Love Inn

by Kim Smith

  But something about the man kept her from considering such action. She really was interested in him. The time they had spent together had been like almost like a rebirth to her. For the first time in a long time she had just relaxed and enjoyed a man’s company.

  Was she sure she could have a no-strings sort of affair? Her heart was aching for attachments. When he’d held her in his arms and danced with her, she’d felt as light-headed as though she’d been drunk. That surely was not a good sign for leaving him behind with no future glances back. When had she become so interested in settling down? It had happened with no warning.

  And she’d been so rude to him, too. She remembered the look on his face as he stood in her room, laden with a tray. Guilt consumed her. She had to go to him, but not before she took time to freshen up.

  She undressed, got into the shower, and let the pounding jets steam clean the clouds from her mind. Next up: a decent apology.

  ###

  In the springtime, guests didn’t frequent The Inn as often as Ben would have liked. Yet he found himself preparing a room for another guest later that day. Kitty had not appeared for lunch, and he wondered if she would be down for dinner. He would not try again to take a tray to her, only to be turned away.

  Let her come to the kitchen.

  He folded the quilted comforter neatly and placed it on the foot of the bed for Mr. Charles Trimble, his soon-to-arrive guest. Mr. Trimble had needed a place to stay and found most of the local hotels full thanks to a winning season for basketball fans.

  Ben smiled to himself. Maybe this would be the year to surpass all others for business. He could only hope. His bank account would be seriously thankful.

  He glanced at the still-closed door of Kitty’s room. She’d been an opportunity, but that had apparently been all in his head, she obviously wasn’t interested.

  Pausing outside her door, he wondered if she ever went to sleep. It was too quiet for her to be moving around. She would be hungry by now. Should he knock? His last attempt had been a rude awakening and he didn’t wish to repeat it, but…a twinge of guilt for not being a proper host drew his brows together. Carla would chide him about treating guests as royalty.

  Then he heard the water running and moved away. She was not sleeping.

  He made his way downstairs and stood at the desk, considering if it was too early to begin preparations for dinner. Trimble wouldn’t be in until after five, but would be eating at The Inn. Maybe the two of his guests could keep each other company. He’d be sure to make himself scarce.

  As he brought out a large package of rice and moved to place it in the rice steamer, Kitty appeared. She danced through the kitchen, humming to herself and as she passed behind him she paused to rub his back and peer into the pans on the stove.

  “Oh it’s a lovely day, simply lovely. I can’t tell you what it feels like to be able to run through so much of the work in one sitting.” She kept rubbing his back in medium sized circles, not noticing how he stiffened. Finally, she passed to the left of him and pulled out a stool to perch herself on.

  He turned away and replaced the rice in the pantry. When he returned, he hoped his face didn’t show how her light touch had sent shockwaves through him.

  “What?” she asked, when he kept busy at the stove. “No greeting for your guest then?”

  At that, he looked directly at her. “Guests are allowed free run of the place, but not free run of the owner.”

  Her blue gaze softened as she left her seat and returned to his side. “Oh, Ben, I am terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you in any way. It’s the artist in me, I suppose. I get a little carried away when I find the writing going along. Please forgive me?”

  He stood stock-still, not meeting her gaze, afraid to speak at the emotions tumbling over him like rushing water in a stream.

  She clutched his arm, and turned him. “Please?”

  He gazed down at her and nodded. She smiled and the ice in his heart melted a little. He put his arm around her and she slid into his embrace. He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. Having been so bold already, he stroked the silken strands of burnished fire, and appreciated their lustrous feel.

  His voice was low. “I’m not prepared for a woman’s onslaught.”

  “I wouldn’t be thinking of doing harm to you.”

  “It’s been a very long time since—“

  “I’ll wait for you,” she said, stepping away. “I’m after a short walk. Perhaps you’ll have a recall whilst I’m out?”

  His heartbeat pounded. “It’s like horseback riding they say. You don’t forget.”

  She grinned and bounded out the door.

  Trimble arrived before she returned. He wore a tailored suit and gold watch and talked business. Ben welcomed the change of atmosphere and showed him to his room with a promise that dinner would be ready within the hour.

  When he had the beef tips and gravy nearly ready, Kitty came through the back door, stamping her feet on the mat and rubbing her hands together. “Something smells delicious.”

  He waved her to the table and began placing mats around for place setting. Before he could warn her of a new guest on the premises, Trimble strode through the doorway and made himself at home at the table.

  He stuck his hand out to her. “Charles Trimble, call me Chuck. I’m the new kid on the block, and unfortunately late for dinner.”

  “Not at all, Chuck,” she assured him, as she squeezed his hand. “We’ve only just begun.”

  Ben returned to the kitchen to gather the plates and silverware. As he watched them chatting, he felt a surge of heat rage through him. He wanted her. And if she would allow it, he’d have her.

  Tonight.

  ###

  Her gaze was fixed on the dark-haired man seated across from her, a smile plastered on his face. “If the weather decides to cooperate, Mr. Trimble, a long stroll around the grounds is balm for the tired soul,” she said. “I’ve found it completely inspiring.”

  He nodded, rising from the table. “I am off for that walk right this minute. An excellent suggestions, Miss Beebe. Will you join me?”

  She tapped the side of her teacup and shook her head. “No, I’m thinking of another cup of tea and then I must return to my work.”

  He nodded and strolled to the door leading out to the patio. Once he exited, she released a held breath. She wanted to have a few moments alone with Ben to see if he remembered what a kiss was like. Her lips tingled as she thought of it.

  She found him, sitting on the first stair, staring off into space. His hair was tousled, and he looked tired. She wondered if the strain of keeping up with the business was causing him distress, or if he was having the same emotional upheaval she was.

  “So, here you are,” she said softly. “Are you in hiding then?”

  He shoved up from the stair and stood closer to her than he intended. “No. Not at all. Just too lazy to climb them again.” Then he pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the stairs. “I may need an escalator put in.”

  Standing by him, breathing in his rustic-smelling cologne, she felt light-headed, thrilled. “Shall I carry you?” She gazed up into his eyes and knew there was no need for jokes.

  He didn’t give them a chance to make more small talk. He ran his hand down her arm and swept her into an embrace, his lips barely touching hers. She was not willing for him to be gentle, and she pressed closer, opening her mouth for his tongue to move inside. The kiss grew and lengthened until they both were breathless.

  When they stepped apart, she felt her heart jerking in her chest like a wild animal trying to work its way out. “I’ll gladly take that as payment,” she said in a whisper.

  His eyes glowed with heat no one could mistake for anything but passion. “I think I can manage now. As long as you’ll follow to make sure I don’t fall.”

  They went up the stairs, her hand tightly clasped in his, and when they reached the top floor, he closed the door to his room trapping her inside, beginning ane
w his onslaught. He held her loosely in his arms and cradled her head with his hand as his kisses burned between them like a flame loosed from a candle. Their sighs and moans filled the room as they settled on the bed atop the comforter.

  He undressed her slowly, one article at a time until she was glowing and naked beneath him. His hands filled with her breasts, hefting them, adoring them.

  She wrapped herself around him and he knew without a moment’s thought, they were perfectly matched. He held her hands tightly as he thrust and retreated, plundering her as she met him stroke for stroke. He possessed her, feasting and taking his fill of her body until she cried out, passion enveloping them.

  He plunged deep, completely surrendering to her in every way. When he buried his face in her sweetly scented hair, he didn’t know who the conqueror and who the conquered.

  In the morning when she woke, Ben was gone, hosting his latest guest. She lay curled on her side, naked beneath his quilted coverlet. She would get up and go back to her room to freshen up in a few moments, but for now, she wanted to enjoy the memory of their encounter.

  In fact, she tried desperately to recall the sensations his mouth and hands had brought to her body. She wanted so much to capture those feelings and get them on paper so that her characters would bring their lovemaking to life on the page just as she and Ben had done for real.

  She wondered as she rolled over taking the coverlet with her, if it was even possible to recreate those wonderful sensations with words. It would seem to cheapen it, lessen it in some way.

  This thought left her feeling a bit less romantic and she quickly gathered her clothes, put them on, and left his room. As she passed the stairs, she heard their voices below, deep rumbling male voices lifted in the camaraderie that only men could share. She wasn’t sure she was even glad he had someone else to keep him occupied. She was about as uncertain of her feelings as she had ever been.

  She worked on the book for a long time, getting the words situated just as she wanted them, then she relaxed and went downstairs. When she strolled into the kitchen, she was a little more than surprised to see Ben’s sister-in-law, Nikki, standing at the sink.

  “Hello there,” she said, pulling out the stool and seating herself on it.

  Nikki turned around and smiled as she wiped her hands on the dishtowel draped over the stove handle. “Hello yourself. How’re things?”

  Kitty stretched and said, “Lovely. Things are lovely.”

  “You have that strange smile on your face that makes me think you and Benton are getting along a tiny bit better than lovely.”

  Kitty felt the smile burst across her face. “And right you are. He’s a wonderful man, Nikki.”

  “He’s madly in love with you,” Nikki said, moving closer to her.

  “I know. It’s in the very lines of him,” Kitty answered, feeling slightly uncomfortable. The obvious question of what came next filtered through the air between them.

  “So? What now?” Nikki asked.

  “Now, I don’t know what happens. I mean, he’s a wonderful man and I could see myself spending far more time here than anticipated.” She struggled to explain.

  “But I don’t see myself as settling down, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s not in me, I’m afraid.”

  “Getting to this place again in his life has been a long hard battle,” Nikki said, quickly. “You can’t ruin it. It’ll kill him. He needs you.”

  Kitty stared at her for a few moments. “He needs someone to love, that’s true. Whether I am the someone remains to be seen.”

  Now Nikki straightened and a tiny frown appeared between her eyes. “You don’t understand, Kitty. He’s been through such a painful loss. I never believed he’d find love again. I know he has never wanted it. What he had with my sister was enough for him for a lifetime he always said. I just saw him a little while ago, and it was like having her back again. He was humming! You can’t sit there and tell me this isn’t what you want, what every woman wants? A man with a will to love? Come on!”

  Kitty slid from the stool and stood with one hand on the bar, before gazing into Nikki’s angry eyes. “My life’s been difficult as well, Nikki. I won’t allow more pain to come into it. For either of us. I see now that I was wrong. Terribly wrong in leading him on this way. Things have gotten. . . out of hand. I’m sorry. So very sorry.”

  Then she turned sharply and strode from the room. She waited until she was safely behind her bedroom door before she allowed the tears to flow. It was time to leave. She’d stayed far too long.

  Chapter Seven

  The tiny cottage was clean and neat, its hardwood floors scrubbed and polished until they shined. She wandered through the rooms with memories of her childhood filling every facet of her being. The trip from the modern conveniences of the little inn and Benton Jessup for the homeliness and solitude of her parent’s house in the countryside of Clare was a mystery. It was as though she’d closed her eyes and slept through the entire trip. She’d fallen into bed upon arrival and had stayed there for a whole day.

  Now it’d only been a week, and he’d tried to call a dozen times, but she wouldn’t take his calls. He would get the message soon, she hoped. There was nothing between them but a night of passion she’d kept trying to tell herself. The problem was she didn’t believe it. There was something between them that she’d always wanted. The same thing all couples in love had between them. She refused to give into it, though. She had to be strong. They had no future together. He had his business, and she had her writing career. Maybe he’d see that soon.

  He had to forget her, forget them. She’d fled The Inn in hopes she could do the same. He touched some place deep within her soul, some place she had no idea even existed, and now that it was uncovered, she would spend the rest of her life trying to bury it again.

  Standing in her mother’s comfortable kitchen with the kettle on the fire, promising tea in a few moments, she looked through the window into the front garden, and wondered what life would be like without that sort of emotion in her life.

  The book was finished, and she planned on posting it today. Her agent would be thrilled. The romance was everything she had promised, although she was sure it could only be that way in her books. Love of that caliber happened only in the pages of a romance.

  As she stirred the hot liquid in her cup, she immersed herself in the indulgence of sorrow. She missed the banter over tea with Ben. She missed his puttering in the kitchen, and his touch whenever she was near. Things would be so lonely now.

  She wandered through the small house. What was left for her? What could she do? She would make another trip to New York. Her editor would insist on it. Would she be able to fight the urge to go down to see Ben?

  A noise in the front of the cottage drew her attention away from her misery.

  She skirted the table and entered the parlor.

  Her heart thundered in her chest. “Ben?”

  He stood with one hand wrapped around a suitcase, the other thrust deep in his jeans’ pocket. “Kitty, I . . .”

  “What are you doing here, Ben? You shouldn’t have come.”

  He dropped the case and in one stride was standing beside her, his hands warm on her shoulders. “Kitty, you left without saying anything. I couldn’t let things end that way.”

  She tried to turn away, but he held her fast and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. “Kitty. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. What makes a woman run from that? Why did you leave?”

  It was impossible to avoid his insistence. He’d come a long way to hear her reasons. “Ben, you need someone who will share your life, stake your soul with ties that will transcend time. I’m not sure I can do that!”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “You think I want someone to wallow around and agree to every damn thing I say? What’re you, crazy? I want someone who knows her own mind, who challenges me, who says ‘no’ more than she says ‘yes’ just so when I wear her down, it will be fresh
and new. I want you, Kitty.”

  “What about your business? What about The Inn? You have so much going for you. I’m like a string blowing by. You’ll forget about me in a few months.”

  He shook his head. “Never. The Inn needs a woman. I realize that now. It wasn’t the same after you left. It’s more hollow and empty than ever.”

  She pulled away for a moment, trying to get a grasp on what he was saying. Finally, the light poured in as though someone had pulled open the blinds to her heart. “I’m terrible at cooking.”

  “I’ll be the cook then. I don’t need a cook.”

  “I love Ireland.”

  “We’ll have two homes. We can live in two places. There are many months in a year. Hell, maybe I’ll open another Inn here.”

  “I have to go to New York. A lot.” She looked at her feet before trying to sidle away.

  “I’ll carry your bags.”

  She stopped and he moved to her, bending his long body over her, his lips burning a trail up the side of her neck, past her ear, across her cheek, and to her lips. “Marry me, Kitty,” he whispered into her mouth before he sealed her answer with his tongue for a long searing kiss.

  He let his hands roam over her body, until she moaned.

  “If you don’t say yes, I’ll keep this up until you beg.”

  She allowed him to scoop her into his arms and sweep her onto the small sofa, continuing his savage journey using his mouth. Finally, she answered him, breath coming in hot rasps. “I will, Ben, I will.”

  He eased his assault ever so slightly. “You mean it? You don’t want to take it back?”

  She groaned. “No. Marry me, Benton Jessup, but just never stop doing this.”

  “You’re mine, Kitty. Mine alone. Forever.”

  She gazed into his eyes then took his hand and placed it over her heart, pounding with the thrill of his love. “You’d only to look here.”

  “I’m home. Finally, I am at home.”

  Outside the wind picked up and rattled the shutters on the ivy-covered cottage, but inside they never realized it.