Your Inescapable Love (The Bennett Family Book 4)

by Layla Hagen

  “Girl, I bet you haven’t slept at all,” Evelyn says knowingly, sitting up on one chair. “Did you and Max finally get down and dirty?”

  Heat creeps up my cheeks, and Abby’s eyes widen. “Do tell.”

  “Yeah, I spent the weekend with him,” I admit. They exchange knowing glances, and I suspect I’m missing something.

  “How was it?” Evelyn asks.

  I shake my head vehemently. “I don’t share details, you know that.”

  Abby springs to her feet, pacing the small foyer. “That’s not fair. You told us all about Dickhead, and we were good friends and listened to you. But we need to hear some good stuff too.”

  “Yeah, come on,” Evelyn urges. “Give us something.”

  I’m racking my brain for a good excuse to leave my interrogators, when my phone vibrates with an incoming call. My lips instantly form a grin when I see who is calling. Max.

  Adopting an apologetic look, I hold up the phone. “Have to take this.”

  I walk a few feet away, but I can still hear their whispers.

  “Aww, look at her. She never had that look on her face when Dickhead called,” Abby says.

  “It’s almost dopey,” Evelyn adds.

  “I did tell you it was a good idea to stop that elevator.” Abby’s words make me stop in my tracks and turn to them.

  “You what?” I sputter.

  “I thought you said you needed to answer the phone,” Abby says.

  “You really stopped the elevator?” I grip my phone tightly, but as I watch the two of them, my annoyance melts into amusement.

  “Well,” Evelyn replies, eyeing her feet, “I thought it would give the two of you a push.”

  “How do you even know how to stop the elevator?” Now I’m fascinated in earnest.

  Evelyn doesn’t miss a beat. “I watch a lot of movies. He looks like he cares for you, Emilia. Really cares for you,” Evelyn says. “So we wanted to see what happened if the two of you were stuck with each other in a small space for some time.”

  “But nothing happened. You two are confusing me.” Belatedly I realize the phone in my hand has stopped ringing.

  “That’s the point,” Abby exclaims. “He was the perfect gentleman.”

  “That sealed it for us,” Evelyn adds.

  I bite back a laugh, deciding on the spot not to tell them about Max’s borderline phobia of small spaces. They only tried to help, after all. In their own weird, juvenile way.

  “Just don’t do it again,” I warn them. As if on cue, my phone rings again. This time, I do pick up.

  “Sword, or bow and arrow?” Max asks. “You’d better pick the right one this time.”

  “You know what, since your obsession with weapons is still on, I think I’ll choose a shield. You preparing to attack me?”

  “Oh, I am. You can choose the battlefield.”

  “How gallant of you. What are my options?”

  “Bed, kitchen counter, car. Theater.”

  “Theat— What?”

  “I had actually called you up to ask you if you’d be up for watching a movie tonight. But now that you’ve sidetracked me, I’m open to discussing the other battlefield options.”

  Laughter rumbles out of me, open and unrestrained. “Can’t tonight. Mrs. Wilson has been great about staying with Grams on Saturday, but I can’t ask her again,” I say regretfully.

  Max doesn’t miss a beat. “I talked to Alice. She said she’d be happy to spend some quality time with Grams tonight.”

  “Oh. Are you sure she doesn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. She always liked Grams, and she wants to help out.”

  “You and Alice are great.” That’s an understatement, if I’m honest. But if I say anything more than that, I might become too emotional. This isn’t something people offer lightly. “Thank you.”

  “What time will you two be at my house?”

  “Eight sounds good?”

  “Great.”

  “You still have time to choose between sword and bow and arrow until then,” Max says.

  “I’m sticking to my shield.”

  When I click off, heading back inside the clinic, my smile feels dopey even to me.

  ***

  I’m in a frenzy from the moment I arrive home. Preparing for my outing with Max is just one part; the other is preparing Grams for spending the evening with someone she doesn’t know. Yeah, she knew Alice well as a kid, but I have no idea if she’ll connect the dots when she sees her as an adult. Grams seemed to be her old self when I entered the house, which lifted my mood, right until she asked if there’s any news about my father. I told her Max is helping us find him, and now I’m worried that she’ll get her hopes up.

  Ten minutes before Alice and Max are supposed to arrive, Grams becomes absent again, lost in her own world. By the time I hear a knock at the front door, I’ve worked myself into a ball of stress.

  “Jonesie!” Alice exclaims when she sees me. I survey her from head to toe. She doesn’t look even remotely like the girl I remember. She has a mix of romantic elegance and tomboyish charm that is unique to her. She’s wearing a knee-length navy blue dress, while earrings in the form of the sun and the moon hang on her ears. Her dark brown hair is almost waist-long. I can’t quite point out the tomboyish part. Maybe it’s her smile, which resembles Max’s almost to perfection. The man in question hovers behind her, looking up to no good.

  “So nice to see you again, Alice. What did you bring?” I point to the bag in her hand.

  “I brought some ingredients for Grams’s famous banana pie. Thought I could ask her to show me how it’s done. Tried it a million times, the cook at my restaurant a trillion times, but the one Grams used to make is still the best. I read up today that people with Alzheimer’s feel more at ease around strangers if they do something familiar together. I didn’t think Grams would recognize—”

  I hug her, cutting her off midsentence. “You are lovely. Thank you.”

  “For the love of all that is holy, Jonesie! I’m a hugger, but don’t strangle me.”

  “Sorry.” I pull back, grinning at her. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

  “Hey, once an adopted Bennett, always an adopted Bennett,” she says, referring to the old moniker the family gave me because I was at their place so often. “Even though you technically cease to be one if you get down and dirty with one of us.”

  “Alice!” Max admonishes.

  “What?” She shrugs. “Not saying anything you two don’t know.”

  I blush furiously as both of them step inside the house.

  “Ignore her if she annoys you,” Max whispers to me, smiling. “That’s what I do.”

  “I heard you,” Alice says, striding inside the living room without looking back. Ah, how I love the banter between siblings.

  It takes almost half an hour to explain to Grams that Alice will be watching her.

  “Grams, you can show her how to do your famous pie,” I say for the twelfth time. The information seems to finally get through to her, and she walks with Alice to the kitchen.

  “We don’t have to go if you’re not comfortable leaving Grams with Alice,” Max tells me, sneaking up behind me.

  “It’s okay, they’ll do great. Sorry it took so long.”

  “Hey, from where I was standing, I had a great vantage point directly to this.” He pinches my ass, kissing my temple. His way of lightening up the mood. “I like seeing this nurturing side of you with your grandmother. It’s sweet.”

  Sighing, I listen intently to Grams and Alice in the kitchen. They seem to be happily working together. As patient as Max was this evening, I’m afraid all this is going to wear on him eventually… that he’ll throw in the towel and choose someone who has less responsibilities. My fiancé, Paul, seemed to be holding up with everything just fine, until he bailed. Damn it. It appears that getting rid of the wedding dress didn’t do away with my insecurities.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks the second we leave t
he house.

  “Nothing,” I answer quickly.

  “I know that look, Jonesie,” he says, nipping at my earlobe as we come to a stop in front of his car. “It ain’t nothing. I’m a pest, remember? I’ll nag you until you tell me.”

  “You’re more like Alice than you know,” I murmur. “I have to choose my battles with you.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “I just…. I was wondering if all the complications in my life will grate on you eventually, and you’ll look for something easier.”

  Max jerks his head back, his expression hard. “Listen to me. If you’d let me, I’d do much more to help with Grams. But you have a mind of your own, and I respect your wishes. You know what I want? I don’t want easy. I want you, Emilia.”

  “Wow. You’re good with words,” I say in a low whisper.

  His lip curves in a delicious smile, a sure sign we’re moving to playful territory. “Now, that’s not all I’m good with, am I?”

  Joining in on his game, I frown, feigning thinking hard. “You’re a decent guitar player and popcorn-shopper.”

  “Interesting choice of non-compliments.” He flattens me against the car door, invading my personal space.

  “Were you expecting something else?” I tease.

  “I don’t want to put words in your mouth,” he whispers in my ear. “Though I’d like to put something else between your beautiful lips.”

  A white-hot current zips through me, electrifying every cell in my body. Amazing how he can make me feel emotional, laugh my ass off, and then heat up for him in the span of minutes.

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” I tell him, barely containing my grin.

  “Nah, just know my strengths. Let’s go, Jonesie. I have some promises to make good on.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emilia

  The next two weeks are the stuff dreams are made of. Alice watches Grams a few evenings when Max and I go out during the week, and the two of us spend some quality time with Grams during the weekends.

  “Girl, you’re going to drive him crazy,” Evelyn comments, nodding at me. We’re on our lunch break, and we are in a small shop close to the clinic, where I am trying on dresses. Max and I are going on a date after I finish my sessions, and after I carefully inspected my closet yesterday, I decided I need a new dress. I paid for the car repairs last week and had some extra cash left over.

  “I love this dress,” I say, doing a full turn in front of Evelyn, who is sitting in a comfortable armchair in front of the changing room. The dress is light green and fitted in the upper part, showing the curve of my waist, while the lower part is voluminous. It doesn’t have any kind of straps, but as I tug on it a bit, I confirm that it won’t slide downward, leaving my boobs hanging out mid-date. I bet Max would love that though. I also bet he’ll make a comment about it in no time. Just conjuring his naughty smile in my mind, and imagining his even naughtier thoughts when he sees me dressed like this, makes me giggle. This man has been forever on my mind lately.

  “Do you have the shoes to go with it?” the vendor asks, appearing next to me. She’s a small thing, even smaller than I am, but she has the most perfect blonde hair I’ve ever seen. I pick up from the floor the bag I brought with me, where I stuffed my shoes.

  “Here they are.” Retrieving the shoes from the bag, I hold them up for Evelyn and the vendor to see them. They both seem unimpressed. “What?” I ask defensively. I love these shoes: classic, black leather peep toes with a five-inch heel. Yeah, they are old. Like college-freshman-year old. But they are in good shape… mostly. The leather is a little chipped on one of the heels, but you have to look really close to see it.

  “What shoe size do you wear?” the vendor asks.

  “Nine and a half,” I reply.

  “I have just the shoes you need,” she announces, flinging her shiny blond hair behind her. What I wouldn’t give to have such hair.

  “Bring them here,” Evelyn says at the same time I say, “No, thank you.”

  “They are on sale,” the vendor says. “Seventy percent off.”

  “In that case, I’d love to see them.”

  After the vendor leaves, Evelyn says, “It’s okay to splurge on yourself from time to time. I can’t believe you still have those old things.” She’d know all about them, since she was with me the day I bought them.

  “I only wear them on special occasions,” I say.

  She crosses her legs, laying her arms on the armrests. “Well, now you can set them on fire. You need new ones. Stop feeling so guilty about pampering yourself a little.”

  Pursing my lips, I swallow my reply, merely admiring the dress in the mirror. When the vendor brings the shoes though, my resolve breaks.

  “These are perfection,” I comment while stepping inside them. “And they fit me.” My legs appear interminably long in them, and they work for this dress. The reduced price tag convinces me to buy them. I’m pampering myself without breaking the bank, and I’ll blow my man’s mind tonight. Win-win. “I’ll take them.”

  “You look radiant,” Evelyn says as I’m changing into my old clothes after the vendor leaves to pack the dress and the shoes. “You love him, don’t you? He definitely looks at you like you’re walking on water.”

  I pause in the act of putting on my jeans, leaning against the mirror. The curtain of the changing room keeps her from my view.

  “I don’t want to rush anything,” I reply, which is not much of an answer.

  Of course, Evelyn calls me out on it. “That’s a lazy-ass way to avoid answering. It’s okay to love and accept love, Emilia.”

  “Evelyn, I asked you to come with me to give me your opinion on the dress, not to psychoanalyze me.”

  “Can’t help it. It’s my job.”

  As Evelyn and I walk out of the store ten minutes later, there is a pep in my step all the way back to the clinic.

  The afternoon goes by in a flash. Mrs. Deveraux is my last appointment.

  “You look glorious, girl,” she tells me. “Tell me your secret. New diet. Wait—new man?”

  Blushing, I nod. “Yeah, the friend you saw about a month ago.”

  She whistles loudly, bending to do her back exercises. “Is he as good as I predicted he’d be?”

  I blush even more violently. “He’s fantastic.”

  “Girl, I’m jealous. Make sure you tap that as often as possible. There comes a time when you’ll only be able to do it as often as your arthritis allows you to.”

  “Mrs. Deveraux,” I admonish. At her faux-innocent expression, I add softly, “You don’t have arthritis.”

  “No, but my partner does. My former one did too.” She eyes me curiously. “Back to you. How did you go from he’s just my childhood friend to sleeping with him?”

  The question makes me pause. “It just felt right.”

  “He’s a hot piece.”

  “He sure is,” I agree. In a lower voice, I add, “And he truly is fantastic in bed. The sex is amazing.”

  Mrs. Deveraux gives me the thumbs-up. “I knew it.”

  “Now, let’s return to our exercises.”

  After the session, I shower quickly and dress in record time in my new acquisitions. Even my hair is cooperating today, the usual frizz missing. I’m almost done applying makeup when my phone vibrates.

  Max: I’m at the reception desk. Evelyn cornered me. She looks like she’s about to give me THE TALK. Rescue me.

  Instantly, butterflies roam in my stomach, my knees weakening a little. Oh boy, and I haven’t even seen him face-to-face yet. Taking one last look in the mirror, I head out to meet him, walking with determined steps, like a woman on a mission. I find Max and Evelyn chatting a few feet away from the reception desk, and almost burst out laughing. Evelyn definitely has the don’t hurt my friend or I’ll kill you face. To his credit, Max appears to be his usual, laid-back self.

  “Don’t scare away my date, Evelyn,” I say. Max’s head instantly snaps in my direction, and I tak
e immense pleasure in the way his eyes widen, even darkening a notch, as he looks me up and down.

  “Merely making sure he knows someone has your back,” Evelyn explains. I love this girl so much. “Now, I’ll leave the two of you and go on with my boring evening. Have fun. I’ll be living vicariously through you.”

  With that, Evelyn heads out of the building. Max loses no time pulling me into a side corridor.

  “Is there anyone else left in the clinic?” Max asks. There is a light scruff on his chin and cheeks, and it looks mighty sexy on him. I never thought scruff and business suits would go together, but Max definitely proved me wrong. Then again, Max looks good wearing anything. Or nothing. I especially like him when he wears nothing.

  “By this time everyone’s usually gone. Abby must be somewhere around, since she’s in charge of closing. But don’t get any crazy ideas,” I warn.

  “Define crazy.” Max stops right in front of me, cupping the side of my face with his hand. His eyes zero in on my lips, and I lick them in an almost unconscious gesture. He swallows, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs down and up makes my knees weak. Dragging a thumb across my lower lip, he leans closer until his mouth covers mine. The kiss is explosive. Our tongues lash against one another in a frantic rhythm, while our hands explore. Mine roam over his chest; his are everywhere. My waist, my thighs—the upper part of my inner thighs. Holy hell. When his fingers nearly reach the fabric of my thong, I break off the kiss.

  “This,” I whisper. “This is crazy.”

  “Oh no, Emilia. Backing you against the wall and making you scream for me would be crazy.” His head is burrowed in my neck, and his hot, labored breath caresses my skin. One of his hands is still on my waist. “You make me go from zero to full hard-on in seconds. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Whatever you want,” I whisper.

  “Is that so?” His lips trail up my neck until they reach the lobe of my ear. “Don’t give me carte blanche, Emilia, because I will take you up on it.” When he gently tugs at it with his teeth, heat singes my center.

  “Max….”

  “I’m one kiss away from having my way with you here. Or in that elevator around the corner.”