by Tessa Bailey
Chapter 14
HOW HAD EVERYTHING changed so drastically in five minutes?
She’d been standing there, conversation flowing freely between her friends, letting the ease of it suture her wounds for the night. Ben had been like a strike of lightning, knocking her emotional floodgates down like bowling pins. Fight for her. He was in Bloomfield to get her back. It wasn’t an easy thing to believe, when she’d never been entirely convinced he was interested in her beyond sex. But guys, especially guys who looked like Ben, didn’t fly seven hundred miles for sex. Even if the sex was mind-blowingly hot. Even if the mere suggestion of sex when Ben was walking beside her in the deserted parking lot of Calhoun’s was enough to make her sweat. Sex. Ben. Sex. Ben.
Enough. She was still mad as hell, and he wasn’t about to get off lightly. The things he’d said back in the bar, out loud in front of everyone, no less, might have made her pathetic heart squeeze, but that was neither here nor there. How could she maintain her self-respect if she gave in so easily? He’d been ruthless with her feelings, and despite how he made her feel, Honey wouldn’t be able to trust him yet. No, he’d have to earn it from her.
“How much have you had to drink?”
She paused in the act of fishing her keys out of her purse. “One shot of tequila.”
“I’ll drive.” He held out his hand. “Just to be safe.”
Protesting would have made her seem childish, so she shrugged and tossed him the set. “Are you sure there’s no alcohol still floating around in your system, Captain Hangover?”
He caught the set in midair. “It wouldn’t surprise me. It takes a lot of whiskey to stop seeing your face when I walked into that bar Friday night.”
Her footsteps faltered. “You’re just going to bring it up like that without warning?”
“Yeah.” He pulled her to a stop. His warm hand on her arm felt too good, especially after the fresh reminder of what he’d done, so she pulled it away. Ben looked as if he wanted to reach for her again, but he put his hand back down by his side. “Yeah. I’m bringing it up now. I want everything out in the open. If you need to scream and throw blunt objects at my head, do it now, so we can get back to the way you looked at me the day you sat in the front row of my lecture. I need you to look at me like that again, Honey. Like I haven’t disappointed you yet or proven I’m just another bastard who isn’t worthy of you. Okay? So, yes. I’m bringing it up.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” Her pulse went a little insane, making her feel light-headed. How the hell was she supposed to stay mad at him when he said things like that? He’s only been here ten minutes, Honey. Where’s your pride? She gestured to the rusted, sky-blue pickup truck behind him. “This is me.”
He stared at her hard a minute before walking to the passenger side and opening the door for her. His hard body only left her a sliver of room to climb in, telling her Ben knew exactly what he was doing. It didn’t matter if she was mad or hurt, their physical attraction had an obnoxious way of bypassing everything else. With a lift of her chin, Honey nudged him out of the way, put her foot on the truck’s runner, and pushed herself up.
“Oh God. Ouch.” The words slipped out involuntarily, her abused thigh muscles nearly giving out on her as she heaved herself onto the seat. Ben’s hands were on her immediately, assisting her.
“Honey?” His gaze raked her, obviously checking for injuries. “What’s wrong?”
She blew a breath out toward the car’s ceiling. So much for keeping her pride. Her legs were shaking like a newborn deer’s. “Did anyone from the supergroup fill you in on why I came home?”
His lips quirked gorgeously, probably over her description of their friends. “Yes. Well, I got most of it out of Abby before Roxy hung up the phone on me. I’m not very popular with your roommates at the moment.”
Honey felt a flash of gratitude for two dynamic girls having her back. “Did Abby keep switching from English to Italian? She does that when she’s riled up.”
“I’ve never been so impressed while being yelled at.” Looking genuinely concerned, he cupped her knee, and every inch of her skin heated. Drastically. “I thought you were coming to help out with your brother, babe. I didn’t know that meant physical labor. What have you been doing?”
“Nothing I didn’t do every single day growing up.” She let her head fall back against the seat, flexing her foot when she felt a cramp forming in her calf. “New York has ruined me. I’m a certified Yankee now, and you showed up before tequila could numb the pain.”
He made a sympathetic noise. “I’m sorry. Will it help if I tell you I’m taking your place starting tomorrow?”
“What?” Her head popped up. “You can’t.”
“Why is that?”
“You won’t be able to work the tractor.” She gestured to his clothing. “I’m beginning to doubt you even own a pair of jeans. Or a T-shirt. You can’t farm in a button-down and wingtips. No, it will never work.”
His smile only got bigger the more she protested. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Honey could only stare as he closed the ancient, creaking passenger door and went around the front bumper to the driver’s side. In a million years, she’d never expect to see Professor Dawson climbing into the bucket of bolts that served as her family’s truck. But there he was. Starting it up just as naturally as he did everything else.
When he noticed her staring at him, he raised a dark eyebrow. “Yes?”
That familiar mannerism and tone reminded her of how Ben spoke to students in his classroom, and a subsequent flare of lust ignited in her belly. Oh boy. This was bad. Very, very bad. “What am I supposed to tell my parents about you just showing up here?”
He gave her a serious look as he backed the truck out of its parking spot. “I can only tell you what I’d like you to say, Honey. That I’m your boyfriend who couldn’t last a full week without you. The second half is already true. We’re just working on the first half.”
Don’t throw yourself at him. Don’t. “You have to stop saying things like that.”
“Why? Is it getting to you?”
“Not ready to say yet.” Ben pulled the truck to the edge of the parking lot, and she directed him to take a right. “What was your plan if I told you to go jump in a lake? Not that I haven’t ruled it out,” she rushed to add.
“For tonight, my plan would stay the same. Take you home and check into the motel in town. Tomorrow would be a little more challenging, since I’d have to convince you to change your mind.”
“Motel?” She shot up in her seat, wincing at the flash of pain in her backside. “Are you trying to give me a permanent twitch?” When he only looked confused, she clarified. “This is the South, Ben. My mother would just as soon dance naked in our front yard than let a guest stay at a motel.”
“Even if you’re still angry with me?”
“Especially if I’m still angry with you. ‘Keep your enemies close’ might as well be the state motto.”
He slid her a heated look. One that told her exactly what was on his mind. But not hers. Definitely not hers. “Well, this makes things considerably easier.”
“ ‘Easy’ isn’t the word I would use.” She encompassed her body with a circular hand gesture. “This here is Fort Knox. Especially with my father around. Unless you want to go back to New York minus testicles.”
“It’s not on my top ten list.” Honey tried not to be miffed that he didn’t appear bothered by the lack of nookie on the table. It made her wonder if he had a plan cooking behind those scholarly looking glasses. “Who was Elmer to you, Honey? Please note that I’m speaking in the past tense.”
“My high school sweetheart.” She pursed her lips. “You jealous of ol’ Elmer, Ben?”
“ ‘Jealous’ is too common a word. His existence is a threat to my sanity.”
Lordy. If her heart kept fluttering to her throat, it was going to get good and stuck. “Well. It doesn’t feel good, does it?”
His eyes closed
briefly. “It wasn’t my plan to arrive with Viv on Friday, Honey. I ran into her down the street and saw an opportunity to—”
“Let me down easy.” Viv. She hated that he shortened the woman’s name. Hated it. She shook her head while directing him to take a left turn onto the dirt road leading to her family’s farm. “I don’t understand. Nothing has changed since then.”
Since there was only one residence on the dead-end road, Ben correctly pulled to a stop outside the old white clapboard house. Inside, she could see her mother’s silhouette moving in the kitchen window. Shadows being cast on the walls of the living room, where her brother watched television from his permanent position laid up on the couch. Home. Only now she was seeing it through an outsider’s eyes. She pictured him, with his education and a professional athlete for a father, in a brick town house with ivy crawling up the side. What would he think of her country family and their country ways?
When the silence stretched, she looked over at Ben, who was watching her closely. “You’re wrong, Honey. Everything has changed.”
BEN HAD NEVER met a girl’s parents before. Ever. He’d dated a single mother once, which technically meant he had met a parent. Just not a parent of the person he was dating. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you’re not dating her yet. But somehow, by the grace of God, he was going to be sleeping under the same roof as Honey tonight, when he’d flown here fully expecting to sleep in some form of the Bates Motel. Those expectations, combined with his ferocious hangover, had led to some pretty disturbing dreams on the flight to Kentucky. More specifically, someone yanking aside his motel shower curtain and tossing live guinea pigs at him. Which was only slightly less daunting than meeting Honey’s parents. Because he’d never met a girl’s parents. He didn’t get a test run, however, and this wasn’t just any girl.
It certainly didn’t help that as they climbed onto the porch Honey tensed up beside him and looked like she might be pondering a sprint in the opposite direction. As young as she was, she’d probably only brought home one lucky guy to meet her parents, and he couldn’t think about that. It made him want to break things, and that probably wouldn’t make the best first impression. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Perribow. Smash vase.
What had Russell said about meeting parents? Never bring chocolates for the mother because it implies you think she’s unhealthy. Never discuss baseball with the father over dinner because it inevitably leads to indigestion and he’ll associate you with a sour stomach for the rest of his life. Right. Not much help there, since he hadn’t expected to meet Honey’s mother tonight and was thus chocolateless. Dinner had long since passed. He was on his own.
“I don’t know about this,” she whispered, one hand on the screen door handle. “This isn’t something I do. My family has long memories. They still bring up that time I dropped Baby Jesus at my fourth-grade Christmas pageant. Ten years from now, they’ll say, ‘Remember that man you brought home, Honey? Whatever happened to him?’ I don’t know if I can . . . subject myself to a lifetime of you being dropped into conversations.”
Fuck. Her words socked him in the gut. She was already writing him out of the picture. He’d definitely done a number on her—maybe more than he’d originally thought. Even if he got her back to New York by his side, it wouldn’t be over. He’d be making up for the hurt for a long time. He hoped he got the chance. They’d have a lot of time to talk, though. He’d make sure they did. Right now, he just needed her here with him. On the same side. Smiling. “Hey. Think of all the stories you could make up if I turn out to be an asshole. He joined a commune. He got eaten by a shark. That’s years of entertainment.”
The porch light illuminated her smile. “He runs a support group for ex–Elvis impersonators.”
“Your mind is wasted on science.”
Her laugh was interrupted when the front door flew open. A woman, Honey’s mother if her eyes were any indication, paused in the act of drying a dish. “Well. What’s this now?”
Honey held the screen door open with one hand. “Well, now, Mama. This is Ben. He’s . . .” She stood up straighter. And proceeded to talk in what sounded like a new, undiscovered language. “The thing is, he’s kind of my boyfriend and we’re having a fight right now but he stuck his butt on a plane to come down and see me anyway. It was foolish and impulsive but here he is and I suspect he’s probably hungry so can you make him a sandwich? Not one of your good ones, because like I said, we’re fighting. But we can’t just let him starve is all.”
An older man in a trucker hat appeared at the door. “Who’s that?”
“Her boyfriend,” Honey’s mother said without skipping a beat. “They’re fighting, but it’s not bad enough to let him starve on the porch.”
Honey threw up her hands. “Can we come in?”
“Depends on what the fight was about,” Honey’s father drawled. “The devil is in the details, ain’t it.”
Don’t bring up baseball. Don’t bring up baseball. Ben could practically feel Honey wilting beside him. It was make or break time. Man up, Dawson. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Ben. Dawson. Ben Dawson. It’s my fault we’re fighting, sir. I brought another woman to our supergroup merger because I wanted Honey to realize I wasn’t worth her time. But when she did actually realize it, I found out what it feels like to be without her.” He chanced a look at Honey, but she only looked baffled. “It’s awful. Without her. So I’m here to become worth her time again.”
Honey’s mother sank against the door frame.
“You talk like a Kennedy.” Honey’s father ran a hand over his beard. “You a Democrat?”
“Okay and we’re moving on.” Honey grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him past her parents into the house. “Enough soul baring for the night. I’m putting him in Teddy’s room, since he’s sleeping on the couch.”
Her father cocked an eyebrow. “That’s right next to your room.”
“My behavior will be above reproach, Mr. Perribow,” Ben assured him with a firm nod.
Honey’s parents exchanged a look. “Who talks like that?”
“An English professor,” Honey muttered behind his back, low enough to reach his ears only. “Come on, Ben. Tomorrow will be soon enough to bring new meaning to the word awkward.” She took his hand again and tugged him toward the stairs. “I’ll be back down in five minutes. Feel free to set the oven timer, Mama, since I know that’s what you’re fixing to do.”
“What about his sandwich?” Honey’s mother complained. “You said I could make him one.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Perribow. I ate on the plane.”
He was fucking starving, actually, but the need to be alone with Honey outweighed his hunger. He’d meant what he said to her father, too. Mostly. He would respect the man whose roof he was under and keep his pants zipped within those four walls. Didn’t mean he would pass up a chance to remind her what was between them. Early and often. He’d maximize every moment she’d let him have.
Knowing her parents were watching him as they ascended the stairs, he kept his eyes down, when he really wanted to get a good look at Honey’s ass in that jean skirt. It felt like a year had passed since he’d had his hands on her, and the memory of her soft skin was wreaking havoc on his deprived senses. They turned right at the top of the staircase, and she led him into a tiny room, flipping on the light to reveal Bob Marley posters decorating the walls and a stuffed iguana mounted to the headboard.
“Don’t ask,” she said. “Teddy’s a little eccentric.”
“Okay.” Ben propped his suitcase just inside the door and let himself finally get a decent look at her. Since he’d arrived, she’d had another man’s arm around her, they’d been in the darkness of the truck, and meeting the parents wasn’t exactly prime time for appreciating the new tan she was sporting. He started at the tip of her cowboy boots and let his gaze rake up her legs, her hips . . . God, those tits. Whoever had informed her she didn’t need a bra was his first and last favorite person in the world. Didn’t seem fair that other me
n got to enjoy the outline of her pointed nipples, but if she covered them up, angels would weep enough to flood the earth twice.
“Ben.” Her tone held a warning. “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
Damn. If she hadn’t licked her bottom lip and shifted in her boots right after she said it, he might have listened. Might have. “What are we going to do with five minutes, babe?” Before she could answer, he closed the door as quietly as possible and flipped off the light. The only sound in the room was her little gasps of breath. He wanted to feel them against his stomach. Which couldn’t happen. Not tonight. Not until she forgave him.
Ben hooked an arm around her waist and walked them backwards toward the bed, seating her in his lap. “I don’t like knowing you’re sore,” he murmured against her ear. He placed his thumb at the base of her spine, applying firm pressure all the way up to her shoulder. Honey gasped at the unexpected treatment of her tight muscles, but it quickly turned into a moan. “Ah, babe. You can’t make noises like that, or they’ll think I’m fucking you in here.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll be quiet,” she panted. “Please keep doing that.”
He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t, for two reasons. One, that moan had made his dick hard enough to break through a block of ice. Two, they weren’t in a place where he could laugh at her without damaging her pride again, and he wouldn’t risk a setback. Instead, he dug his thumbs into her shoulders and neck, moving them in a circular motion, biting his lip when her head fell forward and she jerked it back upright. “If we were alone, I’d keep this up for an hour, Honey, but I want to get to the rest of you before my time is up.”
“The rest of m—” He dropped his hands to her thighs and kneaded the flesh just beneath the hem of her skirt. “Oh . . . yes. There. Oh wow.”
Hell, she was purring now, and he only had about another two minutes. He could feel the heat between her legs. It would only take him moving his hand two inches higher, and he’d be touching her pussy. God. Damn. In a move that seemed unconscious, she’d started rotating her hips in time with his fingers. “Keep that up and I’m going to give you more than a massage. I’m hard up for that pussy, Honey. Enough to forget where I am in order to get some.”