by Jess Bentley
“Are you going to be my mom, Lindsay?”
I kept brushing, but didn’t look up at her. “I’d love to be your mom, but I don’t know if that could work.”
“Do you like my daddy?”
I nodded at her, finally meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I like him more than any other boy.” Man was the right term, of course, because Ben wasn’t a boy by any stretch of the imagination.
“Does he like you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you ready for the book?” I breathed a sigh of relief when she let me distract her.
I tucked her in and read her part of a chapter before her soft snores filled the room. I spent another moment just staring at her as the events of the day threatened to overwhelm me.
We’d gotten lucky that she was home safe and sound. Things could have been much different, and Ben was probably brooding about that right this moment.
I placed the bookmark in the book and put it on her nightstand before getting up. I couldn’t resist brushing a kiss against her temple on the way out of her room. I loved her so much that I couldn’t imagine I could love my own child any more than I did her.
I found him in the living room, staring into the fireplace with a glass of something clear in his hand. I sat down beside him, but didn’t touch. “Are you all right?”
He put aside the glass and fixed me with an intense stare. “I’m pretty far from all right, love.”
The endearment made my heart jump, but I tried not to read too much into it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head as he turned to face me. “I just want to hold you. Is that okay?”
I nodded. “Very okay.” When his arms came around me, mine enfolded him gladly.
He did just hold me for several long, silent moments. I could hear a hitch in his breathing, and wondered what it was like for him, to have to be strong all the time. I rubbed his back and murmured soothing words. I could only imagine how the day had wrecked him, and I was honored that he trusted me enough to show me a little vulnerability.
Or maybe I could have been anyone, and he still would have. I didn’t want to believe that, and I really didn’t, so I pushed the idea aside.
“I need you,” he said against my temple.
“I’m here for you.”
“I want you.”
I nodded, but still wasn’t entirely sure just what he wanted until his hand slipped under the hem of my shirt to trail up my stomach. When he cupped my breast, I nodded and pressed against his palm. “Yes.”
That was all he needed, and the last word I spoke. His hands moved over me with urgent intensity, almost as if he was assuring himself I was there. I hadn’t been the one he could have lost, but he seemed to need to be certain I was there too.
I pushed him back on the sofa and started stripping him. I had the need to heal him, though I didn’t know if sex could do so. I was using every weapon in my arsenal to make sure he felt cherished and cared for.
When I slid to my knees on the floor a few minutes later, he moaned and arched his back. I’d never done this before, but I acted on instinct as I wrapped my mouth around his shaft and slowly sucked it deeper inside.
As I swirled my tongue around him, he arched his hips and let out a stifled sound of pleasure. I nibbled and sucked as drops of pre-cum fell onto my tongue and down my throat. Each one was like a victory that I savored.
I could feel him on the cusp as I cupped his sac in my hand and rolled gently. He stiffened and cried out what could have been my name as his cock twitched and quivered in my mouth.
The first wave of release filled my mouth to capacity, but I did my best to swallow it down. He spurted seed again and again, but I kept it all from dripping down my chin.
When he was spent, he leaned forward to cup my cheek in his hand. He still didn’t speak, but when he held out the other hand, I took it.
Ben helped me to my feet and stripped off my pants and underwear in a confident motion. I tossed the shirt over my head, followed by my bra, and sat on his lap when he pulled me down to him.
Hard again, his cock pressed against my sex, and my body opened to him. His bare skin against mine was the best thing I’d ever felt. I knew I should stop him and insist on a condom, but I didn’t want to. I just wanted him inside me.
He was there a moment later, his hands biting into my hips in a possessive way that made me wetter. He thrust in and out of me, pulling me down to meet him each time he bottomed out inside me. I squirmed and writhed as he stroked the right spots with his cock to make my heart race and make me wet.
We moved together in an ever-increasing tempo as we strained to get closer, to come with each other. I was amazed and impressed by his stamina, and the expert way he worked my body.
My stomach quivered as waves of energy radiated outward from the center of my core. I clung to him as I came, burying my face against his shoulder to stifle my cries. He held me with steadfast support until the last spasm faded before allowing himself to come. I held him in the same way, or tried to. I never wanted to let go.
Chapter 17
Lindsay
I woke first and slipped off the couch, where we must have fallen asleep last night. I remembered him wrapped around me, so entangled I didn’t know where I ended and he began, but I didn’t recall falling asleep. We had definitely worn out each other physically on top of an emotionally exhausting day.
After finding my scattered clothes and dressing, I took a moment to cover him with an afghan lying over the back of the couch. I stared down at him for a moment, taking in his beauty. He looked so open in sleep, and his vulnerability sent a pang through my chest. I rubbed it absently as I stood up and left him.
I’d planned to go to my room to shower and change, but the sound of Elle’s feet coming down the stairs made me pause. I waited for her to come into sight, feeling self-conscious in the clothes I’d worn last night.
She flashed a bright smile, and she looked so adorable in her purple gown and crooked pigtails she must have styled herself. There was a new lightness in her step, and she was bouncing when she reached me. A lump in my throat surprised me, and I cleared it with a cough. I was optimistic she was going to be fine now. It wouldn’t be an overnight process, but she was going to heal and have a childhood again.
“You’re up earlier than I expected.”
She grinned. “You’re up early too. I was starving.”
My stomach rumbled, and I laughed. “I guess I am too.” A shower could wait, I decided. I didn’t want to ruin her good mood.
“Have you seen Daddy? He wasn’t in his room.” She bounced a few steps ahead of me, saying in an oblivious way, “Neither were you.”
I had to bite back a nervous giggle. “I think he fell asleep on the sofa.”
“Oh.” She whirled to face me. “Let’s make him breakfast and take it to him.”
“Sure.” I followed her into the kitchen, looking for Margot. I didn’t want to step on her toes by helping myself to the appliances, but she wasn’t working yet. It was a little past six, so I wasn’t surprised.
With Elle’s help, as she’d clearly spent some time in the kitchen before, I found the ingredients for pancakes. I had learned to cook a few years ago, but I wanted to keep it simple for Ben to ensure there were no disasters.
Elle busied herself cutting strawberries with a plastic knife. It made me nervous, but she quickly assured me Margot had bought the special knife just for her, and it wouldn’t cut her fingers. I still kept an eye on her as I flipped the pancakes, cooking until we had a respectable stack that would feed all three of us.
“Only one plate’s going to fit on the tray,” said Elle as she popped another berry in her mouth.
“If you can carry the tray, I’ll carry our plates.”
“Okay.” She ate another berry.
I wagged the spatula at her. “If you keep eating those, we won’t have any for the pancakes.”
She grinned and shrugged, but stopped
eating them. As I finished the last one, she moved to the fridge and came back with a can of whipped cream. I blinked away the thoughts forming in my brain, reminding myself there would be no opportunity to indulge in more carnal uses of the dessert topping today.
Maybe tonight.
Or not. I didn’t know where we stood. Was I still a casual fling for Ben, or did he actually care about me? I had no idea, and not knowing was almost as bad as finding out he didn’t for certain. I would rather live in uncertainty, I decided. Even if it was only a fantasy.
When we had breakfast ready, Elle picked up the tray carefully, and I followed behind with two other plates of pancakes. When we entered the living room, he was still asleep, and I went first to ensure the afghan still covered him.
“Surprise, Daddy,” cried Elle as she set down the tray on the coffee table with a clatter that knocked one of the bottled OJs sideways. Nothing spilled, and the pancakes remained intact, aside from a single berry sliding downward to land on the white plate.
Ben’s eyes opened, and he seemed immediately clearheaded. I wondered how to remind him he was naked, but he must have remembered, because he sat up smoothly, keeping the blanket tucked strategically. “What’s all this?”
“We made you breakfast in bed. Sort of.” Elle giggled.
It must have been as delightful a sound to him as it was me, because he grinned at her before sending me a happy look. I mirrored it and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I held until then. I must have been nervous about his morning reaction, especially since he’d been so open with me last night.
“I’m not sure what I did to deserve this, but thank you, both.”
“It’s ‘cause we love you, Daddy.”
He smiled at her, but there was a question in his gaze when his eyes met mine. “Really?”
“Of course,” said Elle as she attacked her pancakes.
I chose the easy way out and didn’t answer. My pancakes needed my full attention, and I scrutinized them closely for the next ten minutes, though I forgot to take more than a couple of bites.
“Elle, now that you’ve finished, why don’t you run up and get dressed. We’ll do something fun today.”
I looked up in time to see her grin. “As a family?”
It made my heart stutter when he nodded. “Absolutely.”
With a whoop of excitement, she sped up the stairs.
I busied myself with the auspices of gathering her empty plate and stacking it under mine. I glanced at him while waving at his plate. “Are you finished?”
He nodded, not moving as I edged around the table to add the plates I held to his tray. As soon as I came into his reach, he pulled me down onto his lap and pressed his face against my hair. “Good morning,” he whispered.
“Morning. I should get dressed if we’re going out.”
His arms loosened slightly, but he didn’t let me go completely. Ben turned me in his arms a bit, so I was looking at him. “She seems happier today.”
I nodded. “She’s more secure.”
“I know what could make her feel even surer.”
“Hmm?” I lost myself in the warmth of his eyes for a moment.
“Let’s get married.”
Chapter 18
Ben
She jumped off my lap like I’d scalded her, leaving me staring at her in shock as she messed around with the dishes and lifted the tray. “Did you hear me?”
Lindsay frowned at me. “Of course, but don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have to do anything out of obligation. Elle will realize I’m here as long as you want me to be. Marriages of convenience went out years ago.”
With that, she turned away from me and stalked out of the room. I heard some clattering dishes in the kitchen before I saw her reemerge and head straight for the stairs. Running a hand through my hair, I tried to figure out where I’d gone wrong.
A groan left me as I realized in just about every way that was possible. I’d suggested it casually, and as a way to ensure Elle was happy. That was how my brain had been working, but it wasn’t because that would be the only reason I wanted to marry Lindsay. I guess I’d just assumed that she’d feel the same way, especially after last night. We’d been so close, and I shared so much with her. I was certain she wasn’t holding back either, but had I misjudged something?
I didn’t think so, and as I observed her throughout the day, watching how she interacted with Elle, while steering clear of me, I was certain she had declined because she was hurt and didn’t want to be used as a convenient wife and mother-substitute. I was sure she felt as strongly about me as I did her, but she needed a better proposal.
She certainly deserved a much better one, and my brain started processing ideas.
I didn’t get a chance to enact any of them until a few days later: Christmas Eve. I wanted to catch her unaware, so I enlisted Elle’s help. Maybe it was a bad idea, in case Lindsay said no, but she seemed confident that her nanny would say yes when I confided my plan to her.
Now, she led Lindsay down the stairs, and they were both dressed in coordinating. red evening gowns. That had been Elle’s idea, and when she’d surprised Lindsay with “her” plan for a lovely evening in, she’d given her the red dress at that time. Betsy had been persuaded to provide her size a few days ago, after laundry day. Margot was in on it too, since she had cooked our dinner and the special dessert.
I offered an arm to each of them, and when they both took one, it felt so right that I stumbled. I nearly stumbled again when Lindsay lifted her head to whisper against my ear, “You look good enough to eat in that tux, Mr. Hudson.” Then she gave me an innocent smile and moved a few inches away.
It had been miserable for the past few days waiting to see if she would come to my room. She hadn’t, and I hadn’t gotten any signals suggesting I should go to her. I’d given her time to withdraw and get over her hurt, knowing tonight was in the works.
Margot had outdone herself, and it was a feast from the appetizer to the entrée. As the dessert came out in parfait cups, my stomach clenched with nerves. Thinking she would agree and hearing it confirmed were two different things.
“What is this?” she asked as her spoon broke the burnt sugar shell.
“Orange crème brûlée. It’s my favorite,” said Elle.
“Next to chocolate cake,” I added, watching avidly as she scooped up a bite.
“It’s my favorite Christmas eve dessert,” Elle amended. “But chocolate cake is my favorite regular dessert.”
“It’s really yummy,” said Lindsay a moment later and closed her eyes.
When she withdrew the spoon from her sweet mouth, she noticed the gift I had placed in front of her: a small, red box.
“Open it,” I said.
With trembling hands, she undid the ribbon and clicked the box open. The light made it gleam, and she gasped. “Is this…?”
“It is,” I said.
Elle beat me to the punchline. She jumped from her seat and ran over to Lindsay. Before I could join her, she was on both her knees, hugging Lindsay around the waist. “Will you marry us?”
Lindsay blinked rapidly, and she patted Elle on the shoulder, but looked at me with hesitation.
“I couldn’t leave Elle out of the proposal, because the truth is, if you say yes, you will be marrying both of us.” After messing up and hurting her the other day, my first inclination had been to do this as a solo date, but I was certain Elle needed to be included in the process. “And if you marry us, you’ll make us both so happy.”
She blinked back tears before nodding. “Yes, I’ll marry both of you.”
I let out a pent-up breath and finally managed to join Elle on the floor, but on only one knee. In a smooth motion, I lined up the ring with her finger and asked, “So you’ll make me the happiest man alive?”
She nodded, grinning, and held out her hand. “Yes, oh yes,” she whispered in a shaky voice.
I pushed the ring down firmly, anticipating the day when a white gold wedding
band would join it. “I know you love Elle, and so do I, but I want to marry you because I love you, Lindsay. With all my heart and soul.”
A tear escaped then, but I wasn’t worried, because she started laughing—a joyous sound. “I love you too, Ben.”
I swept her into my arms and gave her a long, thorough kiss. I might have forgotten my head and kept going if Elle hadn’t interrupted us.
“Does this mean I can have a sister, Lindsay?”
Lindsay laughed. “I can’t control if it’s a brother or sister, but I’d be happy to give you a sibling, if your dad is willing.”
I grinned, flashing my eyes at Lindsay. “I’m always ready for that, love.”
“Merry Christmas!” Elle shouted and danced around the room in her red dress. “A baby sister for Christmas!”
Epilogue
Lindsay
One year later
“She’s finally asleep,” whispered Elle, her voice betraying a hint of tiredness.
I grinned. “You didn’t have to wait up.”
She set her shoulders. “I didn’t want to miss story time, and I’m her big sister. I have to take care of her.”
I nodded as I carefully pulled the sleeping Gwen from my breast and stood up from the rocking chair. She didn’t stir as I laid her in the crib and stroked a finger over her thick head of dark curls. She had her daddy’s color, but my texture. She also had gorgeous blue eyes and would be a heartbreaker someday.
Just like Elle, who looked different from her half-sister in many ways, but shared the same lips and stubborn expression when she’d set her mind to something. I could recognize similar traits in my eight-week-old daughter.
“Let’s get you to bed.” I picked up the tattered paperback copy of one of the Harry Potter books we were re-reading at Elle’s insistence, this time with Gwen included. I couldn’t convince her the baby was unlikely to remember any of it.