of my body other than the one spot beneath his warm palm.
He trailed his fingers to my arm, settling his hand over mine, and locking our thumbs together. The act seemed so intimate, so personal. Heat spread through me, settling any worry or doubt left in me. It gave me a sense of absolute peace. He began to play with my fingers, study them instead of looking at me. “What’s this?” he asked, touching the spot on the inside of my middle finger.
“It’s a tattoo.” I knew without looking what he referred to. Three black dots, one on the side of my middle knuckle, and one on each side of that. “It’s an ellipses. It’s used to symbolize something trailing off.”
“Why did you pick that?” His eyes met mine, and the way they glistened as he waited for me to answer showed genuine curiosity.
“Sometimes things happen in life, and it makes you lose your train of thought, makes you forget about what you were doing or saying. So you just trail off. To me, it’s a reminder that even though we may get sidetracked, the important thing is to remember where you were going, and to pick back up. Make it a pause instead of an unfinished thought. Never give up.”
“Then why put it there? You’d have to bend your whole hand to see it.” He twisted my arm, demonstrating how I’d have to move in order to see my own tattoo.
I snickered, lacing my fingers with his. Intense heat traveled up my arm as our entire palms touched, sizzling with something I’d never felt before. “When I cut hair, I pull a section straight, and then hold where I need to cut between my first and second finger. In the mirror, I can see it.”
“That’s rather brilliant. Any more tattoos?”
“I have a robin in watercolor on my lower back for my mom. Her name was Robin and she was a painter. Well, not professionally, but she loved to paint.” The pricks of tears reminded me that I needed to change the topic away from my mom before I broke down in front of him. “My turn to ask a question. Why won’t you kiss me?”
“Haven’t found a good time to yet.”
“That’s such a lie. First night we met, when we were saying goodbye at my car, I leaned in and you kissed my cheek. Tonight, in the parking lot, I tried again, and you still didn’t. You’ve had the chance to, but you’ve veered away every time.”
“I didn’t say I never had the chance. I said there hasn’t been a good time.”
“Then what’s a good time?”
“The night we met, you were vulnerable. I wasn’t about to take advantage of that. And tonight…well, things were a little too heated between us. I wouldn’t have been able to stop at a kiss.”
I raised our joined hands to his face, running the pad of m
y thumb over his bottom lip. “That didn’t answer my question,” I said, unable to take my focus off his mouth. “When is it a good time?”
My pulse picked up, my heart hammering away in my chest like a drum as each second ticked by in slow motion. He let go of my hand and held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, slowly inching his face toward mine. By the time our noses touched, I closed my eyes, anticipating the feel of his lips on mine. But then he tilted his head, grazing my cheek with his lips instead. Defeat and rejection had me ready to give up and push him away. I’d grown tired of his games, his endless teasing and taunting. I pressed my hand to his chest, but instead of pushing him away, I glided my palm over his hard pec and up to his neck, where his strong pulse thumped against my fingertips.
His hot breath fanned against my cheek through his parted lips, never once closing them or forming an actual kiss on my skin. He pushed himself up slightly with his other arm, shifting his upper body over mine, forcing me to lie flat on my back. That’s when his lips moved from the side of my face to the corner of my mouth. I sucked in a small gasp of air seconds before he finally brushed my lips with his.
It was a tender motion at first, barely touching with no pressure behind it. However, it was the most intimate sensation I’d ever experienced. I slid my hand from his throat to the back his neck, up to the back of his head where I gently scratched the short hairs, catching them beneath my fingernails. It was enough to force him to deepen the kiss, fully closing his mouth over mine.
A weak moan vibrated in my throat at the same time a low groan erupted from his. His lips parted, opening mine in the process, and then his warm tongue met mine, gently massaging it for a second before pushing it into my mouth. It was sweet, tender, yet growing impatient and demanding the longer it went on. Finally, he pulled back and rested his forehead on my shoulder.
“I guess laying in bed isn’t a good time, either. I’m gonna need another shower.” His soft laugh rumbled through me, sparking my own giggles to life.
“Is that what you did in the last shower? Did you take care of yourself?”
“God, woman. You’re killing me.” He shifted to his back and covered his eyes with his arm.
I rolled into him, excited and turned on. “You know,” I whispered close to his ear, “you don’t have to do that in the shower. You took care of me earlier, now let me take care of you.” I trailed my hand down his body toward the impressive bulge in his loose shorts.
He quickly grabbed my wrist, keeping me from reaching it. “I took care of you because you were convinced you needed it. I don’t need it. And before you get upset, that doesn’t mean I don’t want it, or that I haven’t thought about it. It simply means we can’t. I am here for you. And if we mix sex into it, that’s all it’ll be. We’ll become fuck buddies, which will hinder any chances of you feeling better.”
“So I’m supposed to go without sex until you deem me fixed?”
“Sarah, I will do what I can for you, but I’m not going to give in just because you say you need it. And it doesn’t mean you need to do anything for me. I want you to talk to me, tell me things, really open up no matter how painful it is. I won’t push or force you to talk if you’re not ready, but there will be times you won’t want to, yet you’ll need to. And those will be the times I’ll be there to help you through it anyway you need it.”
It didn’t take a genius to understand what he meant. Pretty much, if I opened up the depths of my soul, dug around in the pain, and exposed myself, he’d get me off. It seemed like blackmail, but it made sense and was exactly what I wanted a mere twenty-four hours ago, but now, not so much. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but I’d already let go, and now it was time to see if I would fall or fly.
I curled into his side and rested my head on his chest with my arm around his waist. “You’re asking a lot of me, Bentley.” I closed my eyes, giving in to the exhaustion that had taken over.
“You’ll be all right. I promise. Just take your time.”
Those were the last words I heard before sleep pulled me under, lulled into slumber by the hypnotic beat of his heart, the fresh scent of his body, and the rhythmic movement of his breathing.
Bentley
Sarah left the next morning before Luke got out of bed. I didn’t want her to go, but I knew things would get really messy if she’d seen him here. I felt like I’d just gotten her, and I wasn’t ready to lose her quite yet. And had she seen Luke, she would’ve run without allowing me to explain. Even if I could give her an explanation, it would only make her push me away more. I still had more work to do before that happened.
“You must be a real idiot bringing her here.” Luke made his way to the kitchen, his hair all over the place, proving he’d just rolled out of bed. “I saw her car here last night when I got home. Do you even know how awkward that could’ve been?”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s gone.”
“Just don’t bring her back.”
“What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, my cousin doesn’t want you in his home anymore’? That’s a little rude, even for you.”
He sat down at the kitchen table and rested his head in his hands, clearly recovering from a night of drinking. “I don’t care, Ben. How about you start with the fucking truth? The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll be. You’re fucking sleeping with her. This is gonna blow up in your face and you know it.”
“I can’t tell her yet. I’m finally starting to get through to her.”
“Didn’t seem like it last night when I found her in the bar trying to get laid.”
Luke had left right after calling me the night before, when he felt the need to rub it in my face that Sarah was back out on the town. So he had no idea what I’d found once I got there.
“Listen, Ben—”
“No. You listen, Luke. You don’t know a damn thing about any of this. You don’t know what she’s going through. You don’t know how I feel about her. So stay out of it. I appreciate you letting me stay longer than planned, but if this is how it’s going to be, then I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
“What? You plan on shacking up with her?”
I groaned, tightening my hands into fists on top of the table. Growing up, we’d never fought. We’d always gotten along. Even after I came to stay with him, we didn’t have any issues. This didn’t start until the night I decided to seek Sarah out. “Again, Luke, you don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t slept together…aside from next to each other last night. I only want to help her.”
“Keep telling yourself that, cousin. But one of these days, you’re going to be hit hard with the truth, and it’s gonna sting. You’re gonna fall for her, even harder than you already have, and that’s when she’s gonna rip the carpet out from beneath you. Trust me. I’ve been there. You try to keep it light and fun, and the next thing you know, you’re in love and ready to spend your life together. And just when you think everything is sunshine and rainbows, the sky opens up and pours on you.”
I shook my head. “Don’t compare your relationship with—”
“I’m done.” He slapped his hand on the table before standing, interrupting me. “Do what you want. But I’m telling you, don’t bring her back here. All it’ll do is fuck everything up for you. If you want more time, then it’s in your best interest to keep her away from me. But when she rips your heart out…” He shook his head and walked out of the room, leaving his sentence hanging in mid air.
I knew Luke only had my best interests at heart. I knew he was only looking out for me, but it didn’t make it feel any better. As I sat alone in the kitchen, I couldn’t help but let his words sink in.
He was right. Sarah would leave me. There was no way in hell she’d stick around if she found out the truth.
The clock was ticking.
Time was running out.
I had to start picking up my pace before the buzzer sounded on our time together.
Sarah
After leaving Bentley�
��s, I hit the grocery store and then went home and did a bit of cleaning. I needed to fill the silence I’d found myself in. It was strange to me since I’d gotten so used to being alone, never minding the lack of conversation. However, after one night with Bentley, I realized how much I’d missed it. How much I missed just having someone there—like my mom used to be. We didn’t always have to have something to talk about, but just knowing she was there was all that mattered. And maybe I’d pushed people away because I didn’t want anyone to fill those shoes, believing that would mean I had replaced her. That thought gutted me and left me guilt-ridden over allowing anyone to take her place, yet also contented that I’d been able to analyze my actions on my own.
The thought of sleep had me dreading the empty bed, the cold pillow, and the suffocating dark room. I used to look forward to crawling into bed, using it as an outlet for the pain I’d stuffed down during the day. Dealing with my grief didn’t feel as overpowering that way. Although, after spending a night in Bentley’s bed, curled up next to him without one tear slipping out, I no longer desired the outlet of my obscure and lonely room.
I don’t know how he knew, but Bentley’s call came in moments after I dressed into a T-shirt for bed. The sadness had already begun to creep in, the threat of tears burning my eyes. Yet that all vanished as soon as his name flashed on my screen. It was as if he sensed my sadness and knew I needed to hear the sound of his voice. He spoke to me, and with each story he told of his childhood, his brothers, their families, and his friends back home, my melancholy dissipated until I finally fell asleep. I’d managed to close my eyes and drift off without the dark cloud of memories suffocating me. And I’d been rewarded with the most peaceful night of sleep I’d had in months. Well, except for the night at Bentley’s, but this was on my own. I felt proud, as if I’d accomplished something.
By the time I made it into work Monday morning, I didn’t need to plaster a fake smile on my face, because a genuine grin wouldn’t leave my lips. Waking up to the thought of Bentley put me in a good mood, and I wished it’d never go away. However, the happiness I’d woken up with didn’t compare to the excitement that bubbled inside me when he surprised me in the salon during my lunch break.